"What if he can't? I have to tell you, Colonel, that legally you're on very soft ground. Council or no, you're still the one who's ultimately responsible for everything that happens on Astra … and the UN would be well within their rights to cut off our supplies."
"All right," Meredith said abruptly. "As the saying goes, two can play this game."
He keyed his phone for the base communications center. "Put a call through to the nearest Rooshrike ship," he instructed the officer on duty. "Tell them I'd like a talk with Beaeki nul Dies na at his convenience." He got an acknowledgment and looked back at Carmen. "Is there anyone in your department who's ever handled trade negotiations?"
Frowning, Carmen leaned across the desk and started tapping computer keys. "I think Ruth Eldridge might have … No, that was a labor dispute." She pressed more keys, but the screen remained blank. "Nothing like that in anyone's file, sir," she said.
"Damn. Well … how about you? You want to help me open up trade with the Rooshrike?"
She looked up at him, jaw dropping open. "Me? Why?"
"Why not? Common sense and a fast mind are at least as important as experience in something like this. Besides, as head of the Council you'll lend an air of legitimacy that may keep Perez's crowd off my neck."
"But—Colonel, don't you think you're giving me just a little too much extracurricular work?"
He smiled in spite of himself. "Oddly put, but you have a point. All right; as of right now you're relieved of all your normal duties. I'll get you a priority number for materials and personnel by tonight or tomorrow morning, but try to use it sparingly."
"I understand." She sighed. "Oh, all right; I'll do it. What exactly do you want from the Rooshrike?"
"Ultimately, our own private channel to both U.S. and alien markets, one the UN
can't shut off. Priorities right now are foodstuffs, heavy equipment—well, it's the same list that's on the computer. All the stuff we lost to the Spinneret's leecher."
"How about weapons?"
"None." His lip twitched at her expression. "Yes, I know I'm a military man and that we've already been attacked once. But our best chance of survival right now is to look and act as harmless as possible. Remember, the warships upstairs know even less about the Spinneret than we do—and they don't know we aren't in actual control of the thing. I've already had to deflect two or three veiled questions about the 'weapon' we used against the M'zarch landers, at least one of which concerned the thing's range. The minute we start looking militant I think they'd come to a pretty quick agreement on joint action."
"I suppose so," she agreed reluctantly. "I just don't like feeling so vulnerable."
"Neither do I, but for now it can't be helped."
She shrugged, as if dismissing the matter. "All right. Now, how are we proposing to pay the Rooshrike for whatever they get us?"
Meredith took a deep breath. He hated to do this, but could see no alternative.
"We'll pay them—and any other race with which we do business—in lengths of Spinneret cable. The value per meter will be assessed later, once we've completed our tests on its material properties."
Carmen's dark eyes held his. "You're going to let the aliens buy the cable, just like that? Suppose one of them figures out what it's made of or how the glue works or something?"
"I don't think that's likely to be a problem," he returned dryly. "And even if they do, I doubt it'll hurt our profits any. If Dr. Hafner's right, the Spinners' factory could be the size of a small city, and I can't see the Rooshrike or Ctencri throwing one together overnight." He paused, but she still looked troubled. "You disagree?" he prompted.
"What about Earth? Are you going to give the UN or U.S. some cables free, or make them pay for it like everyone else?"
Meredith shook his head. "I don't know yet how we're going to handle them. My first inclination is to pay off the costs of the colony and then treat Earth as just another customer … but since the U.S.'ll get the lion's share of cable that way, it's bound to cause a major stink at the UN. And this damn six-week communications lag doesn't help any—we could spark off a war and never even know about it until it was all over." He scowled toward the computer screen. "Let's add a couple of those fast courier ships to the Christmas list you're making. If the UN can get advanced drives, we ought to be able to, too."
"Yes, sir." She hesitated. "Colonel … before I came here I was talking to Cris Perez. He's also starting to talk about selling Spinneret cable."
"Oh? I would've thought tawdry mercantile matters beneath him."
She flushed. "He's less interested in profits than he is in making Astra an escape hatch for Earth's poor. He sees the Spinneret as the cornucopia that'll make that possible."
"He would," Meredith grumbled. "Perez is a grade-ten idealist."
"Perhaps," she said noncommittally. "But you're now talking about a similar course of action … and either way I'm worried about what we'll do here with a sudden influx of wealth. I'd hate to see all of us sit back and loaf while the Spinneret pays the bills for us."
Meredith nibbed his chin. "I doubt that it'll come to that extreme. The cable may be strong as hell, but what can you really do with something shaped like cosmic spaghetti?"
"I don't know. But the Spinners apparently did."
"Yeah." For a moment Meredith stared past Carmen. An entire planet-worth of metal … quintillions of tons of it … all made into six-centimeter cable? Why!
"You'd better go back to your office and get busy with your preparations," he said, instinctively pulling back from what could only be futile speculation. "I'd like to get Beaeki's people down here tomorrow morning for a preliminary meeting."
She nodded and stood up. "I can be ready."
"Good. I'll let you know the time after I talk with the Rooshrike."
He glared at the desktop for a minute after she'd gone. So he and Perez were both thinking along the same lines for once, were they? An annoying thought, in some ways; but if handled properly it might enable him to take some of the wind out of the Hispanic's rhetoric. Even a brief respite would be helpful; between Perez, the UN, and the collection of alien ships overhead, Meredith was facing too many opponents as it was.
Hitching his chair closer to the terminal, the colonel keyed for the job file and began to type: SEARCH ALL AVAILABLE ALIEN LITERATURE FOR HISTORICAL
RECORDS, LEGENDS, OR MYTHS RELATING TO OTHER RACES, GODLIKE BEINGS, ETC. EMPHASIS ON ROOSHRIKE AND POM
TERRITORIES. FULL ANALYSIS REQUESTED, INCLUDING
CORRELATIONS AND COMPOSITES WHERE POSSIBLE.
Know thy enemy, the ancient dictum went … and if the Spinners had left any other trace of their passage behind, Meredith wanted to know about it.
Chapter 16
The report was short and maddeningly uninformative, and Secretary-General Saleh slapped the last page onto his desk with a snort. "I don't suppose," he said sarcastically, "that you have any idea what these meetings with the Rooshrike are about?"
Ashur Msuya shook his head. Judging from his expression his own mood wasn't much better than Saleh's, but he knew better than to snap back at his superior.
"Nothing positive. There's been nothing like a general announcement about changes in defense arrangements or anything. It's possible they're working on a trade agreement, but the shipments that the Rooshrike landed there could equally well have been in return for the cable they made off with after the M'zarch attack."