Adela watched the Commander as he spoke, and realized that even a life-sized holograph could not have more clearly shown how deeply disturbed he was at how quickly the situation here on Pallatin had soured. Any doubts she might have had were erased by the presence of several key members of the Levant’s crew seated with Montero. First Officer Nelon was there, of course, as was Woorunmarra’s shipside counterpart. But also in attendance was the Levant’s Weapons Master, Kyovska, and several of his lieutenants. It was obvious that Montero, while loath to use force here, was still keeping his options open.
So, apparently, was the Westland Congress. Invited by Speaker Niles to sit in on this briefing were other Westland representatives, as well as several uniformed men and women who had been introduced as top officers of the Congressional Guard, the equivalent of a national armed force. Now that Westland had thrown its allegiance to the Hundred Worlds, briefings of this type would most likely become commonplace.
“Did he give any indication at all as to which pressure taps are involved?” Woorunmarra asked, catching her attention.
“That’s just it; he’s told us every one of them, as well as detailing their locations.” Montero shook his head in frustration. “I suppose he could be lying about some of them, but most match up with the surface scanning we’ve done. The troop movements and power routing we’ve been able to detect coincide with the information he’s given us.”
“I’d be willing to bet he’s telling the truth,” Adela put in. “It’s clear he doesn’t want to use force, and he’s hoping that by letting us know just how firmly in place he is, we’ll avoid a confrontation in those key areas.”
“Speaker?” asked one of the uniformed men. His rank insignia identified him as a General. He waited until Niles nodded for him to continue before addressing Montero. “Commander, can you download that information to us? We’ve received a similar communique from Eastland regarding the locations and would like to run a cross-check on them.”
“Of course.”
The General spoke briefly to the officer seated next to him and waited while he keyed several commands into a portable keypad. In the lower right corner of the flatscreen the words “receive mode ready” appeared.
Montero’s image faded, replaced by that of a wide-scale map of the planet’s near hemisphere. The image zoomed in on Pallatin’s major continent, centering on the entire length of the Arroyo fault. With the fault itself running from the top to the bottom of the screen, it was easy to see several hundred kilometers to either side of the fault line. The map had obviously been extracted from somewhere in the middle of Salera’s communication with Montero, and his voice was running beneath the visual.
“… understand that none of this pleases me. We had hoped that Westland would support us and saved this as a last resort. Please note that in addition to the eighty-six tap stations directly adjacent to Arroyo, we…” There was a pause as Salera lowered his voice, taking on an almost apologetic tone. “We also hold five control stations on Westland soil.” Niles was on his feet at this, as was the General and one of the other representatives—Carolane Pence, Adela remembered from the introductions—although whether they had risen in shock or merely to get a closer look at the map, Adela couldn’t tell. Their faces remained impassive.
Five dots on the western side came suddenly to life at the far northern end of the fault, their orange glow matching those scattered along the length of the eastern side. The five were located almost directly on the fault line itself and were grouped so close together that at first glance they appeared to be a single station.
“Commander, can you freeze the image?” Niles asked, then turned to the General. “Can we get an identification on these stations?” The General started to ask the officer with the keypad to cross-reference the location, but was interrupted by Representative Pence.
“We don’t need to,” she said, retaking her seat. “It’s the Leeper grouping, extreme northeast corner of my district.”
Niles smiled a thank-you and asked Montero to resume the playback. The map zoomed in on the five stations, showing the area in greater detail. They were arranged in a nearly perfect line running parallel to the edge of the fault, the scale indicator at the top edge of the map showing them to be just under a kilometer apart from each other.
“Please believe me,” Salera’s voice went on, “when I say that we aim to keep control of these stations; do not force our hand on this. And please, Commander—understand that, while we would be hesitant to use them, we are prepared to do just that.”
The playback of the segment stopped and faded, and Montero once more stared out from the screen, the look of troubled frustration on his face no less apparent than before. “Speaker, may I ask the significance of the, uh, ‘Leeper grouping,’ as you referred to it?”
Niles hesitated. He had been most cooperative since the dissolution vote at Dominion, but it seemed that he was still not entirely comfortable with this new alliance with the Imperial Commander.
“Speaker Niles,” Adela said calmly, “we can’t help you if we’re not fully informed.”
He shot a sidelong glance at her, concern showing in his eyes, then softened as he smiled, nodding in acceptance. “You’re right, I know that, but… understand that it was not all that many years ago that I, too, would have considered you an invader to our world.”
“And what changed your mind?”
Niles shook his head. “It’s not important right now.” He opened a desk drawer and removed a light pen, then approached the screen, saying, “Commander, can you put the map back up, please?” In a matter of seconds the map returned, still at the zoomed-in shot where it had cut off before. “Pull back, please, to show the full length of Arroyo. Thank you.” He activated the light pen and circled the Leeper grouping, then drew a line to another set of similarly arranged orange dots that appeared on the opposite side of the fault, slightly south of the first, and encircled them as well.
“Commander, the isolated stations that you see highlighted along the length of Arroyo and throughout both sides of the continent act as individual pressure taps, bleeding off tectonic stresses as they occur in the areas in which they’re located. They operate independently of one another, but act to reinforce the main controls we have over plate activity along Arroyo itself. But the Leeper grouping, unlike the individual stations, functions as a single control station, a combination pressure-tap and monitor/relay station specifically designed to work in concert with a matched control grouping on the opposite side. Look here.” He drew circles around a dozen more such groupings on the eastern side. “These are all tied in to matching stations on this side,” he went on, extending lines across the fault to the corresponding groupings. “We’ve heard from most of them and, as you might expect, they’ve been disconnected from their counterparts on the eastern side. If you could give me the close-up of Leeper again?”
The scene zoomed in, close enough that surface details and the actual fault could be discerned in the overhead view. Using the light pen, he traced a series of concentric circles around the Leeper grouping, then another series around its counterpart on the eastern side, giving the appearance of ripples spreading away from two stones dropped a few meters apart into a still lake. “Each of these groupings is connected to a network of smaller, unmanned taps located along these lines.” Niles marked several X’s on each of the rings as he spoke. “Responding to whatever tectonic activity occurs in the region of a control grouping, signals are sent to these unmanned taps—and, if needed, to the larger isolated pressure stations—to relieve or apply stress, effectively controlling major earthquake activity.” He returned to his desk, dropping the light pen on the desktop as he sat, adding, “This latest information explains why we haven’t been able to contact Leeper.”