Chapter 28

Ram entered the Log Depot’s conventional communications center and nodded to the young operator.

“Make the contact,” he said, adding, “Relay the message through one of the transports; delete all references that show this facility is in the loop.”

Switches snapped as the operator nodded. His hands sped across the keypad. A few moments passed and his voice issued as an electronic whisper.

“Calling Planet Pluto Comm Center. This is the UIPS Transport Akiba, Call Sign 943 dash 792. We have a Priority One message for your government. Stand by to record. Acknowledge.”

A slight crackle.

“This is Planet Pluto Comm Center to Call Sign 943 dash 792. We are ready to record. Go ahead.”

Ram drew a small plastic card from the breast pocket of his tunic and handed it to the operator. Without glancing at the card the operator slipped it into a slot in the console. A light on the panel blinked on and off and the card ejected. The operator returned it to Ram with a single motion and a smile.

“Message dispatched, sir.”

Narval pushed the message aside and away. Face flushed in anger, he stared at Drummer.

“What do you make of it?”

“The message is less than straightforward, Mr. President,” Drummer replied. “Ambassador Xindral seemingly appeals for an audience with you to discuss matters of interest to both his government and ours. The suggested agenda it carries, however, puts us on the defensive with barely room for reasoning with his government. He asks for a guarantee of safe conduct. As a legally constituted government in a community of nations, and in the absence of, shall we say, formal military hostilities, such a request is not only unnecessary, it is an affront. I suspect, Mr. President, that the Ambassador’s motives are to place you at a disadvantage.”

“I agree.”

“His distrust of us is evident in the manner in which the message was routed. Transmitted from a cargo transporter off the depot’s force field, no less. His personal vessel must be somewhere in the pack up there, but he obviously intends to keep it hidden. Very unseemly for a formal visit by an Ambassador.”

“Your recommendations?”

Drummer paused, and spoke slowly, carefully.

“Consider the facts: his tour of the Outer Region was preceded by a personal message from Camari to Chiefs of State. He has had audiences with INOR Presidents or Ministers. They have informed you of their replies to his appeals. Those who declined to meet with him took the course they did because they had nothing to add to what had already been stated by the others.

“Because of your initiatives, President Narval, you are central among the INOR leaders in pressing the issues between the Regions. Refusing to see him may be interpreted by our colleagues in INOR as a lack of conviction in our cause, or even as weakness. My recommendation is that you see him, but manipulate the discussions to give our rights dominance. Insofar as ‘safe conduct’, I suggest we ignore the insult, grant him permission to visit our planet, and wish him a pleasant stay.”

Narval drummed on the desk, pushed at the message again, and shifted about. He was uncomfortable.

“I’ll think about it, Drummer,” he said. “Meanwhile, extend the invitation, set up suitable quarters for him away from our official guest house, meet him when he arrives, and so on. Have him stand by. When I decide on the approach to the discussions, I’ll let you know whether I’ll meet with him.”

“Well, Scarf, have you finished reading that thing?” Narval impatiently bit a fingernail.

“Yessir, Mr. President.”

“Well?”