The Universe — or Nothing by Meyer Moldeven (i like reading .txt) 📕

took them over, under and around huge freighters and through swarms of shuttles, tugs, and barges. Five hundred meters from the depot Zolan pressed a disk on his control column and a mag beam reached out and locked on to the tug.

The tug's thrusters glowed brighter with the power to match up both craft. Aligned, Zolan released the tug, and gentling his thrusters, brought his flitter to rest on a landing platform that had articulated from a portal.

Space suit closed and glare screens partially activated to veil his features, Zolan strode the Depot's corridors behind his escort. Although he had docked at the portal nearest his destination, the spunnel console was still almost a quarter kay from the air lock.

Reaching the console chamber, Zolan motioned his guide to wait outside. He entered and inspected the area for intruders and bugs. It seemed secure.

Approaching the squat spunnel transmitter he noted that Hanno had activated the system for immediate use and disengaged all logs and file-for-record links. Confirming the disconnect, Zolan wasted no time in preliminaries. Inserting the capsule he keyed the transmitter to the channels assigned to Sentinel and set off his burst.

The transmitter was a model that dated back several centuries to the depot's construction. Zolan knew from his training for the mission that a spunnel burst from the depot had to be arranged in parts. Each segment was to be inserted separately into the spunnel dispatch slot. The ancient transmitter could process only so much at a bite.

Zolan held the final segment and reached to insert it. A couple of seconds and the transmission would be complete. The console was coded to dissolve the capsule immediately following the burst; there would be no residue.

Zolan bent to insert the end of the message.

Sensing movement behind him, he slipped sideways and hit the deck. Without warning and in the line-of-fire, the squat console disintegrated as a rending flash arced across to where he had been a fraction of second before. Off balance, twisting to face the door, Zolan drew his weapon.

The flash blinded him. His suit shielded him against the instant hell-fire that bounced off the console.

Silence followed the attacker's second shot. Zolan crouched, weapon extended, vision clearing. No further shots. Snapping a quick glance around, he took in the damage. The console was a melted lump and the room a shambles. He had to get out and away.

Up on his feet, he raced through the open doorway, gun raised. His escort to the comm room lay spread-eagled in the corridor, head burned to a crisp by what must have been a max shot. The corridor was empty.

"They cleared the area of everyone but the killer," he thought bitterly.

Having committed the route to memory as he followed the escort to the spunnel room, Zolan raced along the corridors, gun in hand. No one barred his way.

The air lock came in view. He hurried through and twisted into the flitter driver's cage. He cut the mag beam to the dock and signaled the waiting tug.

##

They met on the transit strip.

Standing close, facing off the strip, observant,
Zolan briefed Brad in quick, terse phrases.

"What's your assessment?" Brad asked when
Zolan finished.

"It was a long, straight corridor. The escort must have been shot from the bend some distance away. Damage to the comm room was extensive. Scarf must have an agent there. My having the area cleared alerted him. That brought on the attack."

"Did you get word to Hanno?"

"No. It would have raised questions I couldn't answer without breaking our cover. He'll have to figure it out for himself. I'm concerned about what the agent will report to his control."

"Whatever they conclude, the action eliminates the depot as a comm resource for us. Did you get the entire message on its way?"

"I don't know. The last fragment included the Point
Icarus coordinates."

Their eyes met.

Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN

President Camari stonily contemplated the incomplete communication and turned to Intelligence Director Dynal. Ram sat immobile, nearby.

"Allen?" Camari's raised brows posed his question.

"We couldn't get through directly to Hanno to find out why the message was cut short. So we went spunnel to the Terminals and patched in to the Depot on coded conventional. Hanno reports his spunnel transmitter was destroyed. He was certain he was hoodwinked into permitting a saboteur aboard and screamed about a security breach on the Sentinel Support Plan. He said the 'saboteur' escaped before the alarm could be acted on. A damned lucky delay, I think."

"Did you enlighten Hanno?"

"No, sir. Too risky for Sentinel, and he has no need-to-know. I did tell him to run deep background checks and truth verification tests on all Depot personnel. He objected, thinking he had already pinpointed the culprit. I told him to do it anyhow, slap into the brig anyone who didn't pass, and report the results to me under highest classification through the construction site's spunnel center."

"Good. No question they've been infiltrated. We must consider the depot compromised for classified until Hanno assures us he's cleared the problem from his facility."

The President touched a button on his desk, running the message through again in its entirety. He switched the screen dark.

"The Outer Region's target might be the depot, but I wonder." Ram said. "Perhaps destroying the depot's spunnel transmitter is prelude to an attack. If it is, they must realize that the incident set off alarms throughout our defenses. They'll also know we can maintain spunnel contact and relay messages to and from our patrollers and other craft through the construction site."

"Considering Hanno's report on what happened, the attack on his spunnel transmitter focused on keeping this message from getting through, not to merely destroy the machine. That alone would not have been worth the effort."

"We're down to one comm spunnel link in the Special
Zone," Dynal added. "The one we built on Planet
Pluto is controlled by Narval's people."

"Does Sentinel have access to the transmitter at the Terminals?"

"The sender would need to personally key in the clearances as well as the text," said Ram, "otherwise the message would be compromised. Sentinel would be compromised. We do have the last resort."

"Have you checked it lately?"

"We run random tests from this end to be certain that it's ready to function. As you know, sir, it has its uncertainties and imposes a high price."

"Back to the message," Camari sighed and rubbed his temple gently as he pondered. "Their combined forces, and the distances involved, place us at an enormous disadvantage."

"Without question."

"Ram, what's your estimate concerning the missing piece?" Camari pointed to the message in his hand.

"The missing piece," Ram replied, "the one we need most is Sentinel's assessment on where and when we can strike at INOR's fleet with maximum effect."

"Depends entirely on Sentinel? No other sources?"

"At this stage, none, sir."

Camari lowered his head, lost in thought. After
a moment he raised his eyes to Ram and said,
"We've got to get our thinking through to the Outer
Region, to all citizens as well as Heads of State.

"I want you to get out there, Ram. Be my emissary. Impress on whoever will listen the disaster that all of us face, and why we must arrive at a peaceful solution. Concentrate on the leaders of major nations; whichever way they go, others will follow."

"I'll need the formal weight of our government,"
Ram said.

"Of course. I'll notify them all that you are my Ambassador Plenipotentiary, and that you carry a personal message from me. Use the spunnel and send me reports as you go along."

"Narval, too?"

"Of course. And while you're in his area, learn all you can from whatever sources; but watch yourself with that bastard. He'd as soon cut your throat as look at you."

##

"Category one message, spunnel-comm to Earth via Guardian Station 4. Personal to President Camari from Ram Xindral. President Gelliman, Callisto, unchanged in his conviction that Slingshot will benefit only the highly industrialized inner planets. He repeated charges that the UIPS non-renewables deficits resulted from poor control and excessive consumption of raw materials, plus breakdown in recycling and conservation policies. He concluded that Slingshot is our internal problem and that it's being forced on INOR. Demands UIPS halt Slingshot construction, withdraw from the Special Zone, and resolve UIPS resource crises internally."

##

"Category one message, spunnel to Earth via Guardian Station 4. Personal to President Camari from Ram Xindral. Prime Minister Manra, Io, says he wishes us well in building a bridge to another star. He makes an issue that transportation, construction and operations for all phases of Slingshot, including ultimate storage of incoming raw matter will be inside INOR jurisdictions; therefore, the INOR governments have a legitimate right to participate in apportioning Slingshot's benefits. Refuses to negotiate this point."

##

"Category one message, spunnel to Earth via Guardian Station 7. Personal to President Camari from Ram Xindral. Foreign Ministers Roab of Ganymede and Slega of Europa represented their governments. At conclusion of meeting they issued a joint communique. Quote: it is only reasonable and proper that the governments of the Outer Region not be excluded from an equitable share of the enormous financial and material resources being lavished on the Interstellar Matter Teleport System (Slingshot). The UIPS can begin to remedy this injustice by agreeing to pay a transshipment tax on all materials, manufactured parts, tools and equipment, and personnel passing through the separate INOR jurisdictions, space-ways, and contiguous space generally. Passage fees for individual vessels in transit also must be negotiated and included in the agreement. Unquote.

"It is my opinion that the positions taken by the governments of the Jovian Federation are orchestrated. I suspect that reports on my discussions with Heads of State or their representatives are being passed among them. I am departing for Titan to meet with Chairman Stabar. The Chiefs of Staff of the other Saturnian governments and the governments of the Uranus and Neptune satellite unions have notified me that their views are consistent with those of Chairman Straber. They state nothing is to be gained by pressing for separate meetings with them."

##

"Category one message, spunnel to Earth via Guardian Station 9. Personal to President Camari from Ram Xindral. Chairman Staber's position is the same as those summarized in my previous reports. Staber openly proclaims that INOR's intent is to control the terminal that will receive and store incoming substance and oversee its distribution. Insists a formal treaty be negotiated now, otherwise, the entire Slingshot Program will be viewed as a threat to the integrity of INOR's legitimate jurisdictions. I am proceeding to the Planet Pluto Special Zone and will contact Narval from inside the Logistics Depot's protective force field. I will insist on President Narval's guarantee of safe conduct prior to departing the depot for Coldfield."

Chapter TWENTY-EIGHT

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