The Admiral's outburst had given subject matter guidance to the computer. The display shifted to the Planet Pluto Special Zone. Two tiny red lights flashed rapidly at the coordinates where the attacks had occurred. A steady blue light tracked the hijacked stores.

Selvin continued. "The entire sector from which this attack was launched is honeycombed with utility pa.s.sages and subsurface supply and maintenance shops," he said. "They date back to when our earliest construction cadres went in.

The subsurface should have been returned to its original state when we had no further use for the tunnels and galleries. We did start to collapse the ice walls and overheads; obviously, we didn't get very far."

Selvin sighed, heavily.

"Understandable," he went on. "Hundreds of junctions and cutouts were dug to serve one-time needs. They were never mapped. The same can be said for subsurface technical facilities. No question that many are still usable."

The view tank's image blurred, then cleared to show a broad expanse of Pluto's barren surface out to the planet's horizon. A white, steady glow identified Coldfield, the surrounding red and blue lines identified scores of subsurface pa.s.sageways and rutted trails that curved away from the domed city in all directions.

"There's no doubt that the underground pa.s.sages and caverns are being used by Narval as maintenance and operations hangars for his fleet," Selvin said returning his eyes to Camari. "Many have enough room to accommodate nuclear energy capsules, ship and equipment repair shops, and catapult launchers.

Pseudo-gravity enhancers during construction stabilized the floors. Foundations are secured deep in the frozen surfaces, and bonded well enough, so that even under the planet's low density, they'll take the weight of battle wagons."

The silence hung heavily as Selvin glared at the view tank. His voice rasped. "They must have installed heavy screens in the overheads. Many of our penetration readings are dim, even with our most advanced sensors."

"That's all I have for now, Mr. President," he said, leaning back. Absently, his stubby fingers drummed the tabletop. He caught himself and glanced about guiltily as he drew his hands back to the edge of the table.

Camari's eyes moved on to a somber-faced ancient who gravely returned his stare. "Let's hear the intelligence review, Allen," the President said.

The Minister for Intelligence placed his clasped hands before him on the table and spoke. His voice was hoa.r.s.e, low and intense, and his eyes moved from the President to Jim Selvin, who faced him grimly.

The view tank flickered, clouded and cleared to an overview of the Outer Region. The scale reduced planets, satellites, and stations to the colored pinpoints of light with which they all were long familiar. The computer adjusted to focus on a magnified Plutonian sector. The Ura.n.u.s and Neptune orbits, although contained within the tank displays, were cut out by the compression.

The Slingshot Construction Site rode the rim.

"Updating, the latest reports of military construction, commitments and political realignments among the Outer Nations are ominous,"

Allen said. "They're pledging themselves to each other through mutual a.s.sistance pacts and are building military s.p.a.cecraft, weapons and support systems to back up their agreements."

Pointing thoughtfully with his right forefinger at his left palm, Allen updated the military a.s.sets of each opposing nation, and correlated its potential capabilities to economic resources over the coming decades and centuries until Slingshot reduced the solar system's deficits. He wove into his a.n.a.lysis the effects of orbital dynamics on normal and spunnel transit times from each Inner and Outer Region point-of-origin to the Slingshot work sites.

He moved on to the status of weapons research and development, and identified the locations of the Outer Region's weapons manufacturing sites and military training facilities.

"The long-term defense of Slingshot through purely military means," he added, following a deep breath, "especially in protecting our routes and the Log Depot, is, as Jim stated, not possible given the prevailing circ.u.mstances. The so-called members of the Independent Nations of the Outer Region are expanding their field of operations, and they get generous support from satellite collectives and individual sympathizers throughout the region.

"Our intelligence sources," Allen concluded, "report that many supporters of Plutonian objectives are, themselves, descendants of the insurrectionists that fomented the dissolution of our first interplanetary union. Now, it seems, their intent is to destroy Slingshot, and us as well."

Allen Dynal and Jim Selvin glanced at each other; they were not in disagreement.

Camari broke the hush that followed Dynal's words.

"We are well into an armed confrontation," he said.

"Nevertheless, whatever actions we take must minimize destruction to life and property, require no diversions from resources allocated to Slingshot, and in no way restrict Slingshot's construction and launch schedules."

Turning his head slightly, he nodded at the last of his three advisors. Chan Dahl, Minister of Diplomatic Protocols, laid his ma.s.sive forearms on the table, palms down. His abrasive voice matched his heavy features and rotund body. He spoke rapidly in summary fashion: offering little that was new, Chan pa.s.sed quickly over the diplomatic chasm that had formed between the UIPS and the Outer Region after the dissolution of the first United Planetary System. He summarized the complex alliances that had evolved among the independent governments beyond the Asteroids following the secession, and moved on quickly to the initiatives of his Ministry to reconcile inter-regional differences.

"The issue of the transit fee is critical," he said. "Each Outer Region nation has expressed vehement impatience to get on with its toll tax on the UIPS for each transport or other vessel that enters s.p.a.ce contiguous to their planetary and satellite orbits. They insist that such s.p.a.ce is legally within their natural boundaries, and that by merely pa.s.sing through, we trespa.s.s.

Rest.i.tution, they claim, is in order.

"Negotiations remain in limbo. The impa.s.se will, quite likely, remain for some time. Our position is unchanged: the fees that they demand are without justification, an extortion to which we cannot submit."

Throughout the discussions, the Strategic Concepts Computer flashed a continuing display. As each topic was opened for discussion the view tank portrayed the corresponding regions, sectors, planets or satellites, shifting from one to the other as needed to clarify points under discussion or accompany the exploration for alternatives. The lower section of the tank registered the computer's quantification of speculations by the President's advisors, and their probabilities toward realization.

Finally, President Camari raised his hand. He pressed a softly glowing disk on the table. The view tank cleared. Resting his chin in the palm of one hand, Camari gently rubbed his temple with the fingertips of the other.

"Instructions to Strategic Concepts Computer," he began. "Summarize the facts adverse to our cause and our options for dealing with each. Arrange and rate the options according to their probabilities for results favorable to the UIPS, and separately, favorable to the interests of the Outer Region's Nations. Consider UIPS limitations in nonrenewable metals, minerals and other vital reserves until Slingshot begins to produce. Take the options into account and a.s.sume that Slingshot will succeed on schedule and will generate sufficient refined matter over time to meet the needs of both Regions.

"Project each option's draw down on resources committed to Slingshot, and estimate their impact on schedules. We may need to gamble here. Crank in the latest estimates on the years it will take for the Extractor to reach Alpha Centauri, get organized around the job, go online, and begin to produce. Compute out to the time that we will have rebuilt stockpiles within the Solar System."

Leaning slowly back into his chair as he spoke, Camari lowered his hands into his lap. His eyes moved from one advisor to the other. They returned his gaze, the bleakness in their eyes matching his own. "Try different combinations within the options and rate them," he continued. "Examine our treaties with the other powers and status of current negotiations and pending proposals. Show how each option, which has statistical probability for success up to exponent three can adversely affect those treaties or negotiations."

Camari drew a deep breath. "We need to take a fresh look at where we are. We've also got to avoid political irritations that may exacerbate the situation further. On the other hand, revisions to treaties and to our positions at the negotiating tables may be essential. Slingshot may solve our disagreements, but we cannot wait.

"Review our readiness and activation sequences consistent with our Quick Reaction Capability to deal with contingencies in the Slingshot Special Zone. Work up details on what needs to be done and by whom to upgrade our QRC initiatives for each contingency that I keyed in as probable. Show costs in still accessible resources separately and integrate results with relevant commitments and schedules. Draft implementation plans and execution directives to commit resources. Update constantly, but keep all implementation directives on 'hold'

until I direct otherwise.

"We meet again in two hours," Camari, said, rising from his chair. "Computer: be ready to give a presentation on each option and its variations within the parameters I specified and which surface through your a.n.a.lyses. Double-check resource requirements and schedules, and tactical options and their possible effects on UIPS forces and a.s.sets in the Special Zone. Maintain current. When I select the course of action and authenticate them with the Presidential Implementation Designators, release directives to implement the decisions.

Monitor and report. This completes my instructions to Computer."

The President turned toward the door from which he had entered. Pausing, he glanced back at the Minister of Intelligence.

"Allen," he said, "give me a rundown, within the hour, on our intelligence a.s.sets throughout the Outer Region. I am especially interested in your ability to intensify earliest possible infiltration and disruption throughout Narval's domain."

The door slid shut as he pa.s.sed through. The wall panel across the view tank cavity lowered as the advisors departed.

The Strategic Concepts Computer presented visual displays accompanied by a gently modulated audio. The a.n.a.lysis was incisive, the coverage comprehensive. At its conclusion, the President scanned the faces of his Ministers and the Commander of the s.p.a.ce Forces.

"Comments?"

Scores of questions probed and tested the computer's logic and conclusions. Questions became observations, which, following discussion, became revisions that, were instantly extended to corollaries. Often, objectives and programs were adjusted. Finally, it was done -- for the time being.

Rising from his seat, the President's eyes took in his grim advisors. Speaking softly, he pa.s.sed decisions on several recommendations to his Ministers, Admiral Selvin, and into the Computer.

Done, they sat silently for several moments, weighing the decisions' potential effects.

Rising and making his way toward the doorway, Camari motioned to the Minister of Intelligence.

"I've read your report on our a.s.sets in the Outer Region, Allen. I have a special task for your Ministry."

He motioned the Minister for Intelligence to join him. They pa.s.sed through and the door closed silently.

Chapter THREE

The Watch Commander drew a hand weapon from the rack, adjusted the power to low stun, and checked the safety. He slipped the sidearm into the sheath at his waist and scanned the monitors displaying his areas of jurisdiction.

The agri-ecol bays and industrial shops of the Guardian Station were orderly and busy. The officer's fingers ranged the console's keys.

Aud-viz transmissions from pa.s.sageways, wardrooms, and work and recreation areas slipped across the screens in rapid succession. Inmates and guards moved about, operated equipment, or worked at their benches, each, in his or her own way, putting in their time on the station's business.

A keystroke brought up the eight people boarding the Station through the lower air lock. Two were station guards, their weapons sheathed but retainer clips disengaged for instant withdrawal.