Narval glanced at the monitor.

"I see. Now, the Guardian Station prison, I am informed, keeps tabs on its inmates using a sophisticated surveillance system. How did you manage to evade observation long enough to get away?"

"Zolan, a member of our group is an expert in electronic countermeasures, counter-countermeasures, and so on. The system on the Guardian Station was installed two to three centuries ago. It serves fine, I suppose, for the ordinary run of inmates confined on the station.

Zolan devised a screen behind which we did our planning and preparations. When we were ready to go, he rammed both a counter and a counter-counter device into the station's sensors. The double whammy confused the h.e.l.l out of the system long enough for us to make our getaway."

"That's my next question. It seems to me the s.p.a.ce Guard should have been after you immediately.

How is it they let you get away?"

"I think I owe you the credit for that."

"Me?"

"That's the way I figure it. The Guard needs a minimum number of ships to do its work in the Inner Region s.p.a.ce lanes. Those lanes are so crowded that they need every ship they can muster to maintain order. On that I speak from long and bitter personal experience. Since the secession, many more Guard vessels are needed along the Belt and their overlap into the Jovian Void; at best they're thinly spread.

"Because of the threat to Slingshot that they perceive in you, the UIPS has been draining both groups lately to augment patrols along routes through the Outer Region that converge on the Special Zone. The additional ships are from the Belt patrols. With all that they already have to cover, expending vital resources to chase a few escaped convicts just wasn't worth it."

Narval wheezed a chuckle.

"So, you think you are beholden to me for this indirect a.s.sistance. Really feel that way?"

As he asked the question he looked intently at the monitor. Brad, in turn, watched Narval's eyes.

"I can't see it any other way, Mr. President."

Narval grinned.

"Your answers to my questions present an interesting scenario," Narval said after studying the monitor. "The probe, by the way, does not indicate significant deviations from the facts -- as you understand them, of course."

Narval waved the guards away. Saluting, they left the room, closing the door softly behind them.

Narval motioned Brad to a chair of much gentler design alongside his desk. As Brad exchanged seats Narval swiveled his chair to face him. He leaned forward and grasped Brad's wrist in a puffy grip.

"The interrogation is over," he said. "This little session with the probe, along with voice a.n.a.lyses of you and your a.s.sociates has, up to now, failed to disclose a threat to me or about what you all now know of my plans and military capabilities.

You seem to be what you claim. Nevertheless, you remain under scrutiny."

Brad shrugged and remained silent; his features reflected that he expected no less.

Narval's smile was vapid, metallic.

"I commend you for the manner in which you represented Drummer and, I add, myself. You did well with the log depot Commander and that upstart on the transport. I am especially pleased with the way you conducted yourself in that little squabble on the transport."

"Thank you, Mr. President."

"Now, to more important matters, Brad."

Narval leaned back in his deeply cushioned chair and tented his stubby fingers.

"Your observations on the deployment of UIPS military forces interests me. It supports my suspicions. The Inner Region's internal s.p.a.ce Guard is constabulary in both organization and mission.

Their jurisdiction is confined by the UIPS borders.

Their Military s.p.a.ce Force, on the other hand, has a charter to roam the Solar System -- comparable to ancient laws ensuring open seas and oceans.

"Transfer of fighter craft and pilots from the UIPS s.p.a.ce Guard to the Military s.p.a.ce Force, I suspect, is now taking place. Many will need to be refitted for long range operations, and their crews trained in military concepts and tactics in place of those employed in local constabulary duties."

Narval twisted the rings on his fingers, and his tiny eyes seemed to sink deeper into surrounding flesh.

"The greatest single concern of the UIPS is the integrity of Slingshot and the Special Zone. I am convinced that the UIPS military forces, once they attain optimum strength, will attempt to crush me, or at the least, dominate the Zone.

"We must prepare to withstand, to resist, and to triumph over this UIPS aggression in the Outer Region."

Brad felt Narval's eyes on him.

"You are going to help me to prepare," Narval said.

Chapter TWENTY-TWO

Drummer expected the call.

"Drummer," Narval said as the door closed behind the guard and they were alone, "UIPS perception of me as a threat can be as effective a weapon as my transforming the threat into the deed itself."

Drummer chose caution. "How so, Mr. President?"

Narval peered sharply at Drummer as he leaned his heavy body back, and folded ring-encrusted hands across his paunch. He shifted his gaze to the ceiling and half-closed his eyes.

"The UIPS now perceives us as having demonstrated a capability for military actions against their vital interests. If we follow up with threats and menacing gestures against Slingshot, the effect may unnerve them, to say the least. How do you see it?"

"It seems to me we've gone far beyond mere threats," Drummer's tone, now grim, continued.

"Raiding and hara.s.sing their transports, attacking and destroying UIPS patrollers in the Zone, and now, the inventory tax. We formally notify them by Proclamation that we'll lay siege to the Log Depot, we've boarded one of their armed transports and disabled its armaments. These are not empty threats and impetuous gestures."

"Even so, they are prologue, Drummer. Hear me."

Narval twisted his rings, first in one direction then opposite. Lowering his eyes to his hands, he paused often between words, choosing them with care.

"Here in the Outer Region, the separate nations are convulsed by internal struggles for power both internal to their sovereignty and within the family of independent satellites that orbit their host planet. Their political philosophies are diverse, lack cohesion, and have powerful advocates or opponents, some openly, others covert. The Heads of State are insecure and fear political coups.

Rapid changes in leadership cannot be ruled out."

Drummer watched Narval eyes caress his entwined fingers.

"If new leaders arise and take over the reins of power from inc.u.mbents, so much the better for me. New governments will need time to become entrenched, create lines of authority and accountability, and install bureaucracies responsive to the wishes of a new elite. I repeat, confusion in the ranks, within other governments, is to my advantage."

"Can you count on such events materializing?"

"Of course not."