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30: Definitions

There were three senior civil servants with Ackoff and Captain Greenaugh when Jeff arrived at the High Commissioner's office. The massive conference table was littered with overflowing ashtrays and dirty coffee cups.

Ackoff was preoccupied and his introductions were perfunctory. That was telling; Ackoff was generally impeccably polite. "Lieutenant, you know our First Secretary, Dr. Boyd? And Madame Goldstein and Mr. Singh. I presume you've completed your inspection of that colonial craft?"

"Yes, sir."

"An official inspection," Greenaugh said. "By our official observer."

Jeff winced at the irony in his commanding officer's voice.

"Report says the pilot's not in good shape. Is she all right?" Greenaugh asked.

Boy, and how! Jeff wanted to say. "She was shaken up rather badly, sir. They have her in Tombaugh's sick bay. She's cheerful enough. I think she's rather flattered by all the attention . . . ."

"Hardly surprising," Goldstein said.

"We will need your observations, Lieutenant," Commissioner Ackoff said. "We have a problem. What do we do with this?" He held up a parchment. "As you suspect, it's King David's formal application for admission of Prince Samual's World as a second-class space-faring planet. I expect it comes as no surprise to learn it begins with great professions of loyalty to the Empire . . . . He's got his prerogatives right, too. Self-government under Imperial defense and Imperial advice on extra-planetary policy. Official observers at Court. Representative in the lower house of Parliament. Willing to accept reasonable trade restrictions. And while this doesn't ask for it, you can be certain the next document we get will be a request for technological assistance. I would be interested in knowing how they learned so much about Imperial politics."

Dr. Boyd was a tall man, well rounded, going to fat but not quite there yet. "To be precise, about the structure of Imperial government as it existed before the last Reform Act," Boyd said. "They obtained excellent information, but much is somewhat out of date. A deficiency I think Mr. Soliman's people will remedy shortly."

Jeff muttered something.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" Ackoff asked.

"Nothing, sir. It doesn't seem to me that Trader Soliman's firm would be too happy at losing a colony world since they've got the trade concession."

"On the contrary," Dr. Boyd said. "Trader Soliman's on-planet factor has already attached a letter recommending that this application be approved."

"I don't understand," Jeff said.

Ackoff smiled grimly. "The situation is rather delicate . . . . Tell me, Lieutenant, how much of that craft represents imported technology?"

"It's hard to say, sir," Jeff answered. He spoke carefully, knowing his career was at stake in this meeting. And not just mine, he thought. All of us. We let them do this right under our noses, and someone's going to pay— "The, uh, craft is unbelievably primitive. I wondered why they were so mass-conscious, but it's obvious as soon as you board the thing. Take the gyros for instance. They're huge. They have to be, because they're mechanically coupled to the attitude jets."

"Mechanically coupled?" Rosa Goldstein said. Her voice was incredulous. "Mechanically?"

"Yes. They didn't know how to do it electronically. The whole craft is that way. Good ideas, but very primitive in implementation. Some of the workmanship is splendid, but it was all done by handcraft."

"It was implemented well enough to get to space," Ackoff said.

"It's ridiculous on the face of it," Third Secretary Singh said. "A tiny handmade capsule able to put one person in orbit is not a spaceship!"

"Have you found a technical definition of a spaceship?" Ackoff asked.

Singh looked chagrined. "No, Your Excellency."

"Nor have I. I suspect there is none," Dr. Boyd said. "Therefore we may accept their definition or not, as we choose. If we do not, they will certainly appeal." He paused thoughtfully. "I wonder just how we'd look pleading this case before a high tribunal?"

"Fairly silly," Goldstein said. "Some of the Lords Judges have a sense of humor. And of course we would have to explain how we let it happen."

"Not to mention the time and trouble involved in preparing the case," Boyd continued. "Transportation of witnesses. Investigations. Depositions. The cost would not be trivial."

"Returning to my previous question," Ackoff said. "Lieutenant, would you swear that ship was locally designed without benefit of knowledge obtained on Makassar?"

"No, sir. I'm certain it's not. Do they say it is?"

"No," Greenaugh said.

"Which is why this is no small matter," Ackoff said. "And why Trader Soliman's firm will provide them with the best possible legal assistance if it comes to trial." He smiled thinly. "Very clever, that Lord Dougal of theirs. He pointed out to Soliman's factor that if Prince Samual's world is admitted as a Classified Member, then their importation of space-flight technology is quite legal. If not— then we've all failed in our duties. Especially Soliman."

"And the Navy," Greenaugh said. "We inspected their cargo on return."

Jeff nodded. He'd been ready for that one. "To be exact, I did."

"Not that you'll be the only one with his arse in a crack," Greenaugh said. "I'll have to stand up with you."

Dr. Boyd cleared his throat. "I really see little to discuss," he said. "If we accept their application, we will look slightly ridiculous, but it's not likely to become a notorious decision. Few families have been selected as colonists, and no important ones. The ITA won't be troublesome. Quite the opposite; it's very much in Soliman's interest to keep things quiet. The church has never approved of colonization, and I understand King David is preparing the documents submitting his state church to New Rome, which cannot displease His Holiness." He ticked off points on his fingers. "Thus if we accept, there is little opposition to our decision. If we reject their application, we will be subject to well-financed appeals, including, I should fancy, a personal appeal from King David to the Royal Family itself." He spread his hands wide and brought them together. "QED. Lieutenant, are you not prepared to testify that Prince Samual's World has launched a spaceship and therefore technically qualifies as a world with limited space-faring capabilities?"

"Sir, I'd hate to defend calling that thing a spaceship," Jeff said. "At least not in a courtroom."

"With any luck, you won't be in court," Ackoff reminded him.

And it's obvious what answer they want, Jeff thought. How the devil did I get in this mess? But there sure as hell doesn't look like but one way out. "I just don't know."

"Let's see how to put it," Goldstein said. She looked thoughtful. "The supporting documents ought to be signed by Captain Greenaugh as well as the lieutenant. Captain, will you accept this: 'In the absence of challenge by any interested party, we conclude that the craft qualifies as a spacecraft of marginal performance characteristics, and may be accepted as evidence of limited space-faring capability existing on Prince Samual's World at the time of application for membership.'?"

Greenaugh thought for a moment. "Yes. I can sign that. Jefferson?"

"Of course, sir."

"Then are we agreed?" Ackoff asked. "Good. Madam Goldstein, if you would be so kind—"

There was a slight whirring, and a paper emerged from a slot in the end table next to Ackoff. He took it and scanned it quickly, then passed it to Greenaugh.

Greenaugh signed and handed it to Jeff.

"If you please, Lieutenant," Ackoff said. "Thank you." He took the document and laid it carefully on top of King David's parchment. "That's settled, then."

"There's another matter," Greenaugh said.

"And that is?"

"We've been made fools of. Someone's going to pay for that."

"I shouldn't be too hasty," Ackoff said.

"Allow me, Sir Alexei," Dr. Boyd said. "Captain, while your desire is understandable, have you thought through the consequences? What end would be served?"

"You can't let colonials make fools of the Navy and get away with it," Greenaugh said.

"It is hardly a situation likely to arise again," Boyd said. "As to being made a fool, I'd rather be thought a generous fool than a mean and petty one."

Greenaugh stood and bowed coldly to Ackoff. "I see there's no point in my being here," he said. "With your permission, I'll leave." He turned and stalked out of the room.

"That could be a problem," Goldstein said. "He wants someone's blood."

"I'll speak to him later," Ackoff said. "After all, we are the ones who must live with the consequences of what he does." He looked thoughtful for a moment, then turned to Jefferson. "Lieutenant, I don't think it would be wise to repeat anything you've heard in this room today."

"No, sir."

"Also, you will probably want to put your affairs in order. I doubt that your ship will be in this system much longer. Given the changed state of affairs here, we will need a somewhat different sort of naval assistance."

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you for coming."

"Yes, sir," Jefferson said. "If you'll excuse me—" As Jeff left the office, Boyd was saying. "It does seem possible to comply with the captain's wishes and at the same time solve another pressing problem—" Jeff let himself out of the office. By the time he reached the stairway, he was whistling to himself.

Regular Navy not needed, he thought. Colonists not needed. Well, that's one decision made for me, not that I really needed help making it. They won't be accepting transfers from the Navy to the civil service. Particularly not mine!

Now how am I going to tell Elaine?

Tell her any damned way you like, he told himself. You're going to space again!

He took the steps three at a time.

 

An octopus of wires stretched upward to a bewildering array of dials and buttons. At one end the octopus terminated in electrodes attached to Mary's abdomen; its other end vanished into a bulkhead of Tombaugh's sick bay. She'd already learned to call it a bulkhead rather than a wall.

The Navy physician removed the last of the electrodes from her belly. "You can put your clothes on now," he said. He seemed quite impersonal, although he'd been friendly enough in the wardroom two hours before. He held a shadowy photograph to the light. She'd heard him call it an X-ray, and he'd told her it showed a picture of her insides. She would have liked to study it, but she didn't quite know how to ask.

"How am I doing?" Mary asked.

"You'll be all right," Lieutenant Commander Terry said. He looked at the X-ray again. "That treatment should do it. If it doesn't, we'll need to do some slicing." He saw her look of dismay. "Didn't mean to scare you. Routine, actually. You're a standard chromotype. Regeneration stimulators work fine on you. Problem is, sometimes it's easier to remove something and get it to grow back than to fix the original parts. Either way, you'll be fine."

"But what was wrong?"

"Vibration. Enough to tear some intestinal mesentaries. They'll grow back, but I'm worried about adhesions."

"That sounds serious."

"Not really. You'll have to take it easy for a bit, that's all. Nothing strenuous."

"I—" She was embarrassed, but it had to be said. "I was hoping to be married. Quite soon."

"Hmm. Honeymoon wouldn't be very interesting for a while," he said. "But we'll get all that fixed, too. You'll be fine."

"You're sure?" The honeymoon could wait. It wasn't as if they were impatient virgins. But— "Are you really sure?"

"Yes, ma'am." Commander Terry's smile was reassuring. "I may not have had a lot of experience treating women's problems, but yours is quite simple. Nothing wrong with the reproductive system. Just intestinal tissue. I'll have you right in a few weeks."

"I didn't think you could treat colonials," Mary said.

"We can't, as a usual rule, but of course the rules don't apply to prisoners."

"Prisoners? But—"

"Didn't you know? Sorry," he said. "I thought they'd told you. Captain Greenaugh sent up an arrest order three hours ago. You've been charged with interfering with the orderly development of Makassar."

 

 

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