Code of the Lifemaker By James P. Hogan

we’ve got between us in our little outfit.”

It had taken little imagination to see that supplying Terran weapons to the

inherently belligerent Paduans would completely destabilize the situation

between Padua and its neighboring states, and before very much longer the more

distant ones too. Other Taloid nations would seek similar weapons to secure

themselves against the threat of Paduan aggression—as indeed Genoa desired to do

already—and then others would feel threatened as those that hadn’t reequipped

their forces found themselves being intimidated by the ones that had. Eventually

all the Taloid states would be forced to follow suit, and in the process they

would be progressively reduced to a condition of vassal-dependency on Earth,

which would thus be able to negotiate separately with each on terms of its own

choosing. It was an old, familiar pattern, which earlier centuries on Earth had

seen repeated many times over.

Massey had composed a message summarizing the main points and had it transmitted

to Conlon via his private NASO channel. Eight hours later a reply stated that

Conlon had confronted some of the senior NASO officials with the allegations,

but their version of the facts, as advised from GSEC’s political liaison office

in Washington, was very different. It said, in effect, that Padua was a peaceful

nation whose leaders aspired toward Western democratic ideals, and that the

limited aid being given by the mission had been requested by the Paduan

authorities to combat incursions upon their territory from Genoa—an illegally

imposed rebel regime—and to relieve Paduan religious minorities who were being

persecuted within the Genoese borders. The decision to grant the request was

seen as a goodwill gesture that would help establish cordial and cooperative

future relationships. The situation back on Earth was still confused,

apparently, and would take a long time to resolve itself, especially in view of

the long turnaround of communications to Saturn. Zambendorf had not been

prepared to wait. “We’re not going to get any sense out of them for days,” he

had told Massey. “You’d better stay on the line here and keep in touch as things

develop. I’m going down to Titan to talk to Arthur.”

“What do you think you’re going to do, even if you manage to find some way of

getting down there?” Massey had asked.

“I have no idea, Gerry, but there’s no way I’m going to sit up here with this

kind of thing going on.”

Zambendorf’s thoughts were interrupted by Clarissa Eidstadt’s summons over the

intercom from the forward compartment. “Karl, can you get up here a minute?

We’ve got problems.”

Price turned away from the port and watched uneasily as Zambendorf stood up,

stepped carefully round the team’s recently completed second transmogrifier box,

and moved forward to the open doorway at the front of the cabin. Clarissa

glanced back at him from the captain’s seat, while in the copilot’s position

Otto Abaquaan was flipping switches frantically in front of an array of data

displays and readouts that were obviously unfamiliar to him. “It’s no good,”

Abaquaan said, shaking his head. “I can’t get the midrange to scale, and the

monitor recall has aborted. This isn’t making any sense.”

“What’s wrong?” Zambendorf asked.

“We’re losing it,” Clarissa said. There was a problem in fixing the flyer’s

position from the electronic navigation grid transmitted from the satellites

that the Orion had deployed shortly after arriving at Titan. Clarissa had warned

that it might happen without an experienced copilot-navigator to calibrate the

on-board reference system to the shifting satellite pattern as the flyer

descended. “We know we’re somewhere near where we need to go down through the

muck, but we don’t have a fine-tuned fix.”

“No go?” Zambendorf asked, looking at Abaquaan.

Abaquaan spread his hands. “Sorry, Karl. I thought I had it down okay when we

went through the routine up on the ship, but I guess it needs more practice.”

“It was worth a try,” Clarissa murmured.

“It’s not your fault there wasn’t more time, Otto,” Zambendorf said and turned

to Clarissa. “How serious is it? Can you take care of it?”

“Sure, but not while I’m flying this thing too. The easiest thing to do would be

to put down someplace and reinitiate the full sequence on the ground, without

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