“Got me—”
“That may not be the best way to put it,” Rottermill said. “If we were concerned with legalities, we’d have you. But of course that’s not part of our job here. Sergeant, why don’t you find us something to drink? Would you care for a brandy, Mrs. Chang?”
“Captain Rottermill, I would love a brandy.”
“Good. Now let’s get square with each other. So far the only people who know about this conversation are you, me, Sergeant Bielskis, and Captain Alana.”
“Captain Catherine Alana?”
“Of course. She’s a witness. Would you like her to join us?”
“Why not, if she’s going to listen?”
“Very well. Now, as I say, this hasn’t gone very far yet. There’s no reason for it to reach the governor unless you want it to.”
“Well—I’d really rather not disturb him,” Ann said.
Rottermill smiled briefly. “Precisely. So why don’t you just tell us all about it.”
“All about what?” Ann said.
“Mrs. Chang, I can’t turn you over to Sergeant Bielskis without the governor’s consent, and I’d really hate to go ask him for that, but I will if I have to.”
The door opened and Catherine Alana came in. She carried a tray with a brandy decanter and glasses.
“I used to think you were nice,” Ann Chang said. “That was you I saw outside Government House today, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, dear, you weren’t supposed to recognize me,” Catherine said.
“So you knew, even then,” Ann mused. “All right, what do you want to know?”
“To start with, how long you’ve been cooperating with the rebels,” Rottermill said.
Ann laughed. “That’s easy. Since about three o’clock yesterday afternoon.”
Rottermill was shocked.
That got him! “I do believe your boss is nonplussed,” Ann said to Captain Alana. “But it’s true. I’m afraid if you want to ‘turn’ me and use me as a double agent, it won’t work. You see, I’m not a rebel.”
Rottermill glanced down at his oversized wristwatch and frowned. “I believe you. So why were you withholding important information from the governor?”
“Yes, of course, that is the question. I’d really rather not say—”
“Mrs. Chang,” Rottermill said. “We can find out. But if my OSI people start moving around Government House, we won’t be able to keep anything a secret. Won’t it be better for all of us if we keep it among ourselves?”
Ann sighed. “Oh, I suppose so. May I have that brandy now? Thank you. Well, it started with a request for a dinosaur permit. . . .”
* * *
Everett Mardon stared at the uniformed men on his doorstep. “Let me get this straight. Mrs. Chang wants me to come with you to Colonel Falkenberg’s camp?”
“Yes, sir,” the sergeant said. “Here’s her note, and she sent this compact along. Said you’d recognize it. Said to tell you it’s something to do with keeping a promise she recently made to you.”
Alicia called from the other room. “Who is it, Ev?”
“Some people your mother sent,” Everett said. “She wants to see me tonight.”
“What? But we’re playing bridge at the Hendersons’!”
The sergeant coughed. “I was told to keep this as informal as possible, sir.”
“Meaning I don’t really have a choice?” Everett demanded.
The soldier shrugged.
“I see. Alicia, you’ll have to call Brenda and tell her we can’t make it. I really do have to go.”
“Good thinking,” Sergeant Bielskis said.
Alicia Mardon tried to telephone Brenda Henderson but the phone was dead. A few minutes later a very helpful young technician arrived. It would take a while to get the phone working, he said; but he’d be sure to see the Hendersons got the message.
* * *
Half a dozen men were clustered around the map table in the regiment’s conference room. When Lysander was ushered in, Governor Blaine raised a questioning eyebrow at Falkenberg.
“Prince Lysander located the enemy’s headquarters,” Falkenberg said.
Lysander opened his mouth to correct Falkenberg, then thought better of it.
“Did he? Congratulations, Your Highness.” Blaine turned back to his inspection of the map table. “Rochemont. I knew the Girerds had a major hand in this mess, but I hadn’t thought they’d get them this dirty.” He shrugged. “So now we know where they’re probably storing the borloi. But—as I understand it, Colonel, you haven’t the ability simply to take the place by storm.”
“That’s about the size of it,” Falkenberg said. “Not even if we commandeered every air-transport vehicle on the planet. Barton’s got more than enough anti-air defenses to hold that place long enough to get the stuff out.” Falkenberg smiled faintly. “Of course we could very likely manage to destroy it.”
“Good Lord,” Blaine said. “Colonel, please! Assure me that won’t happen. It’s all Bronson’s people would need to put Grand Admiral Lermontov in a cleft stick. Not to mention the whole Grant faction in the Senate.”
“We’ll take every precaution, Governor,” Falkenberg said. “So, I imagine, will Barton’s Bulldogs.”
“That’s certain,” Amos Fast said. “If that crop’s lost, there’s nothing to pay him with.”
“It occurs to me,” Major Savage said, “that Major Barton must have made contingency plans. Specifically, he must have a way to remove the merchandise on short notice.”
“Well, now that his ship’s here, he can just send for the landing boats, can’t he?” Captain Fast said.
Governor Blaine frowned. “Ship? What—”
“CDMS Norton Star. An asset of Amalgamated Foundries, Inc.”
“Here now? In orbit? Why the devil wasn’t I told?” Blaine demanded.
“We’ll get to that,” Falkenberg said. “Amos, you’ve got a firm ID on the ship? Good. What do we have on her?”
“Unscheduled merchantman,” Fast said. He tapped keys on the control console. “Carries her own landing boat. One moment, sir—there’s more coming in. Ahah. She’s commanded by one Captain Nakata, formerly of the Imperial Meiji fleet. Let’s see what we have on him . . . Hmm. As of last spring there was a Lieutenant Commander Yoshino Nakata on the rolls. Four standard years’ service as skipper of an assault carrier.”
Major Savage whistled softly.
“Good Lord.” Blaine stared at the map. “An assault carrier commander, an experienced one at that, skippering a tramp merchantman with her own landing ship. My God, Colonel! I’ve been at Rochemont. It’s on an inlet, you know—the deep water runs almost all the way to the main compound. A landing ship could—”
“Exactly,” Falkenberg said. “That’s the assumption we’re working on.”
“Well, damn it, Colonel, what are you going to do about it?”
“That’s what we’re here to decide, sir,” Falkenberg said.
“Governor,” Captain Fast said, “The Kuryev’s still in the system. You could recall her—”
“To do what?” Blaine asked.
“Recover the cargo from Nakata,” Fast said. “If Kuryev gets here before Norton Star’s boat takes the stuff off planet, there’s no harm done—we just borrow Kuryev’s assault boats and go in ourselves.”
“Captain, that’s absurd,” Blaine said. “First, I’ve no authority whatever to order a CD warship to board a CD merchantman—”
“Not even to seize contraband, sir?” Fast suggested.
“Borloi’s not contraband, Captain. And you can be sure Norton Star will have a perfectly legal bill of sale for anything anyone might find on board,” Blaine said. “I suppose I could claim we’re sequestering goods against payment of taxes, but I don’t for a minute think the CD Council would back me up. Sure, they might order Amalgamated Foundries to pay taxes and imposts, but I have no doubt the Council will turn the cargo right back over to them.”
“Excuse me, Governor,” Prince Lysander said. “I’m a little confused. Aren’t the planters committing a crime—even an act of rebellion—by keeping back their crops?”
“Of course they are. But it’s only a crime on Tanith,” Blaine said. “The regulation that says all borloi has to be sold to the Lederle Trust is a perfectly legal Order in Council; but it’s an internal matter, quite outside the jurisdiction of the CD. Surely the circumstances are similar on Sparta. The CoDominium isn’t likely to enforce your domestic regulations.”
“Yes, of course. But somehow I thought it might be different here, since this is a CD planet—”
“I take it then,” Major Savage said carefully, “that in this case possession is considerably more than nine points of the law.”
“Which leaves us exactly where we started,” Captain Fast growled. “We can’t just take Rochemont because we don’t have transport to get enough troops there fast enough. Meanwhile, any minute now they could just drop in and pick up the stuff.”
“At least the governor can refuse to give them a landing permit,” Lysander said.
“Not that it would do any good,” Blaine said. “Tanith doesn’t have planetary defenses or warships. If they want to land, there’s nothing to stop them.”
“Besides, they already have a landing permit,” Captain Fast said.
“What! How—”
“Approved by your office, Governor,” Fast replied.
“How the—Colonel—”
“Later, please, Governor. At the moment we seem to have ourselves a problem.”
* * *