Timothy Zahn - Spinneret

"I don't know about you," Meredith told Stewart when the two astros were back inside, "but I'm ready to call it a day. It's obvious we're not going to find out anything more with the equipment you've got out there. I think we're going to have to bring the cable back here."

"As in Astran orbit, you mean?"

"As in groundside."

There was a long pause. "And how, may I ask, do you intend to land two kilometers of heavy cable?" Stewart asked. "Without endangering one of my shuttles, that is?"

Meredith looked at Brown, gestured toward the mike. "We've been studying the problem ever since the cable was discovered," Brown told the captain. "Given the length and stickiness, I think it would be most reasonable to wrap it around itself, pretzel fashion, and tow it into near orbit. Once there, you could put a remote booster and some parachutes on it and send it on down. There are lots of open areas we could drop it in—north of Wright might be good, since a lot of our heavier equipment is up there."

"Out of the question," Stewart said. "We'll tow it back to Astran orbit, but that's where it's going to stay. Bring it down and you'll never see it again under the layer of dirt it'll collect."

"And then you'll run off and report all of this to the Pentagon, right?" Meredith asked.

"In a few days, yes. Why?—Were you planning to keep it secret?"

"No. But once you're gone, what's to keep someone else— the Rooshrike, perhaps—from towing the cable back out of orbit?"

There was another long silence. "Do they know about the cable?" Stewart asked.

"I haven't the foggiest. You want to take that chance?"

"Damn." Stewart let out an audible breath. "Major Brown, let's hear those numbers you said you'd worked out."

In the end, with a maximum of difficulty and a minimum of actual damage, they brought the cable down.

It was known colloquially as the "silent room" because it was the only place in the White House proper that was absolutely guaranteed against all forms of audio, electronic, or laser-scan eavesdropping. Today, President Allerton reflected, it was even more silent than usual. There were none of the normal mutterings or whispered discussions among the assembled advisors, Cabinet officials, and military men; just the soft sounds of pages turning. Generally speaking, their faces made up for the lack of vocal expression.

Allerton gave them plenty of time before clearing his throat. "Well. Comments?"

General Klein got in first with the obvious one. "Unbelievable. Simply unbelievable. Something on Astra made this thing?"

National Security Advisor Thomas Morley was staring into space. "I trust you realize, Mr. President, how self-contradictory this report looks. A supersticky metal that doesn't show up on metal detectors? And stronger than graphite-boron sandwich but only four-fifths as dense as water?"

"I assure you, Mr. Morley," Captain Stewart said quietly, "that I was present while the cable was being tested. I don't understand any of it either, but the numbers are accurate."

"Wasn't implying they weren't," Morley said. "I was just anticipating what others are going to say when we release this."

"Why release it at all?" Admiral Hamill rumbled. "It was discovered by American citizens on an American colony—that makes it American property."

"Except that we're technically running it under a UN mandate," Allerton reminded him.

Hamill's snort concisely gave his own views on that.

"I think Tom's right, sir," Secretary of State Joshua Purvis spoke up. "We've complained all along that the UN should be footing more of Astra's bill.

Someone's bound to accuse us of making up this cable and this—this planet-sized spinneret for the sole purpose of stirring up interest and funding. And so far there doesn't appear to be any way to bring a section of the cable back here to show."

"Why do we have to show them anything?" Hamill persisted. "If you think we have to tell the UN, all right; but if they don't want to believe it that's their problem. I hope they don't, in fact, because that'll leave us free to send our experts out to study the thing."

On that point, at least, everyone was agreed, and the rest of the meeting was devoted to deciding on the procedure for recruiting the necessary scientists and getting them to Astra as quickly and quietly as possible. Afterward, Allerton put through scrambled phone calls to the British, Japanese, Soviet, and Chinese heads of state, whose reactions combined fascination and thinly veiled disbelief in about the proportions Allerton had expected. And lastly, he made a call to UN Secretary- General Saleh.

Saleh was silent for a long moment after Allerton had finished, his face almost expressionless as his eyes probed Allerton's own. "You would not," he said at last,

"insult me by creating such a ridiculous lie. What are your thoughts about this—did you call it Spinneret!"

Allerton shrugged. "Nothing I've heard the Ctencri say has even hinted at this type of technology. Particularly the gravity control the Spinneret exhibited—if the Ctencri or anyone else in the area had something like that they ought to at least be using it to launch spaceships."

"You can surely assume the Rooshrike had no inkling it was on Astra, also," Saleh ruminated. "Unless they had tried already to locate it and hoped we could do so for them … no. That makes no sense."

"I agree. Almost certainly this is completely unknown, at least in this part of space. And it's going to drastically change mankind's position in the interstellar trading community."

Saleh smiled sardonically. "As well as that of the U.S. in this community, of course." The smile faded. "I imagine your mandate will have to be reconsidered."

"I don't see why," Allerton said, keeping his voice steady. He'd known the Astran Mandate would quickly be altered—if not scrapped altogether—but had hoped disbelief in the report would slow the process. "We haven't broken any of the conditions of the agreement."

"Don't act naive. We both understand the politics involved … and how those politics have now changed."

"Certainly. But if those nations—and groups of nations— who thought Astra was an amusing albatross to hang around our neck think they can vote themselves a large piece of the pie we've discovered, they'd better check the fine print. The mandate can't be changed without Security Council approval, and last I checked we still had a veto there."

"Legally, of course, you're correct," Saleh conceded. "But I'll warn you that you'll face a great deal of worldwide public condemnation if you attempt to keep Astra's discoveries for yourself."

Allerton leaned back in his chair and favored Saleh with a faint smile. "Actually, Mr. Saleh, I think in a case like this I'd be perfectly willing to tell world opinion to go take a walk in hard vacuum. For once the United States is not going to back down from a perfectly legal and reasonable position just because someone else doesn't like it."

Saleh's face was still calm, but there was a glint in his eye. "I understand your feelings, perhaps better than you think. But I warn you against biting off more than you can chew. Remember that all contact with the Ctencri is still by way of the UN, including trade both ways. We have more teeth now than at any time in our history … and I know of quite a few nations that Would welcome the opportunity to test those teeth."

"Well, you tell them to go ahead and try it," Allerton said. "I think that as of right now we have a few new teeth ourselves. Good-bye, Mr. Saleh; I'll have a copy of this report sent over to you by secure messenger."

He broke the connection. I probably shouldn't have told him off like that, he thought, a bit guiltily. Saleh wasn't so bad, even if he was spokesman for the biggest unlanced boil in history. But every time a UN vote went down, he got a thousand irate letters demanding he do something, and up to now he'd always had to choke down the national pride and pretend he was above such petty politics.