Timothy Zahn - Spinneret

Glancing at the room's clock, he rang the galley and ordered another pot of tea. It would be ten more minutes before the Indian computer man—Udani—was due to report in.

Meredith read the report through twice, feeling the tightening of his stomach muscles that had become almost as common as inhaling for him. The bombshell he'd known was coming had done so … and at the worst time he could have imagined. Flicking the page from his screen back to the secure file, he muttered a curse and leaned back, gazing at the snow outside his window.

The timing was ultimately his own fault, of course, which was probably what rankled the most. Carmen had originally suggested Council terms of one year; it had been his idea to cut that to six months. At the time it had seemed harmless enough … but at the time there'd been no Spinneret and no Spinneret profits. Or hot debate as to what to do with them.

The real problem was that both of the main factions had reasonable positions, a fact that made Meredith's job as ultimate decision maker all the stickier. Perez, as usual, was pushing for immediate—if somewhat selective—immigration, arguing that while trapped in unfair sociopolitical systems the poor of Earth had no chance to improve themselves, no matter how much aid was given them. On the other hand, the group adopting Hafner's "In Loco option" pointed out the vulnerability of the Spinneret to takeover and possibly sabotage, and claimed to have developed a method by which unfair Third World governments could be successfully bypassed in giving assistance to their people. With Hafner on his crutches as their symbol and most credible spokesman, they were successfully cultivating the xenophobia that had simmered at a low level ever since the UN had tried to take over back in August. With only three weeks left before the election, the campaigning was beginning to get uncomfortably warm … and relationships between the five supervisors increasingly strained.

And now this.

Raising his wrist, Meredith punched Carmen's number into his phone. There was no answer; disconnecting, he keyed for the Spinner cavern duty officer and left a message. Then, pulling his chair up to the desk again, he called up the main supply inventory and started to assemble the equipment he half hoped he wouldn't be needing.

He'd finished that job and was busy typing in a detailed interim instruction list when Carmen arrived. "You wanted to see me?" she asked, closing the door behind her.

"Yes." Meredith waved to a seat. "I need the lifeboat ready to fly before morning.

Can it be done?"

Carmen froze halfway down to the chair seat, her eyes widening. "By morning!"

"Yes. You know how to handle it yet?"

Slowly, she sank the rest of the way to the chair, expelling a breath through pursed lips. "I don't know what to say. Yes, we've got all the controls relabled, and the operating manual we found on the computer makes the thing sound absurdly easy to run. But there's no way to check the engines or other gear until we understand how they work, and that's a long way in the future."

Meredith nodded. "It's a risk we'll have to take—though given the Spinneret's performance record I think it's a pretty safe one. All right. I want you, Dr. Hafner, and Dr. Williams to go back in there immediately, do all the checking you can and try to figure out the launch sequence. You said once that the navigation system was designed for children—does that still hold?"

She nodded. "The computer displays your choices on a map and all you have to do is indicate which one you want. The selection's sort of odd; it includes only a few of the stars shown, but all of them are listed as being only five to fifteen days'

flight away."

"Maybe it only lists the places emergency facilities were available," Meredith grunted. "All right. I'll be there sometime tonight with the supplies we'll need and our other passenger."

"Yes, sir." Her tongue flicked across her lips. "Uh … may I ask … what's going on?"

Meredith sighed. "What's going on is the collision of three major events: the upcoming elections, the discovery of that Spinner lifeboat"—he hesitated—"and the cracking of the Gorgon's Head security system this morning."

Carmen's jaw dropped. "You mean the supervisor programming? I didn't realize Udani and Ermakov were that close."

"Apparently they were," Meredith said, sliding over the details. There were some things he didn't yet want Carmen to know. "You see the potential crisis, I'm sure.

The five of us supervisors no longer have exclusive power over control tower access. We can now give everyone on Astra the ability to walk into restricted areas if we want to."

"Or anyone from the UN," she added quietly. "Is that what you're afraid of, that someone will leak that information to Msuya and bring down an attack?"

"That, and the nasty political games that could be played with it right here.

Dunlop's coup failed largely because his only access to the tower was an untrustworthy hostage. What would happen if Perez, say, sneaked a dozen of his allies in there and made them supervisors?"

"Cris wouldn't do a thing like that," Carmen defended the other. But she nevertheless looked uncomfortable.

"Then those dozen fanatics haul him bodily into the tower and do the job themselves," Meredith shrugged. "The end result's the same."

Carmen nodded reluctantly. "I don't suppose we could classify the details or something."

Not hardly. "It wouldn't stay classified long enough," he said aloud. "In fact, as soon as it becomes public that we've got the code there's likely to be a political struggle for control of it."

"So how is taking a trip in the Spinner ship going to help?"

"It may allow us to buy some time by defusing the current battle over what we're going to do with our money. I'd rather not say any more about it just now."

Slowly, Carmen got to her feet. "I hope you know what you're doing," she said.

"I'll get Peter and Loretta back to work right away. I presume I can tell them what we're doing once we're back aboard?"

"I suppose you'll have to." Meredith hesitated, then opened his middle desk drawer and withdrew a small stunner. "Neither of them is to return to the cavern once they know," he added quietly, handing her the weapon.

Her face was tight as she accepted it, holding it for a moment before slipping it into her side coat pocket. Then, without a word, she left.

Meredith waited until the door was again closed before exhaling loudly with frustration and relief. He could count on Carmen to do the job he'd given her …

but he wished mightily he hadn't had to drop this on her shoulders. But there were so few people on Astra he could really trust.

And in the next hour he made calls to all of them, giving orders and alerting them to the special files he was setting up. After that he stretched out on his office cot and took a nap in anticipation of the long evening ahead.

It was pitch dark by the time he arrived at the security fence that now surrounded the tunnel entrance and the buildings grouped around it. The sentries passed his car through, and a few minutes later he was driving down the long tunnel, doffing his coat one-handedly as the winter outside gradually changed to the constant late spring of the cavern climate control.

Major Barner was waiting for him at the operations center, and together they drove to the Great Wall. There they transferred the supplies Meredith had brought from Unie into two of the open-roofed golf carts and drove to the tower. Parking next to the two carts already there, they rode the elevator to the top.

"Hello, Colonel; Major," Perez nodded as they walked into the main control room.

"I thought mine was the last shift in here today."