depot and that
gaggle of transport and other vessels that
constantly hover about. They will be the main
bargaining chip when I give my ultimatum to Camari."

Brad nodded, his features closed.

Drummer looked dubious. He said, "That means we
must have the depot under our control when you
speak to President Camari."

"Sound conclusion," Narval replied caustically.
"Now, Drummer, is the time for you, my chief
diplomat, to engage in a bit of manipulation and
encouragement among our allies -- in my name
and behalf, of course.

"We'll do this one step at a time. Prepare personal
messages from me to the heads of INOR governments.
Remind them of our past agreements to stand
together to resist incursions by the UIPS. Point
out that Camari's invitation presents us with an
excellent opportunity to exert our combined will
on this issue. Then, state my intention to take
temporary control of the Slingshot Logistics
Depot to add weight to our persuasions. Are my
instructions clear?"

"They are, Mr. President."

"Good. Emphasize the need for us to act in concert
to bring peace and prosperity to the Outer Region.
Lay it on thick about how we can demonstrate our
unity of purpose to Camari, and harmony among
ourselves if we join forces. This shouldn't be
a surprise to them; it was the purpose of the
planning at the Neptune meeting. Wasn't it, Brad?"

"It was."

"Here, then, is my first objective, Drummer. I want
the INOR warships that were committed at the Neptune
meeting to be alongside ours to take over the Depot.
The Depot must be ours before the conference
gets under way. That is vital to our purpose. In the
message, say that now is the time to strike. Insist
that they send their ships as quickly as possible
to join in the operation. Also, and be shrewd in
presenting this: INOR ship commanders are to be
subordinate to and carry out the orders of the
Plutonian Fleet Commander for the duration of this
operation. Clear?"

"Clear, Mr. President."

Chapter THIRTY-THREE

Narval sat hunched over as Drummer and Brad
entered. He did not wait for them to approach.

"Well? Speak up, Drummer," he snapped. "Don't
wait for a special invitation."

"The replies to your message have come in, Mr.
President. They are all in the affirmative. Their
fleets are getting ready."

"Ah hah!"

Narval's head shot up, and he straightened as
much as his deeply cushioned chair would allow. He
patted the top of his desk,