is chair.

Ram bent and whispered into Camari's ear. His
urgent manner and Camari's close attention stirred
the conferees. Several at the table and in the
seats beyond glanced at each other, eyebrows
raised; others eyed Narval. This was to have been
his show.

Narval sat motionless, eyes hooded, his normally
ruddy face visibly graying.

Camari held up his hand for attention. It was an
unnecessary gesture; all eyes had been on him and
Ram from the moment Ram entered.

"I understand an unusual spunnel communication has
arrived from the Planet Pluto Special Zone." Camari
announced. "It is addressed to all Heads of State
attending this convocation. The message calls for
an audio-visual presentation in the view tank. Any
objections?"

Without waiting for a response, he nodded over his
shoulder. Ram murmured into the tiny transmitter
in his hand.

The view tank, centered above the conference
table, lost its soft neutral glow, blinked, and the
Planet Pluto sector appeared. The tank displayed
the debris of a space battle: ruptured ships,
unrecognizable masses and fragments, and bloated
human bodies. In the background were the Slingshot
Terminals, intact.

From around the table came sounds of breath
drawn sharply, gasps and muttered curses.

The view narrowed and zoomed in on a broad sheet
of drifting metal. It bore the emblem of the Jovian
Combined Strike Team. Large letters emblazoned
above the emblem spelled out the partial word
"Windst..."

All eyes in the room were spellbound, fixed on the
tank. All, except for President Pazzim of Callisto.
At the sight of a drifting scrap that had once been
the pride of his fleet, he groaned loudly, hunched
his shoulders and lowered his head. He did not look
up again.

The hull of a battle cruiser formed along the
tank's outer edge and tumbled slowly end over end
toward center. Bow collapsed, the ship drifted into
and out of view. Experts from the back seats leaned
forward and whispered. The lifeless hulk had been
the Plutonian Battle Cruiser Dragon.

Camari shifted his eyes to Narval, half up from
his seat, face putty-white, lips quivering, eyes
transfixed on the view tank. Tearing his eyes
away, he pointed at Camari and screeched.

"It's a trap." His voice trembled in panic and
became a wail. "This is another stratagem
concocted by Camari to frighten us."

He gestured wildly and his mouth dribbled. "I know
your ways, Camari. You're trying to divide and pit