Spheres of Influence

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Spheres of Influence Page 7

by Bob Mauldin

“And why not, Captain? No matter today’s outcome, I will still be somebody’s attaché. But I was talking about your relative newness to... power... shall we say? And in reference to your subordinates, I was going to say that you looked uncomfortable with having servants. And that is surely what they are. I was going to offer you some advice...”

  “Herr Juergens, advice I have coming out of my ears. But oddly, I still don’t have enough. I would appreciate what you have to say.”

  “You are most gracious, Captain. I was going to say that you should let your people wait on you. They feel useful and happy, and you can get more done. I’ve seen this before. New leaders come before the council, and they don’t know how to appear effective. Remember, in this line of work, appearances are everything. Accept your subordinates as if they are your due. Just don’t treat them that way. There’s a fine line there, and the best politicians learn it early.”

  “Politicians! I’m no politician. How dare you think that!”

  Heinrich saw that he’d finally reached Lucy’s core. That kind of anger ultimately signaled final acceptance. “I beg to differ, Captain. For just a moment, let your mind accept the premise that you are a politician. How did you arrive at that exalted status? By acclamation, of course. Your peers voted you into place. They gave you authority over them. And now you are here to speak before the United Nations Security Council. How is that possible for the daughter of John and Darla Grimes? Because she is the head of the most powerful yet smallest group of people ever to exist.”

  Heinrich stopped and took a sip from the dainty cup in his hand. “Some of the finest china in the world,” he said admiringly, then returned to his original tack. “Accept it, Captain. Once you do, your life will be much less... stressful. I speak as one who has seen many of the leaders of the world pass by me. Even I am one of those people. The subordinates, that is. I have someone I answer to. So I have a unique perspective, don’t you think? And as one of those subordinates, I can say that we truly thrive on it if treated properly. There are those who lead and those who follow. Fate decides which. And you, Captain, are one of the leaders, whether you like it or not.”

  During the attaché’s impassioned speech, Lucy had laid her head back on the couch and closed her eyes. “Why should I believe you, Herr Juergens?” she asked.

  “Because, Captain, once you’ve finished speaking before the Council, I’d like to apply to be your first volunteer after the embassy gets established here in Switzerland. I told you, I’m a follower, not a leader. And I would consider it a privilege to be attaché to the senior Terran Alliance officer.”

  “I’ll think about it, Herr Juergens.”

  Better the spy you know than the one you don’t. And I may get some use out of him.

  Seeing the smile flicker across his face, Lucy remarked, “I may be from Ohio, Herr Juergens, but I am most certainly not from the sticks. I think you wanted me to see that smile, or I never would have. So what do you wish to say? And do me a favor, will you? Leave out the diplomatique. Just tell me in plain English.”

  “You think me a spy, and you think that in the knowing, you are safe. And now you will deny that, not wanting to be revealed to have such callous thoughts. But I warned you, I am adept at this business. It is to me what flying in space is to you. Here, I have an effect on the thin air of global politics. I have seen many pass through these rooms, and in you I see promise. It is my desire that you appear confident and competent at tomorrow’s council meeting, and more importantly, at the gala that will be sure to follow a successful conclusion of tomorrow’s meeting.”

  “Gala? Maybe I am a country girl after all. Explain a gala, please.”

  “Held here in Zurich,” Heinrich began, “it means royalty. A baron and a few earls, high-ranking members of society, higher-ranking members of various military organizations, some ambassadors, and just possibly, a few heads of state will be on hand to meet you and your staff. I realize that on the face of it, you think you won’t be able to function in such an environment, but you can. Again, I have seen much, and you have the determination and stamina for it. The others will enjoy themselves. You’ll be miserable, and that’s because you care about the opinions of those around you. And you should. It does matter, but the difference is that the burden rests squarely on your shoulders, and you want to succeed.”

  Leaning back in his chair, Heinrich studied Lucy. “Have I frightened you? I have but told the truth, about you as well as your situation. And to ease your mind, I have the privilege of being assigned as your personal guide and liaison during your stay.”

  “Ter-bloody-rific,” she muttered.

  In a two-hundred-year-old building, the Security Council met in special session. Not normally the setting of such rarefied discussions, the building had been pressed into service so the council could meet in secret with Lucy. The secret was only to be kept from Joe Average, but nonetheless, there were several hundred people outside when her motorcade arrived.

  Surrounded by guards and staff, Lucy walked the gauntlet of spectators from the limousine to the steps. When she slowed to answer a question from the crowd, Herr Juergens subtly pushed her forward.

  “Not now, please. If you answer one question, you’ll be here all day, and the Council is waiting.”

  Feeling put out by the incident, Lucy strode up the steps and into the darkened cavern of the foyer.

  Commander Pike met her inside the entrance. “I took the liberty of going on ahead to check security,” he said. “If you’ll follow me, ma’am, there’s a room prepared for you to wait in until the Council calls you. I’ve been assured that you won’t have long to wait.”

  “That is most certainly the case, Commander,” Juergens said. “If you’ll excuse me, I must go inform the Council of your arrival.”

  Lucy stood in front of a gilt-edged mirror and examined her appearance. “Are you sure this is appropriate, Marsha?”

  “Lucy, you need to put on a show here, style as well as substance. Your speech will be the substance, your appearance the style.” Marsha stood behind her and tugged on the uniform jacket. “You look fine. This is what all the up-and-coming Terran Alliance officers will wear for dress occasions.”

  Designed by Gayle, the uniform each member of the party was wearing was basically the same as a duty uniform—a finer-quality material, of course, and fewer pockets as had been discussed once long ago. Lucy’s golden captain’s comets were now surrounded by a gold wreath, and the thin golden stripes up the legs of her pants were a direct steal from US military uniforms, as were the four stripes around the cuffs of her jacket.

  “I feel like an attraction in a circus!”

  Marsha looked herself over and swiped at a piece of lint. More understated, the other uniforms had less braid around the jacket cuffs, giving the visual impression that Lucy was in charge. And it works to perfection, Marsha thought.

  Heinrich walked into the room in his Special Attaché persona. “First Captain, Captain, Commanders, if you will follow me, the Council requests your presence.” He led them to an ordinary wooden door. “It is amazing to me how much of a symbol a door is,” he mused aloud. “They can signify endings, as in ‘closing the door on a chapter of your life,’ or a beginning, as in ‘opening a door on a bright new future.’ I sincerely hope you and your people open it onto a bright future, First Captain. I offer this advice: on the other side of this door, speak only the truth as you see it. If you truly want a bright future, it cannot be built on lies and deception.” He glanced at his watch and said, “And now your turn has come. Good luck.” With the last word, he opened the door and stood aside.

  Since the Security Council was not in its customary building, having come to Switzerland so as not to appear to snub their noses at the Alliance by making them meet on American soil, the four Alliance officers walked directly into the middle of the special session for which this meeting had been arranged. Their appearance was surely expected because Lucy heard not a sound as
several hundred pairs of eyes examined her and her friends.

  Looking around, Lucy located the chairman and broke the silence. “Sir, I am Lucy... Lucille Grimes, First Captain of the Terran Alliance, and I have come to you today to ask for your assistance.”

  The face of the man who answered her could have belonged to anybody’s grandfather. The eyes belonged to... she didn’t like where her thoughts were leading her and looked away from the eyes. The feeling of being ten years old again and sitting in the principal’s office was so strong she almost laughed out loud.

  “What would you have this Council do?” he asked, breaking the spell.

  “All I ask is that you listen to what I have to say. If after that, if you have any questions, I and my colleagues will be ready to answer.”

  “I call for a voice-vote,” the man announced loudly. “And in the interests of saving time, I ask only, does anyone vote against allowing First Captain Grimes to speak?”

  When several seconds had passed in silence, he waved to the dais. “First Captain, you have the floor.”

  Lucy stepped onto the dais, turned to the assembled crowd, and faltered. The looks of interest, boredom, and amusement, she could take. It was the hostility she saw in some of the faces that caused her to hesitate.

  Marsha caught her eye and crooked a finger, and when Lucy bent down, whispered, “Remember, they’re as afraid of you as you are of them. Give ‘em both barrels!”

  Lucy took a deep breath and launched into her prepared speech. “We stand, by purest luck, on the real last frontier. Once thought to be Alaska, then the ocean, and finally the moon, space is the true last frontier. And we have a chance to exploit our luck.

  “By now, you all know how we came into possession of this marvelous ship,” Talking about familiar things and ideas helped put an end to her nervousness, and she warmed to her subject. “You’ve all seen some of the things it, or its technology, can do—both good and bad. I stand before you today to ask for three embassies on Earth. The Terran Alliance promotes the same values that the United States of America and most other nations around the world today do—freedom from persecution of any kind, and equal opportunity for all regardless of race, gender, creed, or color. What we ask for are a few paltry acres of ground and the same basic liberties for our people that would be offered to anyone in a free world. What we offer is a bright new future—a future where everyone has enough to eat, a future where the power to heat a home in winter and cool it in summer will be available to all, and a future where pollutants in your air, water, and land will be things of the past.

  “For three embassies on Earth, we offer all this. For the right to accept volunteers into the Alliance, we offer this. As a gesture of good faith, I have with me today the plans to construct a device that will convert any organic matter into food. This device is cheap, economical, and easy to build and operate. Before I leave today, I will also deliver two dozen working models of the device.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the Earth is getting crowded. The last major challenges have been met. Yes, there are a few left but not enough to occupy the hearts and minds of mankind’s dreamers. These dreamers are the troublemakers of today because there’s no place for their energy to be directed. Let it be directed up and out toward the stars. Isn’t that what man has wanted since the days when he first stood outside a cave and looked up in wonder?

  “Time grows short, ladies and gentlemen. Some of our people figure that the original owners of the Galileo, the ones we’ve been calling the ‘Builders,’ will come looking for her. She represents a major effort in construction and cost, or so we believe. They wouldn’t let her go without at least trying to find out what happened to her and her crew. Sooner or later, they’ll come here. When they do, we must be ready to repel, if necessary, any attempts to take this technology from us. We have no way of knowing how they’ll view our usurpation of their technology. How will they react to ‘the new kids on the block?’ We don’t know. So, we must be ready. To that end, we need volunteers in this bold venture into the future.

  “A future I must remind you, that is not without risk. You’ve heard rumors of an attack, I’m sure. I can clear that up now. Our first base, called Orion, was attacked by unknown ships that used technology markedly different from that which we have acquired. This argues strongly for a second alien race in our galactic neighborhood. We lost ten people to the unprovoked attack but managed to repel it through the heroic efforts of our personnel. Later, we found another ship hiding in the asteroid belt. When approached, the vessel came out of hiding and began to fire on our craft—a fatal mistake as it turned out. No trace of the vessel was left, nor any of her crew, so we have no way to verify the race of her personnel. The result, though, is the same—no more attacks on Alliance property or personnel since then. That’s not to say there will be no further attacks. We believe that the ship was an outrider or scout, if you will, and working alone. We also believe they had no time to get a message off to... wherever. What orders they were working under, we’ll probably never know. But if that one vessel can find us, so can others... of both races. Our mission is clear—to build as many ships as possible and be prepared for any threat. To that end, I ask you again to grant us a charter that will let us recruit personnel, and at the same time, allow those personnel to return to Earth whenever they choose without fear of arrest, interrogation, or retribution.

  “Thank you for your time. We are now at your disposal to answer any questions you may have.”

  For several seconds there was bedlam until the speakers sorted themselves out. The first intelligible question to arise was, “Why no weapons or propulsion technology?”

  Marsha answered for the Alliance. “As far as propulsion is concerned, the facilities do not exist to manufacture our power sources on Earth. The matter we use comes directly from the corona of a sun, and we use an unmanned station to convert that material into matter and antimatter monopoles. Some of the scientists among you will recognize the fact that monopoles are just now being recognized as a theoretical possibility. If matter and antimatter come in contact with each other, you will have a situation much like Camp David. As for weapons technology, most of it is powered by the same basic principles that power our engines. And I have a question for this august body: Don’t you have enough weapons, nuclear and otherwise, to destroy this planet several times over? What need do you have for more?”

  An uncomfortable silence followed Marsha’s questions. “I’m going to assume from your silence that you don’t need better ways to kill yourselves. Next question.”

  “Georg Ustinov, Ukraine. Where do you propose to place your embassies?”

  “That, Mr. Ustinov, is a good question. Our hopes are to get three countries to agree to host our embassies—the United States, for one. Even though there’s considerable tension at the moment, it’s admirably suited due to their location. As is Japan, if they will agree. But our first choice has always been Switzerland, a country known throughout the world for their neutrality. Next question.”

  A man at the back of the room stood up. “Willem Boch from South Africa, Captain. It has been my experience that nothing is ever free, especially those things that are touted as free. How much will this technology cost us?”

  At a nod from Lucy, Stephen stood up to answer. “Commander Stephen Walker, Mr. Boch. I agree with you that all things come with strings attached, and the food processors do have a string. We will make available to all the nations of Earth complete plans for construction of these remarkable devices. They allow a ship in space to travel many lightyears without a lot of storage of bulk organic foodstuffs. Here on Earth, the system will prove itself in no time at all. Put organic material into one end, and food comes out the other. The unit is fully programmable, and drugs can be left off the menu so the unit won’t get misused.

  “But the same unit in a hospital, for example, can be programmed to produce the most important life-saving drugs ever imagined. It’s progra
mmability allows a unit in the hands of Hindus to produce food that isn’t ‘tainted,’ while an identical but differently programmed unit will be busy turning out cheeseburgers. These units are free. We refuse to hold hunger over the heads of Earth’s people. Remember, we are of Earth, too. The string attached to this item is that we will make occasional unannounced inspections of various sites to determine that everyone is benefiting equally. For example, we will not allow one person to control a unit and charge for the food that comes out of it. Maybe someday, when there’s no more hunger, a chef can make a dish, program it into a processor, and sell what comes out to diners. But not until every belly on the planet is full!

  “As for other items, if Earth has the technology to produce an item, we could outright sell the plans to you, and every nation gets a copy. For items that can’t be produced on Earth, we’ll lease the rights to use them and produce them for you. As Earth’s technological level rises to meet the new items introduced, the number of things we produce will diminish.

  “The prices will not be extravagant, but someone other than those of us standing here will have to hammer out the details. What dollar figure will apply, we have no way of knowing. Next question.”

  A woman stood up next. “Marta Koenig of Germany. I see that three of the four of you are female. Is this the norm among your population? And in a related question, who will be allowed to volunteer?”

  Lucy responded to the question. “The disparity has been a subject among ourselves on occasion. To answer your question, both asked and alluded to, I can only say that the ratio of male to female officers is purely coincidental. To the best of my knowledge, the crew is pretty evenly split between male and female now. If one sex is more predominant, it would probably be males. To be honest, I’ve never really considered it before. One restriction will be enforced, however. No one who is presently under sentence or indictment of any kind or who is on the run from the law will be allowed to volunteer. All others are welcome to apply. We realize that our population will be growing at a very slow rate at first, so we won’t be able to take many people at any one time. Some won’t want to stay, preferring to return home. We are not going to bleed Earth dry of all her brilliant minds, ladies and gentlemen. On the contrary, we’ll be enhancing Earth’s database. Think about it for a minute. No matter what, for the next hundred years at the very least, everyone who signs on with us will come home for vacations, to visit friends, to attend family functions like family gatherings and burials, and to retire. The sum total of all that they learn about us and our technology will come home to Earth! This process allows everyone equal access to what we have at a rate that will let the planet progress without the massive disruptions that you will surely see in the short term. Next question.”

 

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