If at First You Don't...
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"This isdebris, pure and simple. That's your answer!"
Jordan's eyes slowly brightened.
"Clem, maybe you're right. Regulation 710.1 says that any orbital debrisconstituting a demonstrable menace to navigation may be destroyed at thediscretion of this office." He brushed his hands together with finality."That should do it."
Suddenly Clements' enthusiasm degenerated to a faint smile.
"I've just got to wondering, chief. Do we dare go right ahead withthis?"
Amos Jordan's eyes took on a piercing glitter of command.
"This is our job, Clements. We should have done it long ago. GetStatistical and have them find out how much boogie time is consumed inplugging that silly thing into every takeoff problem. Multiply that byall the launch stations. Convert it into man-hours per year and makethat into a dollar figure. That always scares the wits out aCongressman. They'll knuckle under...."
He paused and cocked an ear toward the door. A faint hubbub was nowpercolating through from the receptionist's lobby. It grew louder.Suddenly the door opened, letting in a roaring babble, as Geraldine ...the usually poker-faced secretary ... leaped through and slammed it shutagain. Her eyes, behind their thick lenses, were round and a littlewild.
"It's General Criswell and Admiral Flack," she panted. "They insist onseeing you." She gasped for breath and added, as though she could notquite believe her own words, "And ... and ... oh, Mr. Jordan; they're_quarreling_!"
Jordan said, "Quarreling? Two staff men quarreling?" He lookeduncertainly at Clements. "I thought there was a regulation againstthat?"
Clements gave a palms up shrug.
"Well, there is," snapped Jordan. "Has something to do with interserviceunity or something ... been on the books for years. Send them in,Gerry."
Tentatively she opened the door and almost had time to gesture beforebeing bowled over by the visitors.
* * * * *
Admiral Flack had the advantage of volume, and Jordan got his messagefirst.
"Jordan," he roared in true bullhorn style, "I want to make one thingclear! '58 Beta was Navy through and through! Start to finish! She's gotsalt water on her, and she's going to be pulled out of orbit and that'sthat!"
"Navy through and through, hell!" sneered General Criswell. "A finebotch you made of it, too! How many times did you try before you slungthat thing up there? How many goofs were there afterward? The Dodgersare in last place, and they've got five pitchers who could have done itwithout warming up."
"Watch your mouth, Criswell," advised Admiral Flack, tightlipped."There's considerable tonnage of Air Force hardware under water, too.Maybe the Russians beat us, and maybe von Braun got lucky, but _ours_ is_still there_, Mac! Just remember that!"
"You people have fetishes," stormed the General. "You even keepAdmirals' hats and hang them on pegs. Who wants your hat, you pack rat?Where would we ever keep all the junk you people want to save?" Heshuddered. "Good God! Hats!"
"That's ... just ... about ... all ... I'm ... going ... to ... take,"Admiral Flack said, spelling out the entire sentence. He staredfuriously at the General. "Don't think we don't know that once '58 Betais down it'll be your precious damned '61 Epsilon that's in the oldestorbit. I'll bet you fly boys will break your silly backs trying torecover that one when its time comes."
Jordan pounded his desk. "Gentlemen, shut up!"
* * * * *
Appalled by this exhibition of low level civilian effrontery, they bothdid so without really meaning to.
"Gentlemen," Jordan announced firmly in the almost uncanny silence, "theentire problem is solved as of now. '58 Beta constitutes a demonstrablemenace to navigation. Under the authority vested in this office I willissue instructions to have it picked up by a salvage ship tomorrow. Onceit's brought down you may claim it if you like and do with it what youplease."
Admiral Flack shot a look of pure triumph at General Criswell. TheGeneral, however, was not paying attention. He was looking, almost withan expression of pity, at Amos Jordan.
"I'm afraid, Mr. Jordan," he said slowly, "that you don't fully realizethe implications of such an act at this time. It may be within yourjurisdiction to salvage and all that, but I believe that the decision_whether_ to salvage now rests with the legislature. I would hesitate toact without securing high ... _very high_ concurrence in this matter."
Flack erupted.
"Criswell, you're an idiot! A chicken hearted idiot! On top of that youhaven't any business telling Jordan ... ah, _Mr._ Jordan what he can andcan't do."
Criswell glared icily at Flack.
"A mere suggestion," he gritted and stalked out.
Admiral Flack paused and bestowed a warm smile upon Amos Jordan beforehurrying out the door after the General. As the door closed Jordan heardthe contest break out afresh in the lobby.
* * * * *
That was only the beginning. The general population, eager for a sillyseason diversion, chose sides with religious fervor. Congress went intoemergency session. Newspapers drew their lines and fought ferociously.Student riots began on the second day and sympathy strikes on the third.
On the fourth Jordan got the big news break first, for a change. Withgrowing caution he had been holding the situation unaided by the simpleexpedient of refusing to issue a salvage permit without which '58 Betacould not be touched. Clements brought the news at midnight,interrupting a tempestuous press conference.
He managed to get Jordan out of the milling lobby and into the office."We've got trouble, chief," he began. "Ascension reports Beta out oforbit."
Jordan stared incredulously.
"Perturbed that badly already? Maybe something's wrong with theircomputers."
"Not perturbed, chief. Gone. It's just not there any more. It's beenpicked up ... no doubt about it."
Jordan's face purpled.
"I want a complete ground tracking report on that pebble for the lastthree revolutions. Fast!"
"I doubt if we can get it," said Clements dubiously. "Woomera onlychecks it occasionally to train radar operators. Perigee was south ofSingapore on the last two passes, but so low I doubt if they got anyclear sightings. It would be a waste of time."
Jordan wrung his hands. "You have something better?"
Clements sat for a minute with a faraway look in his eyes.
"Do we know anyone who can make Navy Operations toe the mark?"
"Of course. Why?"
Clements tapped his finger-tips together.
"Wouldn't it be interesting to filter the mission reports of all Navyships that have been outside the atmosphere in, oh, say the lastthirty-six hours?"
Jordan's eyes lit up like twin afterburners.
"They'll have it hidden like the British crown jewels, but...." Hegrabbed the phone. "Gerry? Have General Criswell paged and ask him tocome to my office if possible." He chuckled triumphantly. "Criswell's onthe Joint Security Service Board ... what an exercise for that gumshoeoutfit!"
* * * * *
It took three hours for General Criswell's ferrets to obtain facsimilesof the reports needed. A sweating staff (borrowed from the cryptographicsection to preserve secrecy) finally broke them down to three probables:a Lunar courier which had aborted and returned to base for no clean cutreason, an alleged training exercise in three body orbits with theinstructors' seats inexplicably filled with nothing lower than the rankof Lieut. Commander and a sour smelling sortie out of Guantanamo labeled_Operation Artifact_.
* * * * *
Jordan remained sold on the latter for half an hour until fuelconsumption and flight time log figures failed to correlate with anorbital flight, and the bottom fell out of the case. As it turned out itwas the courier after all. Both the pilot and his commander refused totalk until presented with the alternative of court-martial proceedings.
_Senator Darius:_ Now, Admiral, I'm going to put the question to youthis way, just to see
if I can get a straight answer. Did you or did younot issue orders to Lunar Courier G771 specifying _in general substance_that it was to retrieve satellite '58 Beta?
_Admiral Flack:_ (hurt but proud) The Navy, sir, has a long record ofgallantry, a tradition of derring do dating back to John Paul Jones ...a tradition we are all proud of and which we continue and will alwayscontinue....
_Senator D:_ (with acid patience) Again, if I may put the question,Admiral. Did you or did you not issue the order?
_Admiral F:_ (defiantly) '58 Beta is Navy property, sir! I am glad andproud to say that I