SEVENTEEN
“We may just have a break,” Toer said, ruffling his scales.
“That would be nice,” To’Jopeviq said, perusing the newest production estimate on the Wolf system. “Every time I think the Terrans have to have some limits I read something like this. Apollo has taken Granadica offline for a full rebuild. You would think that would drop their productivity, right? So how come it continues to increase? And while I would normally take that as disinformation, their systems are so open, there are people who do our digging for us. They have…these blasted ‘web-logs’ devoted to nothing but analyzing production for people who use their… ‘stock markets.’ This should be secure information! Not spread to the entire universe!”
“Be glad they do,” Toer said, dumping a data set to his computer. “There was a news article I just picked up. I went onto their hypernet and checked. It’s not disinformation. They are taking the Troy drive offline for upgrades. Malta’s is still not installed. That will leave only Thermopylae mobile.”
“How long will it take?” To’Jopeviq asked, looking at the information.
“At least a month this time,” Toer said. “The drive took damage in the last battle. They are putting in a new one that they believe will be more robust. That is, by the way, the most valuable target on a tactical level. If you can take out the Orion drive, you can stand off and pound them with missiles.”
“Which they can absorb all day,” To’Jopeviq said, reading the full report. “But, yes, this gives one of our plans a chance. I will forward it with the note that you pointed it out. Where is that update… Ah, the newest load of missiles has arrived in the Galkod system. Good. Still not enough, but… Hmm…”
“That’s an interesting hum,” Toer said.
“The Orion drive is not their only vulnerability,” To’Jopeviq said. “Their great strength in offense is their missile ability and volume. Also a great defensive strength.”
“Their lasers are not ineffective,” Toer pointed out.
“But the missiles are the real danger,” To’Jopeviq said. “If they lack the Orion drive they lack maneuverability. If they also lack missiles…”
“You can stand off and pound them into rubble,” Toer said. “And how do you take away their missile capability? The armories are deeply embedded.”
“And they have an increasing multiple of tubes,” To’Jopeviq said. “It will not be simple but… Yes… There may just be a way to at least take out one of these damned things. Alas, I see another meeting in the future…”
* * *
“Admiral Duvall,” Tyler said. He was perusing some print-outs in a folder. A thick one. “Thank you for coming to the meeting.”
“The question is,” the Admiral said, sitting down, “why everyone else was asked not to attend.”
“Oh,” Tyler said. “The…what is the term, the Suds are attending. The senior members.”
“That can be taken as an insult, sir,” Admiral Duval said, carefully.
“Oh, it is about to get sooo much more insulting,” Tyler said as the door opened. He didn’t look up. “Even Granadica is insulted. It’s been excluded from the meeting. Good afternoon, gentlemen. Have a seat.”
“The agenda for this meeting has been removed,” Dr. Barreiro said. “There should be a discussion of the agenda before the meeting.”
“But then we’d have to have a meeting about the agenda for that meeting,” Tyler said, still reading. “And meetings to discuss the agenda for the meeting about the agenda. Well, not us. Our staffs. A dance of beautiful butterflies, flying around to meetings to discuss the agenda for meetings about meeting agendas. And so on and so forth.”
He looked up and smiled at them, thinly.
“When I met with the Vice President for Interstellar Commerce of the Onderil banking corporation, on Galkod Station, to finalize the funding of the Wolf gas-mine, which was going to cost more than the whole of Terra’s balance of trade, it was in a small and rather good restaurant on the station. Alas, things had changed. War was coming. Onderil could not afford it. As I was walking out I ran into Niazgol Gorku, then the Chairman of the Board of a corporation so large it could buy Earth ninety-three times over. Not a coincidence. He invited me to another lunch. I had quail. I walked out with all the paperwork signed to buy Granadica and the loans for the Franklin Mine.”
“Your point?” Dr. Werden asked.
“I don’t need a staff to have meetings about agendas for meetings,” Tyler said. “That’s what AIs are for. I also don’t have time or interest.”
“There are protocols,” Dr. Barreiro said. “We worked very hard to prepare the agendas for these meetings in so short a time…”
“And we both know that the agendas were so much show,” Tyler said, mildly. “You’re not here about the faults in the One-Forty-Three because you know damned well it’s a maintenance issue.”
“That is…” Dr. Barreiro said, angrily.
“SHUT YOUR STUPID MOUTH!” Tyler shouted. “Just shut your idiotic pie-hole!”
“This has gone far enough,” Dr. Werden said, standing up.
“Oh, has it?” Tyler said, mildly. He opened up the folder and started tossing thick chunks of paper to the various other attendees. “This is not the agenda for the meeting, either. This is the reason that the agendas for all the rest of the meetings have been cancelled.”
Dr. Barreiro looked at the title of the stack of paper and blanched.
“Simply because you have a personal relationship…” Dr. Werden said.
“It’s not about Comet Parker, either, gentlemen,” Tyler said, furiously. “This is the agenda for the meeting. Your countries have impugned my company. You have repeatedly cast aspersions upon our products and you have accused us of deliberately killing your people. You have accused me of killing your sons! And when I found these and started reading them what became obvious was that the reason your sons were dead was that your governments, you gentlemen, personally, had deliberately interfered in normal and necessary processes related to ensuring the maintenance of ships and the training of their crews!”
“Our culture is not one in which…”
“I SAID SHUT YOUR PIE HOLE!” Tyler screamed. He suddenly stood up, picked up the station chair and threw it against the bulkhead. Then he picked it up and banged it on the table until it broke.
“You want something from me!” Tyler said, squaring his hands on the table and sticking his face into Dr. Barreiro’s. “That is why you are here! And now I find out that you have been deliberately sabotaging my equipment? You want to talk about honor? That is MY honor you have been raking in the mud! And you want me to do something for you?”
He grabbed another chair and sat down, leaning forward.
“Everyone wants to talk about culture,” Tyler said, coldly. “How we have to understand your culture. Nobody ever seems to wonder if I have a culture. What my culture is about. This is my culture, gentlemen. This is my child. Apollo. I was on the first design teams of the Myrmidons. I created Troy and Thermopylae and Malta. This is my all and everything. To go to the stars. To save humanity. To be free.
“Which takes ships,” Tyler said, softly. “And people who can use them and maintain them. I am Apollo, Apollo is me. I put my stamp on every bulkhead, every relay. ‘Vernon was here.’ Look upon me ye mighty and despair.
“And if there is one group of special and protected people,” Tyler said, warming up, “One group that is the class of the world, it is the Marines and sailors, the engineers and warrants and coxswains who fight the battles that will ensure our freedom and give my grandchildren the stars. And you have accused me of KILLING THEM? WHEN IT WAS YOU GENTLEMEN AND YOUR STUPID GAMES AND YOUR ‘THIS IS NOT THE PROPER PROTOCOL’ THAT ARE THE ROOT OF THE PROBLEM!”
“Mister Vernon…” Dr. Barreiro said.
“You want something,” Tyler said, calmly. “I’m pissed off, but I’m a professional. Right now all I want is to toss all your stupid ‘You have to respect my culture’ asses right out of an airlock. But I am a professional. That does not mean my professionalism is unbreakable. So you are going to respect my current mental state and my culture and just tell me, simply, in as few words as possible, with no ‘given’ this or ‘due to’ that, what you want. Just say it. Then we will discuss it. Or you can get back on the shuttles, as long as we’re sure the maintenance has been done, and go back to earth. And if I ever hear any of your names again I will personally ensure that it is the last time. I can and will make you, and your Families, capital F, dust. Do I make myself clear? Yes or no, Doctor Barreiro?”
“Yes,” the Foreign Minister said.
“What. Do. You. Want?”
The group looked around, clearly unsure how to start. Finally, General Barcena cleared his throat.
“Malta.”
Tyler just blinked for a moment.
“I don’t own it,” Tyler said. “I have the mining rights…”
“If you use your position to recommend that Station Three become an all South American station that will be respected,” Dr. Palencia said. “South American commander, all military personnel drawn from South and Central America. Including the Marines. We are considering…” He paused and glanced at General Barcena. “Chilean Mountain Commandoes for those.”
“Battle Station Del Sud, so to speak?” Tyler said.
“Yes,” Dr. Barreiro replied. “This is a…”
“Point of honor?” Tyler said. “Gentlemen, first of all, we have established, at least to my satisfaction, that you cannot even keep one squadron of shuttles running.”
“That is a…” Dr. Werden said.
“I said to my satisfaction,” Tyler said, mildly. “I did not ask for agreement nor concurrence. That the issue is based upon lack of maintenance by a group of spoiled rich kids who are just marking time until they become the officers they properly should be is established, quite well, to my satisfaction. Equally that they would make as bad of officers as they did engineers.”
Tyler nudged one of the folders closer to the Foreign Minister.
“I believe that one is your signature complaining about Doctor Velasquez’ son being treated in a ‘racist’ manner. The reply details the duties he failed to perform to his division chief’s satisfaction. I did not download the plant recordings that serve as a rather definitive proof of reality, but they exist. Those rather trail off after a bit which means, I suspect, that Doctor Velasquez’ son, at least, has learned how to maintain a shuttle. You had better hope so because we’re going home on those same shuttles.
“My understanding of the situation is satisfied. I do not require agreement. Simply that you understand that I am, now especially, unpersuasible on this argument. Do you understand my lack of persuasibililty, Doctor Werden? Only that.”
“I understand your lack of persuasibililty, Mister Vernon,” the Foreign Minister said, his jaw firming.
“Thus I would look like a fool in my own eyes making such a suggestion,” Tyler said. “But I am persuaded it would be a good idea.”
“Excuse me?” Admiral Duvall said. “What?”
“In time,” Tyler said. “I believe it is doable. But not in the present condition.”
“You don’t think we’re ‘ready’ for such an honor?” Admiral Benito asked, angrily.
“Duty, Admiral,” Tyler said. “Duty, not honor. That is one of the large things you don’t understand. You refuse to understand. Who makes up the bulk of the Alliance Navy at present, General Barcena? And by that I mean the flotillas of the Troy and the personnel of the Troy and Thermopylae?”
“North Americans,” General Barcena said.
“Notably Americans, Canadians, British, Australians, Germans, Scandinavians and a touch of French,” Tyler said. “In the Troy. In Thermopylae, deliberately, the Alliance has tried to make a more mixed group. And has run into not only…cultural issues but cultural issues.”
“Excuse me?” Dr. Barreiro said. “Could you clarify that?”
“There has been…angst expressed, very quietly but very firmly,” Admiral Duvall said. “By both other Alliance countries and non-Alliance countries.”
“Two things,” Tyler said. “Both based upon trust. One, the groups that are starting to be used for the battlestations, the countries from which they derive, their motivations, have been questioned by other countries. Such was the case, officially, about Troy. ‘Instead of Horvath owning the orbitals, it’s the dangerous Americans.’ Unofficially, we were given every green light except by the Russians and the Chinese. Because when it comes down to reality, you gentlemen know very well that you trust us to fight and die as hard as possible to protect the solar system. And you also trust us not to use that power to dominate directly. We don’t say ‘Send us stuff or we’ll drop a rock on Santiago.’ Do we, Doctor Werden?”
“No,” Werden said. “On the other hand…”
“On the other hand we do throw our weight around rather aggressively when it comes to trade,” Tyler said. “And we do tend to tinker in other people’s governments. Wish we wouldn’t. However, two points have been expressed, quietly but definitively by various countries. The first is that, especially after the MASSEX, very few countries other than your own feel that you are capable of defending the solar system.”
“That is…” Dr. Barreiro said.
“An insult?” Tyler asked. “How about a rational examination of the facts at hand, Mister Foreign Minister? Then there is the fact that Argentina, Chile and El Salvador, primarily, have at their fingertips a fleet of boats which are capable of dropping an invasion force into Brazil, say, has come up, very quietly, as a very real and serious, not for the cameras at all, point of concern.”
“We would never…” Dr. Barreiro said.
“I know that,” Tyler said. “Among other things…still not exactly omnipotent in that area and you can’t get them to fly at all. Also, I trust that you would never do that. But other countries are less trusting. Giving South America it’s own, mobile mind you, battle station? Especially select South American countries? I do, you see, pay attention to politics, Doctor Barreiro.”
“So it is out of the question,” Dr. Barreiro said.
“No,” Tyler said. “I said I thought it was a good idea.”
“Sir, with respect,” Admiral Duvall said. “I doubt you could get any traction. That is not a definitive policy statement of Alliance Navy, but from the point of view of my department, that is the official position based upon the experiences of the One-Four-Three.”
“Due to the purely mechanical aspects,” Tyler said.
“Yes, sir,” Duvall said. “That is the only department on which I can make a definite statement, sir. But it is definite. I believe you used the word unpersuasible. As would be department of tactics and department of astronautics.”
“You don’t think we can do it,” Dr. Palencia said, nastily.
“Cultural, gentlemen,” Tyler said, raising a hand. “Trust is the word. In your culture, trust, to the extent it truly exists, is based upon relationships. Would you agree to that statement in a non-binding but generally positive fashion, Doctor Barreiro? You know someone for a long time, they are generally an ally socially and therefore you can generally trust them to act in a manner in support of your position?”
“Yes,” the Foreign Minister said.
“Doctor Werden?”
“I believe that statement has some validity, Mister Vernon.”
“Then try to understand that in North American, and by that I mean what is generally meant by Norte, blanco, gringo if you will, culture, relationships are based upon trust. That may sound like a simple rephrase but it is as completely opposite as you can get. Especially when I add ‘proven trust.’ Experience of actions which prove that a person or group can be trusted. I would have you gentlemen really apply your, unquestionably fine, minds to that statement. Especially given the request you have posed to me. Relationships are based upon trust.”
Dr. Velasquez leaned over and whispered in Dr. Werden’s ear.
“So you are saying that any relationship between you and we is impossible because we have not proven we can be trusted,” Dr. Werden said.
“You have, in fact, proven you cannot be,” Tyler said, nudging another file. “I would rather trust the French. And that is saying something.”
“Then why are you, generally, in support of the premise?” Dr. Palencia asked.
“Because,” Tyler said, grinning. “I am going to request that the Alliance give you an opportunity to prove yourselves. To regain trust.”
“Sir, this is a purely internal military matter,” Admiral Duvall said. “While I respect your prominent position…”
“Admiral,” Tyler said, holding up his hand. “I don’t have the way, yet, but I have an inkling. There’s something there. But I will only present that recommendation if I have a reasonable method of action. Does that, temporarily, satisfy your department’s position on this matter?”
“Not unless there is a reasonable method of action,” Admiral Duvall said.
“You are saying that your department is going to recommend…what exactly?” General Barcena asked.
“The recommendation is not final,” Admiral Duvall said. “But based upon a hot-wash analysis of the inspection conducted post MASSEX and the maintenance issues found thereof, it is the general opinion of my department that the entire group of personnel are liable for the failure. There are personnel issues involved as well which are under review. However, it is the general tenor, of all departments involved as well as initial findings of meetings among policy makers, that the One-Four-Three as currently formed does not meet the conditions of ‘of Alliance standards’ under the Alliance Treaty and that, therefore, supplying countries are in violation of the Alliance Treaty.”
“WHAT?” Dr. Barreiro said.
“I was going to wait until one of the later meetings to present that initial hot-wash,” Admiral Duvall said. “But I was specifically charged to present the initial findings given the nature of the persons here gathered. Bottom-line, Mister Foreign Minister and Mister Foreign Minister, your personal interference and the interference of your government in normal military affairs have rendered the sole personnel and material your countries have supplied to the Alliance as unfit for operation. Ergo, you are not meeting ‘Alliance Standards.’ Ergo, absent rectification of these items your countries are not qualified for Alliance membership.”
“We have poured out the treasure of our nations…” Dr. Werden said, stunned.
“Doesn’t matter,” Tyler said. “It’s not even in the fine print. What you supply doesn’t matter. It has to be useable. Your units have to be able to fight. They can’t. They are not meeting standard.”
Tyler sighed and leaned forward.
“Gentlemen, you represent specific countries,” Tyler said. “The Alliance is charged with defending a good part of the world. In reality, the whole world and our solar system. In a very real war that has had enormous casualties.”
“What Mister Vernon is saying,” Admiral Duvall said. “And what the Secretary of State will be saying again, in informal situations, is that this isn’t about diplomacy. This is about protecting the world. And if you do not meet the standards, you do not meet the standard. We have to be able to trust you to be there when we need you. And as Mister Vernon pointed out, you’ve failed that trust. The Alliance is, yes, primarily based upon US and Anglosphere countries. We like you in a general ‘they seem like nice people’ sort of way. But if you can’t have our back in a space battle, and your people have proven they don’t, then we’re not going to just let you slide.”
“We paid for those shuttles!” Dr. Barreiro said.
“And you’ll be paid back,” Admiral Duvall said. “Less negotiable expenses for the repairs that will be necessary due to lack of maintenance. Which are going to be hefty. We’ll try to sort out which are Apollo’s and probably fudge somewhere in the middle and the American taxpayer will eat it.”
“Fudge some in our direction, too,” Tyler said. “I’ll tell my people not to geek.”
“Thank you,” the Admiral said. “But the shuttles will be turned over to another group. One which can maintain them and fight them. One we can trust.”
“And that, gentlemen, I would prefer to avoid,” Tyler said.
“It is pretty far down the road, Mister Vernon,” Admiral Duvall said. “Quite frankly, if the Secretary sees one more missive from the State Department about EM Parker he has threatened to drop a rock on Buenos Aires and blame the Rangora. That is a joke, I hope you understand, Doctor Barreiro.”
“One in very poor taste!” the Foreign Minister replied, hotly.
“I don’t know how to fix this but strangely enough I want to,” Tyler said.
“Why?” Dr. Palencia asked. “Your opinion of us, and our sons, is fairly evident.”
“Is it?” Tyler said. “One more time and with feeling. I FLEW UP HERE ON A SHUTTLE MAINTAINED BY YOUR SON!”
“One which your friend, Parker, was the division chief,” Dr. Barreiro said.
“Oh, hell, yeah,” Tyler replied, leaning back. “Seriously. I’m surprised you were willing to fly on them at all. I knew it was Parker’s Division. One of a half dozen reasons that I asked for her. Because she wasn’t going to fly on shuttles she didn’t know were safe. Trust, again. I trusted her because she’d earned it. She’d proven herself again and again. Seriously. Think about it. You all know the true condition of the One-Four-Three and you all know why it exists. You say different because admitting fault in Latin cultures is tantamount to suicide. But you had to have some trepidation about getting into a shuttle that was maintained by the One-Four-Three.”
“They assumed that since they were transporting DPs, special care would be taken,” Admiral Duvall said. “I think that the Ambassador waited until just before the shuttles landed to hint that that had not been the case. The Secretary wanted to send some from Alpha Flight.”
“Point being?” Dr. Werden asked.
“I would have developed a sudden stomach flu,” Admiral Benito said. “And recommended that you do the same, Foreign Minister.”
“Effectively, it was,” Tyler said. “I wasn’t going to ride on one unless Parker said it was good.”
“Because she is your friend,” Barreiro pointed out.
“No,” Tyler said, sighing. “Try, again, to understand my culture. She is my friend because I admire her. I admire her because when she says something, you know it’s rock hard truth. And you had to have been there when she did her comet across the main bay. Video just doesn’t cut it.”
“You don’t remove someone from an alliance,” General Barcena said. “It’s simply…not done. Everyone needs allies.”
“We’re sort of down to bedrock,” Admiral Duvall said, sighing. “This isn’t about establishing and maintaining international relations. This is about survival of Terra. And, yes, survival of the United States and Canada and Britain and Germany and Japan and Australia who are the primary Alliance partners. The State Department has input on Alliance membership but the final call is the Department of Defense. We want everyone we can in this Alliance. But if you can’t cut the mustard, you don’t play.”
She looked over at Vernon and shrugged.
“Doctor Barreiro, Doctor Werden,” Tyler said. “Have you ever played football. What we Americans call soccer?”
“Much,” Dr. Werden said.
“As well,” Dr. Barreiro said.
“You are in a football game when the game is tied and you’re in the last minutes,” Tyler said. “The enemy has the ball on your end of the field. You can bring new players on the field. Do you bring on someone who can play really well or the kid who can’t figure out which end is the goal?”
“That was just insulting!” Dr. Barreiro said.
“No, it wasn’t,” Admiral Duvall replied. “We’re about done producing the first Constitution for the Thermopylae. The decision has already been made that it’s going to a Japanese crew, not the Argentinean which was notionally considered. Most of the flotilla will be Japanese. The One-Four-Three is scheduled to be demobilized, temporarily, refurbished by Apollo and then turned over to a Thai unit. Essentially the Thermopylae will be moving to an all Asian, not South American, battlestation.”
“And we will be told, ‘thank you very much for playing but you’re not good enough, goodbye,’ ” Dr. Barreiro said, angrily.
“Yes,” Admiral Duvall said. “In prettier diplomatic language. Again, this is a decision of DOD not State. And the only thing that DOD cares about is ‘can you defend the solar system.’ The proven answer is: No. The President is in concurrence.”
“Unless we can turn them around,” Tyler said.
“I…” Admiral Duvall said then stopped. “Do you have a specific proposal?”
“Not at this time,” Tyler said. “But I hope to have one by the end of this series of conferences. Obviously, the agendas are now moot. But I would strongly suggest that we continue as we have been going. If I can come up with a recommendation which meets your approval and SecNavs, we can pretend this meeting never happened.”
“What would you recommend for the rest of the week?” Dr. Werden asked. “We do have other duties.”
“The simple answer will sound insulting,” Tyler said.
“What is one more insult?” Dr. Barreiro asked.
“Then I would recommend that you gentlemen let myself and my people give you as much of a class on the necessities of survival in space as is possible in the next few days,” Tyler said. “This problem isn’t actually cultural. Or rather, the solution has to ignore culture. Space isn’t about culture except in the negative. Space is a binary solution set. You only have to breathe vacuum once to realize that at a very real emotional level.”
“I do not intend to let any of these ministers breathe vacuum,” General Barcena said.
“Not what I meant,” Tyler replied. “Wolf is a mass of space industry. You guys want to know what it takes to really survive in space, this is the place. And the gas mine is very freaking cool. Heck, I’d strongly recommend going over to the shuttles for not just a meet and greet, isn’t this neat, but spend time with your sons and your subordinate’s sons seeing what they do. And asking them why they do it. Try to understand that if the US military had the same cultural approach, we would be unable to do this. We’d have the whole squadron of boats deadlined.”
“We have had similar situations in the past,” Duvall said. “Ships that simply were not up to snuff. Maintenance is a major issue in water Navy as well.”
“What did you do?” Tyler asked.
“Canned everyone in a position to affect the overall running of the ship,” Duvall said. “Starting with the captain and working down. Complete retrain for the crew. Usually complete replacement of the senior NCOs and chain of command. Napoleon said it best with a little paraphrase. There are no bad ships. There are only bad officers and NCOs. Which, for political and cultural reasons, is very difficult to do in South American countries.”
“What gets me is, I know that Argentineans and Chileans can do this!” Tyler said, waving his hands in the air. “We buy some very high end parts from you guys! Stuff that’s hard to make and has to be perfect! And it is! You make great stuff! You can’t make them if you don’t pay attention to detail! You can do this! Why can’t you do it in the One-Four-Three? These are your ‘best and brightest,’ right?”
“Finding such people is…extremely difficult,” Admiral Benito said.
“Do you think we send every starry-eyed kid who comes to a recruiting station into space, Admiral?” Duvall said, chuckling. “Failure rate in A school for space based operations is right at sixty percent.”
“Ditto here,” Tyler said. “About the same fail rate at Apollo’s training center. And most of the people applying are Americans so it’s not racist.”
“Which is why we’d really prefer not to have to remove people from the Alliance,” Admiral Duvall said. “This isn’t World War Two and masses of conscripts help. The US, Canada, Australia, cannot supply enough force. We need the bodies. And the money. But warm bodies won’t do it. We need, absolutely require for survival, people who can do the jobs. Sorry.”
“So you will send our sons home in disgrace,” Dr. Velasquez said, quietly.
“Disgrace is cultural,” Admiral Duvall said, shrugging. “From one of my briefings on the subject, it would appear that an inability to perform ‘minor mechanical work’ is anything but a disgrace in your culture. Quite the opposite. That being said, everyone in Parker’s division we’d be willing to retain. Which just says that it’s actually Parker. But there’s no form for that. Your son has passed the review with flying colors, Under Minister. And Under Minister. They’re boats are as close to perfect as you could wish. I understand from the same briefing that that is potentially a liability in their home culture. Which, from our POV, sort of says it all.”