New Title 1 (6 page)

Lambert nodded. Sending shipments via ballistic rockets, essentially robotic guided missiles, was not as efficient, and they could not carry as much, as the big freighters, and everyone at the table knew this. It would suffice for small and emergency supplies, but not well, and not for long. “I’ll try to allocate additional resources to the ballistics manufacturers. Given the state of the atmosphere, we probably can’t expect those ballistics to last for more than a few flights. That’ll be tough, too.”

“Perhaps,” Thompson said, “it would be a good idea to provide us with your list of priority items. That way, we can concentrate our efforts to bolster shipments where it will do you the most good.”

“We can do that,” Aaron nodded. “And we’d be glad to prioritize our factory production towards your most critical needs … provided, of course, that we can get the raw materials.”

“I foresee the need to balance our needs and your needs against the available cargo space on the ballistics,” Thompson stated. “That’s going to be difficult.”
Here it comes
, Calvin mused. “We might be able to help each other here, though… possibly an easing on expected product shipments from Verdant, in exchange for other concessions, to be named later.”

“Maybe we should name them now,” Julian suggested coolly.

Julian and Thompson locked eyes. Aaron, ever the stumbling diplomat, tried to help. “After all, we may need to start planning now for future changes to operations or resource allocation. We—”

“We’d like to see an easing of immigration quotas,” Thompson cut Aaron off. “Effective as soon as the flight restrictions are over.”

Julian continued to look at Thompson, and his expression lightened slightly, as if he was glad the real subject of the meeting was now out in the open. Aaron, already chastened by being interrupted, did not reply. Reya simply glanced expectantly at Calvin, and that was all the indication he needed that the ball was in his court.

“Mister Thompson, you know the data as well as we do,” Calvin started. “Your ISs and ours have all come to the identical conclusions: Verdant, Tranquil, Fertile and Qing, being limited biospaces, and designed as independently unsustainable as it is, are already over designed occupational capacity. They are drawing more resources than they are designed to handle, and producing more waste than they are designed to reprocess, due to the overpopulation that already exists.”

“Drawing those resources from us, I might add,” Thompson stated. “And we are accepting those waste products.”

“Which you shouldn’t have to,” Calvin pointed out. “We should be able to reprocess and recycle our own waste products… it’s more efficient than shipping it down, and shipping more resources back. Yes, our present overpopulation means we are using more than
our
share of
your
resources, and sending you more trash besides. For all of us, it’s generating a net loss. And if we allow more people up here, it will only make things less efficient up here, which will mean more trash and less resources for you.”

“The satellites are running in an ideal biospace situation,” Lambert pointed out. “Your use of materials and generation of waste are engineered according to that spec. But things are changing rapidly, Doctor. We can no longer afford the luxury of ideal living situations.”

“There’s nothing ‘luxurious’ or ‘ideal’ about our living conditions,” Reya pointed out quickly, but before she could elaborate, Calvin went on.

“Can we afford shutting down the satellites? Because they are simply not able to be retrofitted to be cattle cars.”

“Who’s talking about cattle cars?” Thompson snapped. “We’re talking about maybe a five percent increase in immigration levels… probably just during the crisis.”

“That would mean almost tripling our resident population within a year,” Aaron retorted quickly. If nothing else, Calvin thought, Aaron knows his numbers. “We couldn’t operate like that at all.”

“Maybe not ideally,” Thompson admitted. “But under emergency conditions, we believe you can do it.”

“Do you?” Julian cocked an eyebrow. “And how many satellites do
you
run, Mister Thompson?”

“The United States provided the lion’s share of the funds to
build
Verdant and Tranquil,” Lambert stated.

“Under U.N. guidance and supervision,” Julian countered. “It was
not
a U.S. project.”

“We know something about how these satellites are put together,” Lambert insisted lightly, and inclined his head to Harley. Harley, in turn, held out a memory chip. “This is an emergency protocol outline that would allow Verdant to operate with as much as five times the current population.”

Reya allowed a rude noise to escape her lips, and looked at Harley’s chip with clear disdain. Aaron simply said, “Preposterous.” Julian and Lambert regarded each other stonily for a moment, and Calvin finally took the opportunity to accept the chip that Harley held out. Reya actually threw a mean glance at him, as if even accepting the chip somehow indicated their acceptance of its implication, or their willingness to discuss anything on it. But Calvin knew the only way to refute the evidence, was to look at it in the first place.

“We’ve taken the liberty of forwarding this to Geneva,” Thompson said.

Reya’s eyes snapped back to Thompson, and were now noticeably cold. She was managing to live up to the embodiment of the “fiery Latin temperament,” and Calvin idly considered whether there might be some
good-cop-bad-cop
staging at work here. Julian, clearly the good cop in this scenario, shrugged. “Just because the U.N. has a copy, doesn’t mean we will be overridden. The satellites are sovereign territory. The U.N. does not have the right to tell us to accept larger immigration quotas.”

“No,” Lambert agreed. “But they will know the facts. And if the U.S. finds it can no longer supply the resources we have in the past under current agreements, they will understand both sides of this story.”

“America’s usual side of the story,” Reya cut in. “
You
want,
we
won’t give, so you invent a justification to take
anyway
—”

Julian put out a hand in Reya’s direction, palm down. Reya subsided instantly, and looked to her superior, but her expression was not apologetic. “Mister President, it won’t be in either of our interests to fight over our joint resources and needs. We’ll need to work together to survive this crisis. But I’m afraid moving more people to the satellites is not the answer. Obviously I can’t speak for the other sats, but as for Verdant, we extend every desire to provide what tools, equipment and manufactured goods you need to help you get through this. But we cannot extend to compromising our safety and sustainability. After all, it won’t do to wreck our biosystem and have to bring everyone here back down there… will it?”

Lambert regarded him evenly. “Ceo Lenz, the United States, and the world, is in a crisis situation. We need to use every means at our disposal to get us
all
through this crisis… and you should be aware that that will mean changes to business as usual. We will all have to sacrifice a lot… to
get through this
,” he finished, making a point to emphasize Julian’s words to him.

Lambert stood up, and the rest of the table stood with him. “I’ll talk to our ballistics producers and suppliers,” he said. “I’d like to suggest you consider the data on that chip. It may go a long way towards smoothing out the rough spots.”

“We’ll look at it,” Julian said flatly.

~

At the end of the meeting, there was no shaking of hands on the way out. Lambert simply rose, nodded, turned, and headed for the door. Thompson and Harley followed him, only Harley sparing a glance behind him, which mostly rested on Calvin, before he left the room. The Verdant security guards stepped out of the room with them, and at Julian’s nonverbal cue, the last one closed the door behind him.

The four of them sat back down at the table. Aaron was the first to speak: “Well, we knew it was coming, and there it is. They plan to blackmail us with immigrants for our supplies.”

“Five times the population!” Reya sneered.

Calvin shrugged at her. “They know that number’s ridiculous. They’re just hoping to get us to settle for something in the middle… like two to three times the population.”

“Not even twice,” Aaron said. “We simply can’t manage it.” Julian looked at Calvin for a response.

“I agree,” Calvin said without hesitation. “We couldn’t produce enough clean air for twice the population, much less run anything else. If we don’t starve first, or drown in our own sewage, it’ll only be because we asphyxiated first.”

“They must know that,” Reya muttered. “They have the same data we have! How can they not know that?”

“They’re desperate,” Julian stated.

“And they don’t live in such a closed system as this,” Aaron added. “They can’t comprehend the difficulties… the delicate balances involved… because they have a whole planet to absorb their messes.”

“Not anymore,” Reya muttered when Aaron paused. He continued on as if she hadn’t spoken.

“They think, if they can just ship up a few extra oxygen bottles, and more shovels to clean up the crap, we’ll be all right.” Calvin did a double-take… he hadn’t expected even such a mild expletive as that to come out of Aaron’s mouth. He generally wasn’t the type to use colorful language.

“Well, how are we going to make it clear to them?” Reya asked.

“The only way we can,” Julian replied. “We’ll make it clear that we can’t produce goods they need without the supplies we need. If pressed, we can get supplies from other countries.”

“But at much higher cost,” Aaron reminded him. “Few countries other than the U.S. are financially equipped to provide resources, in quantity, at a reasonable cost.”

“Cost is cost,” Julian said. “Everyone’s going to be scrambling. If the biggest result of this global crisis is that we spend more money to get what we need… we can count ourselves damned lucky.”

“I don’t think any of us will get off that lucky,” Calvin stated.

The room went silent for a moment. “Probably not,” Julian finally admitted. After another moment’s pause, he turned to Calvin. “Doctor, we’re going to need to put together an official response to Geneva about that report.” He pointed at the chip in Calvin’s hand. “Specific refutations of whatever points in there that would compromise our position with the U.N. Go through it, use the GLIS to pull whatever hard data you need for your counter-report. Dr. Silver should be able to help you, so I’d advise getting to her ASAP—
wherever
she is,” he added, casting an impatient look at Aaron. Back to Calvin, he said, “I want at least a preliminary by tomorrow morning.”

Calvin pursed his lips tightly.
There goes the camping trip. Goodbye, family harmony. Hello, doghouse.
Julian picked up on his obvious discomfort. “Yes?”

Calvin shook his head. “Nothing, sir, just some other plans I have to break. But I understand why this takes precedence.”

Julian nodded, and with that, the four of them rose to leave the conference room. As they walked out, Julian paused a step in order to drop a comforting hand on Calvin’s shoulder. “I’m sure your ‘other plans’ will appreciate the gravity of the situation.”

Calvin glanced at the older man, and smiled wryly. “Been a while since you were married, hasn’t it?”

Julian chuckled, and patted Calvin’s shoulder, allowing him to leave the room first and take a right turn that would take him away from the CnC. Once Calvin had moved off, Julian stopped, and his grin faded. Then he turned, stone-faced, and headed for CnC.

When Julian had returned to CnC, he saw Reya conferring with a small cluster of staffers in one corner, by their workstations. That group monitored Earth-based general news and communications channels… Verdant’s eyes and ears on the world below. When Reya saw Julian enter the room, she exchanged a few last words with the staffers, then met him at the central workstation.

“Problems?” Julian asked when she was close. He quickly amended his question: “Other than the obvious?”

“General coms are registering a lot of talk about the satellites,” Reya explained. “Much more than usual. Talk about emigration, before it’s too late. About forcing the sats to provide aid and take on refugees. About cutting us off if we don’t.”

“Wonderful,” Julian said, keeping his voice down and his concern muted. “Isn’t anybody down there on our side?”

“Maybe the U.N.,” Reya replied. “But that’s just judging by their noticeable
lack
of response to the rest of this chatter.” Reya and Julian exchanged wry looks. “Keep in mind, these are civilians, and they don’t know anything about anything. But if they get organized enough to influence their governments…”

Julian nodded in understanding. “Tell them to keep an eye on it,” he indicated the com staffers. “But re-assign one of them to monitoring the official traffic. Have them watch for any increased activity. Or… or a noticeable
cessation
of activity.”

Reya knew what that implied: Blackouts and major changes in official com traffic often indicated an effort to hide something, like covert activities. “On a lighter note,” she continued, “there’s an indication that weather patterns are allowing an occasional negotiable hole in the atmo, large enough to get ships through. If they’re timed properly.”

“Really?” Julian perked up a bit. “A sign that the caldera is lightening up?”

“Don’t think so,” Reya shook her head. “We think it’s just random weather, and a little good luck, providing an air pocket or two. They may not last.”

“Coordinate with the GAA,” Julian ordered. “Maybe we can get a little bit of traffic going. And get me a secure channel to CnC Tranquil. I’ll take it in my office.”

By the time Julian reached his desk, an indicator blinked its readiness to make his connection. He tapped the indicator, and a screen lit up under the glass surface of the desk. A kind and familiar face looked back at him, and smiled.

“Good morning, Lynn,” Julian greeted her. Evelyn Volov was the Ceo of Tranquil, Verdant’s sister-satellite. She was an old friend—Julian had recommended her for the position on Tranquil, and she had promptly assumed it upon the retirement of its former Ceo.