Peter Williams scratched an earlobe. An interesting pink pattern was forming on the pillar behind Maria Rodriguez. He didn`t think that she noticed it, though. She was wrapped up in what Adam Veldt, the Pan-African League delegate, had to say.

Maria had a good figure. She was much too earnest, too serious and too intent for him, though. The Continental American Joint Command always sent these overly intent types, for some reason. Veldt was standing up there moaning on about yet another famine, and here was Rodriguez, sitting and listening like it was the first one this month, or something!

Adam was okay, though. He tended to be a bit serious, too, but at least he was always calm. He usually looked pretty relaxed.

Williams knew that he was relaxed. Some of the best pharmaceutical laboratories on the planet worked hard to make sure of that. There was more than physical reality contributing to the effects he was enjoying.

Next Maria would get up and complain about the latest flood---or, perhaps for the sake of variety, the latest drought. In any case, it was all about the same old water under the bridge. Or not, as the case might be.

Maria`s problem was that she just didn`t know how to handle these things. Jean Marquette, the European Union delegate, knew just how to deal with them. He was pretty indifferent to pretty much everything, but the EU didn`t send stupid people. Marquette knew when to put on a good show of speechless outrage and when it was time for the crocodile tears. He was a master.

So was Josef Rostov, the New Socialist Bloc delegate. He wasn`t too pushy, but he finished up with what he wanted a good eighty percent of the time. He was a seasoned pro. He knew how to play in the big leagues.

Adam was finished his speech now. And yes, here went Maria, leaping right into things. He hoped that she would keep things short this time. He knew that she wouldn`t, but he could dream, couldn`t he?

He looked around the chambers. Michael Harris, the Oceania Regional Authority delegate, was politely hiding his yawn behind a hand. Lo Hinxing, the Asian Peoples Committee delegate, was just sitting still, looking rather catatonic. Williams made a mental note to inquire after his current experiments with modern chemistry.

Adam was listening to Maria out of courtesy, but as far as Williams could tell, the only others paying her any attention were the two delegate-observers. Susan Parker and Mikhail Yurovich were sitting on the edges of their chairs and looked all ears. Compared with what usually went on at the Antarctica Scientific Community and Luna Research Center, respectively, this was probably big thrills for them.

God, Maria was beautiful. Boring, but beautiful. Good---she was finally finishing up. Oh no--Marquette was going to put his opinion into circulation. Peter was sure that he could predict the speech that was coming up.

He could.

Jean was slipping up. He didn't even bother putting together a new speech. This one sounded as though it had been cloned from one he'd given about seven months ago. Williams wasn`t sure, but he thought that it might even have been given on the same subject.

Sloppy.

It looked to him as though Adam Veldt had figured that out too. He caught Adam with the beginnings of a wide grin on his face.

Peter sighed and moved down into his chair.

And promptly fell asleep.

II

Lo Hinxing found the situation extraordinary. He found himself in the position of watching the Continental American Joint Command delegate give an impassioned speech in defense of a cause that she was most likely not adequately informed about, while across the Chamber, Williams, the NAA delegate, was in no condition to listen, comprehend or care.

He knew that he would have to meet Adam Veldt after the speeches were over in order to find out what was happening. With Adam's information and that of his own sources, he should develop enough understanding of the problem to enable him to come to a decision. On the whole, he doubted that this situation was anything new--or even unusual.

It was no doubt not a good sign when he could dismiss massive famines as part of the natural order of things, but he had to face reality. As the world now stood, it was the natural order of things.

He rose and left the chambers.

Walking down the corridor that connected to his office, he wondered whether it would be better to stay at the complex until after the Council session was terminated, or else to leave for his compound and the wider resources available there.

He decided that he would stay. It never did any harm to talk to the other councillors.

Even Williams had the occasional insight into these things.

III

Maria Rodriguez finished her speech and sat down. She shook her head and then hid her face in her hands. She was discouraged, disheartened and disgusted. Out of all the delegates--and all had been present--only Oceania's Michael Harris and the EU's Jean Marquette remained. To be sure, the two observer-delegates were still in the chamber, but in her view they didn't really count.

Of course, Adam Veldt was still there, but he didn't matter much, either. Her speech had been on the same topic as his; therefore, his personal code of conduct made it mandatory for him to listen to all of hers.

The people who had to hear her message were Williams, Rostov and their ilk.

If only Peter Williams were interested in something other than hallucinogenic substances.

If only Josef Rostov were interested in something other than subversion.

If only Lo Hinxing could be reached.

IV

Jean Marquette looked around the small apartment that he maintained in the Council complex.

It was entirely too small and inadequate, he decided, but it still managed to serve its purpose. It gave him an emergency base to work from that was sufficiently close to the chambers to make a round trip feasible.

The home he made in Grenoble instantly came to mind. Now that was flexible, easily large enough for an army battalion, but convertible to the most intimate space imaginable.

He wished he were there now. He couldn't be, for he had work to complete. He consoled himself with the thought that he would have to leave soon, in order to meet Josef Rostov for a private talk.

He did not think that privacy was at an optimum level at the complex.

V

Josef Rostov turned the dial set into the armrest of his chair halfway around with a quick flip of his wrist. The music that surrounded him lowered in volume. He flicked the switch directly under it and watched as the viewscreen occupying the wall in front of him lit up.

A button press gave him the information he wanted. Adam Veldt had left for his private apartments, outside Lusaka.

The use of his index finger brought Veldt`s face into view.

"Adam, I am sorry to disturb you, but I must speak to you on matters of extreme importance to both of us."

Veldt raised an eyebrow.

"Anything serious?" he asked.

"It can wait a day, but not much more, I'm afraid."

"I can meet you at the Complex tomorrow morning."

Veldt could see Rostov fidget a bit in his chair.

"If it's that important, Josef, I'm sure we could arrange something a bit sooner."

"No, it's not that, Adam, but do you think you could meet me here instead?"

Veldt raised both eyebrows this time.

"If you wish."

"I would appreciate it--as a personal favor, Adam."

VI

Susan Parker wished she were home--rather, she wished that she were back at the Antarctic Scientific Community. She didn't know what was going on here, where she was. In fact, she felt so confused that she wasn't absolutely sure exactly where she was. She had no one to guide her, no yardstick with which to judge events, no experience with the type of people that were here. She needed someone to turn to. She needed to straighten out her thinking. She needed help. She needed--sleep.

And Mikhail.

VII

Adam Veldt sat in the dark and stared at the wall in front of him. Since he could not actually see the wall, he constructed it in his mind, applying paint and then the plastic sealant. When every flaw in the smooth surface was clear, he let the details blur, shift about, and re-form into the face of Josef Rostov, delegate of the Eastern Trade Bloc. He had difficulty in devising an expression for the face. He made adjustments. The face looked too cold, too bureaucratic. He changed it. Now it looked too benign; grandfatherly. While Josef Rostov most certainly had a heart, having proved so on numerous occasions, he was not close enough to anyone to have a warmly paternal image suit him. He had never, for instance, even invited one of his fellow delegates to his private quarters.

But---

He had! He had invited Adam; a first.

The question arose: Why?

The face faded as Adam sank into the swampy morass the question presented. He sat, wallowing in it, for the next six hours without rising from his chair.

VIII

Extract, Mikhail Yurovich's diary:

...but I must choose, and by my choice may be a traitor to myself, the LRC, the country of my birth or all of humanity. No, I am being grandiose. I appear to be developing a weakness in my tendency to exaggerate matters...

IX

"I am a reasonable man," Michael Harris mused. "At least I believe myself to be. Perhaps I am too rational a being. Then again, I may just be a well-meaning fool."

X

Williams tapped a button on the console in his armrest. A line graph appeared on the wall opposite. He tapped again; a probability curve took its place. Two more taps and the curve altered, writhing like a snake along the wall. He hummed a flat tone as he examined the undulating line, all the time tapping once or twice at the buttons in the armrest.

A smile spread slowly over his face, replaced by a look of puzzlement, its place taken in turn by a broader grin. The changing shape on the wall reflected onto the lines of his face. There was a linkage. He could feel it.

Another button; the wall blanked out.

"Good-bye, Josef," he murmured.

Peter Williams blanked out.

XI

The Asian Peoples Committee delegate was slightly at a loss. This was an extremely rare occurence--Lo Hinxing was almost never at a loss. When these rare exceptions to the rule took place, he took the maximum number of precautions to ensure that no one else guessed it. He was omniscient and infallible. It suited his purposes to be so, so that was the way that he was.

He sensed that Marquette was up to something. What, he did not know. Rostov was not up to much of anything, which meant that the Eastern European Bloc was.....up to something. Williams? He was never sure about him, often thinking that perhaps he over- or under-estimated him.

When at a loss, it is time to institute a search.

XII

Maria Rodriguez paused. She was unsure of herself. What was the point, after all, of seeing Jean Marquette? The cardinal rule of the EU was never to do anything without some demonstrable gain as a result. Her people could give his nothing--they had little to give. What they had was needed at home.

She shrugged her shoulders and walked up to the monitoring station. She identified herself, requested admission and soon found herself facing Marquette.

The European looked irritated.

"What do you want?"

"I`d like to discuss this crisis with you."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"The famine, M. Marquette, the famine."

"What do you expect me to do about it?" he snapped. "We are already importing a large portion of our food supply and the North Americans and Oceania are the only food exporters right now. Both of which are cutting back on said exports, as you well know."

"No, I didn`t."

"What?"

"I didn`t know that they`ve been cutting back. They haven`t to us. At least, not yet."

Marquette now looked more bemused than irritated.

"Excuse me for a minute."

He picked up the phone beside him, pressed a button and spoke without waiting. "Marcel? J`ai quelque chose àa te dire. Viens me voir àa vingt-trois heures, s`il -te-plait."

She looked at him as he hung up the receiver.

"Um Gottes willen helfen Sir mir! Stop playing these cloak-and-dagger games."

For once, Marquette looked completely taken aback. If she hadn`t been so angry, she would have smiled. Instead, he regained his customary poise and smiled himself.

"I did not know that you spoke German, my dear! Let me see, 'For God's sake help me', you said. Very dramatic, dear girl, and method of telling me you understand French also. Very commendable. I myself can speak both Spanish and Portuguese. Yet you notice how, even now, we persist in speaking English to each other. It is really rather quaint."

"Jean, we have to do something!"

"My hands are tied, my dear."

She surged to her feet and headed for the door, only to be stopped by a last sentence from her host.

"However, I will try to do something."

XIII

"The situation is such that we must investigate quickly and then choose a course of action."

"Yes, Jean, I agree, but first we must choose our starting point," countered Marquette`s aide.

"Check out Rostov. The Eastern European Bloc is usually well informed on what the North Americans` plans are."

"Certainly."

"Adam Veldt is a master of the politics of food. If he is properly approached, he will be a useful source of information."

"Yes."

"Then, if your stomach is particularly strong, look up Williams."

"Anyone else?"

"No, after these three are interviewed, it will be time to consolidate and analyze. We can further formulate our plans at that time."

"When should I start--tonight?"

"No, it is too late. In any case, Rostov is not at the Complex or at his private quarters. Tomorrow will be soon enough. But, Marcel, tomorrow I expect you to move!"

XIV

"I am sorry. I am not available at the moment. Please leave a message. I am sorry. I am not avail--"

Susan Parker cut the connection. She had desperately wanted to speak to the North American Alliance delegate, but Peter Williams was not at home.

Neither was she.

She wasn`t able to sleep and felt in desperate need of someone to confide in. Mikhail was nowhere to be found, so her upbringing led her to the next most likely place to find someone likely to be sympathetic.

XV

So Josef was being recalled. Adam Veldt was surprised. He was also touched that Rostov had told him. Josef was not the cold fish that some of the other delegates took him for. Adam had realized that early on in their relationship and had treated the other man accordingly. Now Adam seemed to be the only person outside of the Eastern European Bloc to know of the recall.

He wondered what the new man would be like.

XVI

Extract, Mikhail Yurovich`s diary:

...but duty can be a terrible thing. We find ourselves with many charges in life, some pressed upon us from without, others self-imposed. It is rare that we have to choose among them, but on occasion we must. I am lost and I must find myself...

XVII

"""I have done my best. There is no more that anyone could have asked of me," Michael Harris justified himself. "There was nothing more I could have accomplished. Was there?"

Harris was enough of a realist to know that his term as Chair had been underwhelming in its success, to put it charitably. He seemed to lack the sheer force of personality that made for an effective and efficient Chair. And now it was all coming to an end.

XVIII

Williams tapped a button on the console in the armrest. A call pattern appeared on the wall opposite.

The Pan-African League delegate`s face replaced it.

"Adam! How are you?""

"Fine, Peter. And to what do I owe this honor?"

"Oh, it`'s no great honor. No special reason for calling, really, I just felt like chatting with someone."

"Well, I was planning on turning in soon, but I suppose for a few minutes..."

"You know, Adam, we really ought to get together sometime in person."

"We do."

"I don`t mean at the Council."

Adam Veldt said nothing. He looked impassively at Williams, waiting for the North American to say something. If he waited long enough, perhaps he would get bored and cut the connection. Williams was well-known to have the attention span of a newborn. At least he could get to the point---his reason for calling. Adam didn`t care what Williams claimed. He simply was not the type to merely pass the time of day with you.

"Say, has Josef gotten around to telling you that he`s getting the boot?"

Adam was stunned. Josef was not the type to confide in Williams. No one with any sense did that.

"Did he tell you that?"

Williams laughed. "He didn`t have to. It`s obvious."

Adam didn`t know what to say by way of reply. Williams saved him the trouble.

"Listen, Adam, I`d love to sit here and talk all night, but you`re right, it`s getting late."

XIX

"Adam."

"I`m afraid this is a poor time to try to talk to me. May I return your call tomorrow?"

"Certainly, if it is more convenient for you."

"Thank you."

"Good night, my friend."

Lo Hinxing cut the connection.

Interesting.

XX

Rodriguez felt as though the ground itself were turning into vapor beneath her very feet.

True, he had been somewhat pedantic, but of all the Council members, she felt that he was the one who came slosest to true understanding. He was also probably the only one who really cared.

And now, Adam Veldt was dead.

One of his aides had discovered him when he had failed to appear in his offices and had been unreachable at his private quarters.

Dead, apparently of natural causes.

XXI

"Yes, Michael, I`m afraid that is all the information in my possession at present. If I learn more, I`ll inform you."

"Marquette was irritated. Why was he always telling Harris what was going on? Michael Harris held the Council chair. He should be the one delivering information, not the European delegate.

"Wasn`t this rather sudden?" pressed Harris.

"Michael, heart attacks, even fatal ones, tend to be sudden. Adam no doubt felt a great deal of pressure, what with events piling up as they have been."

"But---"

"Later, Michael, later."

Marquette cut off the connection. Thank God Harris`s term was almost over. Now someone competent would have a turn as Chair.

XXII

Susan Parker was determined to make her case.

"Mikhail, we must discuss this!"

"Susan, it is impossible. We should not even be talking. We are here as delegate-observers. You are here on behalf of the Antarctic Scientific Community and I am here for the Lunar Research Center. We are not here for personal--things!"

"Mikhail---"

"No, Susan, this cannot go on. It is impossible. It may even---"

"Mikhail--"

"--may even be dangerous."

"What!"

"I can`t explain this to you now. Just--please leave."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Please."

He turned his back on her.

Susan looked at his back, so strong, yet to her so vulnerable, and leaned over to scoop up the book she spotted laying on the covers.

"Good-bye, Mikhail," she said.

And left.

XXIII

Extract, Mikhail Yurovich's diary:

...and therefore I have decided that I cannot and will not do what the Bloc has proposed to me. Subversion of the Center into a Bloc puppet cannot be tolerated. We have managed to remain out of the political storms that rage down here. This is a proud record and should not be compromised for the greater glory of an individual bloc. Of course, I realize that I ignore my heritage at my peril...

XXIV

"And so I have reached the final hour of the final day of my term as Council Chair. Somehow, I get the feeling that I am not likely to have the opportunity for a repeat engagement." Michael Harris decided.

"At least I won`t have to wonder if I`m being taken seriously. I`ll know for sure that I`m not."

XXV

Peter considered the probable course of events.

Firstly, there was a fresh factor in the form of the new Eastern European Bloc delegate. What was known about him? Well, he was a conservative, for one thing. He could be depended on to take tougher stands. He could also be counted on to operate with less subtlety and finesse than Rostov had.

Secondly, there was the successor to the late Adam Veldt, he of the Pan-African League. The new man was both younger and more radical than Veldt had been.

Thirdly, there was a new Council Chair. A nondescript, easy-going man--who, Peter assumed, got lost turning corners--was giving way to Jean Marquette. Marquette was one of the top men in the EU, a master manipulator, and--dangerous. On the whole, Peter wished that the Oceania Regional Authority delegate still had the Chair. It would be more convenient. Also safer.

Somehow, the image of a pressure cooker filled with grenades would not leave him.

XXVI

Lo Hinxing smiled at the screen.

"Ah, Jean, I merely wished to pass on to you a few words from Emerson as you take the Chair: `We are of different opinions at different hours, but we always may be said at heart to be on the side of truth`".

Marquette smiled sardonically.

"Thank you, but I prefer to be guided by the words of another wise man: `Never was anything great achieved without danger`".

Lo Hinxing stood and stared at a blank screen.

Marquette had quoted Machiavelli to him.

XXVII

"Charity creates a multitude of sins."

"Excuse me?"

"No, excuse me, my dear Maria. I have had the words of the dead quoted to me this evening. I, in turn, was merely quoting Oscar Wilde. Now you really must excuse me, as I have many things that require my immediate attention."

Maria had wanted Jean Marquette`s promise of support on the question of famine relief. He had managed to avoid giving it. He had maneuvered to avoid answering her altogether.

Deep down, however, she knew that she had heard her answer. The words were as cold and dead as the man who had first uttered them.

XXVIII

Marquette took his chair and opened the meeting.

"Item one: Border disputes: ...Central Europe...Asia, both Central and Minor...Indian Ocean...

"Item two: Earthquakes: ...Central America...American Southwest...St. Lawrence River Valley..."

"Item three: Famines: ...Bolivia...Northwest Africa..."

"Item four: Receptions: ...North American Alliance, Monday...Eastern European Bloc, Thrusday...European Union, Saturday..."

"This meeting is terminated."

XXIX

Susan felt trapped between the covers of a handwritten book.

A specific book.

Mikhail`s diary.

XXX

Extract, Mikhail Yurovich`s diary:

...and since my original journal is now missing and may have fallen into certain hands, I have no choice.

Good-bye.

XXXI

Peter Williams considered the current course of events.

Firstly, there was the factor of the Eastern European delegate. He had already launched a somewhat clumsy attempt at subverting members of William`'s staff. Jensen had this morning informed him of a blackmail effort directed at him with that end in mind. While Peter had expected something of the sort, he had also expected more finesse and expertise. Of course, it could be a simple diversion, meant to distract from an operation with a bit more discretion.

Secondly, the new Pan-African delegate, Kenneth Odinga, seemed bent on a path that would quickly lead to a Third Force bloc of delegates. Action could be necessary. He would have to monitor the situation.

Thirdly, and more worrisome, he was positive that Marquette was up to something--and whatever it was, he could probably pull it off.

XXXII

Lo Hinxing found it to be worthy of some note that the turnover of delegates and delegate-observers had reached one-third inside a brief timespan.

Rapid movement, he had found, often entailed unwanted motion and sometimes ended in unplanned results.

XXXIII

Maria had the floor.

"There are protests taking place outside this complex at this very minute. It has progressed beyond that point in Africa; there are riots there. Insurgents have seized control in small pockets of Asia. What is more, all these things are escalating. And all we seem able to do is sit here and give long speeches for each other`s benefit."

Marquette interrupted her.

"The Chair takes it that you are giving up your right to give speeches to the Council?"

"Of course not."

"Then we would suggest that the delegate quit complaining."

XXXIV

Maria Rodriguez was going to be a problem. It was quite obvious by now. Fortunately, he had the Chair and could come up with endless procedural difficulties to strew before her.

Jean Marquette smiled, pleased with himself. If he was going to be confronted constantly by a woman who acted like a scolding fishwife, he was in a position to take steps.

The best use for red tape, he had always felt, was to strangle someone.

XXXV

"Mr. Williams, I think you should have this," Susan Parker said by way of explanation as she handed Mikhail`s diary to Peter Williams.

"What is it?"

"Read it, please."

XXXVI

Lo Hinxing frowned. The food supply situation was getting out of hand. Something would have to be done. That something would most likely not be pleasant, but it would undoubtedly be necessary. In questions of supply and demand, the demand must be forceful enough to control an adequate supply.

XXXVII

Maria Rodriguez knew that the alliance was the only answer. She still didn`t like it.

XXXVIII

Jean Marquette let his frustrations out on the paper he crushed in his hands. The Latin Americans and the Africans had formed an alliance. It would make his plans all that much harder to act on successfully.

XXXIX

Peter Williams considered the situation.

Everybody wanted to be a major player. Everybody was making moves at the same time.

There were going to be collisions.

And some of them were going to be major.

XL

Lo Hinxing shook his head. He had a premonition that the worst was only beginning.

XLI

Jean Marquette had never suspected that the Asians would invade. Now Oceania was even more irrelevant as a political power than ever. Subtract Australia from the mix and Oceania was no longer viable as a power bloc, however minor. And subtract Australia the Asians had done.

XLII

Peter Williams shook his head in amazement. He could`t believe that the Asians had thought they could get away with it.

XLIII

Lo Hinxing was sedate. He was not optimistic. He was fatalistic.

XLIV

Peter Williams relaxed into his seat in the Council chambers. He closed his eyes and pictured the missiles he imagined to be flying overhead.

He began to snore softly.

The End
Copyright c)2001 Paul Karan