“To show them that we’re serious,” Davidov said, giving him a bland sunny smile, as though Carpenter were a child.
They were in a small, unpretentious hotel room in the town of Concepci6n, on B Spoke of Valparaiso Nuevo: Davidov, Carpenter, Enron, Jolanda, Farkas. The five of them had come up in installments from Los Angeles over a period of several days, first Davidov, then Farkas in a two-hop move to Kyocera’s research satellite Cornucopia before coming here, then Enron and Jolanda. Carpenter had been the last to arrive, traveling by himself, an innocent research aide officially listed as a Kyocera employee through some hocus-pocus Farkas had arranged. It was about two hours since he had cleared customs at the hub terminal, using a courier named Nattathaniel, also arranged for by Farkas, to shepherd him through.
Enron, sitting on the far side of the room from the others, frowned into his drink It had been a mistake, he had felt from the start, for Farkas to have brought this man Carpenter into the operation, and Carpenter’s naive question now only confirmed Enron’s opinion of him. It was hard to believe that Farkas was capable of such stupidity. Not only was Carpenter a Jonah dogged by bad luck—a loser, a bird of ill omen, dangerous to be around—but he was a fool, besides.
Only a fool would have left those marooned sailors bobbing around alive in the Pacific so that some of them could survive and tell the tale of their abandonment. And only a fool would fail to understand why it would be useful for Colonel Olmo of the Valparaiso Nuevo Guardia Civil to become aware that this was no bluff—to realize that Davidov’s people really had infiltrated the space habitat with a quantity of disassembled bombs disguised as spare parts for machine tools, had assembled them successfully, and had hidden them here and there around the satellite world with the full intention of detonating one or all of them if Generalissimo Callaghan’s excessively long life was not hastened immediately to its overdue finish by his trusted aides.
Of course, Enron thought in sudden surprise, the possibility exists that this Carpenter may not be the fool he seems to be. In which case he may well be something else that is even more dangerous to our interests. And Farkas has drawn him right to our bosom.
Farkas, standing by the window, facing away from the starry night, indifferent to its splendor, said to Davidov, “How soon do you want me to get in touch with Olmo?”
“Tomorrow morning, first thing. You call him, you tell him the scoop, you give him until noon to act.”
“Is that enough time?”
“It’ll have to be,” Davidov said. “The midday shuttle will leave for Earth at quarter past twelve. If something has gone wrong and Olmo is unable to deliver, we’ll want to be on it. Giving Olmo a short deadline will help to focus his attention on the task.”
“It’ll be focused, all right,” Farkas said. “Olmo knows what’s best for Olmo.” He paused a moment. “He knows about this plot, by the way.”
From Enron and Davidov came simultaneous expressions of surprise.
“Oh, yes,” Farkas said. “Rumors of it reached him quite some time ago, I suppose through normal intelligence channels here. Long before I was ever involved in it, he approached me to see if I could help him locate the plotters. That is his job, you know, to protect the government of Don Eduardo Callaghan. But I see no problem. Don’t you think he would jump at the chance to join in the conspiracy, once he realizes that its success is inevitable?”
Jolanda said, “What happens to Olmo after the coup? Do we continue to trust him? Does he really become the new generalissimo?”
“Of course,” said Farkas. “He has had an understanding with Kyocera for a long time now that he would be the successor. Even though this is not entirely a Kyocera project, and we are accelerating by direct interference the end of the Callaghan reign, we think that Olmo is the best choice for the succession. We are not interested in destabilizing Valparaiso Nuevo, naturally, but simply in taking advantage of the resources that are available here. Olmo is one of those resources.”
“You described him earlier as the Number Three official,” Enron said. “Who’s Number Two?”
“A retired bullfighter named Francisco Santiago, Callaghan’s best friend from the old days in Chile. Technically he holds the office of President of the Council of State. Forget about him. He’s ninety years old and senile, and has no real power whatever. Olmo will take care of him.”
“Can we rely on this Olmo to take care of the Generalissimo, though?” Carpenter asked. “Olmo sounds pretty slippery to me. What if he decides to sell us to Callaghan in return for a guarantee of the succession? He could easily be playing both sides here. He stands to inherit the place either way. And that way he doesn’t have to mess around with a coup.”
“Well?” Davidov said to Farkas. “Olmo is your man. Can we trust him?”
“We will be giving Olmo the choice of betraying Don Eduardo and becoming the Supreme Ruler of Valparaiso Nuevo himself by the middle of tomorrow afternoon, or of dying with the Generalissimo and everybody else when we blow the place up. Which option do you think he’ll go for?”
“And if he decides, after it’s all over, that he’d just as soon not continue to do business with a bunch of ruthless criminals and ruffians from Los Angeles, and with the sinister megacorp and the imperialist Jewish state that are behind the criminals and ruffians?” Carpenter asked.
Enron put his hand to his forehead in despair.
Something must be done about this, he thought.
“Don’t you comprehend,” Enron said icily, “that the purpose of bringing Kyocera and the state of Israel into the project was to protect against precisely that? This Olmo is Kyocera’s creature. He knows better than to turn against those who have placed him in power. I suspect he has no desire for trouble with the state of Israel, either.”
“No doubt,” Carpenter said.
“All right,” said Davidov. “So be it. The bombs are being put together right now, and they’ll be installed tonight. Tomorrow at 0700 hours, Farkas, you will be in touch with Olmo. By noon sharp, we are to have confirmation of the death of the Generalissimo from him, code signal IDES OF MARCH, very subtle. We will be waiting at the terminal. Our departure clearances will be ready. If the signal doesn’t come by the deadline, we put ourselves on board the twelve-fifteen shuttle out and leave. Carpenter, your job is to get down to the terminal sometime during the morning and wait for us to show up. The shuttle is not to take off without us, do you understand? That is your responsibility. You will if necessary entangle yourself in some kind of dumb, noisy passport hassle with the authorities there, any kind of distraction that you see fit to create, for the purpose of delaying the departure until we arrive, or until you receive the IDES OF MARCH signal on your flex.”
“What happens with the bombs if Olmo doesn’t come through?” Jolanda asked. “Do they go off?”
“They’ll be set to explode at half past one. That gives us a little leeway for dealing with things if Olmo runs into last-minute problems.”
“And if he does run into problems? Do we just leave, then, and the whole place is destroyed?” she asked.
“All or nothing, yes,” said Davidov easily.
“I don’t like that, Mike. Aside from the moral issue, which is a pretty significant one, because there are thousands of innocent people here: but what profit is there in that for anybody, if we just blow the place up?”
“Olmo won’t disappoint us,” Davidov said. “This is his big opportunity as well as ours.” He stood up. “Meeting adjourned,” he said. “You know where to find me if you need me.”
“Anybody interested in a drink?” Jolanda asked. “There’s a bar downstairs.”
“Let’s go,” Carpenter said.
As they left the room, Enron came up beside Farkas in the corridor.
“May I speak with you a moment?” he said.
Farkas had disliked Enron from the first; and the relationship had grown no warmer as their partnership had developed. He could forgive Enron his arrogance, his stubbornly self-serving persistence toward ends regardless of means, even his barely concealed contempt for anyone who did not happen to be Meshoram Enron. Farkas could understand such attitudes.
But Enron was
