She shook her head. 'We don't ignore it
'They said that the offer was non-negotiable,' another member, a more junior one, pointed out.
'Everything is negotiable,' Cassidy said confidently. 'They need our fuel more than we need their food. Without shipments from us their entire revolution is lost. She admitted that herself. The worst that can happen to us is that we go on as we always have. It is
'I tend to agree,' Billings said with a nod of his own. 'There is of course the question of whether clandestine fuel shipments are even possible. General Hans, perhaps you can answer that one for us?'
'It would be impossible to deliver anything to the Martians without WestHem knowing about it,' he said immediately. 'Fuel ships and cargo ships are huge machines, detectable from hundreds of thousands of kilometers away. Keeping such a thing strictly secret is out of the question.'
'I see,' Billings said thoughtfully. 'I was afraid of that.' He turned back to the rest of the council. 'That leaves us with the option of open deceit in this matter. We refuse to acknowledge Mars as a government, we condemn their actions, but we ship anyway and keep it out of the public's eye. I don't think that WestHem would attack us for this. They would not be happy about it, but they wouldn't risk military action for such a thing, especially since they seem to think that they'll take their planet back with their military forces no matter what we do or don't do. Relations would be strained this way but they're always strained, aren't they? And in this way we'll be able to get the best of both worlds.'
The other council members liked the idea. General Hans seemed to think it was something that would work as well, although he suggested that military ships escort any ships making pick-ups or deliveries. They all talked this and other aspects over and then took a vote. It was unanimous in favor of opening clandestine negotiations for clandestine trade.
'Of course we will not respond to Ms. Whiting ourselves,' Billings said after the measure was passed. 'We don't want her thinking that she and her planet are important enough to be brought directly to our attention. I'll have one of my staff members record the reply to her and we'll send it off within the hour.'
Capital Building, Eden, Mars
May 28, 2146
'Who in the hell is this moron?' Laura asked General Jackson as the image of a power-suited man appeared on their view screen.
'He sure ain't one of the council members,' Jackson responded. 'I have full dossiers on all of them.'
They were in Laura's office and it was late in the workday. They had sent their request for negotiations to Earth more than seven hours before. And now, when the reply had finally come in, they were not even looking at one of the people to whom they were hoping to negotiate with.
'Greetings, Ms. Whiting,' the man's image said to them, a phony, corporate smile upon his face. 'My name is William Warringer. I am a special assistant to executive council member Billings.'
'Special assistant?' Jackson snorted in disgust. 'I told you they were going to play games with us. They want us to think that our request wasn't even important enough to bother the council with.'
'You gotta love Earthling politics, don't you?' Laura asked.
'... asked by my boss and his associates on the council,' Warringer was saying, 'to send a response to the offer that you presented to us earlier today.'
'Let's hear the bullshit,' Laura said with a frustrated sigh. Didn't these EastHem suits know that time was of the essence? Couldn't they dispense with the games for once?
'It is our understanding,' Warringer told them, 'that you are requesting recognition of your government in a public forum and that you wish to engage in a trade of fuel for food products. Unfortunately it is not possible for our government to condone the actions that you have taken against your mother nation. We cannot, in good faith, recognize your government or those actions as official or just. We must in fact condemn what you have done and speak out publicly against it. Grievances should be aired in courtrooms and on the Internet, not by force of arms or by the capture of a possession. It is our duty as a civilized nation to implore you to give up your illegal action before any more blood is shed.'
'Jesus, this is pretty thick,' Jackson said.
'Yep,' Laura agreed.
'However,' Warringer continued, 'since we realize that you are unlikely to give up your ill-gotten gains at the present time and since we also realize that the welfare of the common people on your planet depend upon a steady supply of hydrogen fuel, we might be willing to engage in a limited amount of the sort of trade that you mentioned.'
Laura and Jackson both had a sharp, cynical laugh at this statement.
'Beautiful,' Laura said. 'They'll do it for our common people.'
'Of course such trade would have to be kept... shall we say... under the table,' Warringer told them next.
'Of course,' Jackson commented.
'We might be persuaded to arrange for some quiet shipments of fuel to your orbiting space dock in exchange for shiploads of food surplus. It would be imperative that such shipments be kept secret from the general public and from the WestHem government. Please respond at your convenience, using the same communication method as your original message. If these rather generous terms that we are offering you are deemed acceptable, and if the full council agrees, we can commence with some quiet negotiations of the terms of this trade.
'Awaiting your reply, William Warringer.'
The screen blanked out, leaving the two of them two stare at it for a moment.
'Christ,' Laura finally said. 'I don't know why I'm surprised by this but I am. Those EastHem morons don't know the deal of a lifetime when it's staring them in the damn face.'
'What now?' Jackson asked.
'Now,' she said, 'we send a reply back and lay our cards down on the table.' She turned to the computer screen on her desk once more. 'Computer, open mail program. Addressee, EastHem ruling council. Highest level of encryption.'
The computer repeated what she had said and told her to record when ready.
EastHem capital building, London
May 28, 2146
They had all been on the verge of leaving for the day when Jennings informed them all that a reply had come in from Mars. This was surprising to them — they hadn't expected to hear from Laura Whiting for at least another twenty-four hours — but they nevertheless gathered back in the executive briefing room to view it.
'It's only been six hours since we sent our message,' Cassidy said sourly as she took her seat near the head of the table. 'When you account for the travel time of the radio signals, she couldn't have spent more than thirty minutes or so before she answered us.'
'She's desperate,' someone suggested. 'She wants to open negotiations for our deal as quickly as possible.'
They all informally agreed that that was probably the case.
'Open message,' Billings told the computer once everyone was seated and paying attention.
The lights dimmed down once more and the screen came to life. Laura Whiting's face greeted them for the second time that day. She did not appear very happy.
'This message is in response to the insulting reply that you gave us to our offer,' she said sternly, making everyone gasp a little at her insolence. The image took a deep breath and stared into the camera. 'Look, people,' she told them next. 'We are in a very desperate situation here on Mars and we don't have time to play nice little political games and negotiate back and forth. Nor are we willing to accept clandestine shipments on your terms. I believe I made that point perfectly clear in my first message. This is the deal: We will trade one half of our monthly food surplus for three hundred million metric tons of liquid hydrogen per month. You will provide the shipping for both of these commodities and we will supply the labor needed to load and unload it. In order for this deal to be binding, we require public acknowledgment of our government and public acknowledgment that we are an independent nation. That is it. These terms are not open to negotiation or change. Take it or leave it. We require an
