Edward M. Lerner Read Online Free PDF

species. On that basis, and from what little we know about our visitors’ goals, I recommend that our preparations also include a threat-assessment team.”
    “Please explain.”
    “I’ll start with the so-called ‘Snake Subterfuge,’ the single known act of extraterrestrial hostility directed towards humanity.”
    Chung grimaced. “I’ll thank you not to use the vernacular term. You should know I’ve directed all mission members to refer to our guests as K’vithians.” He rooted around stacks of paper on his commandeered desktop, then thrust a memo into Art’s hand. “One in your position should also know that the biocomp incident at its core stemmed from a design flaw in the K’vithian agent. While one of their megacorps indeed attempted extortion, their own trade agent accepted the ICU’s reasoning that human/K’vithian relations must consider species-level interests. Pashwah reached this conclusion more than half a century ago, so I see no reason now to impute ill motives to our visitors.
    “You may be interested to hear that the secretary-general and I specifically discussed whether any part of this mission should be military. She agreed with my assessment that any such presence could send the wrong message to the K’vithians.
    “I believe that dispenses with the security matter, so if you’ll excuse me….”
    What a tissue of rationalizations, Art thought, starting with Chung’s takeover of the governor’s office. What wink-wink, nudge-nudge intimations that this UP presence was not a routine environmental inspection had conveyed the ambassador’s desire for suitable accommodations? Any violation of their cover story put at risk the desired privacy of the first meeting, and conceivably endangered the Snakes themselves.
    Issue two was Chung’s blithe confidence that the ETs had learned their lesson. He might even be correct, but Art doubted it. Design flaw was diplomat-speak; no one at the ICU doubted that the Snakes had cleverly inserted the trapdoors in their biocomps. The ongoing censorship of the Snake infosphere certainly suggested their thinking remained clan-oriented. Could anyone be sure Pashwah’s learning here had been adopted by the clans back home?
    Art’s mind raced. To which arguments might the diplomat be receptive? Unpredictable consequences of the physics superiority underlying the starship drive? The disingenuousness of the Snakes’ few transmissions to date, pretense that Chung had already shrugged off at the big kickoff? The common sense of contingency planning? Trying to verbalize so complex a web of concepts had him tongue-tied.
    Chung mistook, or chose to misinterpret, the conversational lull. “Good. I see we’re done.” He emerged from behind his massive borrowed desk to usher Art out.
    “What about Himalia?” Art was skirting security restrictions, but saw little choice. An astronomical reference did not quite make him culpable under the Official Secrets Act.
    “Himalia?” Chung was either uninformed or a superb actor; he looked sincerely befuddled. “The maximum-security penitentiary? You can’t possibly believe the K’vithians crossed six light-years to run a jail break.”
    Crap! As was so often the case, Security rules were like the locks on his house—they kept out the honest people. The prison was a cover story.
    The small outer moon of Jupiter did, however, host a high-security institution. Not only was Himalia base’s true purpose deeply classified; the code name of its security compartment was itself classified. Art had been there briefly as a consultant two standard years before joining the ICU, work that remained sensitive. Chung’s diplomatic mission was equally clandestine, within its own need-to-know security compartment. It would take time and several coded communications exchanges with Earth before Art could openly discuss his concern.
    “I suppose not.” As Chung shepherded him to the door, Art gave it one final try. “What if