Spinneret by Timothy Zahn Page A

vanished.
    â€œSo what happens now?” Brown asked after a minute.
    â€œWell, the crops are still alive, but unless we add more fertilizer right away they won’t last very long. We’ve got the fertilizer, so that’s not an immediate problem. But it’ll essentially wipe out our next year’s allotment, which means we’ll have to go hat in hand to Congress to ask for more.”
    There was another short silence. “It seems to me,” Gregory said at last, “that we ought to get some feedback from the troops and civilians before we make any final decision.”
    â€œI agree,” Barner nodded. “Why don’t we set up town meetings for tomorrow evening? That should give the short-lived emotional response time to pass. Get some idea as to their feelings, then meet together afterward to compare notes.”
    â€œSounds reasonable,” Meredith said. “Objections or other comments?”
    â€œOnly that we might as well refertilize the crops, in that case,” Brown suggested. “If we decide to. leave we wouldn’t drag the stuff back to Earth, anyway.”
    Meredith nodded. “I’ll have the work orders logged on tonight. I guess that’s it, gentlemen; you’d better get back and see to your commands.”
    They filed out. Picking up the missing-item list again, Meredith began going through it more carefully, noting especially those entries the computer had marked as irreplaceable. But he’d barely started when Andrews, waiting in the outer office, interrupted with an unwelcome announcement. “Colonel, Cristobal Perez is here to see you. Council business, he says.”
    Meredith grimaced. “He always does. All right, I suppose you might as well send him in.”
    â€œYes, sir. Uh—Miss Olivero and Dr. Peter Hafner are also here; they’ve been waiting about a half hour.”
    Hafner? Oh, yes—the scientist who’d helped ram through the Council setup. Probably all three were there to make the same complaints. “Send the whole batch of them in,” he sighed. “It’ll probably save time.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    He’d rather expected Perez to stomp in blazing with righteous indignation, and was disappointed only in degree. The Hispanic was mad, all right, but had toned down his expression and posture to something reasonably short of impolite. Carmen and Hafner, by contrast, seemed more thoughtful than anything else. Meredith considered greeting them first, just to annoy Perez; but the latter’s open hand slamming down on his desk effectively removed that option.
    â€œColonel Meredith,” he said with cold formality, “you are holding without reason eight Hispanics from Ceres and Crosse. I demand they be released at once.”
    Meredith returned his gaze steadily. “The Hispanics you refer to went hysterical earlier today and are undergoing standard post-trauma treatment—along with a handful of Anglos, if that makes you feel less picked on.”
    â€œSo those who attempt to alert the populace to your ineptness are drugged and locked away. Is that your idea of responsible command?”
    Meredith shook his head tiredly. “What the hell are you trying for, Perez? You can’t make a ploy like that go anywhere—everybody on Astra knows those people had to be calmed down. In half the cases, their neighbors called us.”
    â€œI am trying for nothing but justice and competent leadership,” Perez said. “This incident has demonstrated beyond a doubt the Army’s inability to defend the people and property of Astra against attack. We received no warning, no useful instruction—”
    â€œAnd I suppose you and your Council would have done better?”
    â€œIf we were given the authority we deserve—”
    â€œI doubt if anyone could have done anything,” Hafner interrupted. “I’d guess that what happened here today has