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Authors: Allen Steele
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to Oeljanov. The CIS Army major—tall, with a prize-fighter’s build and thin, receding dark hair—was standing at parade rest next to the hatch. ‘Dr. Jessup,’ he said formally.
‘Major Oeljanov,’ Jessup replied with equal formality, ‘I’m here as a representative of the United States government. For the time being, I have officially replaced Dr. Johnson as the American co-supervisor of Cydonia Base.’
Oeljanov gazed unwaveringly at Jessup. ‘Yes? Please continue.’
Jessup took a deep breath. He had been rehearsing this moment even before he’d left Earth, when the duty had been thrust into his hands, but he still felt himself shivering. Making ultimatums, particularly to a Russian military officer, was not something to which he was accustomed. ‘We have problems…’
He stopped, took a deep breath and started again. ‘Major Oeljanov, we cannot tolerate the presence of autotanks or combat armor at this base. They’re destabilizing to the international nature of this investigation and a threat to the well-being of its members. As a designated representative of the United States of America, I’m asking you to remove all Russian weapons from Cydonia Base.’
Oeljanov remained impassive. ‘Speaking as an official representative of the Commonwealth of Independent States…’ There was a slightly ironic tone to his voice ‘…we believe that the deployment of our armor units leads to a greater stabilization, on the other hand. And no one has been harmed by them, have they?’
Behind him, Jessup heard Miho Sasaki move restlessly, but he did not look around. Sasha Kulejan looked uncomfortable, embarrassed. Jessup kept his eyes on Oeljanov’s face. ‘I…we don’t share that view, Major. Again, I ask you, please withdraw your autotanks from Cydonia Base.’
The officer skeptically raised an eyebrow. ‘And do what with them, Dr. Jessup? Abandon them in the wasteland?’ He shook his head. ‘No. That’s unacceptable. We have gone to considerable trouble and expense to bring the AT-80s to Mars. My own CAS isn’t that…eh, far removed from the design of your Hoplite II armor.’
‘It’s armed. That’s difference enough.’
Oeljanov shrugged indifferently. ‘Be that as it may, I’m afraid that they must all remain operational at Cydonia Base.’
‘Then you refuse?’
Oeljanov’s mouth twitched. ‘Officially, yes, that is what I just said, Dr. Jessup.’
Jessup did not bother to repeat the ultimatum to Kulejan. Although Sasha was technically the Russian co-leader of the base and held equal authority with himself and Sasaki, it was tacitly understood that, in matters military, his authority was superseded by Oeljanov. Indeed, repeating the demand to Kulejan could be embarrassing for his friend, whom he had known from meetings at space science conferences on Earth. Such nuances could be reported to—and misinterpreted by—Sasha’s superiors in Minsk. The old Communists might be long out of power in the CIS, but hierarchy of power had withstood the test of time, neo-capitalist democracy or not.
He was operating under orders. Oeljanov was operating under orders. Everyone on the goddam planet was operating under someone else’s orders…and, despite the political rationalizations, they had less to do with politics than with who had the most toys on Mars.
‘Then…’ Jessup paused to pick his words carefully, trying not to tip his hand. ‘The United States and its Mars allies will have to take appropriate measures.’
Oeljanov started to say something, and then stopped. He folded his hands behind his back and stared impassively at Jessup. The challenge was clear in the expression on his, face: try it, but remember that you’re outgunned.
Okay, Jessup thought, but it’s not like I didn’t ask nice first…
‘Excuse me,’ he said, and edged past the Soviet officer to step through the hatch. Behind him, he heard Johnson speaking in rapid-fire Russian to Oeljanov, apparently trying
‘Major Oeljanov,’ Jessup replied with equal formality, ‘I’m here as a representative of the United States government. For the time being, I have officially replaced Dr. Johnson as the American co-supervisor of Cydonia Base.’
Oeljanov gazed unwaveringly at Jessup. ‘Yes? Please continue.’
Jessup took a deep breath. He had been rehearsing this moment even before he’d left Earth, when the duty had been thrust into his hands, but he still felt himself shivering. Making ultimatums, particularly to a Russian military officer, was not something to which he was accustomed. ‘We have problems…’
He stopped, took a deep breath and started again. ‘Major Oeljanov, we cannot tolerate the presence of autotanks or combat armor at this base. They’re destabilizing to the international nature of this investigation and a threat to the well-being of its members. As a designated representative of the United States of America, I’m asking you to remove all Russian weapons from Cydonia Base.’
Oeljanov remained impassive. ‘Speaking as an official representative of the Commonwealth of Independent States…’ There was a slightly ironic tone to his voice ‘…we believe that the deployment of our armor units leads to a greater stabilization, on the other hand. And no one has been harmed by them, have they?’
Behind him, Jessup heard Miho Sasaki move restlessly, but he did not look around. Sasha Kulejan looked uncomfortable, embarrassed. Jessup kept his eyes on Oeljanov’s face. ‘I…we don’t share that view, Major. Again, I ask you, please withdraw your autotanks from Cydonia Base.’
The officer skeptically raised an eyebrow. ‘And do what with them, Dr. Jessup? Abandon them in the wasteland?’ He shook his head. ‘No. That’s unacceptable. We have gone to considerable trouble and expense to bring the AT-80s to Mars. My own CAS isn’t that…eh, far removed from the design of your Hoplite II armor.’
‘It’s armed. That’s difference enough.’
Oeljanov shrugged indifferently. ‘Be that as it may, I’m afraid that they must all remain operational at Cydonia Base.’
‘Then you refuse?’
Oeljanov’s mouth twitched. ‘Officially, yes, that is what I just said, Dr. Jessup.’
Jessup did not bother to repeat the ultimatum to Kulejan. Although Sasha was technically the Russian co-leader of the base and held equal authority with himself and Sasaki, it was tacitly understood that, in matters military, his authority was superseded by Oeljanov. Indeed, repeating the demand to Kulejan could be embarrassing for his friend, whom he had known from meetings at space science conferences on Earth. Such nuances could be reported to—and misinterpreted by—Sasha’s superiors in Minsk. The old Communists might be long out of power in the CIS, but hierarchy of power had withstood the test of time, neo-capitalist democracy or not.
He was operating under orders. Oeljanov was operating under orders. Everyone on the goddam planet was operating under someone else’s orders…and, despite the political rationalizations, they had less to do with politics than with who had the most toys on Mars.
‘Then…’ Jessup paused to pick his words carefully, trying not to tip his hand. ‘The United States and its Mars allies will have to take appropriate measures.’
Oeljanov started to say something, and then stopped. He folded his hands behind his back and stared impassively at Jessup. The challenge was clear in the expression on his, face: try it, but remember that you’re outgunned.
Okay, Jessup thought, but it’s not like I didn’t ask nice first…
‘Excuse me,’ he said, and edged past the Soviet officer to step through the hatch. Behind him, he heard Johnson speaking in rapid-fire Russian to Oeljanov, apparently trying
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