“We’re not going to lose it,” Egan said. “We’ll still own it, and mooring rights will be part of any deal. It’s a masterstroke because it changes the nature of the game. Right now Earth has no egress into space. We locked up the planet for so long that there’s no infrastructure for space travel. They have no stations. They have no spaceports. They hardly have spaceships, for God’s sake. It will take them years and a few multiples of their yearly global output to gear up. Now we’re offering up the one way into space that’s already there. Whoever controls it will control trade, will control space travel, will control the destiny of Earth, at least until everyone else on the planet gets their act together. And you know what that means.”

“It means we make someone else the target and take the heat off of us,” Rigney said.

“For starters,” Egan said. “And in the immediate time frame also disrupts any united front they may have had going. You said it yourself, Abel. The nations of Earth can’t agree about anything except being angry with us. In a single stroke we look apologetic and reasonable, they start fighting among themselves and scrambling to make alliances and deals—”

“And we can pick and choose among the players, play them off against each other and work deals to our advantage,” Rigney finished.

“Exactly so,” Egan said. “It changes the entire dynamic of the summit.”

“Unless they all decide to put aside their petty differences and focus in on us,” Rigney said.

“Seems unlikely,” Egan said. “I know you and I left Earth fifteen years ago, but I don’t think planetary international relations on Earth have reached the ‘join hands and sing songs’ stage in that time, do you?”

“I guess the right answer here is, ‘Let’s hope not,’” Rigney said.

Egan nodded. “So now you see why Earth Station is in fact the very best place for the summit to take place,” she said. “We’re not just discussing Earth and Colonial Union issues, we’ll also be walking the showroom with the floor model.”

“Do your diplomats know they’ve been reassigned to be salespeople?” Rigney asked.

“I believe they’re finding out right about now,” Egan said. She speared some more pasta.

*   *   *

“They’re going to hate this,” Rae Sarles said, at the hastily-convened diplomatic staff meeting on the Clarke. “We were supposed to be here to have a frank discussion about other matters entirely, and we’re changing the agenda literally hours before we’re supposed to be under way. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be done.”

Wilson, standing in the back, glanced over to Abumwe and wondered just how the ambassador would step on this particular recalcitrant underling’s head.