“Yeah, it was,” Kemp replied. “By the computer.”

“Uh, so he was trying to tell us something…”

“Right under the computer’s nose. So to speak. We just have to figure out what.” Kemp tapped his finger on his mug for a few moments. “He’s apparently playing the computer. He might even be playing us—I wonder if it was coincidence that he phoned me up a couple of times to tell me things. It goes without saying, I think, that whatever he has in mind wouldn’t meet the computer’s approval.”

“Hmm, that explains that Kobayashi Maru comment, then.”

“I did wonder about that. Do you know what it is, Maddie?”

“It just so happens I do. It was a fictional training scenario that was specifically designed to be no-win. The lesson was supposed to be how to deal with a scenario where you knew you were going to die. One of the TV show’s characters beat the scenario by redefining the problem.”

“How’d he do that?”

“He cheated.” She grinned at Kemp. “He hacked the simulation and changed the parameters. I think Ivan wants to redefine the problem to give us a third alternative. But he can’t tell us what it is, or even that he’s doing it.”

“Because, computer.” Kemp leaned forward in his chair. “Which puts us right back at the root problem—figuring out his game.”

“And guessing right. Because if we get it wrong, we could not only sabotage his efforts, we could also force an immediate decision by the computer.”

Jennings placed his mug on the table with a thump. “Then we’d best start narrowing it down.”

They looked at each other. This would require more coffee. And tea.

70.Arrest

70.Arrest

The return to Lagrange Four was routine. Moore tried to enjoy what was probably his last few hours of freedom. They arrived at the Naval base, and the ships began offloading personnel. The flagship was the last to unload. As Moore exited the transfer tube, he saw a contingent of Military Police waiting.

One stepped forward. “Admiral Theodore Moore?”

With a sigh, Moore nodded.

“Please come with us.” The other MPs stepped forward, and they escorted Moore out of the bay.

After a short walk, Moore found himself in a Navy cutter. Familiar with the procedures, although never from this perspective, Moore didn’t bother trying to engage the MPs in conversation. Instead, he spent the time rehearsing his defense.

The cutter, not surprisingly, delivered him to Olympus Station, military section. From there he was whisked into a shuttle and endured the hair-raising and bumpy ride back to Earth.

The landing at the Kennedy Spaceport was uneventful. The shuttle taxied to the terminal and one of the personnel tubes snaked its way over. In a few minutes, the Clear to Exit sign lit up. Moore huffed when he attempted to rise from his seat. Too many years off-planet had had their accumulated effect.