diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-05 18:30:22 -0800 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-05 18:30:22 -0800 |
| commit | af74fb5468547cd4858ebff43f7881be0f77501f (patch) | |
| tree | 5810c319df1cbc40ed289f1d082bd787a1987b09 | |
| parent | e6d88791d6467b0c742f10b3a36f8b236806f7be (diff) | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/51805-h.zip | bin | 340383 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/51805-h/51805-h.htm | 1611 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/51805-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 103085 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/51805-h/images/illus1.jpg | bin | 52681 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/51805-h/images/illus2.jpg | bin | 84264 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/51805-h/images/illus3.jpg | bin | 71111 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/51805.txt | 1480 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/51805.zip | bin | 28011 -> 0 bytes |
11 files changed, 17 insertions, 3091 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3216e91 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51805 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51805) diff --git a/old/51805-h.zip b/old/51805-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 9e8509d..0000000 --- a/old/51805-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51805-h/51805-h.htm b/old/51805-h/51805-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 315319d..0000000 --- a/old/51805-h/51805-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1611 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Success Story, by Earl Goodale. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.caption {font-weight: bold;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - -.ph1, .ph2, .ph3, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } -.ph1 { font-size: xx-large; margin: .67em auto; } -.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } -.ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } -.ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Success Story, by Earl Goodale - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Success Story - -Author: Earl Goodale - -Release Date: April 19, 2016 [EBook #51805] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SUCCESS STORY *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="403" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<h1>SUCCESS STORY</h1> - -<p>By EARL GOODALE</p> - -<p>Illustrated by WOOD</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Galaxy Magazine April 1960.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph3"><i>Terra resounded to the triple toast of the<br /> -Haldorian hordes: For Haldor! For Glory!<br /> -And for Heaven's sake, let us out of here!</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Once my name was Ameet Ruxt, my skin was light blue, and I was a -moderately low-ranking member of the Haldorian Empire. Or should -I say I was a member of the lower income group? No, definitely -"low-ranking," because in a warrior society, even one with as high a -technological level as a statistician sits low on the totem pole. He -is handed the wrong end of the stick—call it what you will; he's -the one who doesn't acquire even one wife for years and he hasn't a -courtesy title. He's the man they draft into their Invasion Forces—the -Haldorians are always invading someone—and turn him into a Fighter -Basic in a third of a year.</p> - -<p>"Look," I'd complained to the burly two-striper in the Receiving -Center, "I'm a trained statistician with a degree and...."</p> - -<p>"Say Sir, when you address me."</p> - -<p>I started over again. "I know, Sir, that they use statisticians in the -service. So if Haldor needs me in the service it's only sensible that I -should work in statistics."</p> - -<p>The Hweetoral looked bored, but I've found out since that all -two-stripers looked bored; it's because so many of them have attained, -at that rank, their life's ambition. "Sure, sure. But we just got a -directive down on all you paper-pushers. Every one of you from now on -out is headed for Fighter Basic Course. You know, I envy you, Ruxt. -Haldor, what I wouldn't give to be out there with real men again! -Jetting down on some new planet—raying down the mongrels till they -yelled for mercy—and grabbing a new chunk of sky for the Empire. -Haldor! That's the life!" He glanced modestly down at his medalled -chest.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Sir," I said, "it sure is. But look at my examination records you -have right there. Physically I'm only a 3 and you have to have a 5 to -go to Basic Fighter. And besides," I threw in the clincher, though I -was a bit ashamed of it, "my fighting aptitude only measures a 2!"</p> - -<p>The Hweetoral sneered unsubtly and grabbed a scriber with heavy -fingers. A couple of slashes, a couple of new entries, and lo, I was -now a 5 in both departments. I was qualified in every respect.</p> - -<p>"See," he said, "that's your first lesson in the Service, Ruxt. -Figures don't mean a thing, because they can always be changed. That's -something a figure pusher like you has to learn. So—" he shoved -out that ponderous hand and crushed mine before I could protect -myself—"good luck, Ruxt. I know you'll get through that course—alive, -I mean." He chuckled heartily. "And I know men!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He was right. I got through alive. But then, 76.5 per cent of draftees -do get through the Basic Fighter Course, alive. But for me it took a -drastic rearrangement of philosophy.</p> - -<p>Me, all I'd ever wanted was a good life. An adequate income, art and -music, congenial friends, an understanding wife—just one wife was all -I'd ever hoped for. As you can see, I was an untypical Haldorian on -every point.</p> - -<p>After my first day in Basic Fighter Course I just wanted to stay alive.</p> - -<p>"There's two kinds of men we turn out here," our Haldor told us as -we lined up awkwardly for the first time (that scene so loved by -vision-makers). We new draftees called our Trontar our Haldor because -he actually had the power over our bodies that the chaplains assured us -the Heavenly Haldor had over our liberated spirits. Our Trontar looked -us over with his fatherly stare, flexing his powerful arm muscles so -that his three tattooed stripes rippled and danced. "Yeah," he went -on, "two kinds of men: Fighting men and dead men!" The Trontar grinned -that fighting Haldorian grin you see all your lives on the Prop Sheets. -"And I'll tell you something, men. When you leave here—all Fighters -Basic—I'm going to envy you. Yeah, I'll really envy you gutsy killers -when you go out in that big Out-There and grab yourselves a new chunk -of sky." He paused and studied our faces. "Now we're gonna run, and I -do mean run, two full decades. The last four men in get to do it over -again, and pull kitchen duty tonight too."</p> - -<p>I tried, as others have tried, to slip quietly out of Basic Fighter. I -tried being sick, but following sick report one found oneself doing a -full day's training—after the understanding medics had shoved some pep -pills into you. I demanded a physical examination. They weren't going -to push me around.</p> - -<p>After a couple of days in solitary, I asked in a nice way for physical -evaluation.</p> - -<p>Well, I asked. I wasn't very smart in those days.</p> - -<p>They weren't interested in my story of how my records had been -falsified or in my fighting aptitude.</p> - -<p>"Look, draftee," the psycho-man said after I finally got to him, "the -fact that you've got to see me shows you have enough of a fighting -aptitude. Your Trontar didn't encourage you to request evaluation, did -he? And he isn't going to like you very much when you report back to -your platoon, is he?"</p> - -<p>I shuddered. "Not exactly."</p> - -<p>"Call me Sir."</p> - -<p>"No, Sir. But I was desperate, Sir. I don't think I can stand...."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Draftee, you know that some unfortunate men break down in training and -that we have to take them out. Maybe you've already lost some that way. -Suppose you were brought in here, gibbering, yowling, and drooling—I -guess we'd have to cure you and send you back home as non-fighter -material, eh?"</p> - -<p>Someone up here liked me! Here was a tip on how to escape back to the -old quiet life. I nodded agreeably.</p> - -<p>"But you know, don't you," he said softly, "that first we run a -thorough test on our drooling draftee? Say it's you...."</p> - -<p>I nodded again.</p> - -<p>"We most always detect fakers. And you know there's a death penalty -for any Haldorian attempting to escape his duty." He smiled sadly, and -reminiscently.</p> - -<p>I nodded. Maybe someone up here didn't like me.</p> - -<p>"So we'd shoot you dead with one of those primitive projectile -weapons, as an object lesson for both you and the draftees we had -remaining."</p> - -<p>I nodded and tried to show by my countenance how much I approved of -people being shot dead with primitive weapons.</p> - -<p>"But suppose," he went on, "that you'd really cracked up or that you'd -faked successfully?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Sir?" Hope returned, hesitantly and on tip-toes, ready to flee.</p> - -<p>"Then we'd cure you," he said. "But the cure unfortunately involves -the destruction of your higher mental faculties. And so there'd be -nothing for it but to ship you off to one of the mining planets. That's -standard procedure, if you didn't know. But I think you'll be all right -now, don't you?"</p> - -<p>Hope fled. I assured him that I'd be just fine and reported back, on -the double, to my training platoon.</p> - -<p>"Just in time, Ruxt," my Trontar greeted me. "Back for full duty, I -take it? That's the Haldorian spirit!" He turned to the platoon which -was lined up like three rows of sweaty statues. "Men, remember what -I told you about taking cover when you're under fire—and staying -under cover? Just suppose we suddenly came under fire—flat trajectory -stuff—out here on this flat exercise ground with no cover except in -that latrine pit over there. Would any of you hesitate to dive into -that latrine pit? And once in there, safe and sound, would any of you -not stay there until I gave the word to come out?"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus1.jpg" width="600" height="278" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>A perceptible shudder passed like a wave over the platoon. We knew the -Trontar did not ask pointless questions.</p> - -<p>"Of course you wouldn't," he assured us, "and you'd even stay in there -all day under this hot sun if you had to. Ruxt! You're rested and -refreshed from visiting the hospital. You demonstrate how it's done."</p> - -<p>It was a long day, even though my Trontar kindly sent some sandwiches -over to me at high noon. I didn't eat much. But I did do a lot of -thinking.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>There was one last hope. I wrote a letter to a remote clan relative who -was supposed to have a small amount of influence.</p> - -<p>It was a moving letter. I told how my test results had been falsified, -what beasts our trainers were, how the medics refused to retest -me—very much the standard letter that new Haldorian trainees write. -As I went out to mail this plea, one evening, I met two of my fellow -trainees starting out on a night march in full field equipment.</p> - -<p>"How come?" I asked, instantly fearful that I'd missed some notice on -the bulletin board.</p> - -<p>"We wrote letters," one of them said simply.</p> - -<p>"The Trontar censors all our mail," said the other. "Didn't you know? -Oh, well, neither did we."</p> - -<p>As they marched off, I made a small bonfire out of my letter after -first, almost, just throwing it away—before I remembered that the -Hweetorals checked our waste cans. What a man has to do to hold two -measly stripes!</p> - -<p>Acceptance of the inevitable is the beginning of wisdom, says the -ancient Haldorian sage. I put in an application for transfer to the -Statistical Services to be effective upon <i>completion</i> of Basic Fighter -Course.</p> - -<p>"Statistical Services?" the Company Clerk asked. "What's that? Anyhow, -you're going to be a Fighter Basic, if you get through this training," -he said darkly. The Company Clerk was a sad victim of our Haldorian -passion for realistic training; he had lacked one day of completing -Fighter Basic when he'd let his leg dangle a bit too long after he'd -scaled a wall, and the training gentlemen had unemotionally shot it -off. As it turned out, our efficient surgeon/replacers had been unable, -for some technical reason, to grow back enough leg for full duty. So -there was nothing for it but to use the man as could be best done. -They'd made him a clerk—mainly because that was the specialty they -were shortest of at the time.</p> - -<p>"Who says you can put in for Statistical Services?" the Company Clerk -demanded.</p> - -<p>"Reg 39-47A." I was learning my way around. The night before I was on -orderly duty in the office. I had tracked down the chapter and verse -which, theoretically, allowed a man to change his destiny.</p> - -<p>"Know the Regs, do you? Starting to be a trouble-maker, huh? Yeah, -Ruxt, I'll put in your application."</p> - -<p>I turned away with some feeling of relief. This might possibly work.</p> - -<p>The Company Clerk called me back. "You know the Regs so good, Ruxt," he -said. "How come you didn't ask me for permission to leave? I'm cadre, -you know." He leaned back in his chair and grinned at me. "Just to -help you remember the correct Haldorian deportment I'm putting you on -kitchen duty for the next three nights. That way," he grinned again, -"you can divide up your five hours of sleep over three nights instead -of crowding them all into one."</p> - -<p>Poor deluded Company Clerk! I actually averaged three hours of sleep -every one of those three nights—after I found out that the mess -Trontar would accept my smoking ration.</p> - -<p>I felt that I was beginning to understand the system, a little and at -long last, particularly after I saw my co-workers in the kitchen doing -what should have been my work.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">II</p> - -<p>Then we started combat training, and then we started losing our normal -23.5 per cent.</p> - -<p>It wasn't too bad as long as they stuck to the primitive stuff. I mean, -you can see arrows and spears coming at you, and even if you have -had only the five hours of sleep you can either duck the projectiles -or catch them on your shield. And with the medics on the alert, the -wounds are painful but seldom fatal. You just end up with a week's -hospitalization and slip back to the next training group. But when they -go up to the explosively-propelled solids, when the Trontar smirks and -says: "Men, this is called a boomer, or a banger, or maybe sometimes a -firestick, depending on what planet you're fighting on," and when he -holds up a contraption of wood and metal with a hole at one end and a -handle on the other—then, Draftee, look out!</p> - -<p>It takes time to learn. It isn't till you associate a bang in the -distance with a perforated man beside you that you do learn. And when -you finally come under fire from our regular production weapons like -rays—well!</p> - -<p>You might wonder why they run us through the entire history of weapons -starting with the sling and ending with the slithers—the name -servicemen give to those Zeta Rays that diverge from line of sight to -drop in on a dug-in enemy. The usual explanation is that Haldorians -are still invading places where the natives still use such things as -bows and arrows. But I think, myself, that it's something the Mil Prop -guys figured out. The idea is, as I see it, to run you right through -the whole course of our fighting, invading Haldorian history, and in -that way to make a better fighter out of you. And you do get rid of -the death-prones before there's much time or work invested in them—or -before their inevitable early death means the failure of a mission. -Haldoria—most practical of Empires!</p> - -<p>But they didn't make a fighter of me. All they did was to reinforce -my natural survival instinct considerably, acquaint me with the -tortuous ways of the service, and give me a great urge for a peaceful -existence. But to all appearances, as I stood in the orderly room after -graduation, I was the ideal poster-picture of a Haldorian, completely -uniformed with polished power boots and rayer, a crawler to the -higher-ups and a stomper on the lower-downs, a Fighter Basic with no -compassion but with a certified aptitude for advancement to at least -the rank of Trontar.</p> - -<p>"Fighter Basic Ruxt," the Dispositions Hweetoral announced.</p> - -<p>"Here, Sir!"</p> - -<p>"Your application for transfer to Statistical Services has been -disapproved." The two-striper's expression showed what he, as a -fighting man, thought of the Statistical Services. "But we've got a -real assignment for you, Ruxt! The 27th Invasion Force is all set -to drop on a new system. You're lucky, Ruxt, that you put in that -application. We had to hold you till it bounced. Your buddies got -shipped to those rear-echelon guard outfits, but you're going to a -real fighting one. It should be a good invasion—this new system's got -atomic fission, I hear. And I'd like to tell you something, Ruxt...."</p> - -<p>"I know what, Sir," I said. "You envy me."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The 27th was a real fighting unit all right: they had their own -neckerchief, their own war cry, and a general who was on his way up. -Now they had me.</p> - -<p>And they were going to get another system for the Haldorian Empire.</p> - -<p>You see, those intelligent worms, or maybe they are slugs—I'm a bit -vague on universe geography—over on the next Galaxy but one, give -us Haldorians all sorts of difficulties. They insist on freedom, -self-determination, and all that sort of thing. That's all very well, -but they insist on them for themselves. Our high-level planners -decided that another solar system would make a better offensive set-up -for Haldoria. The planners, I understand, have all sorts of esoteric -theories about the ideal shape and size of an offensive unit. They ring -in time and something related to time which makes Galaxy distances -differ according to which direction you are travelling. As I say, -esoteric.</p> - -<p>The only thing that mattered to me was that some technicians had fed -some data into a computer and it had hiccupped and said: "You'll -need such-and-such a planet to control such-and-such a solar system, -and that will give you a better offensive set-up." Then the computer -hiccupped again and said: "You'll need to draft and train Ameet Ruxt -to help on this little job of taking over this planet called Terra, or -Earth."</p> - -<p>That's what it amounted to, anyhow. Consequently I joined the 27th -Invasion Force.</p> - -<p>"So you've got an application in for transfer to the Statistical -Services, huh?" Trontar Hytd, my new platoon three-striper, asked when -I reported in for duty with the 27th.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Sir." I'd learned, along the line, that one should never give up -when applying for a transfer—just keep one in the mill.</p> - -<p>"Huh, Borr, this new guy likes to work with figures," Trontar Hytd -growled at Hweetoral Borr, my new squad leader. "Thinks he doesn't -want to be a Fighter." Trontar Hytd looked at me questioningly.</p> - -<p>I didn't say anything. I'd learned a lot in Basic Fighter Course.</p> - -<p>"Figures?" asked Hweetoral Borr. I could see a train of thought had -been started in the Hweetoral's mind.</p> - -<p>"Yeah, figures," snapped Trontar Hytd. "He likes to count things, Borr. -Get it?"</p> - -<p>"Guess we need all our ray charges counted, for one thing," suggested -Hweetoral Borr. "I get all mixed up with them figures."</p> - -<p>"After training hours, of course," Trontar Hytd said.</p> - -<p>"Of course, Trontar. And someone's gotta jawbone some kind of report on -ammo expenditures every training day. Maybe after the rest of us have -sacked in, for instance?"</p> - -<p>"Of course. Okay, Hweetoral, I guess you got the idea."</p> - -<p>Invasion was almost a relief after that brief bit of refresher training -the 27th was going through.</p> - -<p>Our General-on-the-way-up had outlined his plan of attack: "Drop'm, -hit'm, lift'm and drop'm again." So I dropped, hit the defenders, was -lifted to a new center of resistance, and dropped again. I understand -it was a standard type of invasion, there's only one way to do simple -things.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Once in a while, these days, I remember those sadistic and -battle-hardened comrades of mine. Hard, gutsy Trontar Hytd stayed -on his feet to direct his platoon underground after our Kansas -force collapsed, and one of those little fission weapons separated -his body parts too widely for even our unsentimentally competent -surgeon/replacer to reassemble him. Well, they had a go at the job, but -they had to ray down what they created—some primitive regression had -set in and the creature was hungry.</p> - -<p>And rough and tough Hweetoral Borr incautiously scratched his hairy -ear just when one of those rude projectile weapons was firing at -him. The slug slipped through that opening the Hweetoral had made in -his body armor. With the brain gone—or such brain as Hweetoral Borr -possessed—our kindly old surgeon/replacer was foxed again.</p> - -<p>Then there were the new germs....</p> - -<p>But these things are as nothing to the creative military mind. A swarm -of regulations, manuals and directives issue forth from headquarters, -and force fields cease to collapse, and fighters keep their body armor -on and adjusted. When something like the influenza germ wipes out half -a platoon, the wheels turn, a new vaccine is devised, and no more -Haldorians die from that particular germ. All the individual has to do -is to live from one injection to the next (any civilized enemy always -dreams up new diseases), move from one enemy strong point to the next, -and dream of the day when he can return to his old life. For me it was -a dream of returning to that quiet tiny room with its walls lined with -the best of Haldorian art—just cheap reproductions, of course—and -never again to handle a rayer or to wear armor. Real life, meanwhile, -went on.</p> - -<p>"Fighter First-Class Ruxt! Take these men and blast that strong -point!" That would be the order somewhere in Missouri, or maybe in -Mississippi—I never was much good on micro-geography. "Hweetoral Ruxt! -Take your squad and clean out that city. New Orleans they call it. Get -their formal surrender and make damn sure there are no guerrillas left -when the colonel comes through to inspect."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus2.jpg" width="350" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>By the time I was Trontar Ruxt the invasion was practically over. As I -say, it was the standard thing with one or two countries holding out -after all hope was gone—England never did formally surrender, not that -it mattered—and our successful General was made a Sub-Marshal of the -Haldorian Empire.</p> - -<p>A real promotion and a great honor. Much good it did him when he -ventured his battle fleet too far into the Slug lines a year later.</p> - -<p>With the fighting over—the real fighting, I mean—the ever-efficient -Haldorians started moving their troops off Earth to get ready for a new -and bigger invasion that the computers had decreed. Only a few troops -were to be left behind for occupation and guard stuff.</p> - -<p>I had a talk with a fat Assignments Trontar in his plush office.</p> - -<p>"You know, Trontar," I said, "I was hoping to see more of this world -here, and the rumor is that all of us excess combat types are being -shipped to a training world to be shaped into new invasion forces."</p> - -<p>"Tough," he said. He should know. He'd requisitioned a mansion complete -with servants and everything. He even had a native trained to drive one -of their luxuriously inefficient ground vehicles. What a deal! That -Trontar had no worries, <i>his</i> anti-grav ray was working.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"I heard that a man doesn't even need any money if he's stationed down -at our headquarters," I said, and I hauled out a handful of Haldorian -notes from my pocket. "Guess I wouldn't need this stuff if I was -transferred down to our headquarters."</p> - -<p>"Who needs money?" he asked. "Guys all the time trying to bribe me, -Trontar. You'd be surprised. Sure glad you aren't, though, because I -do hate to turn anyone in."</p> - -<p>I put the money back in my pocket. "Speaking of turning in people," -I said casually, "you ever have any trouble with the undercover boys -about all this loot you've picked up?" This, I thought, would shake -him—and at the same time I marvelled at how I'd changed from a simple, -naive statistician to a tough and conniving combat NCO.</p> - -<p>He yawned all over his fat face and swung his swivel chair so that -he could better admire the picture beside his desk. I recognized the -picture as a moderately good reproduction of a Huxtner, a minor painter -of our XXVth. "No," the Assignments Trontar said, "it turns out that -one of my sept brothers runs the local watch birds. He often drops in -here to visit with me. But anything I can do for you, Trontar?"</p> - -<p>"No," I said, and I fired at the only possible loophole left, "I'll -just leave quietly so you can admire your Huxtner."</p> - -<p>He swung back to me with a start. "You recognize a Huxtner? You're the -first man I've ever met in the service who ever heard of Huxtner, let -alone recognizing one of his masterpieces! Hey, did you know I brought -this all the way from home in my hammock roll? And just look at the -coloring of that figure there!"</p> - -<p>The loophole had been blasted wide open. "You're lucky," I said, -and I went on to lie about how I'd lost my own Huxtner prints in the -invasion. "No one," I continued, "ever got quite that flesh tint of -Huxtner's, did they?"</p> - -<p>Huxtner, by the way, is notorious for using a yellow undercoat for his -blue flesh colors, unlike every realistic painter before or after who -have all used green undercoats—what else? Imagine a chrome-yellow -underlaying a blue skin color. All Huxtner's figures look like two-week -corpses—but Huxtner enthusiasts are unique.</p> - -<p>The Assignments Trontar and I had a nice long chat about Huxtner, at -the conclusion of which he insisted on scratching my name from the -list of combat-bound men and putting me on a much smaller list of men -scheduled for our guard outfit, stationed at the old Terran capital of -Washington.</p> - -<p>I had an un-Haldorian feeling of having arranged my own life after that -incident. That feeling persisted even after I took over one of the -guard platoons and discovered that life in a guard outfit is rather -similar to Basic Fighter Course.</p> - -<p>"Trontar Ruxt! Two men of your platoon have tarnished armor. Get them -working on it, and maybe you'd better stay and see that they do it -properly."</p> - -<p>"Yes, Sir."</p> - -<p>One lives and learns. I turned the job of supervising the armor -cleaning to the Hweetorals of the squads and then I went home to my -native woman. Yes, this guard's outfit life was like Fighter Basic -Course.</p> - -<p>But only for the lower ranks.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">III</p> - -<p>Life wasn't too unendurable in those days. The duties were incredibly -dull, of course, but the danger of sudden death had receded, since only -a few fanatics still tried to pick off us occupation troops. And this -new world of Haldoria's was rich in the things a sensitive and artistic -man appreciates: painting, sculpture, music. Then there was this new -and pleasing thing of living with a woman....</p> - -<p>But it wouldn't last long.</p> - -<p>Soon there'd be another planet to invade and maybe a space battle with -the great enemy. More years of cramped living and lurking danger, for -in the Empire one was drafted for the duration, and this duration was -now some four hundred years old. The most Trontar Ruxt could expect, -the very most, was to somehow keep alive for another fifty years and -then to retire on a small pension to one of the lesser worlds of the -Empire.</p> - -<p>"Trontar Ruxt! Your records show that you're a statistician." My -commanding officer stared at me suspiciously, for a fighting man, even -one on guard duty, distrusts office personnel. And as everyone knows, -"Once a fighting man, always a fighting man." I think my C.O.'s last -action had been thirty years ago.</p> - -<p>"I was a statistician before I got in the service, Sir."</p> - -<p>"Well, they're screaming over at headquarters for qualified office -personnel, and we have to send them any trained men we have—of any -rank."</p> - -<p>"It's for Haldor, Sir," I said. By now I knew the correct answer was -most often the noncommittal one.</p> - -<p>I reported to the Headquarters, 27th Invasion Force. The rumor was -that Phase II, Reduction of Inhabitants to Slavery with Shipment to -Haldorian Colonies, was about to start. And also, our Planners were -supposed to be well into Phase III, Terraforming, already. Terraforming -was necessary, of course, to bring the average temperature of earth -down to something like the sub-arctic so that we Haldorians could live -here in comfort. We lost quite a few fighters during invasion when -their cooling systems broke down. Rumor, as always, was dead right; and -the Headquarters was a mad rat-race.</p> - -<p>The Senior Trontar of the office was delighted to get another body.</p> - -<p>"Took your time getting here, Ruxt! You guard louts don't know the -meaning of time, do you?"</p> - -<p>I remained at attention.</p> - -<p>"So you're a statistician, are you? Well, we don't need any -statisticians now. We just got in a whole squad of them. Can you use a -writer, maybe?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Yes, Sir," I did not remind the Senior Trontar that using a writer was -a clerk's job, not a Trontar's, not a combat three-striper's, because -the chances were that he knew it, for one thing. And he could easily -make me a clerk, for another thing.</p> - -<p>"Okay. Now that we understand each other," the Senior Trontar grinned, -"or that you understand me, which is all that matters, here's your -job." He handed me a stack of scribbled notes, some rolls of speech -tape and a couple of cans of visual stuff. "Make up a report in -standard format like this example. Consolidate all this stuff into it. -This report has to be ready in two days, and it has to be perfect. No -misspellings, no erasures, no nothing. Got that?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Sir."</p> - -<p>"Yes, Sir," he mimicked. "Haldor only knows why they couldn't send me a -few clerks instead of a squad of statisticians and one guard Trontar. -Do you know what this stuff is that you're going to work up? It's the -final report on our invasion here!"</p> - -<p>I looked impressed. Strange how you learn, after a while, even the -facial expression you are supposed to wear.</p> - -<p>"Do you know why this report has to be perfect in format and -appearance?" I wouldn't say the Senior Trontar's manner was bullying, -quite. Perhaps one could call it hectoring. "Because the Accountant -is out in this sector somewhere and we have to be ready for him if he -drops in."</p> - -<p>This time I didn't have to try to look impressed. The Accountant is the -man who passes judgment on the conduct of all military matters—though -of course he's not one man, but maybe a dozen of them. Armed with -the invaluable weapon of hindsight, he drops in after an invasion -is completed. He determines whether the affair has gone according -to regulations, or whether there has been carelessness, slackness -or wasting of Haldorian resources of men or material. Additionally -he monitors civil administration of colonies and federated worlds. -There are stories of Generals becoming Fighter Basics and Chief -Administrators becoming sub-clerks after an Accountant's visit.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I got the report done, but it took the full two days—mainly because -fighting men make such incomplete and erroneous reports while action -is going on. I got to understand the exasperated concern of office -personnel who have to consolidate varied fragments into a coherent -whole. And adding to the natural difficulties of the task was the -continual presence of the Senior Trontar, and his barbed comments and -lurid promises as to what would follow my failure at the work.</p> - -<p>But the report was done and sent in to the Adjutant.</p> - -<p>It came back covered with scribbled changes, additions, and -deletions—and it came back carried by a much disturbed Senior Trontar.</p> - -<p>"Who in Haldor do they think I am?" he moaned. "I just handed on to you -the figures that they gave me. Me! And threatening me with duty on a -space freighter ... and one into the Slug area at that!"</p> - -<p>I thought, as I looked at my ruined script, that guard duty wasn't so -bad, and that even combat wasn't rough <i>all</i> the time.</p> - -<p>"See, Trontar," the four-striper said, calling me by my proper rank for -the first time, "you did a good job, the Adjutant himself said so. But -these figures...." he shuddered. "If the Accountant should see these -we'd all be for it. Space-freighter duty would be getting off light." -The Senior Trontar seemed almost human to me right then.</p> - -<p>"I just put down what you gave me," I said.</p> - -<p>"Yeah, sure, Ruxt. But I didn't realize, nobody realized, how bad the -figures were till they were all together and written up. Look, this -report shows that we shouldn't Terraform this planet—that we can't -make a nudnick on the slavery proposition—and that maybe we shouldn't -have even invaded this inferno at all."</p> - -<p>"So what do you want me to do?"</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you what you're going to do...." The Senior Trontar had -regained his normal nasty disposition. "You're going to re-do this -report. You're going to re-do it starting now, you're going to work on -it all night, and you're going to have it on my desk and in perfect -shape when I come in in the morning, or, by Haldor, the next thing you -write will be your transfer to the space freighter run nearest the Slug -Galaxy." The Senior Trontar ran momentarily out of breath. "And," he -came back strongly, "you won't be going as no Trontar, neither!"</p> - -<p>"It'll be on your desk in the morning, Sir," I said.</p> - -<p>Deck hands on the space freighter run were, I'd heard, particularly -expendable.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>By the middle of the third watch I had completed a perfect copy of the -report complete with attachments, appendices, and supplements. And also -by this time I knew from the differences between the original report -and this jawboned version that someone had goofed badly in undertaking -this invasion, and then had goofed worse in not calling the thing off. -Now there was to be considerable covering-up of tracks. The thought -suddenly came to me that a guard's trontar named Ruxt knew rather a -lot of what had gone on. Following that mildly worrying thought came a -notion that perhaps a guard's trontar named Ruxt might be considered -by some as just another set of tracks to be covered up. That far-off -retirement on a small but steady income became even more unlikely, and -the possibilities began to appear of a quick end in the Slug-shattered -hulk of a space freighter.</p> - -<p>Had the Senior Trontar changed in his attitude towards me, towards -the end of the day, perhaps acted as though I were a condemned man? -Possibly. And had some of the officers been whispering about me late in -the afternoon? Could have been.</p> - -<p>Shaken, I wandered down to the mess hall and joined a group of -third-watch guards, who were goofing off while their Trontar was -checking more distant guard posts.</p> - -<p>"It's easy," one of them was telling the others. "All you got to do is -to slip some surgeon/replacer a few big notes and he gives you this -operation which makes you look like a native. And then you just settle -down on Astarte for the rest of your life with the women just begging -you to let them support you."</p> - -<p>"You mean you'd rather live on some lousy federated world than be a -Haldorian in the Invasion Forces?" There was a strong sardonic note in -the questioner's voice.</p> - -<p>"Man, you ever been on Astarte?" the first man asked incredulously.</p> - -<p>"Yeah, but how are you going to be sure that the surgeon/replacer -doesn't turn you in?" objected one of the others. "He could take your -money, do the operation, and have you picked up. That way he'd have the -money and get a medal too."</p> - -<p>"I'd get around that," the talky guy said, "I'd just...."</p> - -<p>At this point he was jabbed in the arm by one of his buddies who had -noticed my eavesdropping. The man shut up. All four of them drifted off -to their posts.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I went reluctantly back to the office. From then till dawn I dreamed -up and rehearsed all manner of wild schemes to take me out of this -dangerous situation. Or was it all perhaps just imagination? A -Haldorian Trontar should never be guilty of an excess of that quality. -But I made sure when the Senior Trontar sneaked in a bit before the -regular opening time, that I was just, apparently, completing the last -page of the report. The impression I hoped to convey was that I had -spent the entire night in working and worrying.</p> - -<p>"It's okay," the Senior Trontar growled after he had studied the -completed report. "Guess you can take a couple of days off, Ruxt. I -believe in taking care of my men. Say," he asked casually, "I suppose -you didn't understand those figures you were working up, did you?"</p> - -<p>"No," I said, "I didn't pay any attention to them, they were just -something to copy, that's all." I felt confident that I could out-fence -the Senior Trontar any time at this little game, but what had he and -the Adjutant been whispering about before they had come in?</p> - -<p>"But you used to be a statistician, didn't you?" He looked at the far -corner of the room and smiled slightly. "But you take a couple days -off, Ruxt. Maybe we'll find something good for you when you come back." -He smiled again. "Don't forget to check out with the Locator before you -go, though. We don't want to lose you."</p> - -<p>I stumbled home, not even noticing the hate-filled glances my armor and -blue skin drew from the natives along the streets. The glances were -standard, but this feeling of being doomed was new.</p> - -<p>They were going to get me. I felt sure of that, even though my Sike -Test Scores had always been as low as any normal's. But how could a -Haldorian disappear on this planet? Aside from skin color, there was -the need to keep body temperatures at a livable level. The body armor -unit was good only for about a week. Find a surgeon/replacer and bribe -him to change me to an Earthman? I saw now how ridiculous such an idea -was. But was there nothing but to wait passively while the Senior -Trontar and the Adjutant, and whoever else did the dirty work, all got -together and railroaded me off?</p> - -<p>Haldorians, though, never surrender—or so the Mil Prop lad would have -us believe. Right from the time you are four years old and you start -seeing the legendary founders of Haldoria—Bordt and Smordt—fighting -off the fierce six-legged carnivores, you are told never to give up. -"Where there's Haldor, there's Hope!" "There's always another stone for -the wolves, if you but look." I must confess I'd snickered (way deep -inside, naturally) at these exhortations ever since I'd reached the age -of thinking, but now all these childhood admonitions came rushing back -to give me strength, quite as they were intended to do. I found that I -could but go down like any Haldorian, fighting to the last.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph4">IV</p> - -<p>So I put on my dress uniform the next day, and made sure that nothing -could be deader than the dulled bits, or brighter than the polished -ones. A bit of this effort was wasted since I arrived at Headquarters -looking something less than sharp. The cooling unit in my armor was -acting up a bit; and, also, three Terran city guerillas had tried to -ambush me on the way. You take quite a jolt from a land mine, even with -armor set on maximum. Some of those people never knew when they were -licked. No wonder their Spanglt Resistance Quotient was close to the -highest on record.</p> - -<p>I got through the three lines of guards and protective force fields -all right, checking my rayer here, my armor there—the usual dull -procedure. By the time I reached the Admissions Officer I was down to -uniform and medals.</p> - -<p>"You want to see the Accountant?" the Admissions Officer asked -incredulously. "You mean one of his staff! Well, where's your request -slip, Trontar?"</p> - -<p>"I've come on my own, Sir," I said, "not from my office, so I haven't -a request slip."</p> - -<p>"Come on your own? What's your unit? Give me your ID card!"</p> - -<p>Let's see, I thought, I've abstracted classified material from the -files and carried it outside the office, I've broken the chain of -command and communication, and, worst of all, I'd tried to see a senior -officer without a request slip. Yeah, maybe I'd be lucky to end up as a -<i>live</i> deckhand on a space freighter.</p> - -<p>A bored young Zankor with the rarely-seen balance insignia of the -Accountant's Office rose from behind the Admissions Officer.</p> - -<p>"I'll take responsibility for this man," he said casually to the A.O. -"Follow me, Trontar. I was wondering when you'd turn up."</p> - -<p>"Me?"</p> - -<p>"Well, someone like you. Though usually it's scared sub-clerks that we -drag up. And that reminds me." He turned to another young and equally -bored Zankor standing nearby. "Take over, Smit, will you? They're -bringing in that sub-clerk who's been writing those anonymous letters. -I've reserved the Inquisition Room for a couple of hours for him."</p> - -<p>I followed the Zankor as he strode away, wondering as I did if they had -more than one Inquisition Room.</p> - -<p>He led me into a small room just off the corridor and motioned me to a -chair. "Before you see the Accountant, Trontar," he said, "I'll have -to screen what you have. It may be that we won't have to bother the -Accountant at all."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The smooth way the Zankor talked and his friendly manner almost -convinced me that we should both put the interests of the Accountant -first. But then it occurred to me that a man with the gold knot of a -Zankor on his collar wasn't often friendly with a mere Trontar. That -thought snapped me out of it and I knew I should only give the minimums.</p> - -<p>"I've got documents," I said—"document" is such a lovely strong word, -"which prove that the official report on the invasion and occupation of -this planet is false." That, I thought, was as minimum as one could get.</p> - -<p>"Ah, and have you?" The Zankor still looked bored. "Well, let's see -them, Trontar," he said briskly.</p> - -<p>The Zankor had that sincere look the upper class always uses when they -are about to do you dirt. They blush that heavy shade of blue, almost -purple, and they look you straight in the eye, and they quiver a bit as -to voice ... and the next thing you know, you're shafted.</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry, Sir," I said, "but what I have is so important that I can -give it to the Accountant only."</p> - -<p>He stared at me for rather a long moment, pondering, no doubt, the -pleasures of witnessing a full-dress military flogging. Then he -shrugged and picked up the speaker beside him. He didn't call the -Trontar of the Guard to come and take my documents by force. I could -tell that even though he spoke in High Haldorian, that harsh language -the upper class are so proud of preserving as a relic from the days -of the early conquerors. No, he was speaking to a superior—there's -never any doubt as to who is on top when people are speaking High -Haldorian—and then I caught the emphatic negative connected with -the present-day Haldorian phrases meaning Phase II and Phase III, -Terraforming. So even though I don't know High Haldorian, and would -never be so incautious as to admit it if I did, I knew roughly what had -been said.</p> - -<p>And I was frantically revising my plans.</p> - -<p>"Follow me," the Zankor said, after completing the call. "We'll see the -Accountant now, and—" he looked at me sincerely—"you'd better have -something very good indeed. You really had, Trontar."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The Accountant turned out to be a tall and thin Full Marshal, the -first I'd seen. He was dressed in a uniform subtly different from -the regulation, and he wore only one tiny ribbon, which I didn't -recognize. He had the slightly deeper-blue skin you often see on the -upper classes, though this impression may have been due to the green -furnishings of the room. It was, in fact, called the Green Room, when -the Terrans had used it as one of their regional capitals.</p> - -<p>I saluted the Accountant with my best salute, the kind you lift like it -was sugar and drop as if it were the other. The Accountant responded -with one of those negligent waves that tell you the saluter was a -survivor of the best and bloodiest private military school in existence.</p> - -<p>"Proceed, Trontar," the Accountant said, leaning back and relaxing as -if he didn't have a care in the universe.</p> - -<p>I launched into my speech, the one I'd been mentally rehearsing. I -told him I knew I was breaking the chain of communication, but that I -was doing it for the service and for Haldoria, etc. Any old serviceman -knows the routine. I was, as I ran through this speech, just as -sincere and just as earnestly interested in the good of Haldoria as -any Haldorian combat Trontar could be. But, deep inside me, the old -Ameet Ruxt was both marveling at the change in himself and cynically -appreciating the performance.</p> - -<p>The Accountant interrupted the performance about halfway through. "Yes, -yes, Trontar," he said brusquely, "I think we can assume your action is -for the good of Haldoria, may the Empire increase and the Emperor live -forever. Yes. But you say you have material dealing with the overall -report on our invasion and occupation of this planet. You further say -this material shows discrepancies in the official report—which you -imply you have seen."</p> - -<p>"Yes, Sir," I said, and I handed over the several sheets of paper which -comprised the old report and the changes of the new. Meanwhile, behind -me, the Zankor was invisible but I had not a doubt but that he was -there, keeping the regulation distance from me.</p> - -<p>These people knew their business.</p> - -<p>The Accountant took the collection of papers and compared them with -some others he had on his desk. I continued to stand at Full Brace. -Once you've been chewed out for slipping into an Ease position without -being so ordered, you never forget.</p> - -<p>The Accountant laid down the papers, scanned my face, got up and -walked to the far end of the room. In front of a mirror he stopped -and fingered that one small ribbon, quite, I thought, as if he were -matching it with another one.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus3.jpg" width="600" height="291" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>He came back quickly and sat down again. "Zankor," he said, "set up -a meeting with the top brass for this afternoon. I'll talk with the -Trontar privately."</p> - -<p>The Zankor saluted and was on his way out the door when the Accountant -spoke again. "And Zankor...."</p> - -<p>"Yes, Sir?"</p> - -<p>"I should be very unhappy if the top brass here—the <i>present</i> top -brass—found out about this material the Trontar brought."</p> - -<p>The Zankor swallowed hard and assured the Accountant that he -understood ... "Sir."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Then we were alone and the Accountant was suddenly a kindly old man who -invited me to sit down and relax. I did. I really let go and stretched -out, I forgot everything I'd ever been taught as a child or had learned -on my climb to the status of Trontar. I relaxed and he had me.</p> - -<p>I had been caught on the standard Haldorian Soft/Hard Tactic.</p> - -<p>"Disabuse your mind, Trontar," the Accountant snapped, and he was no -longer a kindly old man but a thin-lipped Haldorian snapper, "of any -idea that you have saved the Empire—or any such nonsense!" Having -cracked his verbal whip about my shoulders he just crouched there, -glaring at me, his mouth entirely vanished and his eyes—well, I'd just -as soon not think about some things.</p> - -<p>Yes, and then he gave me the Shout/Silence treatment, the whole thing -so masterfully timed that at the end he could have signed me on as -a permanent latrine keeper on a spy satellite in the Slug Galaxy. -A genius, that man was. The sort of man who could—and probably -did—control forty wives without a weapon.</p> - -<p>"Your information, as it happens," he said after I had regained my -senses, "checks with other data I've received. It might be, of course, -that the whole thing is a fabrication of my enemies. In that case, -Trontar—" he looked at me earnestly—"you can be assured you'll not be -around to rejoice at or to profit from my downfall."</p> - -<p>"Of course, Sir," I said, quite as earnestly as he.</p> - -<p>"But we both know that you are only a genuine patriot," he said with a -hearty chuckle, a chuckle exactly like that of a Father Goodness—that -kindly old godfather who brings such nice presents to every Haldorian -child until they are six, and who on that last exciting visit brings, -and enthusiastically uses, a bundle of large and heavy whips to -demonstrate that no one can be trusted. Efficient teachers, the -Haldorians.</p> - -<p>"Just a genuine patriot," the Accountant repeated, "who has rendered -a considerable service to the Empire. Trontar," he said, all friendly -and intimate, "the Empire likes to reward well its faithful sons. What -would you most like to have or to do?"</p> - -<p>"To serve Haldoria, Sir!" I was back on my mental feet at last.</p> - -<p>He dropped his act then. He was, I think, just practicing anyway. We -had a short talk then, the kind in which one person is quickly and -efficiently pumped of everything he knows. After about ten minutes of -question and answers, the Accountant leaned back and studied my face -carefully.</p> - -<p>"Have you considered Officers' Selection Course, Trontar? I might be -able to help you a little in getting in."</p> - -<p>Officers' Selection Course was, I knew, Fighter Basic Course multiplied -in length and casualties. Less than 20 per cent graduate ... or escape.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"No, Sir," I said. "I wondered if I mightn't be of more value to -Haldoria in some way other than being in the combat services." So now -I'd said it and there was nothing to do but to go on. "Perhaps," I -ventured, "I might be of some help in the administrative services."</p> - -<p>The Accountant said nothing, his face was immobile, his hands still. -He'd learned his lessons well, once.</p> - -<p>"In fact," I said, deciding to go for broke, "with my knowledge of the -language and the customs here, I might be of most service to Haldoria -right here on this planet."</p> - -<p>"Had you guessed, by any chance, Trontar," the Accountant's voice was -neutrally soft, "that we won't be terraforming this world? And that we -may not even exploit the slavery proposition?"</p> - -<p>"I thought both those possibilities likely," I admitted.</p> - -<p>"But you know that in such a case we would have no administrative -services on this world? Thus you are, in fact, asking for a position -that wouldn't exist." The Accountant, without a change of position or -expression, somehow gave the impression of looming over me.</p> - -<p>"I thought," I said, trying to pick exactly the right words, and at the -same time all too conscious of a twitching muscle in my left eyelid, -"that there might be an analogous position, even so."</p> - -<p>The Accountant loomed higher.</p> - -<p>"If only," he said, "you hadn't come to us, Trontar. I mean that you, -in effect, sold your associates out to me. And I hold that once a -seller, always a seller. If I could be certain that you are and will be -perfectly loyal to the Haldorian Way...."</p> - -<p>I managed to quiet the twitching eyelid and to look perfectly loyal to -the Haldorian Way.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Trontar," the Accountant said decisively, "I'll buy it."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The results of my conference with the Accountant were not long in -appearing.</p> - -<p>The Haldorian troops were called in, along with the military governors -and the whole administrative body, and they all shipped out, somewhere -into the Big Out-There they all love so much. A surprised Earth was -informed that she was now a full-fledged and self-governing member of -the Haldorian Empire. The Terrans were not informed of the economic -factors behind this decision, though it might have been cheering for -them to know that their Spanglt Resistance Quotient indicated they -would make unsatisfactory slaves. Nor did the high cost of terraforming -the planet get mentioned. We Haldorians prefer the gratitude of others -towards us to be unalloyed with baser, or calculating, emotions.</p> - -<p>Not all the Haldorian personnel went out to fight or to administer. I -understand the space-freighter run to the battle fleet in the Slug -Galaxy gained many new deck-hands, among them one whose uniform showed -the marks where Trontar's stripes had perched.</p> - -<p>As for myself?</p> - -<p>Well, a relatively minor operation changed me into a black-skinned -Terran, though the surgeon/replacers could do nothing, ironically -enough in view of my new color, to increase my resistance to heat. I -remember those stirring days of combat sometimes, usually when I am -making my semi-annual flight between Churchill, Manitoba, and Tierra -Del Fuego. In fact, during those flights when I am practically alone -is the only time I have to reflect or remember, because on both of my -estates there is nothing but noise, children, and wives.</p> - -<p>But it's a good life when the snow is driving down out of a low gray -overcast, just like it does back on Haldor. It's a good life being -Resident Trader on Terra, especially when one is, on the side, a -trusted agent of the Accountant. It would be a perfect life—if the -Accountant hadn't been right about people being unable to stop selling -out.</p> - -<p>Right now I'm up to my neck in this Terran conspiracy to revolt against -the very light bonds Haldoria left on this planet. But how could I -resist the tempting offer the Terrans made me? The long sought-for good -life, it now occurs to me, isn't so much in escaping from something, -but in knowing when to stop. But that I know. I'm drawing the line -right now. I'll just tell that agent of the Slug Galaxy that I have no -intention of selling out both this solar system <i>and</i> Haldoria!</p> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Success Story, by Earl Goodale - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SUCCESS STORY *** - -***** This file should be named 51805-h.htm or 51805-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/8/0/51805/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you -charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you -do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the -rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose -such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and -research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do -practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution. - - - -*** START: FULL LICENSE *** - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at -http://gutenberg.org/license). - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy -all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. -If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" -or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the -collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from -copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative -works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg -are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project -Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by -freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of -this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with -the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by -keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project -Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate -access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently -whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, -copied or distributed: - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived -from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is -posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied -and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees -or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work -with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the -work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 -through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional -terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked -to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the -permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), -you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a -copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon -request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other -form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided -that - -- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is - owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he - has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the - Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments - must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you - prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax - returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and - sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the - address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to - the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." - -- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or - destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium - and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of - Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any - money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days - of receipt of the work. - -- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set -forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from -both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. -To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 -and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent -permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at -809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official -page at http://pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To -SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any -particular state visit http://pglaf.org - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. -To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - -</pre> - -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/51805-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/51805-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index cd33976..0000000 --- a/old/51805-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51805-h/images/illus1.jpg b/old/51805-h/images/illus1.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index bdb11c8..0000000 --- a/old/51805-h/images/illus1.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51805-h/images/illus2.jpg b/old/51805-h/images/illus2.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4bd775f..0000000 --- a/old/51805-h/images/illus2.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51805-h/images/illus3.jpg b/old/51805-h/images/illus3.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 8b870fa..0000000 --- a/old/51805-h/images/illus3.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51805.txt b/old/51805.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 428763e..0000000 --- a/old/51805.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1480 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Success Story, by Earl Goodale - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Success Story - -Author: Earl Goodale - -Release Date: April 19, 2016 [EBook #51805] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SUCCESS STORY *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - SUCCESS STORY - - By EARL GOODALE - - Illustrated by WOOD - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Galaxy Magazine April 1960. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - - Terra resounded to the triple toast of the - Haldorian hordes: For Haldor! For Glory! - And for Heaven's sake, let us out of here! - - -Once my name was Ameet Ruxt, my skin was light blue, and I was a -moderately low-ranking member of the Haldorian Empire. Or should -I say I was a member of the lower income group? No, definitely -"low-ranking," because in a warrior society, even one with as high a -technological level as a statistician sits low on the totem pole. He -is handed the wrong end of the stick--call it what you will; he's -the one who doesn't acquire even one wife for years and he hasn't a -courtesy title. He's the man they draft into their Invasion Forces--the -Haldorians are always invading someone--and turn him into a Fighter -Basic in a third of a year. - -"Look," I'd complained to the burly two-striper in the Receiving -Center, "I'm a trained statistician with a degree and...." - -"Say Sir, when you address me." - -I started over again. "I know, Sir, that they use statisticians in the -service. So if Haldor needs me in the service it's only sensible that I -should work in statistics." - -The Hweetoral looked bored, but I've found out since that all -two-stripers looked bored; it's because so many of them have attained, -at that rank, their life's ambition. "Sure, sure. But we just got a -directive down on all you paper-pushers. Every one of you from now on -out is headed for Fighter Basic Course. You know, I envy you, Ruxt. -Haldor, what I wouldn't give to be out there with real men again! -Jetting down on some new planet--raying down the mongrels till they -yelled for mercy--and grabbing a new chunk of sky for the Empire. -Haldor! That's the life!" He glanced modestly down at his medalled -chest. - -"Yes, Sir," I said, "it sure is. But look at my examination records you -have right there. Physically I'm only a 3 and you have to have a 5 to -go to Basic Fighter. And besides," I threw in the clincher, though I -was a bit ashamed of it, "my fighting aptitude only measures a 2!" - -The Hweetoral sneered unsubtly and grabbed a scriber with heavy -fingers. A couple of slashes, a couple of new entries, and lo, I was -now a 5 in both departments. I was qualified in every respect. - -"See," he said, "that's your first lesson in the Service, Ruxt. -Figures don't mean a thing, because they can always be changed. That's -something a figure pusher like you has to learn. So--" he shoved -out that ponderous hand and crushed mine before I could protect -myself--"good luck, Ruxt. I know you'll get through that course--alive, -I mean." He chuckled heartily. "And I know men!" - - * * * * * - -He was right. I got through alive. But then, 76.5 per cent of draftees -do get through the Basic Fighter Course, alive. But for me it took a -drastic rearrangement of philosophy. - -Me, all I'd ever wanted was a good life. An adequate income, art and -music, congenial friends, an understanding wife--just one wife was all -I'd ever hoped for. As you can see, I was an untypical Haldorian on -every point. - -After my first day in Basic Fighter Course I just wanted to stay alive. - -"There's two kinds of men we turn out here," our Haldor told us as -we lined up awkwardly for the first time (that scene so loved by -vision-makers). We new draftees called our Trontar our Haldor because -he actually had the power over our bodies that the chaplains assured us -the Heavenly Haldor had over our liberated spirits. Our Trontar looked -us over with his fatherly stare, flexing his powerful arm muscles so -that his three tattooed stripes rippled and danced. "Yeah," he went -on, "two kinds of men: Fighting men and dead men!" The Trontar grinned -that fighting Haldorian grin you see all your lives on the Prop Sheets. -"And I'll tell you something, men. When you leave here--all Fighters -Basic--I'm going to envy you. Yeah, I'll really envy you gutsy killers -when you go out in that big Out-There and grab yourselves a new chunk -of sky." He paused and studied our faces. "Now we're gonna run, and I -do mean run, two full decades. The last four men in get to do it over -again, and pull kitchen duty tonight too." - -I tried, as others have tried, to slip quietly out of Basic Fighter. I -tried being sick, but following sick report one found oneself doing a -full day's training--after the understanding medics had shoved some pep -pills into you. I demanded a physical examination. They weren't going -to push me around. - -After a couple of days in solitary, I asked in a nice way for physical -evaluation. - -Well, I asked. I wasn't very smart in those days. - -They weren't interested in my story of how my records had been -falsified or in my fighting aptitude. - -"Look, draftee," the psycho-man said after I finally got to him, "the -fact that you've got to see me shows you have enough of a fighting -aptitude. Your Trontar didn't encourage you to request evaluation, did -he? And he isn't going to like you very much when you report back to -your platoon, is he?" - -I shuddered. "Not exactly." - -"Call me Sir." - -"No, Sir. But I was desperate, Sir. I don't think I can stand...." - - * * * * * - -"Draftee, you know that some unfortunate men break down in training and -that we have to take them out. Maybe you've already lost some that way. -Suppose you were brought in here, gibbering, yowling, and drooling--I -guess we'd have to cure you and send you back home as non-fighter -material, eh?" - -Someone up here liked me! Here was a tip on how to escape back to the -old quiet life. I nodded agreeably. - -"But you know, don't you," he said softly, "that first we run a -thorough test on our drooling draftee? Say it's you...." - -I nodded again. - -"We most always detect fakers. And you know there's a death penalty -for any Haldorian attempting to escape his duty." He smiled sadly, and -reminiscently. - -I nodded. Maybe someone up here didn't like me. - -"So we'd shoot you dead with one of those primitive projectile -weapons, as an object lesson for both you and the draftees we had -remaining." - -I nodded and tried to show by my countenance how much I approved of -people being shot dead with primitive weapons. - -"But suppose," he went on, "that you'd really cracked up or that you'd -faked successfully?" - -"Yes, Sir?" Hope returned, hesitantly and on tip-toes, ready to flee. - -"Then we'd cure you," he said. "But the cure unfortunately involves -the destruction of your higher mental faculties. And so there'd be -nothing for it but to ship you off to one of the mining planets. That's -standard procedure, if you didn't know. But I think you'll be all right -now, don't you?" - -Hope fled. I assured him that I'd be just fine and reported back, on -the double, to my training platoon. - -"Just in time, Ruxt," my Trontar greeted me. "Back for full duty, I -take it? That's the Haldorian spirit!" He turned to the platoon which -was lined up like three rows of sweaty statues. "Men, remember what -I told you about taking cover when you're under fire--and staying -under cover? Just suppose we suddenly came under fire--flat trajectory -stuff--out here on this flat exercise ground with no cover except in -that latrine pit over there. Would any of you hesitate to dive into -that latrine pit? And once in there, safe and sound, would any of you -not stay there until I gave the word to come out?" - -A perceptible shudder passed like a wave over the platoon. We knew the -Trontar did not ask pointless questions. - -"Of course you wouldn't," he assured us, "and you'd even stay in there -all day under this hot sun if you had to. Ruxt! You're rested and -refreshed from visiting the hospital. You demonstrate how it's done." - -It was a long day, even though my Trontar kindly sent some sandwiches -over to me at high noon. I didn't eat much. But I did do a lot of -thinking. - - * * * * * - -There was one last hope. I wrote a letter to a remote clan relative who -was supposed to have a small amount of influence. - -It was a moving letter. I told how my test results had been falsified, -what beasts our trainers were, how the medics refused to retest -me--very much the standard letter that new Haldorian trainees write. -As I went out to mail this plea, one evening, I met two of my fellow -trainees starting out on a night march in full field equipment. - -"How come?" I asked, instantly fearful that I'd missed some notice on -the bulletin board. - -"We wrote letters," one of them said simply. - -"The Trontar censors all our mail," said the other. "Didn't you know? -Oh, well, neither did we." - -As they marched off, I made a small bonfire out of my letter after -first, almost, just throwing it away--before I remembered that the -Hweetorals checked our waste cans. What a man has to do to hold two -measly stripes! - -Acceptance of the inevitable is the beginning of wisdom, says the -ancient Haldorian sage. I put in an application for transfer to the -Statistical Services to be effective upon _completion_ of Basic Fighter -Course. - -"Statistical Services?" the Company Clerk asked. "What's that? Anyhow, -you're going to be a Fighter Basic, if you get through this training," -he said darkly. The Company Clerk was a sad victim of our Haldorian -passion for realistic training; he had lacked one day of completing -Fighter Basic when he'd let his leg dangle a bit too long after he'd -scaled a wall, and the training gentlemen had unemotionally shot it -off. As it turned out, our efficient surgeon/replacers had been unable, -for some technical reason, to grow back enough leg for full duty. So -there was nothing for it but to use the man as could be best done. -They'd made him a clerk--mainly because that was the specialty they -were shortest of at the time. - -"Who says you can put in for Statistical Services?" the Company Clerk -demanded. - -"Reg 39-47A." I was learning my way around. The night before I was on -orderly duty in the office. I had tracked down the chapter and verse -which, theoretically, allowed a man to change his destiny. - -"Know the Regs, do you? Starting to be a trouble-maker, huh? Yeah, -Ruxt, I'll put in your application." - -I turned away with some feeling of relief. This might possibly work. - -The Company Clerk called me back. "You know the Regs so good, Ruxt," he -said. "How come you didn't ask me for permission to leave? I'm cadre, -you know." He leaned back in his chair and grinned at me. "Just to -help you remember the correct Haldorian deportment I'm putting you on -kitchen duty for the next three nights. That way," he grinned again, -"you can divide up your five hours of sleep over three nights instead -of crowding them all into one." - -Poor deluded Company Clerk! I actually averaged three hours of sleep -every one of those three nights--after I found out that the mess -Trontar would accept my smoking ration. - -I felt that I was beginning to understand the system, a little and at -long last, particularly after I saw my co-workers in the kitchen doing -what should have been my work. - - -II - -Then we started combat training, and then we started losing our normal -23.5 per cent. - -It wasn't too bad as long as they stuck to the primitive stuff. I mean, -you can see arrows and spears coming at you, and even if you have -had only the five hours of sleep you can either duck the projectiles -or catch them on your shield. And with the medics on the alert, the -wounds are painful but seldom fatal. You just end up with a week's -hospitalization and slip back to the next training group. But when they -go up to the explosively-propelled solids, when the Trontar smirks and -says: "Men, this is called a boomer, or a banger, or maybe sometimes a -firestick, depending on what planet you're fighting on," and when he -holds up a contraption of wood and metal with a hole at one end and a -handle on the other--then, Draftee, look out! - -It takes time to learn. It isn't till you associate a bang in the -distance with a perforated man beside you that you do learn. And when -you finally come under fire from our regular production weapons like -rays--well! - -You might wonder why they run us through the entire history of weapons -starting with the sling and ending with the slithers--the name -servicemen give to those Zeta Rays that diverge from line of sight to -drop in on a dug-in enemy. The usual explanation is that Haldorians -are still invading places where the natives still use such things as -bows and arrows. But I think, myself, that it's something the Mil Prop -guys figured out. The idea is, as I see it, to run you right through -the whole course of our fighting, invading Haldorian history, and in -that way to make a better fighter out of you. And you do get rid of -the death-prones before there's much time or work invested in them--or -before their inevitable early death means the failure of a mission. -Haldoria--most practical of Empires! - -But they didn't make a fighter of me. All they did was to reinforce -my natural survival instinct considerably, acquaint me with the -tortuous ways of the service, and give me a great urge for a peaceful -existence. But to all appearances, as I stood in the orderly room after -graduation, I was the ideal poster-picture of a Haldorian, completely -uniformed with polished power boots and rayer, a crawler to the -higher-ups and a stomper on the lower-downs, a Fighter Basic with no -compassion but with a certified aptitude for advancement to at least -the rank of Trontar. - -"Fighter Basic Ruxt," the Dispositions Hweetoral announced. - -"Here, Sir!" - -"Your application for transfer to Statistical Services has been -disapproved." The two-striper's expression showed what he, as a -fighting man, thought of the Statistical Services. "But we've got a -real assignment for you, Ruxt! The 27th Invasion Force is all set -to drop on a new system. You're lucky, Ruxt, that you put in that -application. We had to hold you till it bounced. Your buddies got -shipped to those rear-echelon guard outfits, but you're going to a -real fighting one. It should be a good invasion--this new system's got -atomic fission, I hear. And I'd like to tell you something, Ruxt...." - -"I know what, Sir," I said. "You envy me." - - * * * * * - -The 27th was a real fighting unit all right: they had their own -neckerchief, their own war cry, and a general who was on his way up. -Now they had me. - -And they were going to get another system for the Haldorian Empire. - -You see, those intelligent worms, or maybe they are slugs--I'm a bit -vague on universe geography--over on the next Galaxy but one, give -us Haldorians all sorts of difficulties. They insist on freedom, -self-determination, and all that sort of thing. That's all very well, -but they insist on them for themselves. Our high-level planners -decided that another solar system would make a better offensive set-up -for Haldoria. The planners, I understand, have all sorts of esoteric -theories about the ideal shape and size of an offensive unit. They ring -in time and something related to time which makes Galaxy distances -differ according to which direction you are travelling. As I say, -esoteric. - -The only thing that mattered to me was that some technicians had fed -some data into a computer and it had hiccupped and said: "You'll -need such-and-such a planet to control such-and-such a solar system, -and that will give you a better offensive set-up." Then the computer -hiccupped again and said: "You'll need to draft and train Ameet Ruxt -to help on this little job of taking over this planet called Terra, or -Earth." - -That's what it amounted to, anyhow. Consequently I joined the 27th -Invasion Force. - -"So you've got an application in for transfer to the Statistical -Services, huh?" Trontar Hytd, my new platoon three-striper, asked when -I reported in for duty with the 27th. - -"Yes, Sir." I'd learned, along the line, that one should never give up -when applying for a transfer--just keep one in the mill. - -"Huh, Borr, this new guy likes to work with figures," Trontar Hytd -growled at Hweetoral Borr, my new squad leader. "Thinks he doesn't -want to be a Fighter." Trontar Hytd looked at me questioningly. - -I didn't say anything. I'd learned a lot in Basic Fighter Course. - -"Figures?" asked Hweetoral Borr. I could see a train of thought had -been started in the Hweetoral's mind. - -"Yeah, figures," snapped Trontar Hytd. "He likes to count things, Borr. -Get it?" - -"Guess we need all our ray charges counted, for one thing," suggested -Hweetoral Borr. "I get all mixed up with them figures." - -"After training hours, of course," Trontar Hytd said. - -"Of course, Trontar. And someone's gotta jawbone some kind of report on -ammo expenditures every training day. Maybe after the rest of us have -sacked in, for instance?" - -"Of course. Okay, Hweetoral, I guess you got the idea." - -Invasion was almost a relief after that brief bit of refresher training -the 27th was going through. - -Our General-on-the-way-up had outlined his plan of attack: "Drop'm, -hit'm, lift'm and drop'm again." So I dropped, hit the defenders, was -lifted to a new center of resistance, and dropped again. I understand -it was a standard type of invasion, there's only one way to do simple -things. - - * * * * * - -Once in a while, these days, I remember those sadistic and -battle-hardened comrades of mine. Hard, gutsy Trontar Hytd stayed -on his feet to direct his platoon underground after our Kansas -force collapsed, and one of those little fission weapons separated -his body parts too widely for even our unsentimentally competent -surgeon/replacer to reassemble him. Well, they had a go at the job, but -they had to ray down what they created--some primitive regression had -set in and the creature was hungry. - -And rough and tough Hweetoral Borr incautiously scratched his hairy -ear just when one of those rude projectile weapons was firing at -him. The slug slipped through that opening the Hweetoral had made in -his body armor. With the brain gone--or such brain as Hweetoral Borr -possessed--our kindly old surgeon/replacer was foxed again. - -Then there were the new germs.... - -But these things are as nothing to the creative military mind. A swarm -of regulations, manuals and directives issue forth from headquarters, -and force fields cease to collapse, and fighters keep their body armor -on and adjusted. When something like the influenza germ wipes out half -a platoon, the wheels turn, a new vaccine is devised, and no more -Haldorians die from that particular germ. All the individual has to do -is to live from one injection to the next (any civilized enemy always -dreams up new diseases), move from one enemy strong point to the next, -and dream of the day when he can return to his old life. For me it was -a dream of returning to that quiet tiny room with its walls lined with -the best of Haldorian art--just cheap reproductions, of course--and -never again to handle a rayer or to wear armor. Real life, meanwhile, -went on. - -"Fighter First-Class Ruxt! Take these men and blast that strong -point!" That would be the order somewhere in Missouri, or maybe in -Mississippi--I never was much good on micro-geography. "Hweetoral Ruxt! -Take your squad and clean out that city. New Orleans they call it. Get -their formal surrender and make damn sure there are no guerrillas left -when the colonel comes through to inspect." - -By the time I was Trontar Ruxt the invasion was practically over. As I -say, it was the standard thing with one or two countries holding out -after all hope was gone--England never did formally surrender, not that -it mattered--and our successful General was made a Sub-Marshal of the -Haldorian Empire. - -A real promotion and a great honor. Much good it did him when he -ventured his battle fleet too far into the Slug lines a year later. - -With the fighting over--the real fighting, I mean--the ever-efficient -Haldorians started moving their troops off Earth to get ready for a new -and bigger invasion that the computers had decreed. Only a few troops -were to be left behind for occupation and guard stuff. - -I had a talk with a fat Assignments Trontar in his plush office. - -"You know, Trontar," I said, "I was hoping to see more of this world -here, and the rumor is that all of us excess combat types are being -shipped to a training world to be shaped into new invasion forces." - -"Tough," he said. He should know. He'd requisitioned a mansion complete -with servants and everything. He even had a native trained to drive one -of their luxuriously inefficient ground vehicles. What a deal! That -Trontar had no worries, _his_ anti-grav ray was working. - - * * * * * - -"I heard that a man doesn't even need any money if he's stationed down -at our headquarters," I said, and I hauled out a handful of Haldorian -notes from my pocket. "Guess I wouldn't need this stuff if I was -transferred down to our headquarters." - -"Who needs money?" he asked. "Guys all the time trying to bribe me, -Trontar. You'd be surprised. Sure glad you aren't, though, because I -do hate to turn anyone in." - -I put the money back in my pocket. "Speaking of turning in people," -I said casually, "you ever have any trouble with the undercover boys -about all this loot you've picked up?" This, I thought, would shake -him--and at the same time I marvelled at how I'd changed from a simple, -naive statistician to a tough and conniving combat NCO. - -He yawned all over his fat face and swung his swivel chair so that -he could better admire the picture beside his desk. I recognized the -picture as a moderately good reproduction of a Huxtner, a minor painter -of our XXVth. "No," the Assignments Trontar said, "it turns out that -one of my sept brothers runs the local watch birds. He often drops in -here to visit with me. But anything I can do for you, Trontar?" - -"No," I said, and I fired at the only possible loophole left, "I'll -just leave quietly so you can admire your Huxtner." - -He swung back to me with a start. "You recognize a Huxtner? You're the -first man I've ever met in the service who ever heard of Huxtner, let -alone recognizing one of his masterpieces! Hey, did you know I brought -this all the way from home in my hammock roll? And just look at the -coloring of that figure there!" - -The loophole had been blasted wide open. "You're lucky," I said, -and I went on to lie about how I'd lost my own Huxtner prints in the -invasion. "No one," I continued, "ever got quite that flesh tint of -Huxtner's, did they?" - -Huxtner, by the way, is notorious for using a yellow undercoat for his -blue flesh colors, unlike every realistic painter before or after who -have all used green undercoats--what else? Imagine a chrome-yellow -underlaying a blue skin color. All Huxtner's figures look like two-week -corpses--but Huxtner enthusiasts are unique. - -The Assignments Trontar and I had a nice long chat about Huxtner, at -the conclusion of which he insisted on scratching my name from the -list of combat-bound men and putting me on a much smaller list of men -scheduled for our guard outfit, stationed at the old Terran capital of -Washington. - -I had an un-Haldorian feeling of having arranged my own life after that -incident. That feeling persisted even after I took over one of the -guard platoons and discovered that life in a guard outfit is rather -similar to Basic Fighter Course. - -"Trontar Ruxt! Two men of your platoon have tarnished armor. Get them -working on it, and maybe you'd better stay and see that they do it -properly." - -"Yes, Sir." - -One lives and learns. I turned the job of supervising the armor -cleaning to the Hweetorals of the squads and then I went home to my -native woman. Yes, this guard's outfit life was like Fighter Basic -Course. - -But only for the lower ranks. - - -III - -Life wasn't too unendurable in those days. The duties were incredibly -dull, of course, but the danger of sudden death had receded, since only -a few fanatics still tried to pick off us occupation troops. And this -new world of Haldoria's was rich in the things a sensitive and artistic -man appreciates: painting, sculpture, music. Then there was this new -and pleasing thing of living with a woman.... - -But it wouldn't last long. - -Soon there'd be another planet to invade and maybe a space battle with -the great enemy. More years of cramped living and lurking danger, for -in the Empire one was drafted for the duration, and this duration was -now some four hundred years old. The most Trontar Ruxt could expect, -the very most, was to somehow keep alive for another fifty years and -then to retire on a small pension to one of the lesser worlds of the -Empire. - -"Trontar Ruxt! Your records show that you're a statistician." My -commanding officer stared at me suspiciously, for a fighting man, even -one on guard duty, distrusts office personnel. And as everyone knows, -"Once a fighting man, always a fighting man." I think my C.O.'s last -action had been thirty years ago. - -"I was a statistician before I got in the service, Sir." - -"Well, they're screaming over at headquarters for qualified office -personnel, and we have to send them any trained men we have--of any -rank." - -"It's for Haldor, Sir," I said. By now I knew the correct answer was -most often the noncommittal one. - -I reported to the Headquarters, 27th Invasion Force. The rumor was -that Phase II, Reduction of Inhabitants to Slavery with Shipment to -Haldorian Colonies, was about to start. And also, our Planners were -supposed to be well into Phase III, Terraforming, already. Terraforming -was necessary, of course, to bring the average temperature of earth -down to something like the sub-arctic so that we Haldorians could live -here in comfort. We lost quite a few fighters during invasion when -their cooling systems broke down. Rumor, as always, was dead right; and -the Headquarters was a mad rat-race. - -The Senior Trontar of the office was delighted to get another body. - -"Took your time getting here, Ruxt! You guard louts don't know the -meaning of time, do you?" - -I remained at attention. - -"So you're a statistician, are you? Well, we don't need any -statisticians now. We just got in a whole squad of them. Can you use a -writer, maybe?" - - * * * * * - -"Yes, Sir," I did not remind the Senior Trontar that using a writer was -a clerk's job, not a Trontar's, not a combat three-striper's, because -the chances were that he knew it, for one thing. And he could easily -make me a clerk, for another thing. - -"Okay. Now that we understand each other," the Senior Trontar grinned, -"or that you understand me, which is all that matters, here's your -job." He handed me a stack of scribbled notes, some rolls of speech -tape and a couple of cans of visual stuff. "Make up a report in -standard format like this example. Consolidate all this stuff into it. -This report has to be ready in two days, and it has to be perfect. No -misspellings, no erasures, no nothing. Got that?" - -"Yes, Sir." - -"Yes, Sir," he mimicked. "Haldor only knows why they couldn't send me a -few clerks instead of a squad of statisticians and one guard Trontar. -Do you know what this stuff is that you're going to work up? It's the -final report on our invasion here!" - -I looked impressed. Strange how you learn, after a while, even the -facial expression you are supposed to wear. - -"Do you know why this report has to be perfect in format and -appearance?" I wouldn't say the Senior Trontar's manner was bullying, -quite. Perhaps one could call it hectoring. "Because the Accountant -is out in this sector somewhere and we have to be ready for him if he -drops in." - -This time I didn't have to try to look impressed. The Accountant is the -man who passes judgment on the conduct of all military matters--though -of course he's not one man, but maybe a dozen of them. Armed with -the invaluable weapon of hindsight, he drops in after an invasion -is completed. He determines whether the affair has gone according -to regulations, or whether there has been carelessness, slackness -or wasting of Haldorian resources of men or material. Additionally -he monitors civil administration of colonies and federated worlds. -There are stories of Generals becoming Fighter Basics and Chief -Administrators becoming sub-clerks after an Accountant's visit. - - * * * * * - -I got the report done, but it took the full two days--mainly because -fighting men make such incomplete and erroneous reports while action -is going on. I got to understand the exasperated concern of office -personnel who have to consolidate varied fragments into a coherent -whole. And adding to the natural difficulties of the task was the -continual presence of the Senior Trontar, and his barbed comments and -lurid promises as to what would follow my failure at the work. - -But the report was done and sent in to the Adjutant. - -It came back covered with scribbled changes, additions, and -deletions--and it came back carried by a much disturbed Senior Trontar. - -"Who in Haldor do they think I am?" he moaned. "I just handed on to you -the figures that they gave me. Me! And threatening me with duty on a -space freighter ... and one into the Slug area at that!" - -I thought, as I looked at my ruined script, that guard duty wasn't so -bad, and that even combat wasn't rough _all_ the time. - -"See, Trontar," the four-striper said, calling me by my proper rank for -the first time, "you did a good job, the Adjutant himself said so. But -these figures...." he shuddered. "If the Accountant should see these -we'd all be for it. Space-freighter duty would be getting off light." -The Senior Trontar seemed almost human to me right then. - -"I just put down what you gave me," I said. - -"Yeah, sure, Ruxt. But I didn't realize, nobody realized, how bad the -figures were till they were all together and written up. Look, this -report shows that we shouldn't Terraform this planet--that we can't -make a nudnick on the slavery proposition--and that maybe we shouldn't -have even invaded this inferno at all." - -"So what do you want me to do?" - -"I'll tell you what you're going to do...." The Senior Trontar had -regained his normal nasty disposition. "You're going to re-do this -report. You're going to re-do it starting now, you're going to work on -it all night, and you're going to have it on my desk and in perfect -shape when I come in in the morning, or, by Haldor, the next thing you -write will be your transfer to the space freighter run nearest the Slug -Galaxy." The Senior Trontar ran momentarily out of breath. "And," he -came back strongly, "you won't be going as no Trontar, neither!" - -"It'll be on your desk in the morning, Sir," I said. - -Deck hands on the space freighter run were, I'd heard, particularly -expendable. - - * * * * * - -By the middle of the third watch I had completed a perfect copy of the -report complete with attachments, appendices, and supplements. And also -by this time I knew from the differences between the original report -and this jawboned version that someone had goofed badly in undertaking -this invasion, and then had goofed worse in not calling the thing off. -Now there was to be considerable covering-up of tracks. The thought -suddenly came to me that a guard's trontar named Ruxt knew rather a -lot of what had gone on. Following that mildly worrying thought came a -notion that perhaps a guard's trontar named Ruxt might be considered -by some as just another set of tracks to be covered up. That far-off -retirement on a small but steady income became even more unlikely, and -the possibilities began to appear of a quick end in the Slug-shattered -hulk of a space freighter. - -Had the Senior Trontar changed in his attitude towards me, towards -the end of the day, perhaps acted as though I were a condemned man? -Possibly. And had some of the officers been whispering about me late in -the afternoon? Could have been. - -Shaken, I wandered down to the mess hall and joined a group of -third-watch guards, who were goofing off while their Trontar was -checking more distant guard posts. - -"It's easy," one of them was telling the others. "All you got to do is -to slip some surgeon/replacer a few big notes and he gives you this -operation which makes you look like a native. And then you just settle -down on Astarte for the rest of your life with the women just begging -you to let them support you." - -"You mean you'd rather live on some lousy federated world than be a -Haldorian in the Invasion Forces?" There was a strong sardonic note in -the questioner's voice. - -"Man, you ever been on Astarte?" the first man asked incredulously. - -"Yeah, but how are you going to be sure that the surgeon/replacer -doesn't turn you in?" objected one of the others. "He could take your -money, do the operation, and have you picked up. That way he'd have the -money and get a medal too." - -"I'd get around that," the talky guy said, "I'd just...." - -At this point he was jabbed in the arm by one of his buddies who had -noticed my eavesdropping. The man shut up. All four of them drifted off -to their posts. - - * * * * * - -I went reluctantly back to the office. From then till dawn I dreamed -up and rehearsed all manner of wild schemes to take me out of this -dangerous situation. Or was it all perhaps just imagination? A -Haldorian Trontar should never be guilty of an excess of that quality. -But I made sure when the Senior Trontar sneaked in a bit before the -regular opening time, that I was just, apparently, completing the last -page of the report. The impression I hoped to convey was that I had -spent the entire night in working and worrying. - -"It's okay," the Senior Trontar growled after he had studied the -completed report. "Guess you can take a couple of days off, Ruxt. I -believe in taking care of my men. Say," he asked casually, "I suppose -you didn't understand those figures you were working up, did you?" - -"No," I said, "I didn't pay any attention to them, they were just -something to copy, that's all." I felt confident that I could out-fence -the Senior Trontar any time at this little game, but what had he and -the Adjutant been whispering about before they had come in? - -"But you used to be a statistician, didn't you?" He looked at the far -corner of the room and smiled slightly. "But you take a couple days -off, Ruxt. Maybe we'll find something good for you when you come back." -He smiled again. "Don't forget to check out with the Locator before you -go, though. We don't want to lose you." - -I stumbled home, not even noticing the hate-filled glances my armor and -blue skin drew from the natives along the streets. The glances were -standard, but this feeling of being doomed was new. - -They were going to get me. I felt sure of that, even though my Sike -Test Scores had always been as low as any normal's. But how could a -Haldorian disappear on this planet? Aside from skin color, there was -the need to keep body temperatures at a livable level. The body armor -unit was good only for about a week. Find a surgeon/replacer and bribe -him to change me to an Earthman? I saw now how ridiculous such an idea -was. But was there nothing but to wait passively while the Senior -Trontar and the Adjutant, and whoever else did the dirty work, all got -together and railroaded me off? - -Haldorians, though, never surrender--or so the Mil Prop lad would have -us believe. Right from the time you are four years old and you start -seeing the legendary founders of Haldoria--Bordt and Smordt--fighting -off the fierce six-legged carnivores, you are told never to give up. -"Where there's Haldor, there's Hope!" "There's always another stone for -the wolves, if you but look." I must confess I'd snickered (way deep -inside, naturally) at these exhortations ever since I'd reached the age -of thinking, but now all these childhood admonitions came rushing back -to give me strength, quite as they were intended to do. I found that I -could but go down like any Haldorian, fighting to the last. - - -IV - -So I put on my dress uniform the next day, and made sure that nothing -could be deader than the dulled bits, or brighter than the polished -ones. A bit of this effort was wasted since I arrived at Headquarters -looking something less than sharp. The cooling unit in my armor was -acting up a bit; and, also, three Terran city guerillas had tried to -ambush me on the way. You take quite a jolt from a land mine, even with -armor set on maximum. Some of those people never knew when they were -licked. No wonder their Spanglt Resistance Quotient was close to the -highest on record. - -I got through the three lines of guards and protective force fields -all right, checking my rayer here, my armor there--the usual dull -procedure. By the time I reached the Admissions Officer I was down to -uniform and medals. - -"You want to see the Accountant?" the Admissions Officer asked -incredulously. "You mean one of his staff! Well, where's your request -slip, Trontar?" - -"I've come on my own, Sir," I said, "not from my office, so I haven't -a request slip." - -"Come on your own? What's your unit? Give me your ID card!" - -Let's see, I thought, I've abstracted classified material from the -files and carried it outside the office, I've broken the chain of -command and communication, and, worst of all, I'd tried to see a senior -officer without a request slip. Yeah, maybe I'd be lucky to end up as a -_live_ deckhand on a space freighter. - -A bored young Zankor with the rarely-seen balance insignia of the -Accountant's Office rose from behind the Admissions Officer. - -"I'll take responsibility for this man," he said casually to the A.O. -"Follow me, Trontar. I was wondering when you'd turn up." - -"Me?" - -"Well, someone like you. Though usually it's scared sub-clerks that we -drag up. And that reminds me." He turned to another young and equally -bored Zankor standing nearby. "Take over, Smit, will you? They're -bringing in that sub-clerk who's been writing those anonymous letters. -I've reserved the Inquisition Room for a couple of hours for him." - -I followed the Zankor as he strode away, wondering as I did if they had -more than one Inquisition Room. - -He led me into a small room just off the corridor and motioned me to a -chair. "Before you see the Accountant, Trontar," he said, "I'll have -to screen what you have. It may be that we won't have to bother the -Accountant at all." - - * * * * * - -The smooth way the Zankor talked and his friendly manner almost -convinced me that we should both put the interests of the Accountant -first. But then it occurred to me that a man with the gold knot of a -Zankor on his collar wasn't often friendly with a mere Trontar. That -thought snapped me out of it and I knew I should only give the minimums. - -"I've got documents," I said--"document" is such a lovely strong word, -"which prove that the official report on the invasion and occupation of -this planet is false." That, I thought, was as minimum as one could get. - -"Ah, and have you?" The Zankor still looked bored. "Well, let's see -them, Trontar," he said briskly. - -The Zankor had that sincere look the upper class always uses when they -are about to do you dirt. They blush that heavy shade of blue, almost -purple, and they look you straight in the eye, and they quiver a bit as -to voice ... and the next thing you know, you're shafted. - -"I'm sorry, Sir," I said, "but what I have is so important that I can -give it to the Accountant only." - -He stared at me for rather a long moment, pondering, no doubt, the -pleasures of witnessing a full-dress military flogging. Then he -shrugged and picked up the speaker beside him. He didn't call the -Trontar of the Guard to come and take my documents by force. I could -tell that even though he spoke in High Haldorian, that harsh language -the upper class are so proud of preserving as a relic from the days -of the early conquerors. No, he was speaking to a superior--there's -never any doubt as to who is on top when people are speaking High -Haldorian--and then I caught the emphatic negative connected with -the present-day Haldorian phrases meaning Phase II and Phase III, -Terraforming. So even though I don't know High Haldorian, and would -never be so incautious as to admit it if I did, I knew roughly what had -been said. - -And I was frantically revising my plans. - -"Follow me," the Zankor said, after completing the call. "We'll see the -Accountant now, and--" he looked at me sincerely--"you'd better have -something very good indeed. You really had, Trontar." - - * * * * * - -The Accountant turned out to be a tall and thin Full Marshal, the -first I'd seen. He was dressed in a uniform subtly different from -the regulation, and he wore only one tiny ribbon, which I didn't -recognize. He had the slightly deeper-blue skin you often see on the -upper classes, though this impression may have been due to the green -furnishings of the room. It was, in fact, called the Green Room, when -the Terrans had used it as one of their regional capitals. - -I saluted the Accountant with my best salute, the kind you lift like it -was sugar and drop as if it were the other. The Accountant responded -with one of those negligent waves that tell you the saluter was a -survivor of the best and bloodiest private military school in existence. - -"Proceed, Trontar," the Accountant said, leaning back and relaxing as -if he didn't have a care in the universe. - -I launched into my speech, the one I'd been mentally rehearsing. I -told him I knew I was breaking the chain of communication, but that I -was doing it for the service and for Haldoria, etc. Any old serviceman -knows the routine. I was, as I ran through this speech, just as -sincere and just as earnestly interested in the good of Haldoria as -any Haldorian combat Trontar could be. But, deep inside me, the old -Ameet Ruxt was both marveling at the change in himself and cynically -appreciating the performance. - -The Accountant interrupted the performance about halfway through. "Yes, -yes, Trontar," he said brusquely, "I think we can assume your action is -for the good of Haldoria, may the Empire increase and the Emperor live -forever. Yes. But you say you have material dealing with the overall -report on our invasion and occupation of this planet. You further say -this material shows discrepancies in the official report--which you -imply you have seen." - -"Yes, Sir," I said, and I handed over the several sheets of paper which -comprised the old report and the changes of the new. Meanwhile, behind -me, the Zankor was invisible but I had not a doubt but that he was -there, keeping the regulation distance from me. - -These people knew their business. - -The Accountant took the collection of papers and compared them with -some others he had on his desk. I continued to stand at Full Brace. -Once you've been chewed out for slipping into an Ease position without -being so ordered, you never forget. - -The Accountant laid down the papers, scanned my face, got up and -walked to the far end of the room. In front of a mirror he stopped -and fingered that one small ribbon, quite, I thought, as if he were -matching it with another one. - -He came back quickly and sat down again. "Zankor," he said, "set up -a meeting with the top brass for this afternoon. I'll talk with the -Trontar privately." - -The Zankor saluted and was on his way out the door when the Accountant -spoke again. "And Zankor...." - -"Yes, Sir?" - -"I should be very unhappy if the top brass here--the _present_ top -brass--found out about this material the Trontar brought." - -The Zankor swallowed hard and assured the Accountant that he -understood ... "Sir." - - * * * * * - -Then we were alone and the Accountant was suddenly a kindly old man who -invited me to sit down and relax. I did. I really let go and stretched -out, I forgot everything I'd ever been taught as a child or had learned -on my climb to the status of Trontar. I relaxed and he had me. - -I had been caught on the standard Haldorian Soft/Hard Tactic. - -"Disabuse your mind, Trontar," the Accountant snapped, and he was no -longer a kindly old man but a thin-lipped Haldorian snapper, "of any -idea that you have saved the Empire--or any such nonsense!" Having -cracked his verbal whip about my shoulders he just crouched there, -glaring at me, his mouth entirely vanished and his eyes--well, I'd just -as soon not think about some things. - -Yes, and then he gave me the Shout/Silence treatment, the whole thing -so masterfully timed that at the end he could have signed me on as -a permanent latrine keeper on a spy satellite in the Slug Galaxy. -A genius, that man was. The sort of man who could--and probably -did--control forty wives without a weapon. - -"Your information, as it happens," he said after I had regained my -senses, "checks with other data I've received. It might be, of course, -that the whole thing is a fabrication of my enemies. In that case, -Trontar--" he looked at me earnestly--"you can be assured you'll not be -around to rejoice at or to profit from my downfall." - -"Of course, Sir," I said, quite as earnestly as he. - -"But we both know that you are only a genuine patriot," he said with a -hearty chuckle, a chuckle exactly like that of a Father Goodness--that -kindly old godfather who brings such nice presents to every Haldorian -child until they are six, and who on that last exciting visit brings, -and enthusiastically uses, a bundle of large and heavy whips to -demonstrate that no one can be trusted. Efficient teachers, the -Haldorians. - -"Just a genuine patriot," the Accountant repeated, "who has rendered -a considerable service to the Empire. Trontar," he said, all friendly -and intimate, "the Empire likes to reward well its faithful sons. What -would you most like to have or to do?" - -"To serve Haldoria, Sir!" I was back on my mental feet at last. - -He dropped his act then. He was, I think, just practicing anyway. We -had a short talk then, the kind in which one person is quickly and -efficiently pumped of everything he knows. After about ten minutes of -question and answers, the Accountant leaned back and studied my face -carefully. - -"Have you considered Officers' Selection Course, Trontar? I might be -able to help you a little in getting in." - -Officers' Selection Course was, I knew, Fighter Basic Course multiplied -in length and casualties. Less than 20 per cent graduate ... or escape. - - * * * * * - -"No, Sir," I said. "I wondered if I mightn't be of more value to -Haldoria in some way other than being in the combat services." So now -I'd said it and there was nothing to do but to go on. "Perhaps," I -ventured, "I might be of some help in the administrative services." - -The Accountant said nothing, his face was immobile, his hands still. -He'd learned his lessons well, once. - -"In fact," I said, deciding to go for broke, "with my knowledge of the -language and the customs here, I might be of most service to Haldoria -right here on this planet." - -"Had you guessed, by any chance, Trontar," the Accountant's voice was -neutrally soft, "that we won't be terraforming this world? And that we -may not even exploit the slavery proposition?" - -"I thought both those possibilities likely," I admitted. - -"But you know that in such a case we would have no administrative -services on this world? Thus you are, in fact, asking for a position -that wouldn't exist." The Accountant, without a change of position or -expression, somehow gave the impression of looming over me. - -"I thought," I said, trying to pick exactly the right words, and at the -same time all too conscious of a twitching muscle in my left eyelid, -"that there might be an analogous position, even so." - -The Accountant loomed higher. - -"If only," he said, "you hadn't come to us, Trontar. I mean that you, -in effect, sold your associates out to me. And I hold that once a -seller, always a seller. If I could be certain that you are and will be -perfectly loyal to the Haldorian Way...." - -I managed to quiet the twitching eyelid and to look perfectly loyal to -the Haldorian Way. - -"Yes, Trontar," the Accountant said decisively, "I'll buy it." - - * * * * * - -The results of my conference with the Accountant were not long in -appearing. - -The Haldorian troops were called in, along with the military governors -and the whole administrative body, and they all shipped out, somewhere -into the Big Out-There they all love so much. A surprised Earth was -informed that she was now a full-fledged and self-governing member of -the Haldorian Empire. The Terrans were not informed of the economic -factors behind this decision, though it might have been cheering for -them to know that their Spanglt Resistance Quotient indicated they -would make unsatisfactory slaves. Nor did the high cost of terraforming -the planet get mentioned. We Haldorians prefer the gratitude of others -towards us to be unalloyed with baser, or calculating, emotions. - -Not all the Haldorian personnel went out to fight or to administer. I -understand the space-freighter run to the battle fleet in the Slug -Galaxy gained many new deck-hands, among them one whose uniform showed -the marks where Trontar's stripes had perched. - -As for myself? - -Well, a relatively minor operation changed me into a black-skinned -Terran, though the surgeon/replacers could do nothing, ironically -enough in view of my new color, to increase my resistance to heat. I -remember those stirring days of combat sometimes, usually when I am -making my semi-annual flight between Churchill, Manitoba, and Tierra -Del Fuego. In fact, during those flights when I am practically alone -is the only time I have to reflect or remember, because on both of my -estates there is nothing but noise, children, and wives. - -But it's a good life when the snow is driving down out of a low gray -overcast, just like it does back on Haldor. It's a good life being -Resident Trader on Terra, especially when one is, on the side, a -trusted agent of the Accountant. It would be a perfect life--if the -Accountant hadn't been right about people being unable to stop selling -out. - -Right now I'm up to my neck in this Terran conspiracy to revolt against -the very light bonds Haldoria left on this planet. But how could I -resist the tempting offer the Terrans made me? The long sought-for good -life, it now occurs to me, isn't so much in escaping from something, -but in knowing when to stop. But that I know. I'm drawing the line -right now. I'll just tell that agent of the Slug Galaxy that I have no -intention of selling out both this solar system _and_ Haldoria! - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Success Story, by Earl Goodale - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SUCCESS STORY *** - -***** This file should be named 51805.txt or 51805.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/8/0/51805/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you -charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you -do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the -rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose -such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and -research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do -practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution. - - - -*** START: FULL LICENSE *** - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at -http://gutenberg.org/license). - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy -all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. -If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" -or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the -collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from -copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative -works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg -are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project -Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by -freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of -this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with -the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by -keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project -Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate -access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently -whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, -copied or distributed: - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived -from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is -posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied -and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees -or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work -with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the -work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 -through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional -terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked -to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the -permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), -you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a -copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon -request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other -form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided -that - -- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is - owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he - has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the - Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments - must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you - prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax - returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and - sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the - address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to - the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." - -- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or - destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium - and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of - Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any - money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days - of receipt of the work. - -- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set -forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from -both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. -To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 -and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent -permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at -809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official -page at http://pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To -SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any -particular state visit http://pglaf.org - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. -To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/51805.zip b/old/51805.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7155c58..0000000 --- a/old/51805.zip +++ /dev/null |
