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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..2b4e29a --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #61353 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/61353) diff --git a/old/61353-h.zip b/old/61353-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 8ffdb6e..0000000 --- a/old/61353-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/61353-h/61353-h.htm b/old/61353-h/61353-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index e06b5ed..0000000 --- a/old/61353-h/61353-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1470 +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 Saline Solution, by Keith Laumer. - </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 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } -.ph1 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } - -.ph2 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } -.ph2 { font-size: medium; margin: .83em auto; } - - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Saline Solution, by Keith Laumer - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: Saline Solution - -Author: Keith Laumer - -Release Date: February 9, 2020 [EBook #61353] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SALINE SOLUTION *** - - - - -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="356" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>SALINE SOLUTION</h1> - -<h2>BY KEITH LAUMER</h2> - -<p class="ph1">Blast you, Retief! Your violent ways<br /> -are the disgrace of Earth's diplomatic<br /> -corps—but your salty jokes are worse!</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Worlds of If Science Fiction, March 1963.<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="ph2">I</p> - -<p>Consul-General Magnan gingerly fingered the heavily rubber-banded sheaf -of dog-eared documents. "I haven't rushed into precipitate action on -this claim, Retief," he said. "The Consulate has grave responsibilities -here in the Belt. One must weigh all aspects of the situation, -consider the ramifications. What consequences would arise from a grant -of minerals rights on the planetoid to this claimant?"</p> - -<p>"The claim looked all right to me," Retief said. "Seventeen copies with -attachments. Why not process it? You've had it on your desk for a week."</p> - -<p>Magnan's eyebrows went up. "You've a personal interest in this claim, -Retief?"</p> - -<p>"Every day you wait is costing them money. That hulk they use for an -ore-carrier is in a parking orbit piling up demurrage."</p> - -<p>"I see you've become emotionally involved in the affairs of a group -of obscure miners. You haven't yet learned the true diplomat's -happy faculty of non-identification with specifics—or should I say -identification with non-specifics?"</p> - -<p>"They're not a wealthy outfit, you know. In fact, I understand this -claim is their sole asset—unless you want to count the ore-carrier."</p> - -<p>"The Consulate is not concerned with the internal financial problems of -the Sam's Last Chance Number Nine Mining Company."</p> - -<p>"Careful," Retief said. "You almost identified yourself with a specific -that time."</p> - -<p>"Hardly, my dear Retief," Magnan said blandly. "The implication is -mightier than the affidavit. You should study the records of the -giants of galactic diplomacy: Crodfoller, Passwyn, Spradley, Nitworth, -Sternwheeler, Rumpwhistle. The roll-call of those names rings like the -majestic tread of ... of...."</p> - -<p>"Dinosaurs?" Retief suggested.</p> - -<p>"An apt simile," Magnan nodded. "Those mighty figures, those armored -hides—"</p> - -<p>"Those tiny brains—"</p> - -<p>Magnan smiled sadly. "I see you're indulging your penchant for -distorted facetiae. Perhaps one day you'll learn their true worth."</p> - -<p>"I already have my suspicions."</p> - -<p>The intercom chimed. Miss Gumble's features appeared on the desk screen.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Leatherwell to see you, Mr. Magnan. He has no appointment—"</p> - -<p>Magnan's eyebrows went up. "Send Mr. Leatherwell right in." He looked -at Retief. "I had no idea Leatherwell was planning a call. I wonder -what he's after?" Magnan looked anxious. "He's an important figure in -Belt minerals circles. It's important to avoid arousing antagonism, -while maintaining non-commitment. You may as well stay. You might pick -up some valuable pointers technique-wise."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The door swung wide. Leatherwell strode into the room, his massive -paunch buckled into fashionable vests of turquoise velvet and hung with -the latest in fluorescent watch charms. He extended a large palm and -pumped Magnan's flaccid arm vigorously.</p> - -<p>"Ah, there, Mr. Consul-General. Good of you to receive me." He wiped -his hand absently on his thigh, eyeing Retief questioningly.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Retief, my Vice-Consul and Minerals Officer," Magnan said. "Do -take a chair, Mr. Leatherwell. In what capacity can I serve today?"</p> - -<p>"I am here, gentlemen," Leatherwell said, putting an immense yellow -briefcase on Magnan's desk and settling himself in a power rocker, -"on behalf of my company, General Minerals. General Minerals has long -been aware, gentlemen, of the austere conditions obtaining here in -the Belt, to which public servants like yourselves are subjected." -Leatherwell bobbed with the pitch of the rocker, smiling complacently -at Magnan. "General Minerals is more than a great industrial combine. -It is an organization with a heart." Leatherwell reached for his breast -pocket, missed, tried again. "How do you turn this damned thing off?" -he growled.</p> - -<p>Magnan half-rose, peering over Leatherwell's briefcase. "The switch -just there—on the arm."</p> - -<p>The executive fumbled. There was a <i>click</i>, and the chair subsided with -a sigh of compressed air.</p> - -<p>"That's better." Leatherwell drew out a long slip of blue paper.</p> - -<p>"To alleviate the boredom and brighten the lives of that hardy group -of Terrestrials laboring here on Ceres to bring free enterprise to -the Belt, General Minerals is presenting to the Consulate—on their -behalf—one hundred thousand credits for the construction of a Joy -Center, to be equipped with the latest and finest in recreational -equipment, including a Gourmet Model C banquet synthesizer, a -forty-foot sublimation chamber, a five thousand tape library—with a -number of choice items unobtainable in Boston—a twenty-foot Tri-D tank -and other amenities too numerous to mention." Leatherwell leaned back, -beaming expectantly.</p> - -<p>"Why, Mr. Leatherwell. We're overwhelmed, of course." Magnan smiled -dazedly past the briefcase. "But I wonder if it's quite proper...."</p> - -<p>"The gift is to the people, Mr. Consul. You merely accept on their -behalf."</p> - -<p>"I wonder if General Minerals realizes that the hardy Terrestrials -laboring on Ceres are limited to the Consular staff?" Retief said. "And -the staff consists of Mr. Magnan, Miss Gumble and myself."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Leatherwell is hardly interested in these details, Retief," -Magnan cut in. "A public-spirited offer indeed, sir. As Terrestrial -Consul—and on behalf of all Terrestrials here in the Belt—I accept -with a humble awareness of—"</p> - -<p>"Now, there was one other little matter." Leatherwell leaned forward -to open the briefcase, glancing over Magnan's littered desktop. He -extracted a bundle of papers, dropped them on the desk, then drew out a -heavy document and passed it across to Magnan.</p> - -<p>"Just a routine claim. I'd like to see it rushed through, as we have in -mind some loading operations in the vicinity next week."</p> - -<p>"Certainly Mr. Leatherwell."</p> - -<p>Magnan glanced at the papers, paused to read. He looked up. "Ah—"</p> - -<p>"Something the matter, Mr. Consul?" Leatherwell demanded.</p> - -<p>"It's just that—ah—I seem to recall—as a matter of fact...." Magnan -looked at Retief. Retief took the papers, looked over the top sheet.</p> - -<p>"95739-A. Sorry, Mr. Leatherwell. General Minerals has been -anticipated. We're processing a prior claim."</p> - -<p>"Prior claim?" Leatherwell barked. "You've issued the grant?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no indeed, Mr. Leatherwell," Magnan replied quickly. "The claim -hasn't yet been processed."</p> - -<p>"Then there's no difficulty," Leatherwell boomed. He glanced at his -finger watch. "If you don't mind, I'll wait and take the grant along -with me. I assume it will only take a minute or two to sign it and -affix seals and so on?"</p> - -<p>"The other claim was filed a full week ago—" Retief started.</p> - -<p>"Bah!" Leatherwell waved a hand impatiently. "These details can -be arranged." He fixed an eye on Magnan. "I'm sure all of us here -understand that it's in the public interest that minerals properties go -to responsible firms, with adequate capital for proper development."</p> - -<p>"Why, ah," Magnan said.</p> - -<p>"The Sam's Last Chance Number Nine Mining Company is a duly chartered -firm. Their claim is valid."</p> - -<p>"I know that hole-in-corner concern," Leatherwell snapped. -"Mere irresponsible opportunists. General Minerals has spent -millions—millions, I say—of the stockholders' funds in minerals -explorations. Are they to be balked in realizing a fair return on their -investment because these ... these ... adventures have stumbled on a -deposit? Not that the property is of any real value, of course," he -added. "Quite an ordinary bit of rock. But General Minerals would find -it convenient to consolidate its holdings."</p> - -<p>"There are plenty of other rocks floating around in the Belt. Why not—"</p> - -<p>"One moment, Retief," Magnan cut in. He looked across the desk at his -junior with a severe expression. "As Consul-General, I'm quite capable -of determining the relative merits of claims. As Mr. Leatherwell has -pointed out, it's in the public interest to consider the question in -depth."</p> - -<p>Leatherwell cleared his throat. "I might state at this time that -General Minerals is prepared to be generous in dealing with these -interlopers. I believe we would be prepared to go so far as to offer -them free title to certain GM holdings in exchange for their release -of any alleged rights to the property in question—merely to simplify -matters, of course."</p> - -<p>"That seems more than fair to me," Magnan glowed.</p> - -<p>"The Sam's people have a clear priority," Retief said. "I logged the -claim in last Friday."</p> - -<p>"They have far from a clear title." Leatherwell snapped. "And I can -assure you GM will contest their claim, if need be, to the Supreme -Court!"</p> - -<p>"Just what holdings did you have in mind offering them, Mr. -Leatherwell?" Magnan asked nervously.</p> - -<p>Leatherwell reached into his briefcase and drew out a paper.</p> - -<p>"2645-P," he read. "A quite massive body. Crustal material, I imagine. -It should satisfy these squatters' desire to own real estate in the -Belt."</p> - -<p>"I'll make a note of that," Magnan said, reaching for a pad.</p> - -<p>"That's a Bona Fide offer, Mr. Leatherwell?" Retief asked.</p> - -<p>"Certainly!"</p> - -<p>"I'll record it as such," Magnan said, scribbling.</p> - -<p>"And who knows?" Leatherwell said. "It may turn out to contain some -surprisingly rich finds."</p> - -<p>"And if they won't accept it?" Retief asked.</p> - -<p>"Then I daresay General Minerals will find a remedy in the courts, sir!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I hardly think that will be necessary," Magnan said.</p> - -<p>"Then there's another routine matter," Leatherwell said. He passed a -second document across to Magnan. "GM is requesting an injunction to -restrain these same parties from aggravated trespass. I'd appreciate -it if you'd push it through at once. There's a matter of a load of -illegally obtained ore involved, as well."</p> - -<p>"Certainly Mr. Leatherwell. I'll see to it myself."</p> - -<p>"No need for that. The papers are all drawn up. Our legal department -will vouch for their correctness. Just sign here." Leatherwell spread -out the paper and handed Magnan a pen.</p> - -<p>"Wouldn't it be a good idea to read that over first?" Retief said.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Leatherwell frowned impatiently. "You'll have adequate time to -familiarize yourself with the details later, Retief," Magnan snapped, -taking the pen. "No need to waste Mr. Leatherwell's valuable time." He -scratched a signature on the paper.</p> - -<p>Leatherwell rose, gathered up his papers from Magnan's desk, dumped -them into the briefcase. "Riff-raff, of course. Their kind has no -business in the Belt."</p> - -<p>Retief rose, crossed to the desk, and held out a hand. "I believe you -gathered in an official document along with your own, Mr. Leatherwell. -By error, of course."</p> - -<p>"What's that?" Leatherwell bridled. Retief smiled, waiting. Magnan -opened his mouth.</p> - -<p>"It was under your papers, Mr. Leatherwell," Retief said. "It's the -thick one, with the rubber bands."</p> - -<p>Leatherwell dug in his briefcase, produced the document. "Well, fancy -finding this here," he growled. He shoved the papers into Retief's hand.</p> - -<p>"You're a very observant young fellow." He closed the briefcase with a -snap. "I trust you'll have a bright future with the CDT."</p> - -<p>"Really, Retief," Magnan said reprovingly. "There was no need to -trouble Mr. Leatherwell."</p> - -<p>Leatherwell directed a sharp look at Retief and a bland one at Magnan. -"I trust you'll communicate the proposal to the interested parties. -Inasmuch as time is of the essence of the GM position, our offer can -only be held open until 0900 Greenwich, tomorrow. I'll call again at -that time to finalize matters. I trust there'll be no impediment to a -satisfactory settlement at that time. I should dislike to embark on -lengthy litigation."</p> - -<p>Magnan hurried around his desk to open the door. He turned back to fix -Retief with an exasperated frown.</p> - -<p>"A crass display of boorishness, Retief," he snapped. "You've -embarrassed a most influential member of the business community—and -for nothing more than a few miserable forms."</p> - -<p>"Those forms represent somebody's stake in what might be a valuable -property."</p> - -<p>"They're mere paper until they've been processed!"</p> - -<p>"Still—"</p> - -<p>"My responsibility is to the Public interest—not to a fly-by-night -group of prospectors."</p> - -<p>"They found it first."</p> - -<p>"Bah! A worthless rock. After Mr. Leatherwell's munificent gesture—"</p> - -<p>"Better rush his check through before he thinks it over and changes his -mind."</p> - -<p>"Good heavens!" Magnan clutched the check, buzzed for Miss Gumble. She -swept in, took Magnan's instructions and left. Retief waited while -Magnan glanced over the injunction, then nodded.</p> - -<p>"Quite in order. A person called Sam Mancziewicz appears to be the -principal. The address given is the Jolly Barge Hotel; that would be -that converted derelict ship in orbit 6942, I assume?"</p> - -<p>Retief nodded. "That's what they call it."</p> - -<p>"As for the ore-carrier, I'd best impound it, pending the settlement of -the matter." Magnan drew a form from a drawer, filled in blanks, shoved -the paper across the desk. He turned and consulted a wall chart. -"The hotel is nearby at the moment, as it happens. Take the Consulate -dinghy. If you get out there right away, you'll catch them before the -evening binge has developed fully."</p> - -<p>"I take it that's your diplomatic way of telling me that I'm now a -process server." Retief took the papers and tucked them into an inside -pocket.</p> - -<p>"One of the many functions a diplomat is called on to perform in a -small consular post. Excellent experience. I needn't warn you to be -circumspect. These miners are an unruly lot—especially when receiving -bad news."</p> - -<p>"Aren't we all." Retief rose. "I don't suppose there's any prospect -of your signing off that claim so that I can take a little good news -along, too?"</p> - -<p>"None whatever," Magnan snapped. "They've been made a most generous -offer. If that fails to satisfy them, they have recourse through the -courts."</p> - -<p>"Fighting a suit like that costs money. The Sam's Last Chance Mining -Company hasn't got any."</p> - -<p>"Need I remind you—"</p> - -<p>"I know. That's none of our concern."</p> - -<p>"On your way out," Magnan said as Retief turned to the door, "ask Miss -Gumble to bring in the Gourmet catalog from the Commercial Library. I -want to check on the specifications of the Model C Banquet synthesizer."</p> - -<p>An hour later, nine hundred miles from Ceres and fast approaching the -Jolly Barge Hotel, Retief keyed the skiff's transmitter.</p> - -<p>"CDT 347-89 calling Navy FP-VO-6."</p> - -<p>"Navy VO-6 here, CDT," a prompt voice came back. A flickering image -appeared on the small screen. "Oh, hi there, Mr. Retief. What brings -you out in the cold night air?"</p> - -<p>"Hello, Henry. I'm estimating the Jolly Barge in ten minutes. It looks -like a busy night ahead. I may be moving around a little. How about -keeping an eye on me? I'll be carrying a personnel beacon. Monitor it, -and if I switch it into high, come in fast. I can't afford to be held -up. I've got a big meeting in the morning."</p> - -<p>"Sure thing, Mr. Retief. We'll keep an eye open."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Retief dropped a ten-credit note on the bar, accepted a glass and -a squat bottle of black Marsberry brandy and turned to survey the -low-ceilinged room, a former hydroponics deck now known as the Jungle -Bar. Under the low ceiling, unpruned <i>Ipomoea batatas</i> and <i>Lathyrus -odoratus</i> vines sprawled in a tangle that filtered the light of the -S-spectrum glare panels to a muted green. A six-foot trideo screen, -salvaged from the wreck of a Concordiat transport, blared taped music -in the style of two centuries past. At the tables, heavy-shouldered men -in bright-dyed suit liners played cards, clanked bottles and shouted.</p> - -<p>Carrying the bottle and glass, Retief moved across to an empty chair at -one of the tables.</p> - -<p>"You gentlemen mind if I join you?"</p> - -<p>Five unshaven faces turned to study Retief's six foot three, his -close cut black hair, his non-commital gray coverall, the scars on -his knuckles. A redhead with a broken nose nodded. "Pull up a chair, -stranger."</p> - -<p>"You workin' a claim, pardner?"</p> - -<p>"Just looking around."</p> - -<p>"Try a shot of this rock juice."</p> - -<p>"Don't do it, Mister. He makes it himself."</p> - -<p>"Best rock juice this side of Luna."</p> - -<p>"Say, feller—"</p> - -<p>"The name's Retief."</p> - -<p>"Retief, you ever play Drift?"</p> - -<p>"Can't say that I did."</p> - -<p>"Don't gamble with Sam, pardner. He's the local champ."</p> - -<p>"How do you play it?"</p> - -<p>The black-browed miner who had suggested the game rolled back his -sleeve to reveal a sinewy forearm, put his elbow on the table.</p> - -<p>"You hook forefingers, and put a glass right up on top. The man that -takes a swallow wins. If the drink spills, it's drinks for the house."</p> - -<p>"A man don't often win out-right," the redhead said cheerfully. "But it -makes for plenty of drinkin'."</p> - -<p>Retief put his elbow on the table. "I'll give it a try."</p> - -<p>The two men hooked forefingers. The redhead poured a tumbler half full -of rock juice, placed it atop the two fists. "Okay, boys. Go!"</p> - -<p>The man named Sam gritted his teeth; his biceps tensed, knuckles grew -white. The glass trembled. Then it moved—toward Retief. Sam hunched -his shoulders, straining.</p> - -<p>"That's the stuff, Mister!"</p> - -<p>"What's the matter, Sam? You tired?"</p> - -<p>The glass moved steadily closer to Retief's face.</p> - -<p>"A hundred the new man makes it!"</p> - -<p>"Watch Sam! Any minute now...."</p> - -<p>The glass slowed, paused. Retief's wrist twitched and the glass crashed -to the table top. A shout went up. Sam leaned back with a sigh, -massaging his hand.</p> - -<p>"That's some arm you got, Mister," he said. "If you hadn't jumped just -then...."</p> - -<p>"I guess the drinks are on me," Retief said.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Two hours later Retief's Marsberry bottle stood empty on the table -beside half a dozen others.</p> - -<p>"We were lucky," Sam Mancziewicz was saying. "You figure the original -volume of the planet; say 245,000,000,000 cubic miles. The deBerry -theory calls for a collapsed-crystal core no more than a mile in -diameter. There's your odds."</p> - -<p>"And you believe you've found a fragment of this core?"</p> - -<p>"Damn right we have. Couple of million tons if it's an ounce. And at -three credits a ton delivered at Port Syrtis, we're set for life. About -time, too. Twenty years I've been in the Belt. Got two kids I haven't -seen for five years. Things are going to be different now."</p> - -<p>"Hey, Sam; tone it down. You don't have to broadcast to every claim -jumper in the Belt."</p> - -<p>"Our claim's on file at the Consulate," Sam said. "As soon as we get -the grant—"</p> - -<p>"When's that gonna be? We been waitin' a week now."</p> - -<p>"I've never seen any collapsed-crystal metal," Retief said. "I'd like -to take a look at it."</p> - -<p>"Sure. Come on, I'll run you over. It's about an hour's run. We'll take -our skiff. You want to go along, Willy?"</p> - -<p>"I got a bottle to go," Willy said. "See you in the morning."</p> - -<p>The two men descended in the lift to the boat bay, suited up and -strapped into the cramped boat. A bored attendant cycled the launch -doors, levered the release that propelled the skiff out and clear of -the Jolly Barge Hotel. Retief caught a glimpse of a tower of lights -spinning majestically against the black of space as the drive hurled -the tiny boat away.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph2">III</p> - -<p>Retief's feet sank ankle deep into the powdery surface that glinted -like snow in the glare of the distant sun.</p> - -<p>"It's funny stuff," Sam's voice sounded in his ear. "Under a gee -of gravity, you'd sink out of sight. The stuff cuts diamond like -butter—but temperature changes break it down into a powder. A lot of -it's used just like this, as an industrial abrasive. Easy to load, too. -Just drop a suction line, put on ambient pressure and start pumping."</p> - -<p>"And this whole rock is made of the same material?"</p> - -<p>"Sure is. We ran plenty of test bores and a full schedule of soundings. -I've got the reports back aboard <i>Gertie</i>—that's our lighter."</p> - -<p>"And you've already loaded a cargo here?"</p> - -<p>"Yep. We're running out of capital fast. I need to get that cargo to -port in a hurry—before the outfit goes into involuntary bankruptcy. -With this, that'd be a crime."</p> - -<p>"What do you know about General Minerals, Sam?"</p> - -<p>"You thinking of hiring on with them? Better read the fine print in -your contract before you sign. Sneakiest bunch this side of a burglar's -convention."</p> - -<p>"They own a chunk of rock known as 2645-P. Do you suppose we could find -it?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, you're buying it, hey? Sure, we can find it. You damn sure want to -look it over good if General Minerals is selling."</p> - -<p>Back aboard the skiff, Mancziewicz flipped the pages of the chart book, -consulted a table. "Yep, she's not too far off. Let's go see what GM's -trying to unload."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The skiff hovered two miles from the giant boulder known as 2645-P. -Retief and Mancziewicz looked it over at high magnification. "It don't -look like much, Retief," Sam said. "Let's go down and take a closer -look."</p> - -<p>The boat dropped rapidly toward the scarred surface of the tiny world, -a floating mountain, glaring black and white in the spotlight of the -sun. Sam frowned at his instrument panel.</p> - -<p>"That's funny. My ion counter is revving up. Looks like a drive trail, -not more than an hour or two old. Somebody's been here."</p> - -<p>The boat grounded. Retief and Sam got out. The stony surface was -littered with rock fragments varying in size from pebbles to great -slabs twenty feet long, tumbled in a loose bed of dust and sand. Retief -pushed off gently, drifted up to a vantage point atop an upended wedge -of rock. Sam joined him.</p> - -<p>"This is all igneous stuff," he said. "Not likely we'll find much here -that would pay the freight to Syrtis—unless maybe you lucked onto some -Bodean artifacts. They bring plenty."</p> - -<p>He flipped a binocular in place as he talked, scanned the riven -landscape. "Hey!" he said. "Over there!"</p> - -<p>Retief followed Sam's pointing glove. He studied the dark patch against -a smooth expanse of eroded rock.</p> - -<p>"A friend of mine came across a chunk of the old planetary surface two -years ago," Sam said thoughtfully. "Had a tunnel in it that'd been used -as a storage depot by the Bodeans. Took out over two ton of hardware. -Course, nobody's discovered how the stuff works yet, but it brings top -prices."</p> - -<p>"Looks like water erosion," Retief said.</p> - -<p>"Yep. This could be another piece of surface, all right. Could be a -cave over there. The Bodeans liked caves, too. Must have been some -war—but then, if it hadn't been, they wouldn't have tucked so much -stuff away underground where it could weather the planetary breakup."</p> - -<p>They descended, crossed the jumbled rocks with light, thirty-foot leaps.</p> - -<p>"It's a cave, all right," Sam said, stooping to peer into the five-foot -bore. Retief followed him inside.</p> - -<p>"Let's get some light in here." Mancziewicz flipped on a beam. It -glinted back from dull polished surfaces of Bodean synthetic. Sam's low -whistle sounded in Retief's headset.</p> - -<p>"That's funny," Retief said.</p> - -<p>"Funny, hell! It's hilarious. General Minerals trying to sell off a -worthless rock to a tenderfoot—and it's loaded with Bodean artifacts. -No telling how much is here; the tunnel seems to go quite a ways back."</p> - -<p>"That's not what I mean. Do you notice your suit warming up?"</p> - -<p>"Huh? Yeah, now that you mention it."</p> - -<p>Retief rapped with a gauntleted hand on the satiny black curve of the -nearest Bodean artifact. It clunked dully through the suit "That's not -metal," he said. "It's plastic."</p> - -<p>"There's something fishy here," Sam said. "This erosion; it looks more -like a heat beam."</p> - -<p>"Sam," Retief said, turning, "it appears to me somebody has gone to a -great deal of trouble to give a false impression here."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Sam snorted. "I told you they were a crafty bunch." He started out of -the cave, then paused, went to one knee to study the floor. "But maybe -they outsmarted themselves. Look here!"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" width="329" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Retief looked. Sam's beam reflected from a fused surface of milky -white, shot through with dirty yellow. He snapped a pointed instrument -in place on his gauntlet, dug at one of the yellow streaks. It furrowed -under the gouge, a particle adhering to the instrument. With his -left hand, Mancziewicz opened a pouch clipped to his belt, carefully -deposited the sample in a small orifice on the device in the pouch. He -flipped a key, squinted at a dial.</p> - -<p>"Atomic weight 197.2," he said. Retief turned down the audio volume on -his headset as Sam's laughter rang in his helmet.</p> - -<p>"Those clowns were out to stick you, Retief," he gasped, still -chuckling. "They salted the rock with a cave full of Bodean artifacts—"</p> - -<p>"Fake Bodean artifacts," Retief put in.</p> - -<p>"They planed off the rock so it would look like an old beach, and then -cut this cave with beamers. And they were boring through practically -solid gold!"</p> - -<p>"As good as that?"</p> - -<p>Mancziewicz flashed the light around. "This stuff will assay out at a -thousand credits a ton, easy. If the vein doesn't run to five thousand -tons, the beers are on me." He snapped off the light. "Let's get -moving, Retief. You want to sew this deal up before they get around to -taking another look at it."</p> - -<p>Back in the boat, Retief and Mancziewicz opened their helmets. "This -calls for a drink," Sam said, extracting a pressure flask from the map -case. "This rock's worth as much as mine, maybe more. You hit it lucky, -Retief. Congratulations." He thrust out a hand.</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid you've jumped to a couple of conclusions, Sam," Retief -said. "I'm not out here to buy mining properties."</p> - -<p>"You're not—then why—but man! Even if you didn't figure on -buying...." He trailed off as Retief shook his head, unzipped his suit -to reach to an inside pocket, take out a packet of folded papers.</p> - -<p>"In my capacity as Terrestrial Vice-Consul, I'm serving you with an -injunction restraining you from further exploitation of the body known -as 95739-A." He handed a paper across to Sam. "I also have here an -Order impounding the vessel <i>Gravel Gertie II</i>."</p> - -<p>Sam took the papers silently, sat looking at them. He looked up at -Retief. "Funny. When you beat me at Drift and then threw the game so -you wouldn't show me up in front of the boys, I figured you for a -right guy. I've been spilling my heart out to you like you were my old -grandma. An old-timer in the game like me." He dropped a hand, brought -it up with a Browning 2mm pointed at Retief's chest.</p> - -<p>"I could shoot you and dump you here with a slab over you, toss these -papers in the John and hightail it with the load...."</p> - -<p>"That wouldn't do you much good in the long run, Sam. Besides you're -not a criminal or an idiot."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Sam chewed his lip. "My claim is on file in the Consulate, legal and -proper. Maybe by now the grant's gone through."</p> - -<p>"Other people have their eye on your rock, Sam. Ever meet a fellow -called Leatherwell?"</p> - -<p>"General Minerals, huh? They haven't got a leg to stand on."</p> - -<p>"The last time I saw your claim, it was still lying in the pending -file. Just a bundle of paper until it's validated by the Consul. If -Leatherwell contests it ... well, his lawyers are on annual retainer. -How long could you keep the suit going, Sam?"</p> - -<p>Mancziewicz closed his helmet with a decisive snap, motioned to Retief -to do the same. He opened the hatch, sat with the gun on Retief.</p> - -<p>"Get out, paper-pusher." His voice sounded thin in the headphones. -"You'll get lonesome, maybe, but your suit will keep you alive a few -days. I'll tip somebody off before you lose too much weight. I'm going -back and see if I can't stir up a little action at the Consulate."</p> - -<p>Retief climbed out, walked off fifty yards. He watched as the skiff -kicked off in a quickly dispersed cloud of dust, dwindled rapidly away -to a bright speck that was lost against the stars. Then he extracted -the locator beacon from the pocket of his suit and thumbed the control.</p> - -<p>Twenty minutes later, aboard Navy FP-VO-6, Retief pulled off his -helmet. "Fast work, Henry. I've got a couple of calls to make. Put me -through to your HQ, will you? I want a word with Commander Hayle."</p> - -<p>The young naval officer raised the HQ, handed the mike to Retief.</p> - -<p>"Vice-Consul Retief here, Commander. I'd like you to intercept a skiff, -bound from my present position toward Ceres. There's a Mr. Mancziewicz -aboard. He's armed, but not dangerous. Collect him and see that he's -delivered to the Consulate at 0900 Greenwich tomorrow.</p> - -<p>"Next item: The Consulate has impounded an ore-carrier, <i>Gravel Gertie -II</i>. It's in a parking orbit ten miles off Ceres. I want it taken in -tow." Retief gave detailed instruction. Then he asked for a connection -through the Navy switchboard to the Consulate. Magnan's voice answered.</p> - -<p>"Retief speaking, Mr. Consul. I have some news that I think will -interest you—"</p> - -<p>"Where are you, Retief? What's wrong with the screen? Have you served -the injunction?"</p> - -<p>"I'm aboard the Navy patrol vessel. I've been out looking over the -situation, and I've made a surprising discovery. I don't think we're -going to have any trouble with the Sam's people; they've looked over -the body—2645-P—and it seems General Minerals has slipped up. There -appears to be a highly valuable deposit there."</p> - -<p>"Oh? What sort of deposit?"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Mancziewicz mentioned collapsed crystal metal," Retief said.</p> - -<p>"Well, most interesting." Magnan's voice sounded thoughtful.</p> - -<p>"Just thought you'd like to know. This should simplify the meeting in -the morning.</p> - -<p>"Yes," Magnan said. "Yes, indeed. I think this makes everything very -simple...."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>At 0845 Greenwich, Retief stepped into the outer office of the Consular -suite.</p> - -<p>"... fantastic configuration," Leatherwell's bass voice rumbled, -"covering literally acres. My xenogeologists are somewhat confused by -the formations. They had only a few hours to examine the site; but it's -clear from the extent of the surface indications that we have a very -rich find here. Very rich indeed. Beside it, 95739-A dwindles into -insignificance. Very fast thinking on your part, Mr. Consul, to bring -the matter to my attention."</p> - -<p>"Not at all, Mr. Leatherwell. After all—"</p> - -<p>"Our tentative theory is that the basic crystal fragment encountered -the core material at some time, and gathered it in. Since we had been -working on—that is, had landed to take samples on the other side of -the body, this anomalous deposit escaped our attention completely."</p> - -<p>Retief stepped into the room.</p> - -<p>"Good morning, gentlemen. Has Mr. Mancziewicz arrived?"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Mancziewicz is under restraint by the Navy. I've had a call that -he'd be escorted here."</p> - -<p>"Arrested, eh?" Leatherwell nodded. "I told you these people were an -irresponsible group. In a way it seems a pity to waste a piece of -property like 95739-A on them."</p> - -<p>"I understood General Minerals was claiming that rock," Retief said, -looking surprised.</p> - -<p>Leatherwell and Magnan exchanged glances. "Ah, GM has decided to drop -all claim to the body," Leatherwell said. "As always, we wish to -encourage enterprise on the part of the small operators. Let them keep -the property. After all GM has other deposits well worth exploiting." -He smiled complacently.</p> - -<p>"What about 2645-P? You've offered it to the Sam's group."</p> - -<p>"That offer is naturally withdrawn!" Leatherwell snapped.</p> - -<p>"I don't see how you can withdraw the offer," Retief said. "It's been -officially recorded. It's a Bona Fide contract, binding on General -Minerals, subject to—"</p> - -<p>"Out of the goodness of our corporate heart," Leatherwell roared, -"we've offered to relinquish our legitimate, rightful claim to asteroid -2645-P. And you have the infernal gall to spout legal technicalities! I -have half a mind to withdraw my offer to withdraw!"</p> - -<p>"Actually," Magnan put in, eyeing a corner of the room, "I'm not at all -sure I could turn up the record of the offer of 2645-P. I noted it down -on a bit of scratch paper—"</p> - -<p>"That's all right," Retief said, "I had my pocket recorder going. I -sealed the record and deposited it in the Consular archives."</p> - -<p>There was a clatter of feet outside. Miss Gumble appeared on the desk -screen. "There are a number of persons here—" she began.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The door banged open. Sam Mancziewicz stepped into the room, a sailor -tugging at each arm. He shook them loose, stared around the room. His -eyes lighted on Retief. "How did you get here...?"</p> - -<p>"Look here, Monkeywits or whatever your name is," Leatherwell began, -popping out of his chair.</p> - -<p>Mancziewicz whirled, seized the stout executive by the shirt front and -lifted him onto his tiptoes. "You double-barrelled copper-bottomed -oak-lined son-of-a—"</p> - -<p>"Don't spoil him, Sam," Retief said casually. "He's here to sign off -all rights—if any—to 95739-A. It's all yours—if you want it."</p> - -<p>Sam glared into Leatherwell's eyes. "That right?" he grated. -Leatherwell bobbed his head, his chins compressed into bulging folds.</p> - -<p>"However," Retief went on, "I wasn't at all sure you'd still be -agreeable, since he's made your company a binding offer of 2645-P in -return for clear title to 95739-A."</p> - -<p>Mancziewicz looked across at Retief with narrowed eyes. He released -Leatherwell, who slumped into his chair. Magnan darted around his desk -to minister to the magnate. Behind them, Retief closed one eye in a -broad wink at Mancziewicz.</p> - -<p>"... still, if Mr. Leatherwell will agree, in addition to guaranteeing -your title to 95739-A, to purchase your output at four credits a ton, -FOB his collection station—"</p> - -<p>Mancziewicz looked at Leatherwell. Leatherwell hesitated, then nodded. -"Agreed," he croaked.</p> - -<p>"... and to open his commissary and postal facilities to all -prospectors operating in the belt...."</p> - -<p>Leatherwell swallowed, eyes bulging, glanced at Mancziewicz's face. He -nodded. "Agreed."</p> - -<p>"... then I think I'd sign an agreement releasing him from his offer."</p> - -<p>Mancziewicz looked at Magnan.</p> - -<p>"You're the Terrestrial Consul-General," he said. "Is that the straight -goods?"</p> - -<p>Magnan nodded. "If Mr. Leatherwell agrees—"</p> - -<p>"He's already agreed," Retief said. "My pocket recorder, you know."</p> - -<p>"Put it in writing," Mancziewicz said.</p> - -<p>Magnan called in Miss Gumble. The others waited silently while Magnan -dictated. He signed the paper with a flourish, passed it across to -Mancziewicz. He read it, re-read it, then picked up the pen and signed. -Magnan impressed the Consular seal on the paper.</p> - -<p>"Now the grant," Retief said. Magnan signed the claim, added a seal. -Mancziewicz tucked the papers away in an inner pocket. He rose.</p> - -<p>"Well, gents, I guess maybe I had you figured wrong," he said. He -looked at Retief. "Uh ... got time for a drink?"</p> - -<p>"I shouldn't drink during office hours," Retief said. He rose. "So I'll -take the rest of the day off."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"I don't get it," Sam said signalling for refills. "What was the -routine with the injunction—and impounding <i>Gertie</i>? You could have -got hurt."</p> - -<p>"I don't think so," Retief said. "If you'd meant business with -that Browning, you'd have flipped the safety off. As for the -injunction—orders are orders."</p> - -<p>"I've been thinking," Sam said. "That gold deposit. It was a plant, -too, wasn't it?"</p> - -<p>"I'm just a bureaucrat, Sam. What would I know about gold?"</p> - -<p>"A double-salting job," Sam said. "I was supposed to spot the phoney -hardware—and then fall for the gold plant. When Leatherwell put his -proposition to me, I'd grab it. The gold was worth plenty, I'd figure, -and I couldn't afford a legal tangle with General Minerals. The lousy -skunk! And you must have spotted it and put it up to him."</p> - -<p>The bar-tender leaned across to Retief. "Wanted on the phone."</p> - -<p>In the booth, Magnan's agitated face stared a Retief.</p> - -<p>"Retief, Mr. Leatherwell's in a towering rage! The deposit on 2645-P; -it was merely a surface film, barely a few inches thick! The entire -deposit wouldn't fill an ore-boat." A horrified expression dawned on -Magnan's face. "Retief," he gasped, "what did you do with the impounded -ore-carrier?"</p> - -<p>"Well, let me see," Retief said. "According to the Space Navigation -Code, a body in orbit within twenty miles of any inhabited airless body -constitutes a navigational hazard. Accordingly, I had it towed away."</p> - -<p>"And the cargo?"</p> - -<p>"Well, accelerating all that mass was an expensive business, so to save -the taxpayer's credits, I had it dumped."</p> - -<p>"Where?" Magnan croaked.</p> - -<p>"On some unimportant asteroid—as specified by Regulations." He smiled -blandly at Magnan. Magnan looked back numbly.</p> - -<p>"But you said—"</p> - -<p>"All I said was that there was what looked like a valuable deposit on -2645-P. It turned out to be a bogus gold mine that somebody had rigged -up in a hurry. Curious, eh?"</p> - -<p>"But you told me—"</p> - -<p>"And you told Mr. Leatherwell. Indiscreet of you, Mr. Consul. That was -a privileged communication; classified information, official use only."</p> - -<p>"You led me to believe there was collapsed crystal!"</p> - -<p>"I said Sam had mentioned it. He told me his asteroid was made of the -stuff."</p> - -<p>Magnan swallowed hard, twice. "By the way," he said dully. "You were -right about the check. Half an hour ago Mr. Leatherwell tried to stop -payment. He was too late."</p> - -<p>"All in all, it's been a big day for Leatherwell," Retief said. -"Anything else?"</p> - -<p>"I hope not," Magnan said. "I sincerely hope not." He leaned close to -the screen. "You'll consider the entire affair as ... confidential? -There's no point in unduly complicating relationships."</p> - -<p>"Have no fear, Mr. Consul," Retief said cheerfully. "You won't find me -identifying with anything as specific as triple-salting an asteroid."</p> - -<p>Back at the table, Sam called for another bottle of rock juice.</p> - -<p>"That Drift's a pretty good game," Retief said. "But let me show you -one I learned out on Yill...."</p> - -<p class="ph2">[Transcriber's Note: No Section II heading in original text.]</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Saline Solution, by Keith Laumer - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SALINE SOLUTION *** - -***** This file should be named 61353-h.htm or 61353-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/3/5/61353/ - -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 print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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. 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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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: Saline Solution - -Author: Keith Laumer - -Release Date: February 9, 2020 [EBook #61353] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SALINE SOLUTION *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - SALINE SOLUTION - - BY KEITH LAUMER - - Blast you, Retief! Your violent ways - are the disgrace of Earth's diplomatic - corps--but your salty jokes are worse! - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Worlds of If Science Fiction, March 1963. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - I - -Consul-General Magnan gingerly fingered the heavily rubber-banded sheaf -of dog-eared documents. "I haven't rushed into precipitate action on -this claim, Retief," he said. "The Consulate has grave responsibilities -here in the Belt. One must weigh all aspects of the situation, -consider the ramifications. What consequences would arise from a grant -of minerals rights on the planetoid to this claimant?" - -"The claim looked all right to me," Retief said. "Seventeen copies with -attachments. Why not process it? You've had it on your desk for a week." - -Magnan's eyebrows went up. "You've a personal interest in this claim, -Retief?" - -"Every day you wait is costing them money. That hulk they use for an -ore-carrier is in a parking orbit piling up demurrage." - -"I see you've become emotionally involved in the affairs of a group -of obscure miners. You haven't yet learned the true diplomat's -happy faculty of non-identification with specifics--or should I say -identification with non-specifics?" - -"They're not a wealthy outfit, you know. In fact, I understand this -claim is their sole asset--unless you want to count the ore-carrier." - -"The Consulate is not concerned with the internal financial problems of -the Sam's Last Chance Number Nine Mining Company." - -"Careful," Retief said. "You almost identified yourself with a specific -that time." - -"Hardly, my dear Retief," Magnan said blandly. "The implication is -mightier than the affidavit. You should study the records of the -giants of galactic diplomacy: Crodfoller, Passwyn, Spradley, Nitworth, -Sternwheeler, Rumpwhistle. The roll-call of those names rings like the -majestic tread of ... of...." - -"Dinosaurs?" Retief suggested. - -"An apt simile," Magnan nodded. "Those mighty figures, those armored -hides--" - -"Those tiny brains--" - -Magnan smiled sadly. "I see you're indulging your penchant for -distorted facetiae. Perhaps one day you'll learn their true worth." - -"I already have my suspicions." - -The intercom chimed. Miss Gumble's features appeared on the desk screen. - -"Mr. Leatherwell to see you, Mr. Magnan. He has no appointment--" - -Magnan's eyebrows went up. "Send Mr. Leatherwell right in." He looked -at Retief. "I had no idea Leatherwell was planning a call. I wonder -what he's after?" Magnan looked anxious. "He's an important figure in -Belt minerals circles. It's important to avoid arousing antagonism, -while maintaining non-commitment. You may as well stay. You might pick -up some valuable pointers technique-wise." - - * * * * * - -The door swung wide. Leatherwell strode into the room, his massive -paunch buckled into fashionable vests of turquoise velvet and hung with -the latest in fluorescent watch charms. He extended a large palm and -pumped Magnan's flaccid arm vigorously. - -"Ah, there, Mr. Consul-General. Good of you to receive me." He wiped -his hand absently on his thigh, eyeing Retief questioningly. - -"Mr. Retief, my Vice-Consul and Minerals Officer," Magnan said. "Do -take a chair, Mr. Leatherwell. In what capacity can I serve today?" - -"I am here, gentlemen," Leatherwell said, putting an immense yellow -briefcase on Magnan's desk and settling himself in a power rocker, -"on behalf of my company, General Minerals. General Minerals has long -been aware, gentlemen, of the austere conditions obtaining here in -the Belt, to which public servants like yourselves are subjected." -Leatherwell bobbed with the pitch of the rocker, smiling complacently -at Magnan. "General Minerals is more than a great industrial combine. -It is an organization with a heart." Leatherwell reached for his breast -pocket, missed, tried again. "How do you turn this damned thing off?" -he growled. - -Magnan half-rose, peering over Leatherwell's briefcase. "The switch -just there--on the arm." - -The executive fumbled. There was a _click_, and the chair subsided with -a sigh of compressed air. - -"That's better." Leatherwell drew out a long slip of blue paper. - -"To alleviate the boredom and brighten the lives of that hardy group -of Terrestrials laboring here on Ceres to bring free enterprise to -the Belt, General Minerals is presenting to the Consulate--on their -behalf--one hundred thousand credits for the construction of a Joy -Center, to be equipped with the latest and finest in recreational -equipment, including a Gourmet Model C banquet synthesizer, a -forty-foot sublimation chamber, a five thousand tape library--with a -number of choice items unobtainable in Boston--a twenty-foot Tri-D tank -and other amenities too numerous to mention." Leatherwell leaned back, -beaming expectantly. - -"Why, Mr. Leatherwell. We're overwhelmed, of course." Magnan smiled -dazedly past the briefcase. "But I wonder if it's quite proper...." - -"The gift is to the people, Mr. Consul. You merely accept on their -behalf." - -"I wonder if General Minerals realizes that the hardy Terrestrials -laboring on Ceres are limited to the Consular staff?" Retief said. "And -the staff consists of Mr. Magnan, Miss Gumble and myself." - -"Mr. Leatherwell is hardly interested in these details, Retief," -Magnan cut in. "A public-spirited offer indeed, sir. As Terrestrial -Consul--and on behalf of all Terrestrials here in the Belt--I accept -with a humble awareness of--" - -"Now, there was one other little matter." Leatherwell leaned forward -to open the briefcase, glancing over Magnan's littered desktop. He -extracted a bundle of papers, dropped them on the desk, then drew out a -heavy document and passed it across to Magnan. - -"Just a routine claim. I'd like to see it rushed through, as we have in -mind some loading operations in the vicinity next week." - -"Certainly Mr. Leatherwell." - -Magnan glanced at the papers, paused to read. He looked up. "Ah--" - -"Something the matter, Mr. Consul?" Leatherwell demanded. - -"It's just that--ah--I seem to recall--as a matter of fact...." Magnan -looked at Retief. Retief took the papers, looked over the top sheet. - -"95739-A. Sorry, Mr. Leatherwell. General Minerals has been -anticipated. We're processing a prior claim." - -"Prior claim?" Leatherwell barked. "You've issued the grant?" - -"Oh, no indeed, Mr. Leatherwell," Magnan replied quickly. "The claim -hasn't yet been processed." - -"Then there's no difficulty," Leatherwell boomed. He glanced at his -finger watch. "If you don't mind, I'll wait and take the grant along -with me. I assume it will only take a minute or two to sign it and -affix seals and so on?" - -"The other claim was filed a full week ago--" Retief started. - -"Bah!" Leatherwell waved a hand impatiently. "These details can -be arranged." He fixed an eye on Magnan. "I'm sure all of us here -understand that it's in the public interest that minerals properties go -to responsible firms, with adequate capital for proper development." - -"Why, ah," Magnan said. - -"The Sam's Last Chance Number Nine Mining Company is a duly chartered -firm. Their claim is valid." - -"I know that hole-in-corner concern," Leatherwell snapped. -"Mere irresponsible opportunists. General Minerals has spent -millions--millions, I say--of the stockholders' funds in minerals -explorations. Are they to be balked in realizing a fair return on their -investment because these ... these ... adventures have stumbled on a -deposit? Not that the property is of any real value, of course," he -added. "Quite an ordinary bit of rock. But General Minerals would find -it convenient to consolidate its holdings." - -"There are plenty of other rocks floating around in the Belt. Why not--" - -"One moment, Retief," Magnan cut in. He looked across the desk at his -junior with a severe expression. "As Consul-General, I'm quite capable -of determining the relative merits of claims. As Mr. Leatherwell has -pointed out, it's in the public interest to consider the question in -depth." - -Leatherwell cleared his throat. "I might state at this time that -General Minerals is prepared to be generous in dealing with these -interlopers. I believe we would be prepared to go so far as to offer -them free title to certain GM holdings in exchange for their release -of any alleged rights to the property in question--merely to simplify -matters, of course." - -"That seems more than fair to me," Magnan glowed. - -"The Sam's people have a clear priority," Retief said. "I logged the -claim in last Friday." - -"They have far from a clear title." Leatherwell snapped. "And I can -assure you GM will contest their claim, if need be, to the Supreme -Court!" - -"Just what holdings did you have in mind offering them, Mr. -Leatherwell?" Magnan asked nervously. - -Leatherwell reached into his briefcase and drew out a paper. - -"2645-P," he read. "A quite massive body. Crustal material, I imagine. -It should satisfy these squatters' desire to own real estate in the -Belt." - -"I'll make a note of that," Magnan said, reaching for a pad. - -"That's a Bona Fide offer, Mr. Leatherwell?" Retief asked. - -"Certainly!" - -"I'll record it as such," Magnan said, scribbling. - -"And who knows?" Leatherwell said. "It may turn out to contain some -surprisingly rich finds." - -"And if they won't accept it?" Retief asked. - -"Then I daresay General Minerals will find a remedy in the courts, sir!" - -"Oh, I hardly think that will be necessary," Magnan said. - -"Then there's another routine matter," Leatherwell said. He passed a -second document across to Magnan. "GM is requesting an injunction to -restrain these same parties from aggravated trespass. I'd appreciate -it if you'd push it through at once. There's a matter of a load of -illegally obtained ore involved, as well." - -"Certainly Mr. Leatherwell. I'll see to it myself." - -"No need for that. The papers are all drawn up. Our legal department -will vouch for their correctness. Just sign here." Leatherwell spread -out the paper and handed Magnan a pen. - -"Wouldn't it be a good idea to read that over first?" Retief said. - - * * * * * - -Leatherwell frowned impatiently. "You'll have adequate time to -familiarize yourself with the details later, Retief," Magnan snapped, -taking the pen. "No need to waste Mr. Leatherwell's valuable time." He -scratched a signature on the paper. - -Leatherwell rose, gathered up his papers from Magnan's desk, dumped -them into the briefcase. "Riff-raff, of course. Their kind has no -business in the Belt." - -Retief rose, crossed to the desk, and held out a hand. "I believe you -gathered in an official document along with your own, Mr. Leatherwell. -By error, of course." - -"What's that?" Leatherwell bridled. Retief smiled, waiting. Magnan -opened his mouth. - -"It was under your papers, Mr. Leatherwell," Retief said. "It's the -thick one, with the rubber bands." - -Leatherwell dug in his briefcase, produced the document. "Well, fancy -finding this here," he growled. He shoved the papers into Retief's hand. - -"You're a very observant young fellow." He closed the briefcase with a -snap. "I trust you'll have a bright future with the CDT." - -"Really, Retief," Magnan said reprovingly. "There was no need to -trouble Mr. Leatherwell." - -Leatherwell directed a sharp look at Retief and a bland one at Magnan. -"I trust you'll communicate the proposal to the interested parties. -Inasmuch as time is of the essence of the GM position, our offer can -only be held open until 0900 Greenwich, tomorrow. I'll call again at -that time to finalize matters. I trust there'll be no impediment to a -satisfactory settlement at that time. I should dislike to embark on -lengthy litigation." - -Magnan hurried around his desk to open the door. He turned back to fix -Retief with an exasperated frown. - -"A crass display of boorishness, Retief," he snapped. "You've -embarrassed a most influential member of the business community--and -for nothing more than a few miserable forms." - -"Those forms represent somebody's stake in what might be a valuable -property." - -"They're mere paper until they've been processed!" - -"Still--" - -"My responsibility is to the Public interest--not to a fly-by-night -group of prospectors." - -"They found it first." - -"Bah! A worthless rock. After Mr. Leatherwell's munificent gesture--" - -"Better rush his check through before he thinks it over and changes his -mind." - -"Good heavens!" Magnan clutched the check, buzzed for Miss Gumble. She -swept in, took Magnan's instructions and left. Retief waited while -Magnan glanced over the injunction, then nodded. - -"Quite in order. A person called Sam Mancziewicz appears to be the -principal. The address given is the Jolly Barge Hotel; that would be -that converted derelict ship in orbit 6942, I assume?" - -Retief nodded. "That's what they call it." - -"As for the ore-carrier, I'd best impound it, pending the settlement of -the matter." Magnan drew a form from a drawer, filled in blanks, shoved -the paper across the desk. He turned and consulted a wall chart. -"The hotel is nearby at the moment, as it happens. Take the Consulate -dinghy. If you get out there right away, you'll catch them before the -evening binge has developed fully." - -"I take it that's your diplomatic way of telling me that I'm now a -process server." Retief took the papers and tucked them into an inside -pocket. - -"One of the many functions a diplomat is called on to perform in a -small consular post. Excellent experience. I needn't warn you to be -circumspect. These miners are an unruly lot--especially when receiving -bad news." - -"Aren't we all." Retief rose. "I don't suppose there's any prospect -of your signing off that claim so that I can take a little good news -along, too?" - -"None whatever," Magnan snapped. "They've been made a most generous -offer. If that fails to satisfy them, they have recourse through the -courts." - -"Fighting a suit like that costs money. The Sam's Last Chance Mining -Company hasn't got any." - -"Need I remind you--" - -"I know. That's none of our concern." - -"On your way out," Magnan said as Retief turned to the door, "ask Miss -Gumble to bring in the Gourmet catalog from the Commercial Library. I -want to check on the specifications of the Model C Banquet synthesizer." - -An hour later, nine hundred miles from Ceres and fast approaching the -Jolly Barge Hotel, Retief keyed the skiff's transmitter. - -"CDT 347-89 calling Navy FP-VO-6." - -"Navy VO-6 here, CDT," a prompt voice came back. A flickering image -appeared on the small screen. "Oh, hi there, Mr. Retief. What brings -you out in the cold night air?" - -"Hello, Henry. I'm estimating the Jolly Barge in ten minutes. It looks -like a busy night ahead. I may be moving around a little. How about -keeping an eye on me? I'll be carrying a personnel beacon. Monitor it, -and if I switch it into high, come in fast. I can't afford to be held -up. I've got a big meeting in the morning." - -"Sure thing, Mr. Retief. We'll keep an eye open." - - * * * * * - -Retief dropped a ten-credit note on the bar, accepted a glass and -a squat bottle of black Marsberry brandy and turned to survey the -low-ceilinged room, a former hydroponics deck now known as the Jungle -Bar. Under the low ceiling, unpruned _Ipomoea batatas_ and _Lathyrus -odoratus_ vines sprawled in a tangle that filtered the light of the -S-spectrum glare panels to a muted green. A six-foot trideo screen, -salvaged from the wreck of a Concordiat transport, blared taped music -in the style of two centuries past. At the tables, heavy-shouldered men -in bright-dyed suit liners played cards, clanked bottles and shouted. - -Carrying the bottle and glass, Retief moved across to an empty chair at -one of the tables. - -"You gentlemen mind if I join you?" - -Five unshaven faces turned to study Retief's six foot three, his -close cut black hair, his non-commital gray coverall, the scars on -his knuckles. A redhead with a broken nose nodded. "Pull up a chair, -stranger." - -"You workin' a claim, pardner?" - -"Just looking around." - -"Try a shot of this rock juice." - -"Don't do it, Mister. He makes it himself." - -"Best rock juice this side of Luna." - -"Say, feller--" - -"The name's Retief." - -"Retief, you ever play Drift?" - -"Can't say that I did." - -"Don't gamble with Sam, pardner. He's the local champ." - -"How do you play it?" - -The black-browed miner who had suggested the game rolled back his -sleeve to reveal a sinewy forearm, put his elbow on the table. - -"You hook forefingers, and put a glass right up on top. The man that -takes a swallow wins. If the drink spills, it's drinks for the house." - -"A man don't often win out-right," the redhead said cheerfully. "But it -makes for plenty of drinkin'." - -Retief put his elbow on the table. "I'll give it a try." - -The two men hooked forefingers. The redhead poured a tumbler half full -of rock juice, placed it atop the two fists. "Okay, boys. Go!" - -The man named Sam gritted his teeth; his biceps tensed, knuckles grew -white. The glass trembled. Then it moved--toward Retief. Sam hunched -his shoulders, straining. - -"That's the stuff, Mister!" - -"What's the matter, Sam? You tired?" - -The glass moved steadily closer to Retief's face. - -"A hundred the new man makes it!" - -"Watch Sam! Any minute now...." - -The glass slowed, paused. Retief's wrist twitched and the glass crashed -to the table top. A shout went up. Sam leaned back with a sigh, -massaging his hand. - -"That's some arm you got, Mister," he said. "If you hadn't jumped just -then...." - -"I guess the drinks are on me," Retief said. - - * * * * * - -Two hours later Retief's Marsberry bottle stood empty on the table -beside half a dozen others. - -"We were lucky," Sam Mancziewicz was saying. "You figure the original -volume of the planet; say 245,000,000,000 cubic miles. The deBerry -theory calls for a collapsed-crystal core no more than a mile in -diameter. There's your odds." - -"And you believe you've found a fragment of this core?" - -"Damn right we have. Couple of million tons if it's an ounce. And at -three credits a ton delivered at Port Syrtis, we're set for life. About -time, too. Twenty years I've been in the Belt. Got two kids I haven't -seen for five years. Things are going to be different now." - -"Hey, Sam; tone it down. You don't have to broadcast to every claim -jumper in the Belt." - -"Our claim's on file at the Consulate," Sam said. "As soon as we get -the grant--" - -"When's that gonna be? We been waitin' a week now." - -"I've never seen any collapsed-crystal metal," Retief said. "I'd like -to take a look at it." - -"Sure. Come on, I'll run you over. It's about an hour's run. We'll take -our skiff. You want to go along, Willy?" - -"I got a bottle to go," Willy said. "See you in the morning." - -The two men descended in the lift to the boat bay, suited up and -strapped into the cramped boat. A bored attendant cycled the launch -doors, levered the release that propelled the skiff out and clear of -the Jolly Barge Hotel. Retief caught a glimpse of a tower of lights -spinning majestically against the black of space as the drive hurled -the tiny boat away. - - - III - -Retief's feet sank ankle deep into the powdery surface that glinted -like snow in the glare of the distant sun. - -"It's funny stuff," Sam's voice sounded in his ear. "Under a gee -of gravity, you'd sink out of sight. The stuff cuts diamond like -butter--but temperature changes break it down into a powder. A lot of -it's used just like this, as an industrial abrasive. Easy to load, too. -Just drop a suction line, put on ambient pressure and start pumping." - -"And this whole rock is made of the same material?" - -"Sure is. We ran plenty of test bores and a full schedule of soundings. -I've got the reports back aboard _Gertie_--that's our lighter." - -"And you've already loaded a cargo here?" - -"Yep. We're running out of capital fast. I need to get that cargo to -port in a hurry--before the outfit goes into involuntary bankruptcy. -With this, that'd be a crime." - -"What do you know about General Minerals, Sam?" - -"You thinking of hiring on with them? Better read the fine print in -your contract before you sign. Sneakiest bunch this side of a burglar's -convention." - -"They own a chunk of rock known as 2645-P. Do you suppose we could find -it?" - -"Oh, you're buying it, hey? Sure, we can find it. You damn sure want to -look it over good if General Minerals is selling." - -Back aboard the skiff, Mancziewicz flipped the pages of the chart book, -consulted a table. "Yep, she's not too far off. Let's go see what GM's -trying to unload." - - * * * * * - -The skiff hovered two miles from the giant boulder known as 2645-P. -Retief and Mancziewicz looked it over at high magnification. "It don't -look like much, Retief," Sam said. "Let's go down and take a closer -look." - -The boat dropped rapidly toward the scarred surface of the tiny world, -a floating mountain, glaring black and white in the spotlight of the -sun. Sam frowned at his instrument panel. - -"That's funny. My ion counter is revving up. Looks like a drive trail, -not more than an hour or two old. Somebody's been here." - -The boat grounded. Retief and Sam got out. The stony surface was -littered with rock fragments varying in size from pebbles to great -slabs twenty feet long, tumbled in a loose bed of dust and sand. Retief -pushed off gently, drifted up to a vantage point atop an upended wedge -of rock. Sam joined him. - -"This is all igneous stuff," he said. "Not likely we'll find much here -that would pay the freight to Syrtis--unless maybe you lucked onto some -Bodean artifacts. They bring plenty." - -He flipped a binocular in place as he talked, scanned the riven -landscape. "Hey!" he said. "Over there!" - -Retief followed Sam's pointing glove. He studied the dark patch against -a smooth expanse of eroded rock. - -"A friend of mine came across a chunk of the old planetary surface two -years ago," Sam said thoughtfully. "Had a tunnel in it that'd been used -as a storage depot by the Bodeans. Took out over two ton of hardware. -Course, nobody's discovered how the stuff works yet, but it brings top -prices." - -"Looks like water erosion," Retief said. - -"Yep. This could be another piece of surface, all right. Could be a -cave over there. The Bodeans liked caves, too. Must have been some -war--but then, if it hadn't been, they wouldn't have tucked so much -stuff away underground where it could weather the planetary breakup." - -They descended, crossed the jumbled rocks with light, thirty-foot leaps. - -"It's a cave, all right," Sam said, stooping to peer into the five-foot -bore. Retief followed him inside. - -"Let's get some light in here." Mancziewicz flipped on a beam. It -glinted back from dull polished surfaces of Bodean synthetic. Sam's low -whistle sounded in Retief's headset. - -"That's funny," Retief said. - -"Funny, hell! It's hilarious. General Minerals trying to sell off a -worthless rock to a tenderfoot--and it's loaded with Bodean artifacts. -No telling how much is here; the tunnel seems to go quite a ways back." - -"That's not what I mean. Do you notice your suit warming up?" - -"Huh? Yeah, now that you mention it." - -Retief rapped with a gauntleted hand on the satiny black curve of the -nearest Bodean artifact. It clunked dully through the suit "That's not -metal," he said. "It's plastic." - -"There's something fishy here," Sam said. "This erosion; it looks more -like a heat beam." - -"Sam," Retief said, turning, "it appears to me somebody has gone to a -great deal of trouble to give a false impression here." - - * * * * * - -Sam snorted. "I told you they were a crafty bunch." He started out of -the cave, then paused, went to one knee to study the floor. "But maybe -they outsmarted themselves. Look here!" - -Retief looked. Sam's beam reflected from a fused surface of milky -white, shot through with dirty yellow. He snapped a pointed instrument -in place on his gauntlet, dug at one of the yellow streaks. It furrowed -under the gouge, a particle adhering to the instrument. With his -left hand, Mancziewicz opened a pouch clipped to his belt, carefully -deposited the sample in a small orifice on the device in the pouch. He -flipped a key, squinted at a dial. - -"Atomic weight 197.2," he said. Retief turned down the audio volume on -his headset as Sam's laughter rang in his helmet. - -"Those clowns were out to stick you, Retief," he gasped, still -chuckling. "They salted the rock with a cave full of Bodean artifacts--" - -"Fake Bodean artifacts," Retief put in. - -"They planed off the rock so it would look like an old beach, and then -cut this cave with beamers. And they were boring through practically -solid gold!" - -"As good as that?" - -Mancziewicz flashed the light around. "This stuff will assay out at a -thousand credits a ton, easy. If the vein doesn't run to five thousand -tons, the beers are on me." He snapped off the light. "Let's get -moving, Retief. You want to sew this deal up before they get around to -taking another look at it." - -Back in the boat, Retief and Mancziewicz opened their helmets. "This -calls for a drink," Sam said, extracting a pressure flask from the map -case. "This rock's worth as much as mine, maybe more. You hit it lucky, -Retief. Congratulations." He thrust out a hand. - -"I'm afraid you've jumped to a couple of conclusions, Sam," Retief -said. "I'm not out here to buy mining properties." - -"You're not--then why--but man! Even if you didn't figure on -buying...." He trailed off as Retief shook his head, unzipped his suit -to reach to an inside pocket, take out a packet of folded papers. - -"In my capacity as Terrestrial Vice-Consul, I'm serving you with an -injunction restraining you from further exploitation of the body known -as 95739-A." He handed a paper across to Sam. "I also have here an -Order impounding the vessel _Gravel Gertie II_." - -Sam took the papers silently, sat looking at them. He looked up at -Retief. "Funny. When you beat me at Drift and then threw the game so -you wouldn't show me up in front of the boys, I figured you for a -right guy. I've been spilling my heart out to you like you were my old -grandma. An old-timer in the game like me." He dropped a hand, brought -it up with a Browning 2mm pointed at Retief's chest. - -"I could shoot you and dump you here with a slab over you, toss these -papers in the John and hightail it with the load...." - -"That wouldn't do you much good in the long run, Sam. Besides you're -not a criminal or an idiot." - - * * * * * - -Sam chewed his lip. "My claim is on file in the Consulate, legal and -proper. Maybe by now the grant's gone through." - -"Other people have their eye on your rock, Sam. Ever meet a fellow -called Leatherwell?" - -"General Minerals, huh? They haven't got a leg to stand on." - -"The last time I saw your claim, it was still lying in the pending -file. Just a bundle of paper until it's validated by the Consul. If -Leatherwell contests it ... well, his lawyers are on annual retainer. -How long could you keep the suit going, Sam?" - -Mancziewicz closed his helmet with a decisive snap, motioned to Retief -to do the same. He opened the hatch, sat with the gun on Retief. - -"Get out, paper-pusher." His voice sounded thin in the headphones. -"You'll get lonesome, maybe, but your suit will keep you alive a few -days. I'll tip somebody off before you lose too much weight. I'm going -back and see if I can't stir up a little action at the Consulate." - -Retief climbed out, walked off fifty yards. He watched as the skiff -kicked off in a quickly dispersed cloud of dust, dwindled rapidly away -to a bright speck that was lost against the stars. Then he extracted -the locator beacon from the pocket of his suit and thumbed the control. - -Twenty minutes later, aboard Navy FP-VO-6, Retief pulled off his -helmet. "Fast work, Henry. I've got a couple of calls to make. Put me -through to your HQ, will you? I want a word with Commander Hayle." - -The young naval officer raised the HQ, handed the mike to Retief. - -"Vice-Consul Retief here, Commander. I'd like you to intercept a skiff, -bound from my present position toward Ceres. There's a Mr. Mancziewicz -aboard. He's armed, but not dangerous. Collect him and see that he's -delivered to the Consulate at 0900 Greenwich tomorrow. - -"Next item: The Consulate has impounded an ore-carrier, _Gravel Gertie -II_. It's in a parking orbit ten miles off Ceres. I want it taken in -tow." Retief gave detailed instruction. Then he asked for a connection -through the Navy switchboard to the Consulate. Magnan's voice answered. - -"Retief speaking, Mr. Consul. I have some news that I think will -interest you--" - -"Where are you, Retief? What's wrong with the screen? Have you served -the injunction?" - -"I'm aboard the Navy patrol vessel. I've been out looking over the -situation, and I've made a surprising discovery. I don't think we're -going to have any trouble with the Sam's people; they've looked over -the body--2645-P--and it seems General Minerals has slipped up. There -appears to be a highly valuable deposit there." - -"Oh? What sort of deposit?" - -"Mr. Mancziewicz mentioned collapsed crystal metal," Retief said. - -"Well, most interesting." Magnan's voice sounded thoughtful. - -"Just thought you'd like to know. This should simplify the meeting in -the morning. - -"Yes," Magnan said. "Yes, indeed. I think this makes everything very -simple...." - - * * * * * - -At 0845 Greenwich, Retief stepped into the outer office of the Consular -suite. - -"... fantastic configuration," Leatherwell's bass voice rumbled, -"covering literally acres. My xenogeologists are somewhat confused by -the formations. They had only a few hours to examine the site; but it's -clear from the extent of the surface indications that we have a very -rich find here. Very rich indeed. Beside it, 95739-A dwindles into -insignificance. Very fast thinking on your part, Mr. Consul, to bring -the matter to my attention." - -"Not at all, Mr. Leatherwell. After all--" - -"Our tentative theory is that the basic crystal fragment encountered -the core material at some time, and gathered it in. Since we had been -working on--that is, had landed to take samples on the other side of -the body, this anomalous deposit escaped our attention completely." - -Retief stepped into the room. - -"Good morning, gentlemen. Has Mr. Mancziewicz arrived?" - -"Mr. Mancziewicz is under restraint by the Navy. I've had a call that -he'd be escorted here." - -"Arrested, eh?" Leatherwell nodded. "I told you these people were an -irresponsible group. In a way it seems a pity to waste a piece of -property like 95739-A on them." - -"I understood General Minerals was claiming that rock," Retief said, -looking surprised. - -Leatherwell and Magnan exchanged glances. "Ah, GM has decided to drop -all claim to the body," Leatherwell said. "As always, we wish to -encourage enterprise on the part of the small operators. Let them keep -the property. After all GM has other deposits well worth exploiting." -He smiled complacently. - -"What about 2645-P? You've offered it to the Sam's group." - -"That offer is naturally withdrawn!" Leatherwell snapped. - -"I don't see how you can withdraw the offer," Retief said. "It's been -officially recorded. It's a Bona Fide contract, binding on General -Minerals, subject to--" - -"Out of the goodness of our corporate heart," Leatherwell roared, -"we've offered to relinquish our legitimate, rightful claim to asteroid -2645-P. And you have the infernal gall to spout legal technicalities! I -have half a mind to withdraw my offer to withdraw!" - -"Actually," Magnan put in, eyeing a corner of the room, "I'm not at all -sure I could turn up the record of the offer of 2645-P. I noted it down -on a bit of scratch paper--" - -"That's all right," Retief said, "I had my pocket recorder going. I -sealed the record and deposited it in the Consular archives." - -There was a clatter of feet outside. Miss Gumble appeared on the desk -screen. "There are a number of persons here--" she began. - - * * * * * - -The door banged open. Sam Mancziewicz stepped into the room, a sailor -tugging at each arm. He shook them loose, stared around the room. His -eyes lighted on Retief. "How did you get here...?" - -"Look here, Monkeywits or whatever your name is," Leatherwell began, -popping out of his chair. - -Mancziewicz whirled, seized the stout executive by the shirt front and -lifted him onto his tiptoes. "You double-barrelled copper-bottomed -oak-lined son-of-a--" - -"Don't spoil him, Sam," Retief said casually. "He's here to sign off -all rights--if any--to 95739-A. It's all yours--if you want it." - -Sam glared into Leatherwell's eyes. "That right?" he grated. -Leatherwell bobbed his head, his chins compressed into bulging folds. - -"However," Retief went on, "I wasn't at all sure you'd still be -agreeable, since he's made your company a binding offer of 2645-P in -return for clear title to 95739-A." - -Mancziewicz looked across at Retief with narrowed eyes. He released -Leatherwell, who slumped into his chair. Magnan darted around his desk -to minister to the magnate. Behind them, Retief closed one eye in a -broad wink at Mancziewicz. - -"... still, if Mr. Leatherwell will agree, in addition to guaranteeing -your title to 95739-A, to purchase your output at four credits a ton, -FOB his collection station--" - -Mancziewicz looked at Leatherwell. Leatherwell hesitated, then nodded. -"Agreed," he croaked. - -"... and to open his commissary and postal facilities to all -prospectors operating in the belt...." - -Leatherwell swallowed, eyes bulging, glanced at Mancziewicz's face. He -nodded. "Agreed." - -"... then I think I'd sign an agreement releasing him from his offer." - -Mancziewicz looked at Magnan. - -"You're the Terrestrial Consul-General," he said. "Is that the straight -goods?" - -Magnan nodded. "If Mr. Leatherwell agrees--" - -"He's already agreed," Retief said. "My pocket recorder, you know." - -"Put it in writing," Mancziewicz said. - -Magnan called in Miss Gumble. The others waited silently while Magnan -dictated. He signed the paper with a flourish, passed it across to -Mancziewicz. He read it, re-read it, then picked up the pen and signed. -Magnan impressed the Consular seal on the paper. - -"Now the grant," Retief said. Magnan signed the claim, added a seal. -Mancziewicz tucked the papers away in an inner pocket. He rose. - -"Well, gents, I guess maybe I had you figured wrong," he said. He -looked at Retief. "Uh ... got time for a drink?" - -"I shouldn't drink during office hours," Retief said. He rose. "So I'll -take the rest of the day off." - - * * * * * - -"I don't get it," Sam said signalling for refills. "What was the -routine with the injunction--and impounding _Gertie_? You could have -got hurt." - -"I don't think so," Retief said. "If you'd meant business with -that Browning, you'd have flipped the safety off. As for the -injunction--orders are orders." - -"I've been thinking," Sam said. "That gold deposit. It was a plant, -too, wasn't it?" - -"I'm just a bureaucrat, Sam. What would I know about gold?" - -"A double-salting job," Sam said. "I was supposed to spot the phoney -hardware--and then fall for the gold plant. When Leatherwell put his -proposition to me, I'd grab it. The gold was worth plenty, I'd figure, -and I couldn't afford a legal tangle with General Minerals. The lousy -skunk! And you must have spotted it and put it up to him." - -The bar-tender leaned across to Retief. "Wanted on the phone." - -In the booth, Magnan's agitated face stared a Retief. - -"Retief, Mr. Leatherwell's in a towering rage! The deposit on 2645-P; -it was merely a surface film, barely a few inches thick! The entire -deposit wouldn't fill an ore-boat." A horrified expression dawned on -Magnan's face. "Retief," he gasped, "what did you do with the impounded -ore-carrier?" - -"Well, let me see," Retief said. "According to the Space Navigation -Code, a body in orbit within twenty miles of any inhabited airless body -constitutes a navigational hazard. Accordingly, I had it towed away." - -"And the cargo?" - -"Well, accelerating all that mass was an expensive business, so to save -the taxpayer's credits, I had it dumped." - -"Where?" Magnan croaked. - -"On some unimportant asteroid--as specified by Regulations." He smiled -blandly at Magnan. Magnan looked back numbly. - -"But you said--" - -"All I said was that there was what looked like a valuable deposit on -2645-P. It turned out to be a bogus gold mine that somebody had rigged -up in a hurry. Curious, eh?" - -"But you told me--" - -"And you told Mr. Leatherwell. Indiscreet of you, Mr. Consul. That was -a privileged communication; classified information, official use only." - -"You led me to believe there was collapsed crystal!" - -"I said Sam had mentioned it. He told me his asteroid was made of the -stuff." - -Magnan swallowed hard, twice. "By the way," he said dully. "You were -right about the check. Half an hour ago Mr. Leatherwell tried to stop -payment. He was too late." - -"All in all, it's been a big day for Leatherwell," Retief said. -"Anything else?" - -"I hope not," Magnan said. "I sincerely hope not." He leaned close to -the screen. "You'll consider the entire affair as ... confidential? -There's no point in unduly complicating relationships." - -"Have no fear, Mr. Consul," Retief said cheerfully. "You won't find me -identifying with anything as specific as triple-salting an asteroid." - -Back at the table, Sam called for another bottle of rock juice. - -"That Drift's a pretty good game," Retief said. "But let me show you -one I learned out on Yill...." - - [Transcriber's Note: No Section II heading in original text.] - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Saline Solution, by Keith Laumer - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SALINE SOLUTION *** - -***** This file should be named 61353.txt or 61353.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/3/5/61353/ - -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 print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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. 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