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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..8238785 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #61459 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/61459) diff --git a/old/61459-h.zip b/old/61459-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 71ba26b..0000000 --- a/old/61459-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/61459-h/61459-h.htm b/old/61459-h/61459-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 613e808..0000000 --- a/old/61459-h/61459-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2024 +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 The Governor of Glave, 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 The Governor of Glave, by Keith Laumer - -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: The Governor of Glave - -Author: Keith Laumer - -Release Date: February 20, 2020 [EBook #61459] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GOVERNOR OF GLAVE *** - - - - -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="355" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>THE GOVERNOR OF GLAVE</h1> - -<h2>BY KEITH LAUMER</h2> - -<p class="ph1">The revolution was over and peace<br /> -restored—naturally Retief expected the worst!</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Worlds of If Science Fiction, November 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>Retief turned back the gold-encrusted scarlet cuff of the mess jacket -of a First Secretary and Consul, gathered in the three eight-sided -black dice, shook them by his right ear and sent them rattling across -the floor to rebound from the bulk-head.</p> - -<p>"Thirteen's the point," the Power Section Chief called. "Ten he makes -it!"</p> - -<p>"Oh ... Mr. Retief," a strained voice called. Retief looked up. A tall -thin youth in the black-trimmed gray of a Third Secretary flapped a -sheet of paper from the edge of the circle surrounding the game. "The -Ambassador's compliments, sir, and will you join him and the staff in -the conference room at once?"</p> - -<p>Retief rose and dusted his knees. "That's all for now, boys," he said. -"I'll take the rest of your money later." He followed the junior -diplomat from the ward room, along the bare corridors of the crew -level, past the glare panel reading NOTICE—FIRST CLASS ONLY BEYOND -THIS POINT, through the chandeliered and draped ballroom and along a -stretch of soundless carpet to a heavy door bearing a placard with the -legend CONFERENCE IN SESSION.</p> - -<p>"Ambassador Sternwheeler seemed quite upset, Mr. Retief," the messenger -said.</p> - -<p>"He usually is, Pete." Retief took a cigar from his breast pocket. "Got -a light?"</p> - -<p>The Third Secretary produced a permatch. "I don't know why you smoke -those things instead of dope sticks, Mr. Retief," he said. "The -Ambassador hates the smell."</p> - -<p>Retief nodded. "I only smoke this kind at conferences. It makes for -shorter sessions." He stepped into the room. Ambassador Sternwheeler -eyed him down the length of the conference table.</p> - -<p>"Ah, Mr. Retief honors us with his presence. Do be seated, Retief." He -fingered a yellow Departmental despatch. Retief took a chair, puffing -out a dense cloud of smoke.</p> - -<p>"As I have been explaining to the remainder of my staff for the past -quarter-hour," Sternwheeler rumbled, "I've been the recipient of -important intelligence." He blinked at Retief expectantly. Retief -raised his eyebrows in polite inquiry.</p> - -<p>"It seems," Sternwheeler went on, "that there has been a change in -regime on Glave. A week ago, the government which invited the dispatch -of this mission—and to which we're accredited—was overthrown. -The former ruling class has fled into exile. A popular workers' and -peasants' junta has taken over."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Ambassador," Counsellor Magnan broke in, rising. "I'd like to be -the first—" he glanced around the table—"or one of the first, anyway, -to welcome the new government of Glave into the family of planetary -ruling bodies—"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Sit down, Magnan!" Sternwheeler snapped. "Of course the Corps always -recognizes <i>de facto</i> sovereignty. The problem is merely one of -acquainting ourselves with the policies of this new group—a sort of -blue-collar coalition, it seems. In what position that leaves this -Embassy I don't yet know."</p> - -<p>"I suppose this means we'll spend the next month in a parking orbit," -Counsellor Magnan sighed.</p> - -<p>"Unfortunately," Sternwheeler went on, "the entire affair has -apparently been carried off without recourse to violence, leaving the -Corps no excuse to move in—that is, it appears our assistance in -restoring order will not be required."</p> - -<p>"Glave was one of the old Contract Worlds," Retief said. "What's become -of the Planetary Manager General and the technical staff? And how do -the peasants and workers plan to operate the atmospheric purification -system, the Weather Control station, the tide regulation complexes?"</p> - -<p>"I'm more concerned at present with the status of the Mission! Will we -be welcomed by these peasants or peppered with buckshot?"</p> - -<p>"You say that this is a popular junta, and that the former leaders have -fled into exile," Retief said. "May I ask the source?"</p> - -<p>"The despatch cites a 'reliable Glavian source'."</p> - -<p>"That's officialese for something cribbed from a broadcast news -tape. Presumably the Glavian news services are in the hands of the -revolution. In that case—"</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes, there is the possibility that the issue is yet in doubt. -Of course we'll have to exercise caution in making our approach. It -wouldn't do to make overtures to the wrong side."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I think we need have no fear on that score," the Chief of the -Political Section spoke up. "I know these entrenched cliques. Once -challenged by an aroused populace, they scuttle for safety—with large -balances safely tucked away in neutral banks."</p> - -<p>"I'd like to go on record," Magnan piped, "as registering my deep -gratification at this fulfillment of popular aspirations—"</p> - -<p>"The most popular aspiration I know of is to live high off someone -else's effort," Retief said. "I don't know of anyone outside the Corps -who's managed it."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Gentlemen!" Sternwheeler bellowed. "I'm awaiting your constructive -suggestions—not an exchange of political views. We'll arrive off -Glave in less than six hours. I should like before that time to have -developed some notion regarding to whom I shall expect to offer my -credentials!"</p> - -<p>There was a discreet tap at the door; it opened and the young Third -Secretary poked his head in.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Ambassador, I have a reply to your message—just received from -Glave. It's signed by the Steward of the GFE, and I thought you'd want -to see it at once...."</p> - -<p>"Yes, of course; let me have it."</p> - -<p>"What's the GFE?" someone asked.</p> - -<p>"It's the revolutionary group," the messenger said, passing the message -over.</p> - -<p>"GFE? GFE? What do the letters SIGNIFY?"</p> - -<p>"Glorious Fun Eternally," Retief suggested. "Or possibly Goodies For -Everybody."</p> - -<p>"I believe that's 'Glavian Free Electorate'," the Third Secretary said.</p> - -<p>Sternwheeler stared at the paper, lips pursed. His face grew pink. He -slammed the paper on the table.</p> - -<p>"Well, gentlemen! It appears our worst fears have been realized! -This is nothing less than a warning! A threat! We're advised to -divert course and bypass Glave entirely. It seems the GFE wants no -interference from meddling foreign exploiters, as they put it!"</p> - -<p>Magnan rose. "If you'll excuse me Mr. Ambassador, I want to get off a -message to Sector HQ to hold my old job for me—"</p> - -<p>"Sit down, you idiot!" Sternwheeler roared. "If you think I'm -consenting to have my career blighted—my first Ambassadorial post -whisked out from under me—the Corps made a fool of—"</p> - -<p>"I'd like to take a look at that message," Retief said. It was passed -along to him. He read it.</p> - -<p>"I don't believe this applies to us, Mr. Ambassador."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"What are you talking about? It's addressed to me by name!"</p> - -<p>"It merely states that 'meddling foreign exploiters' are unwelcome. -Meddling foreigners we are, but we don't qualify as exploiters unless -we show a profit—and this appears to be shaping up as a particularly -profitless venture."</p> - -<p>"What are you proposing, Mr. Retief?"</p> - -<p>"That we proceed to make planetfall as scheduled, greet our welcoming -committee with wide diplomatic smiles, hint at largesse in the offing -and settle down to observe the lie of the land."</p> - -<p>"Just what I was about to suggest," Magnan said.</p> - -<p>"That might be dangerous," Sternwheeler said.</p> - -<p>"That's why I didn't suggest it," Magnan said.</p> - -<p>"Still it's essential that we learn more of the situation than can be -gleaned from official broadcasts," Sternwheeler mused. "Now, while I -can't justify risking the entire Mission, it might be advisable to -dispatch a delegation to sound out the new regime."</p> - -<p>"I'd like to volunteer," Magnan said, rising.</p> - -<p>"Of course, the delegates may be murdered—"</p> - -<p>"—but unfortunately, I'm under treatment at the moment." Magnan sat -down.</p> - -<p>"—which will place us in an excellent position, propaganda-wise.</p> - -<p>"What a pity I can't go," the Military Attache said. "But my place is -with my troops."</p> - -<p>"The only troops you've got are the Assistant Attache and your -secretary," Magnan pointed out.</p> - -<p>"Say, I'd like to be down there in the thick of things," the Political -Officer said. He assumed a grave expression. "But of course I'll be -needed here, to interpret results."</p> - -<p>"I appreciate your attitude, gentlemen," Sternwheeler said, studying -the ceiling. "But I'm afraid I must limit the privilege of volunteering -for this hazardous duty to those officers of more robust physique, -under forty years of age—"</p> - -<p>"Tsk. I'm forty-one," Magnan said.</p> - -<p>"—and with a reputation for adaptability." His glance moved along the -table.</p> - -<p>"Do you mind if I run along now, Mr. Ambassador?" Retief said. "It's -time for my insulin shot."</p> - -<p>Sternwheeler's mouth dropped open.</p> - -<p>"Just kidding," Retief said. "I'll go. But I have one request, Mr. -Ambassador: no further communication with the ground until I give the -all-clear."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph2">II</p> - -<p>Retief grounded the lighter, in-cycled the lock and stepped out. The -hot yellow Glavian sun beat down on a broad expanse of concrete, an -abandoned service cart and a row of tall ships casting black shadows -toward the silent control tower. A wisp of smoke curled up from the -shed area at the rim of the field. There was no other sign of life.</p> - -<p>Retief walked over to the cart, tossed his valise aboard, climbed -into the driver's seat and headed for the operations building. Beyond -the port, hills rose, white buildings gleaming against the deep green -slopes. Near the ridge, a vehicle moved ant-like along a winding road, -a dust trail rising behind it. Faintly a distant shot sounded.</p> - -<p>Papers littered the ground before the Operations Building. Retief -pushed open the tall glass door, stood listening. Slanting sunlight -reflected from a wide polished floor, at the far side of which -illuminated lettering over empty counters read IMMIGRATION, HEALTH -and CUSTOMS. He crossed to the desk, put the valise down, then leaned -across the counter. A worried face under an oversized white cap looked -up at him.</p> - -<p>"You can come out now," Retief said. "They've gone."</p> - -<p>The man rose, dusting himself off. He looked over Retief's shoulder. -"Who's gone?"</p> - -<p>"Whoever it was that scared you."</p> - -<p>"Whatta ya mean? I was looking for my pencil."</p> - -<p>"Here it is." Retief plucked a worn stub from the pocket of the soiled -shirt sagging under the weight of braided shoulderboards. "You can sign -me in as a Diplomatic Representative. A break for you—no formalities -necessary. Where can I catch a cab for the city?"</p> - -<p>The man eyed Retief's bag. "What's in that?"</p> - -<p>"Personal belongings under duty-free entry."</p> - -<p>"Guns?"</p> - -<p>"No, thanks, just a cab."</p> - -<p>"You got no gun?" The man raised his voice.</p> - -<p>"That's right, fellows," Retief called out. "No gun; no knife, not -even a small fission bomb. Just a few pairs of socks and some reading -matter."</p> - -<p>A brown-uniformed man ran from behind the Customs Counter, holding a -long-barreled blast-rifle centered on the Corps insignia stitched to -the pocket of Retief's powder-blue blazer.</p> - -<p>"Don't try nothing," he said. "You're under arrest."</p> - -<p>"It can't be overtime parking. I've only been here five minutes."</p> - -<p>"Hah!" The gun-handler moved out from the counter, came up to Retief. -"Empty out your pockets!" he barked. "Hands overhead!"</p> - -<p>"I'm just a diplomat, not a contortionist," Retief said, not moving. -"Do you mind pointing that thing in some other direction?"</p> - -<p>"Looky here, Mister, I'll give the orders. We don't need anybody -telling us how to run our business."</p> - -<p>"I'm telling you to shift that blaster before I take it away from you -and wrap it around your neck," Retief said conversationally. The cop -stepped back uncertainly, lowering the gun.</p> - -<p>"Jake! Horny! Pud! come on out!"</p> - -<p>Three more brown uniforms emerged from concealment.</p> - -<p>"Who are you fellows hiding from, the top sergeant?" Retief glanced -over the ill-fitting uniforms, the unshaved faces, the scuffed boots. -"Tell you what. When he shows up, I'll engage him in conversation. You -beat it back to the barracks and grab a quick bath—"</p> - -<p>"That's enough smart talk." The biggest of the three newcomers moved -up to Retief. "You stuck your nose in at the wrong time. We just had a -change of management around here."</p> - -<p>"I heard about it," Retief said. "Who do I complain to?"</p> - -<p>"Complain? What about?"</p> - -<p>"The port's a mess," Retief barked. "Nobody on duty to receive official -visitors! No passenger service facilities! Why, do you know I had to -carry my own bag—"</p> - -<p>"All right, all right, that's outside my department. You better see the -boss."</p> - -<p>"The boss? I thought you got rid of the bosses."</p> - -<p>"We did, but now we got new ones."</p> - -<p>"They any better than the old ones?"</p> - -<p>"This guy asks too many questions," the man with the gun said. "Let's -let Sozier answer 'em."</p> - -<p>"Who's he?"</p> - -<p>"He's the Military Governor of the City."</p> - -<p>"Now we're getting somewhere," Retief said. "Lead the way, Jake—and -don't forget my bag."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Sozier was a small man with thin hair oiled across a shiny scalp, -prominent ears and eyes like coal chips set in rolls of fat. He -glowered at Retief from behind a polished desk occupying the center of -a spacious office.</p> - -<p>"I warned you off," he snapped. "You came anyway." He leaned forward -and slammed a fist down on the desk. "You're used to throwing your -weight around, but you won't throw it around here! There'll be no spies -pussyfooting around Glave!"</p> - -<p>"Looking for what, Mr. Sozier?"</p> - -<p>"Call me General!"</p> - -<p>"Mind if I sit down?" Retief pulled out a chair, seated himself and -took out a cigar. "Curiously enough," he said, lighting up, "the Corps -has no intention of making any embarrassing investigations. We deal -with the existing government, no questions asked." His eyes held the -other's. "Unless, of course, there are evidences of atrocities or other -illegal measures."</p> - -<p>The coal-chip eyes narrowed. "I don't have to make explanations to you -or anybody else."</p> - -<p>"Except, presumably, the Glavian Free Electorate," Retief said blandly. -"But tell me, General—who's actually running the show?"</p> - -<p>A speaker on the desk buzzed. "Hey, Corporal Sozier! Wes's got them two -hellions cornered. They're holed up in the Birthday Cake—"</p> - -<p>"General Sozier, damn you! and plaster your big mouth shut!" He -gestured to one of the uniformed men standing by.</p> - -<p>"You! Get Trundy and Little Moe up here—pronto!" He swiveled back to -Retief. "You're in luck. I'm too busy right now to bother with you. -You get back over to the port and leave the same way you came—and tell -your blood-sucking friends the easy pickings are over as far as Glave's -concerned. You won't lounge around here living high and throwing big -parties and cooking up your dirty deals to get fat on at the expense of -the working man."</p> - -<p>Retief dribbled ash on Sozier's desk and glanced at the green uniform -front bulging between silver buttons.</p> - -<p>"Who paid for your potbelly, Sozier?" he inquired carelessly.</p> - -<p>Sozier's eyes narrowed to slits. "I could have you shot!"</p> - -<p>"Stop playing games with me, Sozier," Retief rapped. "There's a -squadron of Peace Enforcers standing by just in case any apprentice -statesmen forget the niceties of diplomatic usage. I suggest you start -showing a little intelligence about now, or even Horny and Pud are -likely to notice."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Sozier's fingers squeaked on the arms of his chair. He swallowed.</p> - -<p>"You might start by assigning me an escort for a conducted tour of -the capital," Retief went on. "I want to be in a position to confirm -that order has been re-established, and that normal services have been -restored. Otherwise it may be necessary to send in a Monitor Unit to -straighten things out."</p> - -<p>"You know you can't meddle with the internal affairs of a sovereign -world!"</p> - -<p>Retief sighed. "The trouble with taking over your boss's job is -discovering its drawbacks. It's disillusioning, I know, Sozier, but—"</p> - -<p>"All right! Take your tour! You'll find everything running as smooth as -silk! Utilities, police, transport, environmental control—"</p> - -<p>"What about Space Control? Glave Tower seems to be off the air."</p> - -<p>"I shut it down. We don't need anything and we don't want anything from -the outside."</p> - -<p>"Where's the new Premier keeping himself? Does he share your passion -for privacy?"</p> - -<p>The general got to his feet. "I'm letting you take your look, Mr. -Big Nose. I'm giving you four hours. Then out! And the next meddling -bureaucrat that tries to cut atmosphere on Glave without a clearance -gets burned!"</p> - -<p>"I'll need a car."</p> - -<p>"Jake! You stick close to this bird. Take him to the main power plant, -the water works and the dispatch center. Ride him around town and show -him we're doing okay without a bunch of leeches bossing us. Then dump -him at the port—and see that he leaves."</p> - -<p>"I'll plan my own itinerary, thanks. I can't promise I'll be finished -in four hours—but I'll keep you advised."</p> - -<p>"I warned you—"</p> - -<p>"I heard you. Five times. And I only warned you once. You're getting -ahead of me." Retief rose, motioned to the hulking guard. "Come on, -Jake. We've got a lot of ground to cover before we come back for our -dinner."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph2">III</p> - -<p>At the curb, Retief held out his hand. "Give me the power cylinder out -of your rifle, Jake."</p> - -<p>"Huh?"</p> - -<p>"Come on, Jake. You've got a nervous habit of playing with the firing -stud. We don't want any accidents."</p> - -<p>"How do you get it out? They only give me this thing yesterday."</p> - -<p>Retief pocketed the cylinder. "You sit in back. I'll drive." He wheeled -the car off along a broad avenue crowded with vehicles and lined with -flowering palms, behind which stately white buildings reared up into -the pale sky.</p> - -<p>"Nice looking city, Jake," Retief said conversationally. "What's the -population?"</p> - -<p>"I dunno. I only been here a year."</p> - -<p>"What about Horny and Pud? Are they natives?"</p> - -<p>"Whatta ya mean, natives? They're just as civilized as me."</p> - -<p>"My boner, Jake. Known Sozier long?"</p> - -<p>"Sure. He useta come around to the club."</p> - -<p>"I take it he was in the army under the old regime?"</p> - -<p>"Yeah—but he didn't like the way they run it. Nothing but band playing -and fancy marching. There wasn't nobody to fight."</p> - -<p>"Just between us, Jake—where did the former Planetary Manager General -go?" Retief watched Jake's heavy face in the mirror. Jake jumped, -clamped his mouth shut.</p> - -<p>"I don't know nothing."</p> - -<p>Half an hour later, after a tour of the commercial center, Retief -headed towards the city's outskirts. The avenue curved, leading up -along the flank of a low hill.</p> - -<p>"I must admit I'm surprised, Jake," Retief said. "Everything seems -orderly. No signs of riots or panic. Power, water, communications -normal—just as the general said. Remarkable, isn't it, considering -that the entire managerial class has packed up and left?"</p> - -<p>"You wanta see the Power Plant?" Retief could see perspiration beaded -on the man's forehead under the uniform cap.</p> - -<p>"Sure. Which way?" With Jake directing, Retief ascended to the ridge -top, cruised past the blank white facade of the station.</p> - -<p>"Quiet, isn't it?" Retief pulled the car in to the curb. "Let's go -inside."</p> - -<p>"Huh? Corporal Sozier didn't say nothing—"</p> - -<p>"You're right, Jake. That leaves it to our discretion."</p> - -<p>"He won't like it."</p> - -<p>"The corporal's a busy man, Jake. We won't worry him by telling him -about it."</p> - -<p>Jake followed Retief up the walk. The broad double doors were locked. -"Let's try the back."</p> - -<p>The narrow door set in the high blank wall opened as Retief approached. -A gun barrel poked out, followed by a small man with bushy red hair. He -looked Retief over.</p> - -<p>"Who's this party, Jake?" he barked.</p> - -<p>"Sozier said show him the plant," Jake said.</p> - -<p>"What we need is more guys to pull duty, not tourists. Anyway, <i>I'm</i> -Chief Engineer here. Nobody comes in here 'less I like their looks." -Retief moved forward, stood looking down at the redhead. The little -man hesitated, then waved him past. "Lucky for you I like your looks." -Inside, Retief surveyed the long room, the giant converter units, the -massive busbars. Armed men—some in uniform, some in work clothes -or loud sport shirts—stood here and there. Other men read meters, -adjusted controls or inspected dials.</p> - -<p>"You've got more guards than workers," Retief said. "Expecting trouble?"</p> - -<p>The redhead bit the corner from a plug of spearmint. He glanced around -the plant. "Things is quiet now; but you never know."</p> - -<p>"Rather old-fashioned equipment isn't it? When was it installed?"</p> - -<p>"Huh? I dunno. What's wrong with it?"</p> - -<p>"What's your basic power source, a core sink? Lithospheric friction? -Sub-crustal hydraulics?"</p> - -<p>"Beats me, Mister. I'm the boss here, not a dern mechanic."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A gray-haired man carrying a clipboard walked past, studied a panel, -made notes, glanced up to catch Retief's eye, moved on.</p> - -<p>"Everything seems to be running normally," Retief remarked.</p> - -<p>"Sure. Why not?"</p> - -<p>"Records being kept up properly?"</p> - -<p>"Sure. Some of these guys, all they do is walk around looking at dials -and writing stuff on paper. If it was me, I'd put 'em to work."</p> - -<p>Retief strolled over to the gray-haired man, now scribbling before a -bank of meters. He glanced at the clipboard.</p> - -<p><i>Power off at sunset. Tell Corasol</i> was scrawled in block letters -across the record sheet. Retief nodded, rejoined his guard.</p> - -<p>"All right, Jake. Let's have a look at the communications center."</p> - -<p>Back in the car, headed west, Retief studied the blank windows of -office buildings, the milling throngs in beer bars, shooting galleries, -tattoo parlors, billiard halls, pinball arcades, bordellos and -half-credit casinos.</p> - -<p>"Everybody seems to be having fun," he remarked.</p> - -<p>Jake stared out the window.</p> - -<p>"Yeah."</p> - -<p>"Too bad you're on duty, Jake. You could be out there joining in."</p> - -<p>"Soon as the corporal gets things organized, I'm opening me up a place -to show dirty tri-di's. I'll get my share."</p> - -<p>"Meanwhile, let the rest of 'em have their fun, eh Jake?"</p> - -<p>"Look, Mister, I been thinking. Maybe you better gimme back that -kick-stick you taken outa my gun...."</p> - -<p>"Sorry, Jake; no can do. Tell me, what was the real cause of the -revolution? Not enough to eat? Too much regimentation?"</p> - -<p>"Naw, we always got plenty to eat. There wasn't none of that -regimentation up till I joined up in the corporal's army."</p> - -<p>"Rigid class structure, maybe? Educational discrimination?"</p> - -<p>Jake nodded. "Yeah, it was them schools done it. All the time trying -to make a feller do some kind of class. Big shots. Know it all. Gonna -make us sit around and view tapes. Figgered they was better than us."</p> - -<p>"And Sozier's idea was you'd take over, and you wouldn't have to be -bothered."</p> - -<p>"Aw, it wasn't Sozier's idea. He ain't the big leader."</p> - -<p>"Where does the big leader keep himself?"</p> - -<p>"I dunno. I guess he's pretty busy right now." Jake snickered. "Some of -them guys call themselves colonels turned out not to know nothing about -how to shoot off the guns."</p> - -<p>"Shooting, eh? I thought it was a sort of peaceful revolution. The -managerial class were booted out, and that was that."</p> - -<p>"I don't know nothing," Jake snapped. "How come you keep trying to get -me to say stuff I ain't supposed to talk about? You want to get me in -trouble?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Oh, you're already in trouble, Jake. But if you stick with me, I'll -try to get you out of it. Where exactly did the refugees head for? How -did they leave? Must have been a lot of them; I'd say in a city of this -size alone, they'd run into the thousands."</p> - -<p>"I don't know."</p> - -<p>"Of course, it depends on your definition of a big shot. Who's included -in that category, Jake?"</p> - -<p>"You know, the slick-talking ones; the fancy dressers; the guys that -walk around and tell other guys what to do. We do all the work and they -get all the big pay."</p> - -<p>"I suppose that would cover scientists, professional men, executives, -technicians of all sorts, engineers, teachers—all that crowd."</p> - -<p>"Yeah, them are the ones."</p> - -<p>"And once you got them out of the way, the regular fellows would have a -chance. Chaps that don't spend all their time taking baths and reading -books and using big words; good Joes that don't mind picking their -noses in public."</p> - -<p>"We got as much right as anybody—"</p> - -<p>"Jake, who's Corasol?"</p> - -<p>"He's—I don't know."</p> - -<p>"I thought I overheard his name somewhere."</p> - -<p>"Uh, here's the communication center," Jake cut in.</p> - -<p>Retief swung into a parking lot under a high blank facade. He set the -brake and stepped out.</p> - -<p>"Lead the way, Jake."</p> - -<p>"Look, Mister, the corporal only wanted me to show you the outside."</p> - -<p>"Anything to hide, Jake?"</p> - -<p>Jake shook his head angrily and stamped past Retief. "When I joined up -with Sozier, I didn't figger I'd be getting in this kind of mess."</p> - -<p>"I know, Jake. It's tough. Sometimes it seems like a fellow works -harder after he's thrown out the parasites than he did before."</p> - -<p>A cautious guard let Retief and Jake inside, followed them along -bright-lit aisles among consoles, cables, batteries of instruments. -Armed men in careless uniforms lounged, watching. Here and there a -silent technician worked quietly.</p> - -<p>Retief paused by one, an elderly man in a neat white coverall, with a -purple spot under one eye.</p> - -<p>"Quite a bruise you've got there," Retief commented heartily. "Power -failure at sunset," he added softly. The technician hesitated, nodded -and moved on.</p> - -<p>Back in the car, Retief gave Jake directions. At the end of three -hours, he had seen twelve smooth-running, heavily guarded installations.</p> - -<p>"So far, so good, Jake," he said. "Next stop, Sub-station Number Nine." -In the mirror, Jake's face stiffened. "Hey, you can't go down there—"</p> - -<p>"Something going on there, Jake?"</p> - -<p>"That's where—I mean, no. I don't know."</p> - -<p>"I don't want to miss anything, Jake. Which way?"</p> - -<p>"I ain't going down there," Jake said sullenly.</p> - -<p>Retief braked. "In that case, I'm afraid our association is at an end, -Jake."</p> - -<p>"You mean ... you're getting out here?"</p> - -<p>"No, you are."</p> - -<p>"Huh? Now wait a minute, Mister! The corporal said I was to stay with -you."</p> - -<p>Retief accelerated. "That's settled, then. Which way?"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph2">IV</p> - -<p>Retief pulled the car to a halt two hundred yards from the periphery -of a loose crowd of brown-uniformed men who stood in groups scattered -across a broad plaza, overflowing into a stretch of manicured lawn -before the bare, functional facade of sub-station number Nine. In the -midst of the besieging mob, Sozier's red face and bald head bobbed as -he harangued a cluster of green-uniformed men from his place in the -rear of a long open car.</p> - -<p>"What's it all about, Jake?" Retief enquired. "Since the parasites have -all left peacefully, I'm having a hard time figuring out who'd be holed -up in the pumping station—and why. Maybe they haven't gotten the word -that it's all going to be fun and games from now on."</p> - -<p>"If the corporal sees you over here—"</p> - -<p>"Ah, the good corporal. Glad you mentioned him, Jake. He's the man to -see." Retief stepped out of the car and started through the crowd. A -heavy lorry loaded with an immense tank with the letter H blazoned on -its side trundled into the square from a side street, moved up to a -position before the building. A smaller car pulled alongside Sozier's -limousine. The driver stepped down, handed something to Sozier. A -moment later, Sozier's amplified voice boomed across the crowd.</p> - -<p>"You in there, Corasol! This is General Sozier, and I'm warning you to -come out now or you and your smart friends are in for a big surprise. -You think I won't blast you out because I don't want to wreck the -planet. You see the tank aboard the lorry that just pulled up? It's -full of gas—and I got plenty of hoses out here to pump it inside with. -I'll put men on the roof and squirt it in the ventilators."</p> - -<p>Sozier's voice echoed and died. The militiamen eyed the station. -Nothing happened.</p> - -<p>"I know you can hear me, damn you!" Sozier squalled. "You'd better get -the doors open and get out here fast!"</p> - -<p>Retief stepped to Sozier's side. "Say, Corporal, I didn't know you went -in for practical jokes."</p> - -<p>Sozier jerked around to gape at Retief.</p> - -<p>"What are you doing here!" he burst out. "I told Jake—where is that—"</p> - -<p>"Jake didn't like the questions I was asking," Retief said, "so he -marched me up here to report to you."</p> - -<p>"Jake, you damn fool!" Sozier roared. "I got a good mind—"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"I disagree, Sozier," Retief cut in. "I think you're a complete -imbecile. Sitting out here in the open yelling at the top of your -lungs, for example. Corasol and his party might get annoyed and spray -that fancy car you've swiped with something a lot more painful than -words."</p> - -<p>"Eh?" Sozier's head whipped around to stare at the building.</p> - -<p>"Isn't that a gun I see sticking out?"</p> - -<p>Sozier dropped. "Where?"</p> - -<p>"My mistake. Just a foreign particle on my contact lenses." Retief -leaned on the car. "On the other hand, Sozier, most murderers are -sneaky about it. I think making a public announcement is a nice gesture -on your part. The Monitors won't have any trouble deciding who to hang -when they come in to straighten out this mess."</p> - -<p>Sozier scrambled back onto his seat. "Monitors?" he snarled. "I -don't think so. I don't think you'll be around to do any blabbering -to anybody." He raised his voice. "Jake! March this spy over to the -sidelines. If he tries anything, shoot him!" He gave Retief a baleful -grin. "I'll lay the body out nice and ship it back to your cronies. -Accidents will happen, you know. It'll be a week or two before they get -around to following up—and by then I'll have this little problem under -control."</p> - -<p>Jake looked at Retief uncertainly, fingering his empty rifle.</p> - -<p>Retief put his hands up. "I guess you got me, Jake," he said. "Careful -of that gun, now."</p> - -<p>Jake glanced at Sozier, gulped, aimed the rifle at Retief and nodded -toward the car. As Retief moved off, a murmur swept across the crowd. -Retief glanced back. A turret on the station roof was rotating slowly. -A shout rose; men surged away from the building, scuffling for way; -Sozier yelled. His car started up, moved forward, horns blaring. As -Retief watched, a white stream arced up from the turret, catching the -sun as it spanned the lawn, plunged down to strike the massed men in a -splatter of spray. It searched across the mob, came to rest on Sozier's -car. Uniformed men scrambled for safety as the terrified driver gunned -the heavy vehicle. The hose followed the car, dropping a solid stream -of water on Sozier, kicking and flailing in the back seat. As the car -passed from view, down a side street, water was overflowing the sides.</p> - -<p>"The corporal will feel all the better for an invigorating swim in -his mobile pool," Retief commented. "By the way, Jake, I have to be -going now. It wouldn't be fair to send you back to your boss without -something to back up your story that you were outnumbered, so—"</p> - -<p>Retief's left fist shot out to connect solidly with Jake's jaw. Jake -dropped the gun and sat down hard. Retief turned and headed for the -pumping station. The hose had shut down now. A few men were standing, -eyeing the building anxiously. Others watched his progress across the -square. As Retief passed, he caught scattered comments:</p> - -<p>"—seen that bird before."</p> - -<p>"—where he's headed."</p> - -<p>"—feller Sozier was talking to...."</p> - -<p>"Hey, you!"</p> - -<p>Retief was on the grass now. Ahead, the blank wall loomed up. He walked -on briskly.</p> - -<p>"Stop that jasper!" a shout rang out. There was a sharp whine and a -black spot appeared on the wall ahead. Near it, a small personnel door -abruptly swung inward. Retief sprinted, plunged through the opening -as a second shot seared the paint on the doorframe. The door clanged -behind him. Retief glanced over the half dozen men confronting him.</p> - -<p>"I'm Retief, CDT, acting Charge," he said. "Which of you gentlemen is -Manager-General Corasol?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Corasol was a tall, wide-shouldered man of fifty, with shrewd eyes, a -ready smile, capable-looking hands and an urbane manner. He and Retief -sat at a table at one side of the large room, under a maze of piping, -tanks and valves. Corasol poured amber fluid into square glass tumblers.</p> - -<p>"We spotted you by the blazer," he said. "Baby blue and gold braid -stand out in a crowd."</p> - -<p>Retief nodded. "The uniform has its uses," he agreed. He tried the -drink. "Say, what is this? It's not bad."</p> - -<p>"Sugarweed rum. Made from a marine plant. We have plenty of ocean here -on Glave; there's only the one continent, you know, and it's useless -for agriculture."</p> - -<p>"Weather?"</p> - -<p>"That's part of it. Glave is moving into what would be a major -glaciation if it weren't for a rather elaborate climatic control -installation. Then there are the tides. Half the continent would be -inundated twice a year when our satellite is at aphelion; there's -a system of baffles, locks and deep-water pumps that maintain the -shore-line more or less constant. We still keep our cities well inland. -Then there are the oxygen generators, the atmosphere filtration -complex, vermin control and so on. Glave in its natural state is a -rather hostile world."</p> - -<p>"I'm surprised that your mines can support it all."</p> - -<p>"Oh, they don't." Corasol shook his head. "Two hundred years ago, when -the company first opened up Glave, it was economical enough. Quintite -was a precious mineral in those days. Synthetics have long since -taken over. Even fully automated, the mines barely support the public -services and welfare system."</p> - -<p>"I seem to recall a reference in the Post Report to the effect that a -company petition to vacate its charter had been denied...."</p> - -<p>Corasol nodded, smiling wryly. "The CDT seemed to feel that as long -as any of the world's residents desired to remain, the Company was -constrained to oblige them. The great majority departed long ago, of -course. Relocated to other operational areas. Only the untrainables, -living off welfare funds—and a skeleton staff of single men to operate -the technical installations—have stayed on."</p> - -<p>"That explains the mechanics of the recent uprising," Retief said.</p> - -<p>The bottle clinked against glasses for a second round. "What about the -good corporal?" Retief asked. "Assuming he's a strong swimmer, you -should be hearing from him soon."</p> - -<p>Corasol glanced at his finger watch. "I imagine he'll be launching his -gas attack any minute."</p> - -<p>"The prospect doesn't seem to bother you."</p> - -<p>"Sozier is a clever enough chap in his own way," Corasol said. "But he -has a bad habit of leaping to conclusions. He's gotten hold of a tank -of what someone has told him is gas—as indeed it is. Hydrogen, for -industrial use. It seems the poor fellow is under the impression that -anything masquerading as gas will have a lethal effect."</p> - -<p>"He may be right—if he pumps it in fast enough."</p> - -<p>"Oh, he won't be pumping it. Not after approximately five minutes from -now."</p> - -<p>"Hmmm. I think I'm beginning to see the light. 'Power off at sunset.'"</p> - -<p>Corasol nodded. "I don't think he realizes somehow that all his -vehicles are operating off broadcast power."</p> - -<p>"Still, he has a good-sized crowd of hopefuls with him. How do you plan -to get through them?"</p> - -<p>"We don't. We go under. There's an extensive system of service ways -underlying the city; another detail which I believe has escaped the -corporal's notice."</p> - -<p>"You'll be heading for the port?"</p> - -<p>"Yes—eventually. First, we have a few small chores to see to. Sozier -has quite a number of our technical men working at gun point to keep -various services going."</p> - -<p>Retief nodded. "It won't be easy breaking them out. I made a fast tour -of the city this afternoon. Locked doors, armed guards—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, the locks are power-operated, too. Our fellows will know what to -do when the power fails. I think the sudden darkness will eliminate any -problem from the guards."</p> - -<p>The lights flickered and died. The whine of the turbines was suddenly -noticeable, descending. Faint cries sounded from outside.</p> - -<p>Corasol switched on a small portable lantern. "All ready, gentlemen?" -he called, rising. "Let's move out. We want to complete this operation -before dawn."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Four hours later, Retief stood with Corasol in a low-ceilinged tunnel, -white-tiled, brilliantly lit by a central glare strip, watching as the -last of the column of men released from forced labor in the city's -utilities installations filed past. A solidly-built man with pale blond -hair came up, breathing hard.</p> - -<p>"How did it go, Taine?" Corasol asked.</p> - -<p>"They're beginning to catch on, Mr. Corasol. We had a brisk time of it -at Station Four. Everybody's clear now. No one killed, but we had a few -injuries."</p> - -<p>Corasol nodded. "The last few crews in have reported trouble. Ah—what -about—"</p> - -<p>Taine shook his head. "Sorry, sir. No trace. No one's seen them. But -they're probably at the port ahead of us, hiding out. They'd know we'd -arrive eventually."</p> - -<p>"I suppose so. You sent word to them well in advance...."</p> - -<p>"Suppose I stand by here with a few men. We'll patrol the tunnels in -case they show up. We have several hours before daylight."</p> - -<p>"Yes. I'll go along and see to the preparations at Exit Ten. We'll make -our sortie at oh-five-hundred. If you haven't seen anything of them by -then...."</p> - -<p>"I'm sure they're all right."</p> - -<p>"They'd better be." Corasol said grimly "Let's be off, Retief."</p> - -<p>"If it's all the same to you, Mr. Manager-General, I'll stay here with -Taine. I'll join you later."</p> - -<p>"As you wish. I don't imagine there'll be any trouble—but if there is, -having a CDT observer along will lend a certain air to the operation." -He smiled, shook Retief's hand and moved off along the tunnel. The -echo of feet and voices grew faint, faded to silence. Taine turned to -the three men detailed to him, conversed briefly, sent them off along -branching corridors. He glanced at Retief.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Retief, you're a diplomat. This errand is not a diplomatic one."</p> - -<p>"I've been on a few like that, too, Mr. Taine."</p> - -<p>Taine studied Retief's face. "I can believe that," he said. "However, I -think you'd better rejoin the main party."</p> - -<p>"I might be of some use here, if your missing men arrive under fire."</p> - -<p>"Missing men?" Taine's mouth twisted in a sour smile. "You fail to -grasp the picture, Mr. Retief. There'll be no missing men arriving."</p> - -<p>"Oh? I understood you were waiting here to meet them."</p> - -<p>"Not men, Mr. Retief. It happens that Corasol has twin daughters, aged -nineteen. They haven't been seen since the trouble began."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph2">V</p> - -<p>Half an hour passed. Retief leaned against the tunnel wall, arms -folded, smoking a cigar in silence. Taine paced, ten yards up the -corridor, ten yards back....</p> - -<p>"You seem nervous, Mr. Taine," Retief said.</p> - -<p>Taine stopped pacing, eyed Retief coldly. "You'd better go along now," -he said decisively. "Just follow the main tunnel. It's about a mile."</p> - -<p>"Plenty of time yet, Mr. Taine." Retief smiled and drew on his cigar. -"Your three men are still out."</p> - -<p>"They won't be back here. We'll rendezvous at Exit Ten."</p> - -<p>"Am I keeping you from something, Taine?"</p> - -<p>"I can't be responsible for your safety if you stay here."</p> - -<p>"Oh? You think I might fall victim to an accident?"</p> - -<p>Taine narrowed his eyes. "It could happen," he said harshly.</p> - -<p>"Where were the girls last seen?" Retief asked suddenly.</p> - -<p>"How would I know?"</p> - -<p>"Weren't you the one who got word to them?"</p> - -<p>"Maybe you'd better keep out of this."</p> - -<p>"You sent your men off; now you're eager to see me retire to a safe -position. Why the desire for solitude, Taine? You wouldn't by any -chance have plans?"</p> - -<p>"That's enough," Taine snapped. "On your way. That's an order!"</p> - -<p>"There are some aspects of this situation that puzzle me, Mr. -Taine. Mr. Corasol has explained to me how he and his Division -Chiefs—including you—were surprised in the executive suite at -Planetary Central by a crowd of Sozier's bully-boys. They came in past -the entire security system without an alarm. Corasol and the others put -up a surprisingly good fight and made it to the service elevators—and -from there to the sub-station. There was even time to order an -emergency alert to the entire staff—but somehow, they were all caught -at their stations and kept on the job at gun point. Now, I should think -that you, as Chief of Security as well as Communications, should have -some ideas as to how all this came about."</p> - -<p>"Are you implying—"</p> - -<p>"Let me guess, Taine. You have a deal with Sozier. He takes over, -ousts the legal owners, and sets himself up to live off the fat of the -land, with you as his technical chief. Then, I imagine, you'd find it -easy enough to dispose of Sozier—and you'd be in charge."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Without warning Taine put his head down and charged. Retief dropped -his cigar, side-stepped and planted a solid right on Taine's jaw. He -staggered, went to his hands and knees.</p> - -<p>"I suppose you'd like to get word to Sozier that his work force is -arriving at the port at oh-five-hundred," Retief said. "Of course, -he'll want to have a good-sized reception committee on hand as they -come out."</p> - -<p>Taine plunged to his feet, threw a vicious left that went past Retief's -ear, then abruptly dropped, clamped a lock on Retief's leg, twisted—</p> - -<p>The two men rolled, came to rest with Taine on top, Retief face-down, -his arm bent back and doubled. Taine, red-faced and puffing, grunted as -he applied pressure.</p> - -<p>"You know a lot about me," he grated, "but you overlooked the fact that -I've been Glavian Judo champion for the past nine years."</p> - -<p>"You're a clever man, Taine," Retief said between clenched teeth. "Too -clever to think it will work."</p> - -<p>"It will work. Glave's never had a CDT mission here before. We're too -small. Corasol invited your Embassy in because he had an idea there -was something in the wind. That forced my hand. I've had to move -hastily. But by the time I invite observers in to see for themselves, -everything will be running smoothly. I can even afford to let Corasol -and the others go—I'll have hostages for his good behavior."</p> - -<p>"You've been wanting to boast about it to someone who could appreciate -your cleverness, I see. Sozier must be an unappreciative audience."</p> - -<p>"Sozier's a filthy pig—but he had his uses."</p> - -<p>"What do you plan to do now?"</p> - -<p>"I've been wondering that myself—but I think the best solution is to -simply break your arm for now. You should be easy to control then. It's -quite simple. I merely apply pressure, thus...."</p> - -<p>"Judo is a very useful technique," Retief said. "But in order to make -it work, you have to be a pretty good man...." He moved suddenly, -shifting his position. Taine grabbed, holding Retief's arm by the wrist -and elbow, his own arm levering Retief's back, back.... Retief twisted -onto his side, then his back. Taine grunted, following the movement, -straining. Slowly, Retief sat up against Taine's weight. Then, with a -surge, he straightened his arm. Taine's grip broke. Retief came to his -feet. Taine scrambled up in time to meet a clean uppercut that snapped -him onto his back—out cold.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Ah, there you are," Retief said as Taine's eyes fluttered and opened. -"You've had a nice nap—almost fifteen minutes. Feeling better?"</p> - -<p>Taine snarled, straining against the bonds on his wrists.</p> - -<p>"Gold braid has its uses," Retief commented. "Now that you're back, -perhaps you can answer a question for me. What's the Birthday Cake?"</p> - -<p>Taine spat. Retief went to stand over him.</p> - -<p>"Time is growing short, Mr. Taine. It will be dawn in another two -hours. I can't afford the luxury of coaxing you."</p> - -<p>"You won't get away with this."</p> - -<p>Retief looked at the glowing end of his cigar. "This won't be subtle, I -agree—but it will work."</p> - -<p>"You're bluffing."</p> - -<p>Retief leaned closer. "In my place—would you hesitate?" he asked -softly.</p> - -<p>Taine cursed, struggled to break free, eyes on the cigar.</p> - -<p>"What kind of diplomat are you?" he snarled.</p> - -<p>"The modern variety. Throat-cutting, thumb-screws, poison and stiletto -work were popular in Machiavelli's time; nowadays we go in more for the -administrative approach—but the cigar-end still has its role."</p> - -<p>"Look, we can come to an agreement—"</p> - -<p>"What's the Birthday Cake?" Retief snapped.</p> - -<p>"I'm in a position to do a lot for you!"</p> - -<p>"Last chance—"</p> - -<p>"It's the official Residence of the Manager-General!" Taine screeched, -writhing away from the cigar.</p> - -<p>"Where is it? Talk fast!"</p> - -<p>"You'll never get close! There's a seven-foot wall and by this time the -grounds are swarming with Sozier's men."</p> - -<p>"Nevertheless, I want to know where it is—and the information had -better be good. If I don't come back, you'll have a long wait."</p> - -<p>Taine groaned. "All right. Put that damned cigar away. I'll tell you -what I can...."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Retief stood in the shadow of a vine-grown wall, watching the relief -of the five-man guard detail at the main gate to the Residence -grounds. The bluish light of the Glavian satellite reflected from the -rain-pocked street, glinted from the leaves of a massive tree ten yards -from the gate. The chill in the air cut through Retief's wet clothes. -The men at the gate huddled, hands in pockets, coat collars turned up, -backs to the wind—and to Retief. He moved silently forward, caught a -low branch of the tree, pulled himself up.</p> - -<p>The men at the gate exchanged muttered remarks. One lit a cigarette. -Retief waited, then moved higher. The guards talked in low voices, -edged closer to the shelter of the gate-house. Retief lowered himself -onto the wall, dropped down onto the sodden lawn, crouched, waiting. -There was no alarm.</p> - -<p>Through the trees the dark shape of the house loomed up, its top storey -defiantly ablaze with lights. Retief moved off silently, from the -shadow of one tree to the next, swinging in an arc that would bring -him to the rear of the great round structure. He froze as the heavy -footfalls of one of Sozier's pickets slogged past five yards from him, -then moved on. The glow of a campfire flickered near the front of the -house. Retief could make out the shapes of men around it—a dozen or -two, at least. Probably as many more warmed themselves at each of the -other fires visible on the grounds—and most of the rest had doubtless -found dryer shelter in the lee of the house itself.</p> - -<p>Retief reached the conservatory at the rear of the house, studied the -dark path leading to the broad terrace, picked out the squat shape of -the utilities manifold behind a screen of shrubbery. So far, Taine's -information had been accurate. The next step was to—</p> - -<p>There was a faint sound from high above, followed by a whoosh! Then -with a sharp crack! a flare appeared overhead, rocking gracefully, -floating down gently under a small parachute. Below it, inky shadows -rocked in unison.</p> - -<p>In the raw white light, Retief counted eighteen men clinging to -handholds on the side of the house, immobile in the pitiless glare. -Above them, a face appeared, then a second, peering over the edge of -the fourth-storey gallery. Both figures rose, unlimbering four-foot -bows, fitting arrows to strings—</p> - -<p><i>Whok! Whok!</i> Two men lost their holds and fell, yelling, to slam into -the heavy shrubbery. A second flight of arrows found marks. Retief -watched from the shadows as man after man dropped to flounder in the -wet foliage. Several jumped before the deadly bows were turned on -them. As the flare faded, the last of the men plunged down to crash -among their fellows. Retief stepped out, ran swiftly to the manifold, -forcing his way among the close-growing screen, scrambled to its top. -His hand fell on a spent arrow. He picked it up.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" width="323" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>It was a stout wooden shaft twenty inches long, terminating in a rubber -suction cup. Retief snorted, dropped the arrow and started up.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph2">VI</p> - -<p>Twenty feet above ground level, the wide windows of the third floor -sun terrace presented a precarious handhold as Retief swung back a -foot and kicked in a panel. Inside, he dimly made out the shape of a -broad carpeted room, curving out of sight in both directions. There -were wide-leaved tropical plants in boxes, groups of padded chairs, -low tables with bowls of fruit. Retief made his way past them, found -an inner door, went into a dark hall. At the far end, voices exchanged -shouted questions. Feet pounded. A flicker of light from a hand lantern -splashed across the wall, disappeared. Retief found a stair, went up -it noiselessly. According to Taine, the elevator to the top floor -apartment should be to the left—</p> - -<p>Retief flattened himself to the wall. Footsteps sounded near at hand. -He moved quickly to a doorway. There was a murmur of voices, the -wavering light of lanterns. A party of uniformed men tiptoed past a -cross corridor, struggling under the weight of a massive log two feet -in diameter and twelve feet long.</p> - -<p>"... on signal, hit it all together. Then ..." someone was saying.</p> - -<p>Retief waited, listening. There was the creak of a door, the fumbling -of awkwardly laden feet on a stair, hoarse breathing, a muffled curse.</p> - -<p>"... got my fingers, you slob!" a voice snarled.</p> - -<p>"Shaddup!" another voice hissed.</p> - -<p>There was a long moment of silence, then a muffled command—followed -an instant later by a thunderous crash, a shout—cut off abruptly by -a ponderous <i>blam!</i> followed instantly by a roar like a burst dam, -mingled with yells, thumps, crashes. A foamy wash of water surged along -the cross corridor, followed a moment later by a man sliding on his -back, then another, two more, the log, fragments of a door, more men.</p> - -<p>In the uproar, Retief moved along to the elevator, felt over the -control panel, located a small knurled button. He turned it. The panel -came away. He fumbled cautiously, found a toggle switch, flipped it. A -light sprang up in the car. Instantly Retief flipped the light switch; -the glow faded. He waited. No alarm. Men were picking themselves up, -shouting.</p> - -<p>"... them broads dropped a hundred-gallon bag of water ..." Someone -complained.</p> - -<p>"... up there fast, men. We got the door okay!"</p> - -<p>Feet thumped. Yells sounded.</p> - -<p>"No good, Wes! They got a safe or something in the way!"</p> - -<p>Retief silently closed the lift door, pressed the button. With a sigh, -the car slid upward, came to a gentle stop. He eased the door open, -looked out into a dim-lit entrance hall. Footsteps sounded beyond a -door. He waited; the clack of high heels crossing a floor. Retief -stepped out of the car, went to the door, glanced into a spacious -lounge with rich furniture, deep rugs, paintings, a sweep of glass, and -in an alcove at the far side, a bar. Retief crossed the room, poured a -stiff drink into a paper-thin glass and drained it.</p> - -<p>The high-heeled steps were coming back now. A door opened. Two leggy -young women in shorts, with red-gold hair bound back by ribbons—one -green, one blue—stepped into the room. One girl held a coil of -insulated wire; the other, a heavy-looking gray-enameled box eight -inches on a side.</p> - -<p>"Now, see if you can tinker that generator to get a little more juice, -Lyn," the girl with the wire said. "I'll start stringing...."</p> - -<p>Her voice died as she caught sight of Retief. He raised his glass. "My -compliments, ladies. I see you're keeping yourselves amused."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Who ... who are you?" Lyn faltered.</p> - -<p>"My name's Retief. Your father sent me along to carry your bags. It's -lucky I arrived when I did, before any of those defenseless chaps -outside were seriously injured."</p> - -<p>"You're not ... one of them?"</p> - -<p>"Of course he's not, Lyn," the second girl said. "He's much too -good-looking."</p> - -<p>"That's good," Lyn said crisply. "I didn't want to have to use this -thing." She tossed a bright-plated 2 mm needler onto a chair and sat -down. "Dad's all right, isn't he?"</p> - -<p>"He's fine, and we've got to be going. Tight schedule, you know. And -you'd better get some clothes on. It's cold outside."</p> - -<p>Lyn nodded. "Environmental Control went off the air six hours ago. You -can already feel snow coming."</p> - -<p>"Don't you suppose we have time to just rig up one little old circuit?" -the other twin wheedled. "Nothing serious; just enough to tickle."</p> - -<p>"We planned to wire all the window frames, the trunk we used to block -the stair, the lift shaft—"</p> - -<p>"And then we thought we'd try to drop a loop down and pick up the -gallery guard rail, and maybe some of that wrought-iron work around the -front of the house—"</p> - -<p>"Sorry, girls; no time."</p> - -<p>Five minutes later, the twins were ready, wrapped in fur robes. Retief -had exchanged his soaked blazer for a down-lined weatherproof.</p> - -<p>"The lift will take us all the way down, won't it?" he asked.</p> - -<p>Lyn nodded. "We can go out through the wine cellar."</p> - -<p>Retief picked up the needler and handed it to Lyn. "Hang on to this," -he said. "You may need it yet."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A cold wind whipped the ramp as dawn lightened the sky.</p> - -<p>"It's hard to believe," Corasol said. "What made him do it?"</p> - -<p>"He saw a chance to own it all."</p> - -<p>"He can have it," Corasol's communicator beeped. He put it to his ear. -"Everything's ship-shape and ready to lift," a tiny voice said.</p> - -<p>Corasol turned to Retief. "Let's go aboard."</p> - -<p>"Hold it," Retief said. "There's someone coming."</p> - -<p>Corasol spoke into the communicator. "Keep him covered."</p> - -<p>The man slogging across the concrete was short, wrapped in heavy -garments. Over his head a white cloth fluttered from a stick.</p> - -<p>"From the set of those bat-ears, I'd say it was the good corporal."</p> - -<p>"I wonder what he wants."</p> - -<p>Sozier stopped twenty feet from Retief and Corasol.</p> - -<p>"I want to ... ah ... talk to you, Corasol," he said.</p> - -<p>"Certainly, General. Go right ahead."</p> - -<p>"Look here, Corasol. You can't do this. My men will freeze. We'll -starve. I've been thinking it over, and I've decided that we can reach -an understanding."</p> - -<p>Corasol waited.</p> - -<p>"I mean, we can get together on this thing. Compromise. Maybe I acted a -little hasty." Sozier looked from Corasol to Retief. "You're from the -CDT. You tell him. I'll guarantee his people full rights...."</p> - -<p>Retief puffed at his cigar in silence. Sozier started again.</p> - -<p>"Look, I'll give you a full voice in running things. A fifty-fifty -split. Whatta you say?"</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid the proposal doesn't interest me, General," Corasol said.</p> - -<p>"Never mind the General stuff," Sozier said desperately. "Listen, you -can run it. Just give me and my boys a little say-so."</p> - -<p>"Sorry." Corasol shook his head. "Not interested, General."</p> - -<p>"Okay, okay! You win! Just come on back and get things straightened -out! I got a belly full of running things!"</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid I have other plans, General. For some time I've wanted -to transfer operations to a world called Las Palmas on which we hold -a charter. It has a naturally delightful climate, and I'm told the -fishing is good. I leave Glave to the Free Electorate with my blessing. -Good-by, General." He turned to the ship.</p> - -<p>"You got to stay here!" Sozier howled. "We'll complain to the CDT! And -don't call me General! I'm a Corporal—"</p> - -<p>"You're a General now—whether you like it or not." Corasol said -bluntly. He shivered. There was a hint of ice in the air. "If you or -any of your men ever decide to go to work, General, I daresay we can -train you for employment on Las Palmas. In the meantime—Long Live the -Revolution!"</p> - -<p>"You can't do this! I'll sue!"</p> - -<p>"Calm down, Sozier," Retief said. "Go back to town and see if you can -get your radio working. Put in a call for Mr. Magnan aboard the CDT -vessel. Tell him your troubles. It will make his day. And a word of -advice: Mr. Magnan hates a piker—so ask for plenty."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"My boy, I'm delighted," Ambassador Sternwheeler boomed. "A highly -professional piece of work. A stirring testimonial to the value of the -skilled negotiator!"</p> - -<p>"You're too kind, Mr. Ambassador." Retief said, glancing at his watch.</p> - -<p>"And Magnan tells me that not only will the Mission be welcomed, and my -job secure for another year—that is, I shall have an opportunity to -serve—but a technical mission has been requested as well. I shall look -forward to meeting General Sozier. He sounds a most reasonable chap."</p> - -<p>"Oh, you'll like him, Mr. Ambassador. A true democrat, willing to share -all you have."</p> - -<p>Counsellor of Embassy Magnan tapped and entered the office.</p> - -<p>"Forgive the intrusion, Mr. Ambassador," he said breathlessly, "but I -must—"</p> - -<p>"Well, what is it, man? The deal hasn't gone sour?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, far from it! I've been exploring General Sozier's economic -situation with him via scope, and it seems he'll require a loan."</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes? How much?"</p> - -<p>Magnan inhaled proudly. "Twenty. Million. Credits."</p> - -<p>"No!"</p> - -<p>"Yes!"</p> - -<p>"Magnificent! Good lord, Magnan, you're a genius! This will mean -promotions all around. Why, the administrative load alone—"</p> - -<p>"I can't wait to make planetfall, Mr. Ambassador. I'm all a-bubble -with plans. I hope they manage to get the docking facilities back in -operation soon."</p> - -<p>"Help is on the way, my dear Magnan. I'm assured the Environmental -Control installations will be coming back in operation again within a -year or two."</p> - -<p>"My, didn't those ice-caps form quickly. And in the open sea."</p> - -<p>"Mere scum ice. As my Counsellor for Technical Affairs, you'll be in -charge of the ice-breaking operation once we're settled in. I imagine -you'll want to spend considerable time in the field. I'll be expecting -a record of how every credit is spent."</p> - -<p>"I'm more the executive type," Magnan said. "Possibly Retief—"</p> - -<p>A desk speaker hummed. "Mr. Corasol's lighter has arrived to ferry Mr. -Retief across to the Company ship...."</p> - -<p>"Sorry you won't be with us, Retief," Sternwheeler said heartily. He -turned to Magnan. "Manager-General Corasol has extended Retief an -exequatur as Consul General to Las Palmas."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Retief nodded. "Much as I'd like to be out in that open boat with you, -breaking ice, I'm afraid duty calls elsewhere."</p> - -<p>"Your own post? I'm not sure he's experienced enough, Mr. Ambassador. -Now, I—"</p> - -<p>"He was requested by name, Magnan. It seems the Manager-General's -children took a fancy to him."</p> - -<p>"Eh? How curious. I never thought you were particularly interested in -infant care, Retief."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps I haven't been, Mr. Magnan." Retief draped his short blue cape -over his left arm and turned to the door. "But remember the diplomat's -motto: be adaptable...."</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Governor of Glave, by Keith Laumer - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GOVERNOR OF GLAVE *** - -***** This file should be named 61459-h.htm or 61459-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/4/5/61459/ - -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. 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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/license - - -Title: The Governor of Glave - -Author: Keith Laumer - -Release Date: February 20, 2020 [EBook #61459] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GOVERNOR OF GLAVE *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - THE GOVERNOR OF GLAVE - - BY KEITH LAUMER - - The revolution was over and peace - restored--naturally Retief expected the worst! - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Worlds of If Science Fiction, November 1963. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - I - -Retief turned back the gold-encrusted scarlet cuff of the mess jacket -of a First Secretary and Consul, gathered in the three eight-sided -black dice, shook them by his right ear and sent them rattling across -the floor to rebound from the bulk-head. - -"Thirteen's the point," the Power Section Chief called. "Ten he makes -it!" - -"Oh ... Mr. Retief," a strained voice called. Retief looked up. A tall -thin youth in the black-trimmed gray of a Third Secretary flapped a -sheet of paper from the edge of the circle surrounding the game. "The -Ambassador's compliments, sir, and will you join him and the staff in -the conference room at once?" - -Retief rose and dusted his knees. "That's all for now, boys," he said. -"I'll take the rest of your money later." He followed the junior -diplomat from the ward room, along the bare corridors of the crew -level, past the glare panel reading NOTICE--FIRST CLASS ONLY BEYOND -THIS POINT, through the chandeliered and draped ballroom and along a -stretch of soundless carpet to a heavy door bearing a placard with the -legend CONFERENCE IN SESSION. - -"Ambassador Sternwheeler seemed quite upset, Mr. Retief," the messenger -said. - -"He usually is, Pete." Retief took a cigar from his breast pocket. "Got -a light?" - -The Third Secretary produced a permatch. "I don't know why you smoke -those things instead of dope sticks, Mr. Retief," he said. "The -Ambassador hates the smell." - -Retief nodded. "I only smoke this kind at conferences. It makes for -shorter sessions." He stepped into the room. Ambassador Sternwheeler -eyed him down the length of the conference table. - -"Ah, Mr. Retief honors us with his presence. Do be seated, Retief." He -fingered a yellow Departmental despatch. Retief took a chair, puffing -out a dense cloud of smoke. - -"As I have been explaining to the remainder of my staff for the past -quarter-hour," Sternwheeler rumbled, "I've been the recipient of -important intelligence." He blinked at Retief expectantly. Retief -raised his eyebrows in polite inquiry. - -"It seems," Sternwheeler went on, "that there has been a change in -regime on Glave. A week ago, the government which invited the dispatch -of this mission--and to which we're accredited--was overthrown. -The former ruling class has fled into exile. A popular workers' and -peasants' junta has taken over." - -"Mr. Ambassador," Counsellor Magnan broke in, rising. "I'd like to be -the first--" he glanced around the table--"or one of the first, anyway, -to welcome the new government of Glave into the family of planetary -ruling bodies--" - - * * * * * - -"Sit down, Magnan!" Sternwheeler snapped. "Of course the Corps always -recognizes _de facto_ sovereignty. The problem is merely one of -acquainting ourselves with the policies of this new group--a sort of -blue-collar coalition, it seems. In what position that leaves this -Embassy I don't yet know." - -"I suppose this means we'll spend the next month in a parking orbit," -Counsellor Magnan sighed. - -"Unfortunately," Sternwheeler went on, "the entire affair has -apparently been carried off without recourse to violence, leaving the -Corps no excuse to move in--that is, it appears our assistance in -restoring order will not be required." - -"Glave was one of the old Contract Worlds," Retief said. "What's become -of the Planetary Manager General and the technical staff? And how do -the peasants and workers plan to operate the atmospheric purification -system, the Weather Control station, the tide regulation complexes?" - -"I'm more concerned at present with the status of the Mission! Will we -be welcomed by these peasants or peppered with buckshot?" - -"You say that this is a popular junta, and that the former leaders have -fled into exile," Retief said. "May I ask the source?" - -"The despatch cites a 'reliable Glavian source'." - -"That's officialese for something cribbed from a broadcast news -tape. Presumably the Glavian news services are in the hands of the -revolution. In that case--" - -"Yes, yes, there is the possibility that the issue is yet in doubt. -Of course we'll have to exercise caution in making our approach. It -wouldn't do to make overtures to the wrong side." - -"Oh, I think we need have no fear on that score," the Chief of the -Political Section spoke up. "I know these entrenched cliques. Once -challenged by an aroused populace, they scuttle for safety--with large -balances safely tucked away in neutral banks." - -"I'd like to go on record," Magnan piped, "as registering my deep -gratification at this fulfillment of popular aspirations--" - -"The most popular aspiration I know of is to live high off someone -else's effort," Retief said. "I don't know of anyone outside the Corps -who's managed it." - - * * * * * - -"Gentlemen!" Sternwheeler bellowed. "I'm awaiting your constructive -suggestions--not an exchange of political views. We'll arrive off -Glave in less than six hours. I should like before that time to have -developed some notion regarding to whom I shall expect to offer my -credentials!" - -There was a discreet tap at the door; it opened and the young Third -Secretary poked his head in. - -"Mr. Ambassador, I have a reply to your message--just received from -Glave. It's signed by the Steward of the GFE, and I thought you'd want -to see it at once...." - -"Yes, of course; let me have it." - -"What's the GFE?" someone asked. - -"It's the revolutionary group," the messenger said, passing the message -over. - -"GFE? GFE? What do the letters SIGNIFY?" - -"Glorious Fun Eternally," Retief suggested. "Or possibly Goodies For -Everybody." - -"I believe that's 'Glavian Free Electorate'," the Third Secretary said. - -Sternwheeler stared at the paper, lips pursed. His face grew pink. He -slammed the paper on the table. - -"Well, gentlemen! It appears our worst fears have been realized! -This is nothing less than a warning! A threat! We're advised to -divert course and bypass Glave entirely. It seems the GFE wants no -interference from meddling foreign exploiters, as they put it!" - -Magnan rose. "If you'll excuse me Mr. Ambassador, I want to get off a -message to Sector HQ to hold my old job for me--" - -"Sit down, you idiot!" Sternwheeler roared. "If you think I'm -consenting to have my career blighted--my first Ambassadorial post -whisked out from under me--the Corps made a fool of--" - -"I'd like to take a look at that message," Retief said. It was passed -along to him. He read it. - -"I don't believe this applies to us, Mr. Ambassador." - - * * * * * - -"What are you talking about? It's addressed to me by name!" - -"It merely states that 'meddling foreign exploiters' are unwelcome. -Meddling foreigners we are, but we don't qualify as exploiters unless -we show a profit--and this appears to be shaping up as a particularly -profitless venture." - -"What are you proposing, Mr. Retief?" - -"That we proceed to make planetfall as scheduled, greet our welcoming -committee with wide diplomatic smiles, hint at largesse in the offing -and settle down to observe the lie of the land." - -"Just what I was about to suggest," Magnan said. - -"That might be dangerous," Sternwheeler said. - -"That's why I didn't suggest it," Magnan said. - -"Still it's essential that we learn more of the situation than can be -gleaned from official broadcasts," Sternwheeler mused. "Now, while I -can't justify risking the entire Mission, it might be advisable to -dispatch a delegation to sound out the new regime." - -"I'd like to volunteer," Magnan said, rising. - -"Of course, the delegates may be murdered--" - -"--but unfortunately, I'm under treatment at the moment." Magnan sat -down. - -"--which will place us in an excellent position, propaganda-wise. - -"What a pity I can't go," the Military Attache said. "But my place is -with my troops." - -"The only troops you've got are the Assistant Attache and your -secretary," Magnan pointed out. - -"Say, I'd like to be down there in the thick of things," the Political -Officer said. He assumed a grave expression. "But of course I'll be -needed here, to interpret results." - -"I appreciate your attitude, gentlemen," Sternwheeler said, studying -the ceiling. "But I'm afraid I must limit the privilege of volunteering -for this hazardous duty to those officers of more robust physique, -under forty years of age--" - -"Tsk. I'm forty-one," Magnan said. - -"--and with a reputation for adaptability." His glance moved along the -table. - -"Do you mind if I run along now, Mr. Ambassador?" Retief said. "It's -time for my insulin shot." - -Sternwheeler's mouth dropped open. - -"Just kidding," Retief said. "I'll go. But I have one request, Mr. -Ambassador: no further communication with the ground until I give the -all-clear." - - - II - -Retief grounded the lighter, in-cycled the lock and stepped out. The -hot yellow Glavian sun beat down on a broad expanse of concrete, an -abandoned service cart and a row of tall ships casting black shadows -toward the silent control tower. A wisp of smoke curled up from the -shed area at the rim of the field. There was no other sign of life. - -Retief walked over to the cart, tossed his valise aboard, climbed -into the driver's seat and headed for the operations building. Beyond -the port, hills rose, white buildings gleaming against the deep green -slopes. Near the ridge, a vehicle moved ant-like along a winding road, -a dust trail rising behind it. Faintly a distant shot sounded. - -Papers littered the ground before the Operations Building. Retief -pushed open the tall glass door, stood listening. Slanting sunlight -reflected from a wide polished floor, at the far side of which -illuminated lettering over empty counters read IMMIGRATION, HEALTH -and CUSTOMS. He crossed to the desk, put the valise down, then leaned -across the counter. A worried face under an oversized white cap looked -up at him. - -"You can come out now," Retief said. "They've gone." - -The man rose, dusting himself off. He looked over Retief's shoulder. -"Who's gone?" - -"Whoever it was that scared you." - -"Whatta ya mean? I was looking for my pencil." - -"Here it is." Retief plucked a worn stub from the pocket of the soiled -shirt sagging under the weight of braided shoulderboards. "You can sign -me in as a Diplomatic Representative. A break for you--no formalities -necessary. Where can I catch a cab for the city?" - -The man eyed Retief's bag. "What's in that?" - -"Personal belongings under duty-free entry." - -"Guns?" - -"No, thanks, just a cab." - -"You got no gun?" The man raised his voice. - -"That's right, fellows," Retief called out. "No gun; no knife, not -even a small fission bomb. Just a few pairs of socks and some reading -matter." - -A brown-uniformed man ran from behind the Customs Counter, holding a -long-barreled blast-rifle centered on the Corps insignia stitched to -the pocket of Retief's powder-blue blazer. - -"Don't try nothing," he said. "You're under arrest." - -"It can't be overtime parking. I've only been here five minutes." - -"Hah!" The gun-handler moved out from the counter, came up to Retief. -"Empty out your pockets!" he barked. "Hands overhead!" - -"I'm just a diplomat, not a contortionist," Retief said, not moving. -"Do you mind pointing that thing in some other direction?" - -"Looky here, Mister, I'll give the orders. We don't need anybody -telling us how to run our business." - -"I'm telling you to shift that blaster before I take it away from you -and wrap it around your neck," Retief said conversationally. The cop -stepped back uncertainly, lowering the gun. - -"Jake! Horny! Pud! come on out!" - -Three more brown uniforms emerged from concealment. - -"Who are you fellows hiding from, the top sergeant?" Retief glanced -over the ill-fitting uniforms, the unshaved faces, the scuffed boots. -"Tell you what. When he shows up, I'll engage him in conversation. You -beat it back to the barracks and grab a quick bath--" - -"That's enough smart talk." The biggest of the three newcomers moved -up to Retief. "You stuck your nose in at the wrong time. We just had a -change of management around here." - -"I heard about it," Retief said. "Who do I complain to?" - -"Complain? What about?" - -"The port's a mess," Retief barked. "Nobody on duty to receive official -visitors! No passenger service facilities! Why, do you know I had to -carry my own bag--" - -"All right, all right, that's outside my department. You better see the -boss." - -"The boss? I thought you got rid of the bosses." - -"We did, but now we got new ones." - -"They any better than the old ones?" - -"This guy asks too many questions," the man with the gun said. "Let's -let Sozier answer 'em." - -"Who's he?" - -"He's the Military Governor of the City." - -"Now we're getting somewhere," Retief said. "Lead the way, Jake--and -don't forget my bag." - - * * * * * - -Sozier was a small man with thin hair oiled across a shiny scalp, -prominent ears and eyes like coal chips set in rolls of fat. He -glowered at Retief from behind a polished desk occupying the center of -a spacious office. - -"I warned you off," he snapped. "You came anyway." He leaned forward -and slammed a fist down on the desk. "You're used to throwing your -weight around, but you won't throw it around here! There'll be no spies -pussyfooting around Glave!" - -"Looking for what, Mr. Sozier?" - -"Call me General!" - -"Mind if I sit down?" Retief pulled out a chair, seated himself and -took out a cigar. "Curiously enough," he said, lighting up, "the Corps -has no intention of making any embarrassing investigations. We deal -with the existing government, no questions asked." His eyes held the -other's. "Unless, of course, there are evidences of atrocities or other -illegal measures." - -The coal-chip eyes narrowed. "I don't have to make explanations to you -or anybody else." - -"Except, presumably, the Glavian Free Electorate," Retief said blandly. -"But tell me, General--who's actually running the show?" - -A speaker on the desk buzzed. "Hey, Corporal Sozier! Wes's got them two -hellions cornered. They're holed up in the Birthday Cake--" - -"General Sozier, damn you! and plaster your big mouth shut!" He -gestured to one of the uniformed men standing by. - -"You! Get Trundy and Little Moe up here--pronto!" He swiveled back to -Retief. "You're in luck. I'm too busy right now to bother with you. -You get back over to the port and leave the same way you came--and tell -your blood-sucking friends the easy pickings are over as far as Glave's -concerned. You won't lounge around here living high and throwing big -parties and cooking up your dirty deals to get fat on at the expense of -the working man." - -Retief dribbled ash on Sozier's desk and glanced at the green uniform -front bulging between silver buttons. - -"Who paid for your potbelly, Sozier?" he inquired carelessly. - -Sozier's eyes narrowed to slits. "I could have you shot!" - -"Stop playing games with me, Sozier," Retief rapped. "There's a -squadron of Peace Enforcers standing by just in case any apprentice -statesmen forget the niceties of diplomatic usage. I suggest you start -showing a little intelligence about now, or even Horny and Pud are -likely to notice." - - * * * * * - -Sozier's fingers squeaked on the arms of his chair. He swallowed. - -"You might start by assigning me an escort for a conducted tour of -the capital," Retief went on. "I want to be in a position to confirm -that order has been re-established, and that normal services have been -restored. Otherwise it may be necessary to send in a Monitor Unit to -straighten things out." - -"You know you can't meddle with the internal affairs of a sovereign -world!" - -Retief sighed. "The trouble with taking over your boss's job is -discovering its drawbacks. It's disillusioning, I know, Sozier, but--" - -"All right! Take your tour! You'll find everything running as smooth as -silk! Utilities, police, transport, environmental control--" - -"What about Space Control? Glave Tower seems to be off the air." - -"I shut it down. We don't need anything and we don't want anything from -the outside." - -"Where's the new Premier keeping himself? Does he share your passion -for privacy?" - -The general got to his feet. "I'm letting you take your look, Mr. -Big Nose. I'm giving you four hours. Then out! And the next meddling -bureaucrat that tries to cut atmosphere on Glave without a clearance -gets burned!" - -"I'll need a car." - -"Jake! You stick close to this bird. Take him to the main power plant, -the water works and the dispatch center. Ride him around town and show -him we're doing okay without a bunch of leeches bossing us. Then dump -him at the port--and see that he leaves." - -"I'll plan my own itinerary, thanks. I can't promise I'll be finished -in four hours--but I'll keep you advised." - -"I warned you--" - -"I heard you. Five times. And I only warned you once. You're getting -ahead of me." Retief rose, motioned to the hulking guard. "Come on, -Jake. We've got a lot of ground to cover before we come back for our -dinner." - - - III - -At the curb, Retief held out his hand. "Give me the power cylinder out -of your rifle, Jake." - -"Huh?" - -"Come on, Jake. You've got a nervous habit of playing with the firing -stud. We don't want any accidents." - -"How do you get it out? They only give me this thing yesterday." - -Retief pocketed the cylinder. "You sit in back. I'll drive." He wheeled -the car off along a broad avenue crowded with vehicles and lined with -flowering palms, behind which stately white buildings reared up into -the pale sky. - -"Nice looking city, Jake," Retief said conversationally. "What's the -population?" - -"I dunno. I only been here a year." - -"What about Horny and Pud? Are they natives?" - -"Whatta ya mean, natives? They're just as civilized as me." - -"My boner, Jake. Known Sozier long?" - -"Sure. He useta come around to the club." - -"I take it he was in the army under the old regime?" - -"Yeah--but he didn't like the way they run it. Nothing but band playing -and fancy marching. There wasn't nobody to fight." - -"Just between us, Jake--where did the former Planetary Manager General -go?" Retief watched Jake's heavy face in the mirror. Jake jumped, -clamped his mouth shut. - -"I don't know nothing." - -Half an hour later, after a tour of the commercial center, Retief -headed towards the city's outskirts. The avenue curved, leading up -along the flank of a low hill. - -"I must admit I'm surprised, Jake," Retief said. "Everything seems -orderly. No signs of riots or panic. Power, water, communications -normal--just as the general said. Remarkable, isn't it, considering -that the entire managerial class has packed up and left?" - -"You wanta see the Power Plant?" Retief could see perspiration beaded -on the man's forehead under the uniform cap. - -"Sure. Which way?" With Jake directing, Retief ascended to the ridge -top, cruised past the blank white facade of the station. - -"Quiet, isn't it?" Retief pulled the car in to the curb. "Let's go -inside." - -"Huh? Corporal Sozier didn't say nothing--" - -"You're right, Jake. That leaves it to our discretion." - -"He won't like it." - -"The corporal's a busy man, Jake. We won't worry him by telling him -about it." - -Jake followed Retief up the walk. The broad double doors were locked. -"Let's try the back." - -The narrow door set in the high blank wall opened as Retief approached. -A gun barrel poked out, followed by a small man with bushy red hair. He -looked Retief over. - -"Who's this party, Jake?" he barked. - -"Sozier said show him the plant," Jake said. - -"What we need is more guys to pull duty, not tourists. Anyway, _I'm_ -Chief Engineer here. Nobody comes in here 'less I like their looks." -Retief moved forward, stood looking down at the redhead. The little -man hesitated, then waved him past. "Lucky for you I like your looks." -Inside, Retief surveyed the long room, the giant converter units, the -massive busbars. Armed men--some in uniform, some in work clothes -or loud sport shirts--stood here and there. Other men read meters, -adjusted controls or inspected dials. - -"You've got more guards than workers," Retief said. "Expecting trouble?" - -The redhead bit the corner from a plug of spearmint. He glanced around -the plant. "Things is quiet now; but you never know." - -"Rather old-fashioned equipment isn't it? When was it installed?" - -"Huh? I dunno. What's wrong with it?" - -"What's your basic power source, a core sink? Lithospheric friction? -Sub-crustal hydraulics?" - -"Beats me, Mister. I'm the boss here, not a dern mechanic." - - * * * * * - -A gray-haired man carrying a clipboard walked past, studied a panel, -made notes, glanced up to catch Retief's eye, moved on. - -"Everything seems to be running normally," Retief remarked. - -"Sure. Why not?" - -"Records being kept up properly?" - -"Sure. Some of these guys, all they do is walk around looking at dials -and writing stuff on paper. If it was me, I'd put 'em to work." - -Retief strolled over to the gray-haired man, now scribbling before a -bank of meters. He glanced at the clipboard. - -_Power off at sunset. Tell Corasol_ was scrawled in block letters -across the record sheet. Retief nodded, rejoined his guard. - -"All right, Jake. Let's have a look at the communications center." - -Back in the car, headed west, Retief studied the blank windows of -office buildings, the milling throngs in beer bars, shooting galleries, -tattoo parlors, billiard halls, pinball arcades, bordellos and -half-credit casinos. - -"Everybody seems to be having fun," he remarked. - -Jake stared out the window. - -"Yeah." - -"Too bad you're on duty, Jake. You could be out there joining in." - -"Soon as the corporal gets things organized, I'm opening me up a place -to show dirty tri-di's. I'll get my share." - -"Meanwhile, let the rest of 'em have their fun, eh Jake?" - -"Look, Mister, I been thinking. Maybe you better gimme back that -kick-stick you taken outa my gun...." - -"Sorry, Jake; no can do. Tell me, what was the real cause of the -revolution? Not enough to eat? Too much regimentation?" - -"Naw, we always got plenty to eat. There wasn't none of that -regimentation up till I joined up in the corporal's army." - -"Rigid class structure, maybe? Educational discrimination?" - -Jake nodded. "Yeah, it was them schools done it. All the time trying -to make a feller do some kind of class. Big shots. Know it all. Gonna -make us sit around and view tapes. Figgered they was better than us." - -"And Sozier's idea was you'd take over, and you wouldn't have to be -bothered." - -"Aw, it wasn't Sozier's idea. He ain't the big leader." - -"Where does the big leader keep himself?" - -"I dunno. I guess he's pretty busy right now." Jake snickered. "Some of -them guys call themselves colonels turned out not to know nothing about -how to shoot off the guns." - -"Shooting, eh? I thought it was a sort of peaceful revolution. The -managerial class were booted out, and that was that." - -"I don't know nothing," Jake snapped. "How come you keep trying to get -me to say stuff I ain't supposed to talk about? You want to get me in -trouble?" - - * * * * * - -"Oh, you're already in trouble, Jake. But if you stick with me, I'll -try to get you out of it. Where exactly did the refugees head for? How -did they leave? Must have been a lot of them; I'd say in a city of this -size alone, they'd run into the thousands." - -"I don't know." - -"Of course, it depends on your definition of a big shot. Who's included -in that category, Jake?" - -"You know, the slick-talking ones; the fancy dressers; the guys that -walk around and tell other guys what to do. We do all the work and they -get all the big pay." - -"I suppose that would cover scientists, professional men, executives, -technicians of all sorts, engineers, teachers--all that crowd." - -"Yeah, them are the ones." - -"And once you got them out of the way, the regular fellows would have a -chance. Chaps that don't spend all their time taking baths and reading -books and using big words; good Joes that don't mind picking their -noses in public." - -"We got as much right as anybody--" - -"Jake, who's Corasol?" - -"He's--I don't know." - -"I thought I overheard his name somewhere." - -"Uh, here's the communication center," Jake cut in. - -Retief swung into a parking lot under a high blank facade. He set the -brake and stepped out. - -"Lead the way, Jake." - -"Look, Mister, the corporal only wanted me to show you the outside." - -"Anything to hide, Jake?" - -Jake shook his head angrily and stamped past Retief. "When I joined up -with Sozier, I didn't figger I'd be getting in this kind of mess." - -"I know, Jake. It's tough. Sometimes it seems like a fellow works -harder after he's thrown out the parasites than he did before." - -A cautious guard let Retief and Jake inside, followed them along -bright-lit aisles among consoles, cables, batteries of instruments. -Armed men in careless uniforms lounged, watching. Here and there a -silent technician worked quietly. - -Retief paused by one, an elderly man in a neat white coverall, with a -purple spot under one eye. - -"Quite a bruise you've got there," Retief commented heartily. "Power -failure at sunset," he added softly. The technician hesitated, nodded -and moved on. - -Back in the car, Retief gave Jake directions. At the end of three -hours, he had seen twelve smooth-running, heavily guarded installations. - -"So far, so good, Jake," he said. "Next stop, Sub-station Number Nine." -In the mirror, Jake's face stiffened. "Hey, you can't go down there--" - -"Something going on there, Jake?" - -"That's where--I mean, no. I don't know." - -"I don't want to miss anything, Jake. Which way?" - -"I ain't going down there," Jake said sullenly. - -Retief braked. "In that case, I'm afraid our association is at an end, -Jake." - -"You mean ... you're getting out here?" - -"No, you are." - -"Huh? Now wait a minute, Mister! The corporal said I was to stay with -you." - -Retief accelerated. "That's settled, then. Which way?" - - - IV - -Retief pulled the car to a halt two hundred yards from the periphery -of a loose crowd of brown-uniformed men who stood in groups scattered -across a broad plaza, overflowing into a stretch of manicured lawn -before the bare, functional facade of sub-station number Nine. In the -midst of the besieging mob, Sozier's red face and bald head bobbed as -he harangued a cluster of green-uniformed men from his place in the -rear of a long open car. - -"What's it all about, Jake?" Retief enquired. "Since the parasites have -all left peacefully, I'm having a hard time figuring out who'd be holed -up in the pumping station--and why. Maybe they haven't gotten the word -that it's all going to be fun and games from now on." - -"If the corporal sees you over here--" - -"Ah, the good corporal. Glad you mentioned him, Jake. He's the man to -see." Retief stepped out of the car and started through the crowd. A -heavy lorry loaded with an immense tank with the letter H blazoned on -its side trundled into the square from a side street, moved up to a -position before the building. A smaller car pulled alongside Sozier's -limousine. The driver stepped down, handed something to Sozier. A -moment later, Sozier's amplified voice boomed across the crowd. - -"You in there, Corasol! This is General Sozier, and I'm warning you to -come out now or you and your smart friends are in for a big surprise. -You think I won't blast you out because I don't want to wreck the -planet. You see the tank aboard the lorry that just pulled up? It's -full of gas--and I got plenty of hoses out here to pump it inside with. -I'll put men on the roof and squirt it in the ventilators." - -Sozier's voice echoed and died. The militiamen eyed the station. -Nothing happened. - -"I know you can hear me, damn you!" Sozier squalled. "You'd better get -the doors open and get out here fast!" - -Retief stepped to Sozier's side. "Say, Corporal, I didn't know you went -in for practical jokes." - -Sozier jerked around to gape at Retief. - -"What are you doing here!" he burst out. "I told Jake--where is that--" - -"Jake didn't like the questions I was asking," Retief said, "so he -marched me up here to report to you." - -"Jake, you damn fool!" Sozier roared. "I got a good mind--" - - * * * * * - -"I disagree, Sozier," Retief cut in. "I think you're a complete -imbecile. Sitting out here in the open yelling at the top of your -lungs, for example. Corasol and his party might get annoyed and spray -that fancy car you've swiped with something a lot more painful than -words." - -"Eh?" Sozier's head whipped around to stare at the building. - -"Isn't that a gun I see sticking out?" - -Sozier dropped. "Where?" - -"My mistake. Just a foreign particle on my contact lenses." Retief -leaned on the car. "On the other hand, Sozier, most murderers are -sneaky about it. I think making a public announcement is a nice gesture -on your part. The Monitors won't have any trouble deciding who to hang -when they come in to straighten out this mess." - -Sozier scrambled back onto his seat. "Monitors?" he snarled. "I -don't think so. I don't think you'll be around to do any blabbering -to anybody." He raised his voice. "Jake! March this spy over to the -sidelines. If he tries anything, shoot him!" He gave Retief a baleful -grin. "I'll lay the body out nice and ship it back to your cronies. -Accidents will happen, you know. It'll be a week or two before they get -around to following up--and by then I'll have this little problem under -control." - -Jake looked at Retief uncertainly, fingering his empty rifle. - -Retief put his hands up. "I guess you got me, Jake," he said. "Careful -of that gun, now." - -Jake glanced at Sozier, gulped, aimed the rifle at Retief and nodded -toward the car. As Retief moved off, a murmur swept across the crowd. -Retief glanced back. A turret on the station roof was rotating slowly. -A shout rose; men surged away from the building, scuffling for way; -Sozier yelled. His car started up, moved forward, horns blaring. As -Retief watched, a white stream arced up from the turret, catching the -sun as it spanned the lawn, plunged down to strike the massed men in a -splatter of spray. It searched across the mob, came to rest on Sozier's -car. Uniformed men scrambled for safety as the terrified driver gunned -the heavy vehicle. The hose followed the car, dropping a solid stream -of water on Sozier, kicking and flailing in the back seat. As the car -passed from view, down a side street, water was overflowing the sides. - -"The corporal will feel all the better for an invigorating swim in -his mobile pool," Retief commented. "By the way, Jake, I have to be -going now. It wouldn't be fair to send you back to your boss without -something to back up your story that you were outnumbered, so--" - -Retief's left fist shot out to connect solidly with Jake's jaw. Jake -dropped the gun and sat down hard. Retief turned and headed for the -pumping station. The hose had shut down now. A few men were standing, -eyeing the building anxiously. Others watched his progress across the -square. As Retief passed, he caught scattered comments: - -"--seen that bird before." - -"--where he's headed." - -"--feller Sozier was talking to...." - -"Hey, you!" - -Retief was on the grass now. Ahead, the blank wall loomed up. He walked -on briskly. - -"Stop that jasper!" a shout rang out. There was a sharp whine and a -black spot appeared on the wall ahead. Near it, a small personnel door -abruptly swung inward. Retief sprinted, plunged through the opening -as a second shot seared the paint on the doorframe. The door clanged -behind him. Retief glanced over the half dozen men confronting him. - -"I'm Retief, CDT, acting Charge," he said. "Which of you gentlemen is -Manager-General Corasol?" - - * * * * * - -Corasol was a tall, wide-shouldered man of fifty, with shrewd eyes, a -ready smile, capable-looking hands and an urbane manner. He and Retief -sat at a table at one side of the large room, under a maze of piping, -tanks and valves. Corasol poured amber fluid into square glass tumblers. - -"We spotted you by the blazer," he said. "Baby blue and gold braid -stand out in a crowd." - -Retief nodded. "The uniform has its uses," he agreed. He tried the -drink. "Say, what is this? It's not bad." - -"Sugarweed rum. Made from a marine plant. We have plenty of ocean here -on Glave; there's only the one continent, you know, and it's useless -for agriculture." - -"Weather?" - -"That's part of it. Glave is moving into what would be a major -glaciation if it weren't for a rather elaborate climatic control -installation. Then there are the tides. Half the continent would be -inundated twice a year when our satellite is at aphelion; there's -a system of baffles, locks and deep-water pumps that maintain the -shore-line more or less constant. We still keep our cities well inland. -Then there are the oxygen generators, the atmosphere filtration -complex, vermin control and so on. Glave in its natural state is a -rather hostile world." - -"I'm surprised that your mines can support it all." - -"Oh, they don't." Corasol shook his head. "Two hundred years ago, when -the company first opened up Glave, it was economical enough. Quintite -was a precious mineral in those days. Synthetics have long since -taken over. Even fully automated, the mines barely support the public -services and welfare system." - -"I seem to recall a reference in the Post Report to the effect that a -company petition to vacate its charter had been denied...." - -Corasol nodded, smiling wryly. "The CDT seemed to feel that as long -as any of the world's residents desired to remain, the Company was -constrained to oblige them. The great majority departed long ago, of -course. Relocated to other operational areas. Only the untrainables, -living off welfare funds--and a skeleton staff of single men to operate -the technical installations--have stayed on." - -"That explains the mechanics of the recent uprising," Retief said. - -The bottle clinked against glasses for a second round. "What about the -good corporal?" Retief asked. "Assuming he's a strong swimmer, you -should be hearing from him soon." - -Corasol glanced at his finger watch. "I imagine he'll be launching his -gas attack any minute." - -"The prospect doesn't seem to bother you." - -"Sozier is a clever enough chap in his own way," Corasol said. "But he -has a bad habit of leaping to conclusions. He's gotten hold of a tank -of what someone has told him is gas--as indeed it is. Hydrogen, for -industrial use. It seems the poor fellow is under the impression that -anything masquerading as gas will have a lethal effect." - -"He may be right--if he pumps it in fast enough." - -"Oh, he won't be pumping it. Not after approximately five minutes from -now." - -"Hmmm. I think I'm beginning to see the light. 'Power off at sunset.'" - -Corasol nodded. "I don't think he realizes somehow that all his -vehicles are operating off broadcast power." - -"Still, he has a good-sized crowd of hopefuls with him. How do you plan -to get through them?" - -"We don't. We go under. There's an extensive system of service ways -underlying the city; another detail which I believe has escaped the -corporal's notice." - -"You'll be heading for the port?" - -"Yes--eventually. First, we have a few small chores to see to. Sozier -has quite a number of our technical men working at gun point to keep -various services going." - -Retief nodded. "It won't be easy breaking them out. I made a fast tour -of the city this afternoon. Locked doors, armed guards--" - -"Oh, the locks are power-operated, too. Our fellows will know what to -do when the power fails. I think the sudden darkness will eliminate any -problem from the guards." - -The lights flickered and died. The whine of the turbines was suddenly -noticeable, descending. Faint cries sounded from outside. - -Corasol switched on a small portable lantern. "All ready, gentlemen?" -he called, rising. "Let's move out. We want to complete this operation -before dawn." - - * * * * * - -Four hours later, Retief stood with Corasol in a low-ceilinged tunnel, -white-tiled, brilliantly lit by a central glare strip, watching as the -last of the column of men released from forced labor in the city's -utilities installations filed past. A solidly-built man with pale blond -hair came up, breathing hard. - -"How did it go, Taine?" Corasol asked. - -"They're beginning to catch on, Mr. Corasol. We had a brisk time of it -at Station Four. Everybody's clear now. No one killed, but we had a few -injuries." - -Corasol nodded. "The last few crews in have reported trouble. Ah--what -about--" - -Taine shook his head. "Sorry, sir. No trace. No one's seen them. But -they're probably at the port ahead of us, hiding out. They'd know we'd -arrive eventually." - -"I suppose so. You sent word to them well in advance...." - -"Suppose I stand by here with a few men. We'll patrol the tunnels in -case they show up. We have several hours before daylight." - -"Yes. I'll go along and see to the preparations at Exit Ten. We'll make -our sortie at oh-five-hundred. If you haven't seen anything of them by -then...." - -"I'm sure they're all right." - -"They'd better be." Corasol said grimly "Let's be off, Retief." - -"If it's all the same to you, Mr. Manager-General, I'll stay here with -Taine. I'll join you later." - -"As you wish. I don't imagine there'll be any trouble--but if there is, -having a CDT observer along will lend a certain air to the operation." -He smiled, shook Retief's hand and moved off along the tunnel. The -echo of feet and voices grew faint, faded to silence. Taine turned to -the three men detailed to him, conversed briefly, sent them off along -branching corridors. He glanced at Retief. - -"Mr. Retief, you're a diplomat. This errand is not a diplomatic one." - -"I've been on a few like that, too, Mr. Taine." - -Taine studied Retief's face. "I can believe that," he said. "However, I -think you'd better rejoin the main party." - -"I might be of some use here, if your missing men arrive under fire." - -"Missing men?" Taine's mouth twisted in a sour smile. "You fail to -grasp the picture, Mr. Retief. There'll be no missing men arriving." - -"Oh? I understood you were waiting here to meet them." - -"Not men, Mr. Retief. It happens that Corasol has twin daughters, aged -nineteen. They haven't been seen since the trouble began." - - - V - -Half an hour passed. Retief leaned against the tunnel wall, arms -folded, smoking a cigar in silence. Taine paced, ten yards up the -corridor, ten yards back.... - -"You seem nervous, Mr. Taine," Retief said. - -Taine stopped pacing, eyed Retief coldly. "You'd better go along now," -he said decisively. "Just follow the main tunnel. It's about a mile." - -"Plenty of time yet, Mr. Taine." Retief smiled and drew on his cigar. -"Your three men are still out." - -"They won't be back here. We'll rendezvous at Exit Ten." - -"Am I keeping you from something, Taine?" - -"I can't be responsible for your safety if you stay here." - -"Oh? You think I might fall victim to an accident?" - -Taine narrowed his eyes. "It could happen," he said harshly. - -"Where were the girls last seen?" Retief asked suddenly. - -"How would I know?" - -"Weren't you the one who got word to them?" - -"Maybe you'd better keep out of this." - -"You sent your men off; now you're eager to see me retire to a safe -position. Why the desire for solitude, Taine? You wouldn't by any -chance have plans?" - -"That's enough," Taine snapped. "On your way. That's an order!" - -"There are some aspects of this situation that puzzle me, Mr. -Taine. Mr. Corasol has explained to me how he and his Division -Chiefs--including you--were surprised in the executive suite at -Planetary Central by a crowd of Sozier's bully-boys. They came in past -the entire security system without an alarm. Corasol and the others put -up a surprisingly good fight and made it to the service elevators--and -from there to the sub-station. There was even time to order an -emergency alert to the entire staff--but somehow, they were all caught -at their stations and kept on the job at gun point. Now, I should think -that you, as Chief of Security as well as Communications, should have -some ideas as to how all this came about." - -"Are you implying--" - -"Let me guess, Taine. You have a deal with Sozier. He takes over, -ousts the legal owners, and sets himself up to live off the fat of the -land, with you as his technical chief. Then, I imagine, you'd find it -easy enough to dispose of Sozier--and you'd be in charge." - - * * * * * - -Without warning Taine put his head down and charged. Retief dropped -his cigar, side-stepped and planted a solid right on Taine's jaw. He -staggered, went to his hands and knees. - -"I suppose you'd like to get word to Sozier that his work force is -arriving at the port at oh-five-hundred," Retief said. "Of course, -he'll want to have a good-sized reception committee on hand as they -come out." - -Taine plunged to his feet, threw a vicious left that went past Retief's -ear, then abruptly dropped, clamped a lock on Retief's leg, twisted-- - -The two men rolled, came to rest with Taine on top, Retief face-down, -his arm bent back and doubled. Taine, red-faced and puffing, grunted as -he applied pressure. - -"You know a lot about me," he grated, "but you overlooked the fact that -I've been Glavian Judo champion for the past nine years." - -"You're a clever man, Taine," Retief said between clenched teeth. "Too -clever to think it will work." - -"It will work. Glave's never had a CDT mission here before. We're too -small. Corasol invited your Embassy in because he had an idea there -was something in the wind. That forced my hand. I've had to move -hastily. But by the time I invite observers in to see for themselves, -everything will be running smoothly. I can even afford to let Corasol -and the others go--I'll have hostages for his good behavior." - -"You've been wanting to boast about it to someone who could appreciate -your cleverness, I see. Sozier must be an unappreciative audience." - -"Sozier's a filthy pig--but he had his uses." - -"What do you plan to do now?" - -"I've been wondering that myself--but I think the best solution is to -simply break your arm for now. You should be easy to control then. It's -quite simple. I merely apply pressure, thus...." - -"Judo is a very useful technique," Retief said. "But in order to make -it work, you have to be a pretty good man...." He moved suddenly, -shifting his position. Taine grabbed, holding Retief's arm by the wrist -and elbow, his own arm levering Retief's back, back.... Retief twisted -onto his side, then his back. Taine grunted, following the movement, -straining. Slowly, Retief sat up against Taine's weight. Then, with a -surge, he straightened his arm. Taine's grip broke. Retief came to his -feet. Taine scrambled up in time to meet a clean uppercut that snapped -him onto his back--out cold. - - * * * * * - -"Ah, there you are," Retief said as Taine's eyes fluttered and opened. -"You've had a nice nap--almost fifteen minutes. Feeling better?" - -Taine snarled, straining against the bonds on his wrists. - -"Gold braid has its uses," Retief commented. "Now that you're back, -perhaps you can answer a question for me. What's the Birthday Cake?" - -Taine spat. Retief went to stand over him. - -"Time is growing short, Mr. Taine. It will be dawn in another two -hours. I can't afford the luxury of coaxing you." - -"You won't get away with this." - -Retief looked at the glowing end of his cigar. "This won't be subtle, I -agree--but it will work." - -"You're bluffing." - -Retief leaned closer. "In my place--would you hesitate?" he asked -softly. - -Taine cursed, struggled to break free, eyes on the cigar. - -"What kind of diplomat are you?" he snarled. - -"The modern variety. Throat-cutting, thumb-screws, poison and stiletto -work were popular in Machiavelli's time; nowadays we go in more for the -administrative approach--but the cigar-end still has its role." - -"Look, we can come to an agreement--" - -"What's the Birthday Cake?" Retief snapped. - -"I'm in a position to do a lot for you!" - -"Last chance--" - -"It's the official Residence of the Manager-General!" Taine screeched, -writhing away from the cigar. - -"Where is it? Talk fast!" - -"You'll never get close! There's a seven-foot wall and by this time the -grounds are swarming with Sozier's men." - -"Nevertheless, I want to know where it is--and the information had -better be good. If I don't come back, you'll have a long wait." - -Taine groaned. "All right. Put that damned cigar away. I'll tell you -what I can...." - - * * * * * - -Retief stood in the shadow of a vine-grown wall, watching the relief -of the five-man guard detail at the main gate to the Residence -grounds. The bluish light of the Glavian satellite reflected from the -rain-pocked street, glinted from the leaves of a massive tree ten yards -from the gate. The chill in the air cut through Retief's wet clothes. -The men at the gate huddled, hands in pockets, coat collars turned up, -backs to the wind--and to Retief. He moved silently forward, caught a -low branch of the tree, pulled himself up. - -The men at the gate exchanged muttered remarks. One lit a cigarette. -Retief waited, then moved higher. The guards talked in low voices, -edged closer to the shelter of the gate-house. Retief lowered himself -onto the wall, dropped down onto the sodden lawn, crouched, waiting. -There was no alarm. - -Through the trees the dark shape of the house loomed up, its top storey -defiantly ablaze with lights. Retief moved off silently, from the -shadow of one tree to the next, swinging in an arc that would bring -him to the rear of the great round structure. He froze as the heavy -footfalls of one of Sozier's pickets slogged past five yards from him, -then moved on. The glow of a campfire flickered near the front of the -house. Retief could make out the shapes of men around it--a dozen or -two, at least. Probably as many more warmed themselves at each of the -other fires visible on the grounds--and most of the rest had doubtless -found dryer shelter in the lee of the house itself. - -Retief reached the conservatory at the rear of the house, studied the -dark path leading to the broad terrace, picked out the squat shape of -the utilities manifold behind a screen of shrubbery. So far, Taine's -information had been accurate. The next step was to-- - -There was a faint sound from high above, followed by a whoosh! Then -with a sharp crack! a flare appeared overhead, rocking gracefully, -floating down gently under a small parachute. Below it, inky shadows -rocked in unison. - -In the raw white light, Retief counted eighteen men clinging to -handholds on the side of the house, immobile in the pitiless glare. -Above them, a face appeared, then a second, peering over the edge of -the fourth-storey gallery. Both figures rose, unlimbering four-foot -bows, fitting arrows to strings-- - -_Whok! Whok!_ Two men lost their holds and fell, yelling, to slam into -the heavy shrubbery. A second flight of arrows found marks. Retief -watched from the shadows as man after man dropped to flounder in the -wet foliage. Several jumped before the deadly bows were turned on -them. As the flare faded, the last of the men plunged down to crash -among their fellows. Retief stepped out, ran swiftly to the manifold, -forcing his way among the close-growing screen, scrambled to its top. -His hand fell on a spent arrow. He picked it up. - -It was a stout wooden shaft twenty inches long, terminating in a rubber -suction cup. Retief snorted, dropped the arrow and started up. - - - VI - -Twenty feet above ground level, the wide windows of the third floor -sun terrace presented a precarious handhold as Retief swung back a -foot and kicked in a panel. Inside, he dimly made out the shape of a -broad carpeted room, curving out of sight in both directions. There -were wide-leaved tropical plants in boxes, groups of padded chairs, -low tables with bowls of fruit. Retief made his way past them, found -an inner door, went into a dark hall. At the far end, voices exchanged -shouted questions. Feet pounded. A flicker of light from a hand lantern -splashed across the wall, disappeared. Retief found a stair, went up -it noiselessly. According to Taine, the elevator to the top floor -apartment should be to the left-- - -Retief flattened himself to the wall. Footsteps sounded near at hand. -He moved quickly to a doorway. There was a murmur of voices, the -wavering light of lanterns. A party of uniformed men tiptoed past a -cross corridor, struggling under the weight of a massive log two feet -in diameter and twelve feet long. - -"... on signal, hit it all together. Then ..." someone was saying. - -Retief waited, listening. There was the creak of a door, the fumbling -of awkwardly laden feet on a stair, hoarse breathing, a muffled curse. - -"... got my fingers, you slob!" a voice snarled. - -"Shaddup!" another voice hissed. - -There was a long moment of silence, then a muffled command--followed -an instant later by a thunderous crash, a shout--cut off abruptly by -a ponderous _blam!_ followed instantly by a roar like a burst dam, -mingled with yells, thumps, crashes. A foamy wash of water surged along -the cross corridor, followed a moment later by a man sliding on his -back, then another, two more, the log, fragments of a door, more men. - -In the uproar, Retief moved along to the elevator, felt over the -control panel, located a small knurled button. He turned it. The panel -came away. He fumbled cautiously, found a toggle switch, flipped it. A -light sprang up in the car. Instantly Retief flipped the light switch; -the glow faded. He waited. No alarm. Men were picking themselves up, -shouting. - -"... them broads dropped a hundred-gallon bag of water ..." Someone -complained. - -"... up there fast, men. We got the door okay!" - -Feet thumped. Yells sounded. - -"No good, Wes! They got a safe or something in the way!" - -Retief silently closed the lift door, pressed the button. With a sigh, -the car slid upward, came to a gentle stop. He eased the door open, -looked out into a dim-lit entrance hall. Footsteps sounded beyond a -door. He waited; the clack of high heels crossing a floor. Retief -stepped out of the car, went to the door, glanced into a spacious -lounge with rich furniture, deep rugs, paintings, a sweep of glass, and -in an alcove at the far side, a bar. Retief crossed the room, poured a -stiff drink into a paper-thin glass and drained it. - -The high-heeled steps were coming back now. A door opened. Two leggy -young women in shorts, with red-gold hair bound back by ribbons--one -green, one blue--stepped into the room. One girl held a coil of -insulated wire; the other, a heavy-looking gray-enameled box eight -inches on a side. - -"Now, see if you can tinker that generator to get a little more juice, -Lyn," the girl with the wire said. "I'll start stringing...." - -Her voice died as she caught sight of Retief. He raised his glass. "My -compliments, ladies. I see you're keeping yourselves amused." - - * * * * * - -"Who ... who are you?" Lyn faltered. - -"My name's Retief. Your father sent me along to carry your bags. It's -lucky I arrived when I did, before any of those defenseless chaps -outside were seriously injured." - -"You're not ... one of them?" - -"Of course he's not, Lyn," the second girl said. "He's much too -good-looking." - -"That's good," Lyn said crisply. "I didn't want to have to use this -thing." She tossed a bright-plated 2 mm needler onto a chair and sat -down. "Dad's all right, isn't he?" - -"He's fine, and we've got to be going. Tight schedule, you know. And -you'd better get some clothes on. It's cold outside." - -Lyn nodded. "Environmental Control went off the air six hours ago. You -can already feel snow coming." - -"Don't you suppose we have time to just rig up one little old circuit?" -the other twin wheedled. "Nothing serious; just enough to tickle." - -"We planned to wire all the window frames, the trunk we used to block -the stair, the lift shaft--" - -"And then we thought we'd try to drop a loop down and pick up the -gallery guard rail, and maybe some of that wrought-iron work around the -front of the house--" - -"Sorry, girls; no time." - -Five minutes later, the twins were ready, wrapped in fur robes. Retief -had exchanged his soaked blazer for a down-lined weatherproof. - -"The lift will take us all the way down, won't it?" he asked. - -Lyn nodded. "We can go out through the wine cellar." - -Retief picked up the needler and handed it to Lyn. "Hang on to this," -he said. "You may need it yet." - - * * * * * - -A cold wind whipped the ramp as dawn lightened the sky. - -"It's hard to believe," Corasol said. "What made him do it?" - -"He saw a chance to own it all." - -"He can have it," Corasol's communicator beeped. He put it to his ear. -"Everything's ship-shape and ready to lift," a tiny voice said. - -Corasol turned to Retief. "Let's go aboard." - -"Hold it," Retief said. "There's someone coming." - -Corasol spoke into the communicator. "Keep him covered." - -The man slogging across the concrete was short, wrapped in heavy -garments. Over his head a white cloth fluttered from a stick. - -"From the set of those bat-ears, I'd say it was the good corporal." - -"I wonder what he wants." - -Sozier stopped twenty feet from Retief and Corasol. - -"I want to ... ah ... talk to you, Corasol," he said. - -"Certainly, General. Go right ahead." - -"Look here, Corasol. You can't do this. My men will freeze. We'll -starve. I've been thinking it over, and I've decided that we can reach -an understanding." - -Corasol waited. - -"I mean, we can get together on this thing. Compromise. Maybe I acted a -little hasty." Sozier looked from Corasol to Retief. "You're from the -CDT. You tell him. I'll guarantee his people full rights...." - -Retief puffed at his cigar in silence. Sozier started again. - -"Look, I'll give you a full voice in running things. A fifty-fifty -split. Whatta you say?" - -"I'm afraid the proposal doesn't interest me, General," Corasol said. - -"Never mind the General stuff," Sozier said desperately. "Listen, you -can run it. Just give me and my boys a little say-so." - -"Sorry." Corasol shook his head. "Not interested, General." - -"Okay, okay! You win! Just come on back and get things straightened -out! I got a belly full of running things!" - -"I'm afraid I have other plans, General. For some time I've wanted -to transfer operations to a world called Las Palmas on which we hold -a charter. It has a naturally delightful climate, and I'm told the -fishing is good. I leave Glave to the Free Electorate with my blessing. -Good-by, General." He turned to the ship. - -"You got to stay here!" Sozier howled. "We'll complain to the CDT! And -don't call me General! I'm a Corporal--" - -"You're a General now--whether you like it or not." Corasol said -bluntly. He shivered. There was a hint of ice in the air. "If you or -any of your men ever decide to go to work, General, I daresay we can -train you for employment on Las Palmas. In the meantime--Long Live the -Revolution!" - -"You can't do this! I'll sue!" - -"Calm down, Sozier," Retief said. "Go back to town and see if you can -get your radio working. Put in a call for Mr. Magnan aboard the CDT -vessel. Tell him your troubles. It will make his day. And a word of -advice: Mr. Magnan hates a piker--so ask for plenty." - - * * * * * - -"My boy, I'm delighted," Ambassador Sternwheeler boomed. "A highly -professional piece of work. A stirring testimonial to the value of the -skilled negotiator!" - -"You're too kind, Mr. Ambassador." Retief said, glancing at his watch. - -"And Magnan tells me that not only will the Mission be welcomed, and my -job secure for another year--that is, I shall have an opportunity to -serve--but a technical mission has been requested as well. I shall look -forward to meeting General Sozier. He sounds a most reasonable chap." - -"Oh, you'll like him, Mr. Ambassador. A true democrat, willing to share -all you have." - -Counsellor of Embassy Magnan tapped and entered the office. - -"Forgive the intrusion, Mr. Ambassador," he said breathlessly, "but I -must--" - -"Well, what is it, man? The deal hasn't gone sour?" - -"Oh, far from it! I've been exploring General Sozier's economic -situation with him via scope, and it seems he'll require a loan." - -"Yes, yes? How much?" - -Magnan inhaled proudly. "Twenty. Million. Credits." - -"No!" - -"Yes!" - -"Magnificent! Good lord, Magnan, you're a genius! This will mean -promotions all around. Why, the administrative load alone--" - -"I can't wait to make planetfall, Mr. Ambassador. I'm all a-bubble -with plans. I hope they manage to get the docking facilities back in -operation soon." - -"Help is on the way, my dear Magnan. I'm assured the Environmental -Control installations will be coming back in operation again within a -year or two." - -"My, didn't those ice-caps form quickly. And in the open sea." - -"Mere scum ice. As my Counsellor for Technical Affairs, you'll be in -charge of the ice-breaking operation once we're settled in. I imagine -you'll want to spend considerable time in the field. I'll be expecting -a record of how every credit is spent." - -"I'm more the executive type," Magnan said. "Possibly Retief--" - -A desk speaker hummed. "Mr. Corasol's lighter has arrived to ferry Mr. -Retief across to the Company ship...." - -"Sorry you won't be with us, Retief," Sternwheeler said heartily. He -turned to Magnan. "Manager-General Corasol has extended Retief an -exequatur as Consul General to Las Palmas." - - * * * * * - -Retief nodded. "Much as I'd like to be out in that open boat with you, -breaking ice, I'm afraid duty calls elsewhere." - -"Your own post? I'm not sure he's experienced enough, Mr. Ambassador. -Now, I--" - -"He was requested by name, Magnan. It seems the Manager-General's -children took a fancy to him." - -"Eh? How curious. I never thought you were particularly interested in -infant care, Retief." - -"Perhaps I haven't been, Mr. Magnan." Retief draped his short blue cape -over his left arm and turned to the door. "But remember the diplomat's -motto: be adaptable...." - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Governor of Glave, by Keith Laumer - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GOVERNOR OF GLAVE *** - -***** This file should be named 61459.txt or 61459.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/4/5/61459/ - -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. 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