had been avidly collecting from faked ESP tests. Zambendorf, who was sitting on
a fold-out chair in the narrow space by the door, looked from Massey to Price
and back again in bewilderment. Somehow they had gotten the idea into their
heads that he had not only allowed himself to be brought into the plot to turn
the Taloids into serfs, but that he had done so with enthusiasm, and they were
very distressed about it. So was Zambendorf—to find himself accused of being a
willing accomplice in the very thing that had been causing him so much concern.
“Okay, I know how you feel about a lot of today’s people,” Massey said, tossing
out his hands. “They’ve grown up in the twenty-first century, surrounded by
better opportunities for learning and education than anybody else in history,
and if they’re too dumb to take advantage of what they’ve got, it’s not your
problem. They had their choice. I might not share your view, but I can see your
point.” He waved a hand in front of his face. “But keeping the Taloids in a
state of deliberately imposed backwardness is different. They never had any
opportunity to know better. They don’t have the same choice. That’s all I’m
saying.”
Zambendorf blinked up at him and shook his head. “But—” he began.
“You must see that it’s the beginning of the same line that’s been used to keep
wealthy minorities in power and the people in their place all down through the
ages,” Vernon Price said. “Real knowledge is strictly for the elites; the masses
are fobbed off with superstition, nonsense, and hopes for a better tomorrow. New
technologies and anything that might lead toward genuine mass education and
prosperity are to be opposed. I know how you’ve made your living up until now,
but as Gerry says, at least those suckers had a choice and should have known
better. But with the Taloids it would be pure exploitation. You can’t do it.”
“FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!” Zambendorf exploded suddenly. The cabin became instantly
quiet. He gave a satisfied nod. “Thank you. Look, doesn’t it occur to either of
you that I just mightn’t have the faintest idea what in hell you’re talking
about?”
“Oh, come on, don’t give us that,” Massey said impatiently. “It’s the real
reason you were sent all the way to Titan. Who do you think you’re trying to
fool now? It’s obvious.”
“What is the real reason I was sent all the way to Titan?” Zambendorf asked,
more baffled than ever but genuinely curious.
“Because a big-name cult leader like you can influence a lot of public
thinking,” Price said. “You’re GSEC’s lever into the congressional policymaking
machine.” Zambendorf shook his head and looked back at Massey.
Massey frowned down at him but seemed less sure of himself, “That’s why our
society tolerates so many zany cults and crackpot religions, isn’t it,” he said.
“Why?” Zambendorf asked.
“A politician can net a lot of votes for a small amount of effort by saying nice
things about a guru who’s got ten thousand disciples so brainwashed that they’ll
do anything he tells them,” Massey said. “Or at least, if he’s smart he doesn’t
say anything that might get them upset about him. So the guys who run the cults
continue to get away with murder, and nobody bothers them very much. The
business they’re really in is selling blocks of controlled votes and molded
public opinion in return for political favors and protection.” He gave
Zambendorf a long, penetrating look, as if to say that none of this should need
spelling out, and then moved around the end of the bunks to pour himself coffee
from the pot by the sink.
Vernon Price completed what Massey had been saying. “To a lot of very
influential people, the political and economic implications of Titan’s being up
for grabs must add up to a crucial situation, which they knew long before the
mission left Earth . . .” He spread his hands briefly. “And we all know that
such people can make very attractive offers when it suits them.”
“You think that I knew what the mission’s purpose was all along?” Zambendorf