recorded?”
“I have no idea. What if it is? The fact is, Mr. Ayres, that you can’t retain
Pell for the Company, you can’t protect it. You had your chance, and it’s gone.
And Pell doesn’t want Mazian. Better Union order than Mazian.”
“Tell that to my companions.”
“Pell,” Jacoby said, leaning forward, “deserves better than the Company can give
it. Better than Mazian will give it, that’s sure. I’m for our interest, Mr.
Ayres, and we deal as we must.”
“You could have dealt with us.”
“We did… for centuries.”
Ayres bit his lip, refusing to be drawn further into this argument. The drugs he
had to have for jump… fogged his thinking. He had already talked, and he had
resolved not to. They wanted something of him, or they would not have brought
him out of confinement and let him up onto this level of the ship. He leaned his
head against his hand and tried to reason himself out of his muzziness while
there was still time.
“We’re ready to go in.” Jacoby pursued him. “You know that.”
Jacoby was trying to frighten him. He had been prostrate with terror during the
last maneuvering. He had endured jump twice now, with the feeling that his guts
were twisted inside out. He refused to think of another one.
“I think they’re going to have a talk with you,” Jacoby said, “about a message
for Pell, something to the effect that Earth has signed a treaty; that Earth
supports the right of the citizens of Pell to choose their own government. That
kind of thing.”
He stared at Jacoby, doubting, for the first time, where right and wrong lay.
Jacoby was from Pell. Whatever Earth’s interests, those interests could not be
served by antagonizing a man who might, despite all wishes to the contrary, end
up high in the government on Pell.
“You’ll be interested, perhaps,” Jacoby said, “in agreements involving Pell
itself. If Earth doesn’t want to be cut off… and you protest it seeks trade… it
has to go through Pell, Mr. Ayres. We’re important to you.”
“I’m well aware of that fact. Talk to me when you are in authority over Pell.
Right now the authority on Pell is Angelo Konstantin, and I have yet to see
anything that says differently.”
“Deal now,” Jacoby said, “and expect agreement The party I represent can assure
you of safeguards for your interests. We’re a jumping-off point, Mr. Ayres, for
Earth and home. A quiet takeover on Pell, a quiet stay for you while you’re
waiting on your companions to overtake you, for a journey home in a ship easily
engaged here at Pell; or difficulties… prolonged difficulties, resulting from a
long and difficult siege. Damage… possibly the destruction of the station. I
don’t want that; I don’t think you do. You’re a humane man, Mr. Ayres. And I’m
begging you—make it easy on Pell. Just tell the truth. Make it clear to them
that there’s a treaty, that their choice has to be Union. That Earth has let
them go.”
“You work for Union. Thoroughly.”
“I want my station to survive, Mr. Ayres. Thousands upon thousands of people…
could die. You know what it is with Mazian using it for cover? He can’t hold it
forever, but he can ruin it.” Ayres sat staring at his hand, knowing that he
could not reason accurately in his present condition, knowing that most of what
he had been told in all his stay among them was a lie. “Perhaps we should work
together, Mr. Jacoby, if it can assure an end to this without further
bloodshed.”
Jacoby blinked, perhaps surprised.
“Probably,” Ayres said, “We are both realists, Mr. Jacoby… I suspect you of it.
Self-determination is a nice term for last available choice, is it not? I
comprehend your argument. Pell has no defenses. Station neutrality… meaning that
you go with the winning side.”
“You have it, Mr. Ayres.”
“So do I,” he said. “Order—in the Beyond—benefits trade, and that’s to the
Company’s interest. It was inevitable that independence would come out here.
It’s just come sooner than Earth was ready to understand. It would have been
acknowledged long ago if not for the blindness of ideologies. Brighter days, Mr.