Gordon R. Dickson – Dorsai

“You don’t mince words,” he said.

“I’m not that kind of man,” said Donal, with a slight swagger in his tone. “You should have expected me to see through this scheme of yours. You want supreme authority. Very well. Give me one of the worlds—under you.”

“And if I was to give you a world,” said William. “Which one?”

“Any fair size world.” Donal licked his lips. “Well, why not New Earth?”

William laughed. Donal stiffened.

“We’re getting nowhere,” said Donal. He stood up. “Thank you for the lunch.” He turned and headed for the exit from the lounge.

“Wait!”

He turned to the sound of William’s voice. The other man was also on his feet; and he came toward Donal.

“I’ve underestimated you again,” said William. “Forgive me.” He placed a detaining hand on Donal’s arm. “The truth is, you’ve only anticipated me. Indeed, I’d intended you to be something more than a hired soldier. But … all this is in the future,” he shrugged. “I can hardly do more than promise you what you want.”

“Oh,” said Donal. “Something more than a promise. You could give me a contract, confirming me as the supreme authority on New Earth.”

William stared at him and this time he did laugh, loudly and long.

“Donal!” he said. “Excuse me … but what good would a contract like that be?” He spread his arms wide. “Some day New Earth may be mine to write you a contract for. But now—?”

“Still, you could write it. It would serve as a guarantee that you mean what you say.”

William stopped laughing. His eyes narrowed.

“Put my name to a piece of writing like that?” he said. “What kind of a fool do you take me for?”

Donal wilted a little under the angry contempt in the older man’s voice.

“Well … at least draw up such a contract,” he said. “I suppose I couldn’t expect you to sign it. But … at least I’d have something.”

“You have something that could possibly cause me some slight embarrassment,” said William. “I hope you realize it’d do nothing more than that—in me face of my denial of ever having discussed the matter with you.”

“I’d feel more secure if the terms were laid out ahead of time”,” said Donal, almost humbly. William shrugged, not without a touch of scorn.

“Come on then,” he said; and led the way across the room to a desk. He pressed a stud on it and indicated a grille. “Dictate,” he said.

Later, leaving William’s suite of rooms with the unsigned contract in his pocket, Donal came out into the general hotel corridor outside so swiftly that he almost trod upon the heels of Anea, who seemed also to be leaving.

“Where away?” he said. She turned on him.

“None of your business!” she snapped; but an expression which the inescapable honesty of her face would not permit her to hide, aroused his sudden suspicions. He reached out swiftly and caught up her right hand, which was clenched.into a fist. She struggled, but he lifted the fingers easily back. Tucked into the nest of her palm was a tiny contact snooper mike.

“You will continue to be a fool,” he said, wearily, dropping her hand with the mike still in it. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to confirm my opinion of your she hissed.

“Bring that opinion to the next session of the Conference, if you can get in,” he said. And went off. She stared after him, shaken with a fury, and a sudden pain of betrayal for which she could find no ready or sensible explanation.

She had, she told herself through that afternoon and the evening that followed, no intention of watching the next session personally. Early the next morning, however, she found herself asking Gait if he would get her a visitor’s pass to the Conference room.

The marshal was obliged to inform her that at William’s request, this session of the Conference was to be a closed one. He promised, however, to bring her what news he could; and she was forced to rest uneasily content with that.

As for Gait, himself, he went on to the Conference, arriving some few minutes late and discovering that the session had already started. William himself had begun the proposal of a plan that made the Dorsai Marshal of Freiland stiffen to attention, even as he was sitting down on his float at the Conference table.

“… To be established by a vote of this body,” William was saying. “Naturally,” he smiled, “our individual governments will have to ratify later, but we all know that to be pretty much a formality. A supraplanetary controlling body—having jurisdiction over trade and contracts, only—in conjunction with a general establishment of the open market, satisfies the requirements of all our members. Also, once this is out of the way, there should be no reason why we should not call upon the present insurgent government of New Earth to resign in favor of the previous, regular government. And I expect that if we call with a united voice, the present heads of state there will yield to our wishes.” He smiled around the table. “I’m open for questions and objections, gentlemen.”

“You said,” spoke up Project Blaine, in his soft, precise voice, “something about a supranational armed force which would enforce the rulings of this controlling body. Such an armed force is, of course, contrary to our principles of individual worldrights. I would like to say right now that I hardly think we would care to support such a force and allow it such freedom if a commander inimical to our interests was at its head. In short—”

“We have no intention of subscribing to a commander other than one with a thorough understanding of our own principles and rights,” interrupted Arjean, of St. Marie, all but glaring at the Venusian. Gait’s shaggy brows shot together in a scowl.

There was something entirely too pat about the way these two had horned in. He started to look over at Donal for confirmation of this suspicion but William’s voice drew his attention back to the Cetan.

“I understand, of course,” said William. “However, I think I have the answer to all of your objections.” He smiled impersonally at all of them. “The top commanders, as you know, are few. Each one has various associations which might make him objectionable to some one or more of the delegates here. In the main, I would say nothing more than a professional soldier. The prime examples of this, of course, are our Dorsal—”

The glances around the table swung quickly in on Gait, who scowled back to hide his astonishment

“… The Marshal of Freiland would, therefore, because of his position in his profession and between the stars, be our natural choice. But—” William barely got the word out in time to stifle objections that had begun to voice themselves from several points around the table, “Ceta recognizes that because of the marshal’s long association with Freiland, some of you may not welcome him in such a position. We’ re therefore proposing another man entirely—equally a Dorsai, but one who is young enough and recently enough on the scene to be considered free of political prejudice—I refer to the Protector of Procyon, Donal Graeme.”

He gestured at Donal and sat down.

A babble of voices broke out all at once, but Donal was on his feet, looking tall, and slim, and remarkably young amongst the group of them. He stood, waiting, and the voices finally died down.

“I won’t keep you for more than a minute,” said Donal, looking around at them. “I agree thoroughly with Prince William’s compromise solution to the problem of this Conference; because I most heartily believe the worlds do need a watchdog over them to prevent what’s just now taken place, from happen- ing.” He paused, and looked around the table again. “You see, honored as I am by Prince William’s nomination, I can’t accept because of something which just recently came into my hands. It names no names, but it promises things which will be a revelation to all of us. I also will name no names, but I would guess however that if this is a sample of what’s going on, there are probably half a dozen other such writings being traded around.”

He paused to let this sink in.

“So, I hereby refuse the nomination. And, further, I’m now withdrawing as a Delegate from this Conference in protest against being approached in this manner. I could not accept such a post or such a responsibility except with perfectly clean hands and no strings attached. Good-by, gentlemen.”

He nodded to them and stepped back from their stunned silence. About to turn toward the exit, he stopped and pulled from his pocket the unsigned and nameless contract he had received from William the previous day. “Oh, by the way,” he said. “This is the matter I was talking about. Perhaps you’d all like to look it over.”

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