“Implanted—what does that mean?”
“They’ve got missiles they can slam right through an unarmored hull. These smash through into the guts of the ship, and go off in a set time-interval unless the missile officer shuts off the timing device. We’ve just been warned these missiles will go off in ten minutes. There’s a Space Force colonel on the screen talking to the captain now.”
Krojac could feel his head spin. “I’ll talk to him.”
Krojac used on Doyle every device of word and manner to force some slight concession, or at least to gain a little time.
Doyle refused to yield an inch.
Krojac’s captains surrendered their ships.
The ships were boarded and methodically searched, including Krojac’s private quarters.
* * *
“Well,” said Sheaster, “now do you say he’ll run away? I tell you, you don’t bribe this kind and you don’t scare him. Pull a gun on him, and you better shoot it.”
“Are we dead?” said Krojac. “How could we know what he’d do without trying it? My ships surrendered to him—so what? The only charge he has against us is that we ‘behaved in a menacing way,’ or some such thing. I never said we were going to fight him.”
“But where are we now?” said Sheaster.
“In a tough spot. Well, we’d have been in just as tough a spot if we’d said, ‘Yes, sir,’ when the first order came in. I don’t aim to fold up just because somebody gives a threat. If they’re going to fold me up, they’re going to have to do the work. I won’t do it for them.”
Reagan said, “What about the work crews on the planet? Do we call them back up?”
“No. Have them go ahead.”
“But—”
“But what? That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? Doyle stops here and the work crews go ahead, we win.”
“With all the power Doyle has on tap—”
“It isn’t enough that he’s got the power. He’s got to use it.”
Reagan looked dazed. “The work crews go ahead?”
“That’s right. No delay.”
Reagan sent down the order.
The work crews promptly started out with their earth-moving machines.
Doyle with equal promptness set down a troop transport, and armed men blocked the earth-moving machines.
Krojac’s tough work-crew chiefs obeyed orders and drove straight at the troops, ignoring commands to stop.
Doyle’s troops fired warning shots over their heads.
Krojac’s men ignored the warning and slammed straight ahead.
Doyle’s troops lowered their guns, and opened fire on the machines themselves. Then, and only then, was Krojac stopped.
“All right,” he said, “they’ve stopped us. But never forget. They did it. We didn’t. We have nothing to be ashamed of. If you do your best, that’s good enough.”
“Nevertheless, we’re stopped,” said Reagan.
“O.K., but if I get licked, I want the other side to carry a few memories away. Now, what we’ve got to do is to find some way out. What’s going to happen here? What’s the setup? Is Doyle bought? Did Reed & Osborne get to him?”
“No,” said Sheaster. “I keep trying to tell you, you don’t buy that kind. They aren’t for sale.”
“Even with what Reed & Osborne have got?”
“Not if Reed & Osborne had ten times as much.”
Krojac frowned. “But they’ve got Lindell?”
“That I don’t know. I thought so. Now I don’t know. That he called Doyle in so fast doesn’t exactly fit. Well . . . who knows? Maybe he’s honest.”
Krojac said exasperatedly, “How do you deal with honest men? You can’t predict what they’re going to do.” He thought a minute. “All right, we’ll train more work crews, and put the ships to work improvising more equipment. If Doyle and Lindell are honest, anything might happen.”
The screen came on. “Sir, we’ve just got word there’s an advanced linguistics computer, the LC-10,000, already on its way. It should get here tomorrow.”
“What’s the object of that?”
“If the locals have a complex language, then Lindell can rule that there’s an anomalous situation here that needs further study—in that the natives have some advanced characteristics and some primitive characteristics. Then he can put the planet in the ‘Unclassified’ category and delay exploitation of it.”
“Well, that fits. Let me know if anything more comes in.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well,” said Krojac, “that’s a nice, neat trap. That could really string the thing out.”
Reagan scowled. “What do they do if this computer doesn’t cooperate?”
Krojac shook his head. “We’ll go nuts trying to figure this out. How do you bribe a computer? Forget it. Get going on the work crews.”
The next day, the situation took a series of twists none of them would have thought possible.
First, the infallible computer announced that the “speech” of the natives was nothing more than “simple repetitive syllables.” This knocked the props out from under Lindell.
Second, the Space Force colonel, Doyle, walked over to a group of natives and succeeded in getting them to understand him.
Third, Lindell, himself stupefied by this development, let it be known that the natives appeared to communicate by “visual telepathy,” by which he meant that they were able to transfer mental pictures to each other’s minds, and had actually been able, though it was evidently a strain, to “talk” this way with humans. Lindell could now put the planet in the Unclassified category, and there was no predicting when it would get out of that category.
Fourth, the natives, communicating with Lindell, let it be known that they were agreeable to having the rest-and-refit center on the planet, providing they negotiated directly with the center’s head man—who was Krojac.
Fifth, Krojac, gathering himself together after these jolts and surprises, went down to the planet and drove a bargain with the natives, who agreed to a reasonable rent, but flatly refused to allow permanent human settlement on the planet. Krojac, resorting to every subterfuge he could think of, managed to get the contract officially signed, with two tricky clauses in it.
Sixth, having got back up to his ship, Krojac began to plan how to use these clauses. At once, his ears began to ring, his hands and feet went numb, and everything went black.
The first time this happened, Krojac gave it up for a while. But he tried again. And again. With the same results.
The next day, Krojac tried once more. The same thing happened. He called Doyle on the screen, and Doyle was interested, but had no answer. Krojac decided he had enough delay, and went to work to plan in earnest exactly what to do. When the dizziness came, he didn’t stop.
This time, the effect was brutally powerful. It was after that, that Krojac paced the floor, unwilling to let his followers see his pale shaken facial expression. And it was then that he got Reagan on the screen to go over what had happened the day before.
Finally, Reagan, who still knew nothing of Krojac’s dizziness, said, “But look, Nels, you’ve saved the situation with that contract. The cats may not like it, but that’s not our worry. If they stop the colonists, we can get the Space Force in on our side.”
“There’s a little catch.” Krojac explained what had happened.
Reagan stared at him. “Then we’re stopped again?”
“It looks like it. I can’t even think of letting those clauses be invoked, or it hits me.”
Reagan shook his head. “Then we’re still in the same position as before. What is it—a jinx?”
“I don’t know. But we’ve got to do something. Listen, I’ll call you back in a little while. I’ve got to think.”
Krojac shut off the screen. For a moment, he found himself struggling with a host of doubts. Had he made the move too soon? Wasn’t he just a second-rate trying to puff himself up into a first-rate? Who was he to head the enterprise? Did he have, for instance, Reagan’s financial know-how, or Sheaster’s knowledge of people?
But the answers were right there. He had to move. It was now or never, because Reed & Osborne was moving in by calculated stages. As for whether he was first- or second-rate, he didn’t have to think about that. The situation would answer that question. Any time he spent stewing over it would only influence the answer in the wrong direction. It was true that Reagan knew more about money, and Sheaster knew more about people—look how Sheaster had foreseen Doyle’s reactions—but Krojac couldn’t picture either of them at the head of the business.
Frowning, he wandered around the room as thoughts passed into and out of his field of consciousness. He thought about Sheaster, Doyle, Reed & Osborne, the creatures down on the planet, Reagan, the loans coming due, the colonists who would soon pass through here in a growing stream, and by some process of association, he was thinking of Sheaster’s tycoon father, J. Harrison Sheaster.
“That kid of mine,” the elder Sheaster had growled, “could make a hundred billion if he wanted to, but instead he thinks about higher things: The Law. But if that’s what he’s so interested in, I can’t change it. The rule in business is—Get people what they want. That means you’ve first got to find out what they want, and second, find somebody to supply it. That’s basic. Well, if the kid doesn’t want it, isn’t interested, I might as well save my breath. People think it’s genius or will-power when somebody blasts his way to the top. They can’t see that underneath it all, it’s interest. Interest comes first.”