“Actually, Petaybee’s extremely hospitable, if you’re willing to take the hospitality on its own terms,” Clodagh told him. To Dr. Fiske she added, “Petaybee offers you more than you could ever take from it by force. This doesn’t have to be a fight.”
“That’s right,” Yana said, leaning forward and talking with all the persuasion at her command. “The company’s just been trying to develop the wrong things so far. This planet offers absolutely unique opportunities to study its inner life-providing you can find some extremely dedicated people able for the challenge. And that’s the resource the company most needs to develop-the people.”
“I suppose we could send scientists down to instruct them in the proper procedure,” Dr. Fiske said slowly.
“You send them,” Clodagh said, nodding. “We’ll teach proper procedure. But you’ll see, it will work.”
“We’ll send equipment-comm units, computer linkups.”
“Some maybe,” Clodagh said. “But not too many. Too noisy. Petaybee wouldn’t like it. Just send a couple of teachers who don’t mind the cold and can teach us reading and writing. That’s quieter.”
Just then the guard returned with the comm link Torkel had sent for. Torkel accepted the equipment and set it on his knees.
“Now then, we’ll see what’s going on here,” he said. “Computer, I want files on O’Shay …”
“Richard Arnaluk, sir,” O’Shay helpfully provided.
“And Greene …”
“John Kevin Intiak Greene the Third, sir,” Greene told him. “My crew members were Corporal Winona Sorenson, deceased, Specialist Fourth Class Ingunuk J. Keelaghan, deceased, Lieutenant Michael Huyukchuk, wounded in action-”
“Wait a minute,” Torkel said. “These names sound Petaybean.”
O’Shay shrugged. “They are-native-born or Petaybean stock. Same’s true, I think, for most of the replacement troops shipped down with me. And the survivors we picked up near the volcano.”
“Computer, access personnel list for troops transferred to planet Petaybee, code name Operation Mop-Up. Cross-reference by planet of origin or descent and provide statistical data of composition of total numbers.”
After a moment of frantically scanning the screen, Torkel looked up suspiciously at Scan. “This can’t be right. Unless your planet can manipulate troop movements by remote control.” “Why? What does it say?”
“Eighty-eight percent of the troops deployed here for Mop-Up are of Petaybean origin.”
Scan gave a low whistle. “Imagine that. I didn’t know we’d sent so many people away. Did you, Clodagh?” “I sure didn’t.”
“Computer, audio, please. Explain how such a large percentage of personnel assigned to Operation Mop-Up are of local origin.”
“This system cross-indexed physical and psychological requirements necessary for ground duty on an arctic-type planet. The personnel selected were the best qualified to function at appropriate levels on such a planet.”
“Torkel,” Yana said, leaning forward and slightly to the side to watch the screen. “While we’re on the subject of the quantity of Petaybean troops involved, why don’t you check statistical data concerning the service records of those with Petaybee as planet of origin as compared to those of the corps as a whole?”
“Computer?” Torkel asked, and gave it the data request.
“Petaybean personnel on the average receive seventy-five percent more commendations, sixty percent more bonuses, and eighty-nine percent more decorations than troops of other places of origin. However, they are promoted through the ranks ten point five times slower than other personnel, and only twenty-one point eight-nine-five percent of Petaybeans become senior officers.
Yana lifted her eyebrows at Torkel and permitted herself a small, smug smile. “See? These people are definitely worthwhile to the company, and definitely worth developing.”
Torkel raised an eyebrow back at her. “As long as they’re never removed from the planet to do what they’re worth developing for?”
Sean broke in. “Many of our people are perfectly happy to serve the company and see the universe. You just have to recruit them early.”
“And I think if the company worked with Petaybeans on the research, compensatory devices could be used to offset the incompatibility between Petaybean adaptive characteristics and space travel,” Yana said. “That is what I was trying to tell you before.”
Torkel shut down the comm link with a snap, and Sean grinned broadly.
“It’s okay, son,” Dr. Fiske told Torkel.
But Torkel shook his head uneasily. “It’s not okay, Dad. We’re in an intolerable situation, disadvantaged. There’re not only more of them, they’re the company’s best troops but, being here, their loyalty is compromised. We’re at their mercy.”