“I saw none,” the Herald said blankly.
“You wondered why I was in such haste to get off Lyra, and why I wouldn’t leave Elwon, there. It is because our Vegan gems were most unusual gems. I am not a technical man, but I understand they are actual gems which were treated to produce a certain effect at just about this time.”
Blackbeard glanced at his wrist chronometer and said dreamily: “Lyra is getting metal. Wherever there is one of our gems, pottery is decomposing into its constituent alumi-
num, silicon, and oxygen. Fluxes and glazes are decomposing into calcium, zinc, barium, potassium, chromium, and iron. Buildings are crumbling, pants are dropping as ceramic belt-buckles disintegrate—”
“It means chaos!” protested Alen.
“It means civilization and peace. An ugly clash was in the making.” Blackboard paused and added deliberately: “Where neither their property nor their honor is touched, most men live content.”
” The Prince’, Chapter 19. You are—”
“There was another important purpose to the voyage,” said the trader, grinning. “You will be interested in this.” He handed Alen a document which, unfolded, had the seal of the College and Order at its head.
Alen read hi a daze: “Examiner 19 to the Rector—final clearance of Novice—”
He lingered pridefully over the paragraph that described how he had “with coolness and great resource” foxed the battle cruiser of the Realm, “adapting himself readily in a delicate situation requiring not only physical courage but swift recall, evaluation and application of a minor planetary culture.”
Not so pridefully he read: “—-inclined towards pomposity of manner somewhat ludicrous in one of his years, though not unsuccessful in dominating the crew by his bearing—”
And: “—highly profitable disposal of our gems; a feat of no mean importance since the College and Order must, after all, maintain itself.”
And: “—cleared the final and crucial hurdle with some mental turmoil if I am any judge, but did clear it. After some twenty years of indoctrination in unrealistic non-violence, the youth was confronted with a situation where nothing but violence would serve, correctly evaluated this, and applied violence in the form of a truncheon to the head of a Lyran signal officer, thereby demonstrating an ability to learn and common sense as precious as it is rare.”
And, finally, simply: “Recommended for training.”
“Training?” gasped Alen. “You mean there’s more?” “Not for most, boy. Not for most. The bulk of us are what we seem to be: oily, gun-shy, indispensable adjuncts to trade
who feather our nest with percentages. We need those percentages and we need gun-shy Heralds.”
Alen recited slowly: “Among other evfls which being unarmed brings you, it causes you to be despised.**
“Chapter 14,” said blackboard mechanically. “We leave such clues lying by their bedsides for twenty yean, never notice them. For the few of us who
“Will I learn to throw a knife like you?” asked Aka. impelled and fascinated at once by the idea.
“On your own time, if you wish. Mostly h*s ethics aad morals so you’ll be able to weigh the values of such things at knife-throwing.”
“Ethics! Morals!”
“We started as missionaries, you know.”
“Everybody knows that. But the Great Utilitarian Reform
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“Some of us,” said blackboard dryly, “think it was neither great, nor utilitarian, nor a reform.”
It was a staggering idea. “But we’re spreading utilitarian civilization!” protested Alen. “Or if we’re not, what’s the sense of it all?”
Blackboard told him: “We have our different motives. One is a sincere utilitarian; another is a gambler—happy when he’s in danger and his pulses are pounding. Another is proud and likes to trick people. More than a few conceive themselves as servants of mankind. I’ll let you rest for a bit now.” He rose.
“But you?” asked Alen hesitantly.
“Me? You will find me in Chapter Twenty-Six,” grinned blackbeard. “And perhaps you’ll find someone else.” He closed the door behind him.
Alen ran through the chapter in his mind, puzzled, until— that was it.
It had a strange and inevitable familiarity to it as if he had always known that he would be saying it aloud, welcomingly, hi this cramped cubicle aboard a battered starship:
“God is not willing to do everything, and thus take away our free will and that share of glory which belongs to us.”