Mr. Kiku had not made up his mind about the current Secretary, but was not now thinking about him. Instead he was looking over the top-sheet synopsis for Project Cerberus, a power proposal for the research station on Pluto. A reminder light on his desk flashed and he looked up to see the door between his office and that of the Secretary dilate. The Secretary walked in, whistling Take Me Out to the Ball Game; Mr. Kiku did not recognize the tune.
He broke off. “Greetings, Henry. No, don’t get up.”
Mr. Kiku had not started to get up. “How do you do, Mr. Secretary? What can I do for your”
“Nothing much, nothing much.” He paused by Mr. Kiku’s desk and picked up the project folder. “What are you swotting now? Cerberus, eh? Henry, that’s an engineering matter. Why should we worry about it?”
“There are aspects,” Mr. Kiku answered carefully, “that concern us.”
“I suppose so. Budget and so forth.” His eye sought the bold-faced line reading: ESTIMATED COST: 3.5 megabucks and 7.4 lives. “What’s this? I can’t go before the Council and ask them to approve this. It’s fantastic.”
“The first estimate,” Mr. Kiku said evenly, “was over eight megabucks and more than a hundred lives.”
“I don’t mind the money, but this other. . . You are in effect asking the Council to sign death warrants for seven and four-tenths men: You can’t do that, it isn’t human. Say, what the deuce is four-tenths of a man anyway? How can you kill a fraction of a man?”
“Mr. Secretary,” his subordinate answered patiently, “any project bigger than a schoolyard swing involves probable loss of life. But that hazard factor is low; it means that working on Project Cerberus will be safer, on the average, than staying Earthside. That’s my rule of thumb.”
“Eh?” The Secretary looked again at the synopsis. “Then why not say so? Put the thing in the best light and so forth?”
“This report is for my eyes. . . for our eyes, only. The report to the Council will emphasize safety precautions and will not include an estimate of deaths-which, after all, is a guess.”
“Mmm, ‘a guess.’ Yes, of course.” The Secretary put the report down, seemed to lose interest.
“Anything else, sir?”
“Oh, yes! Henry, old man, you know that Rargyllian dignitary I am supposed to receive today? Dr. What’s-his-name?”
“Dr. Ftaeml.” Mr. Kiku glanced at his desk control panel. “Your appointment is, uh, an hour and seven minutes from now.”
“That’s just it. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to substitute. Apologies to him and so forth. Tell him I’m tied up with affairs of state.”
“Sir? I wouldn’t advise that. He will expect to be received by an official of your rank. . . and the Rargyllians are extremely meticulous about protocol.”
“Oh, come now, this native won’t know the difference.”
“But he will, sir.”
“Well, let him think that you’re me. . . I don’t care. But I won’t be here and that’s that The Secretary General has invited me to go to the ball game with him-and an invitation from the S. C. is a ‘must,’ y’know.”
Mr. Kiku knew that it was nothing of the sort, had the commitment been expained. But he shut up. “Very well, sir.”
‘Thanks, old chap.” The Secretary left, again whistling.
When the door closed, Mr. Kiku with an angry gesture slapped a row of switches on the desk paneL He was locked in now and could not be reached by phone, video, tube, autowriter, or any other means, save by an alarm button which his own secretary had used only once in twelve years. He leaned elbows on his desk, covered his head with his hands and rubbed his fingers through his woolly pate.
This trouble, that trouble, the other trouble. . . and always some moron to jiggle his elbowl Why had he ever left Africa? Where came this itch for public service? An itch that had long, since turned into mere habit. . .
He sat up and opened his middle drawer. It was bulging with real estate prospectuses from Kenya; he took out a handful and soon was comparing relative merits of farms. Now here was a little honey, if a man had the price-better than eight hundred acres, half of it in cultivation, and seven proved wells on the property. He looked at map and photographs and presently felt better. After a while he put them away and closed the drawer.
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