The Problem Makers Page 9
By some miracle, Luke outdistanced those pursuing him, crashing intothe cover. The natives followed a few yards, then gave up the chase,heading back to the easier sport on the beach.
Luke tripped over an exposed root and crashed to the ground. He triedto get up again, but his injured arm refused to support him. Closinghis eyes, he waited for the fatal blow to fall.
Several minutes passed, during which Luke recited every prayer he hadever heard, to every conceivable deity in the pantheon. At the end ofthat time, he realized that he wasn't going to die after all--at least,not here and now. Rolling over onto his good arm, he sat up and got hisback against a tree. From the beach came screams of terror, growingfainter as he listened and finally dying away altogether. Bracing hisgood arm against a tree, he worked himself up, got himself oriented andstarted back towards the copter.
The pilot threw away his cigarette and dropped out of the door to thecargo hold when Luke came limping into view.
”My God, man! What happened?”
”I ... made a mistake.” He let himself be helped into the copter andtook the mike, reporting the disaster on the beach to the Commandantback at Base. Then he let the pilot bandage his wounds.
* * * * *
”Eleven men dead,” he said bitterly.
”Don't take it so hard, Luke,” said Andy Singer. The team Commanderswere back in the debriefing room again. All had commiserated with Lukeon the tragedy; none had been able to convince him that it had not beenhis fault.
”Eleven men dead,” he repeated, no matter what they said.
The commandant came in and they rose. ”At ease, gentlemen,” he said, ashe mounted the platform. He stared at them for a thirty-second eternity.
”Ours is not an easy task.” His words broke the tension; all sighed.
”There has been a tragic accident, gentlemen. Good men have died. Menjust as good have died on a thousand planets in a thousand differentways. Sometimes they died because of an error; sometimes the death wasunavoidable. But for whatever reason, they did not die in vain!
”This is a young planet,” he continued. ”In many ways, it's as near toparadise as any of us will ever see. Man is a young race here--youngin development. Yet almost before he has a chance to prove himself,he has found himself in a backwater, stymied as it were by the veryparadise qualities which attract us. Life is easy here, too easy. Hedoesn't have to exert himself. He lives much like his ancestors did,ten thousand years ago.
”There is no future in standing still. Whether he likes it or not,man must develop, must give the future generations a chance for theirplace in the sun. Despite sentimentality, anything that gives them thatchance is good. Therefore, I repeat: eleven men died here yesterday._They did not die in vain!_”
* * * * *
”Time for a break, I think,” said Reilly, pressing a button. The dooropened and the cadet Sergeant-Major stuck his head in.
”Sir?”
”Coffee, Sergeant. That will be suitable, gentlemen?” The boys noddedand the cadet withdrew.
”While we're waiting, are there any more questions?”
One of the boys hesitantly raised his hand.
”Mr. Phillips?”
”Sir, why is so much of the activity by the agents carried out insecrecy? It all seems rather underhanded to me.”
”By the very nature of themselves, what we do must be carried outsecretly. Even when we act openly, it is in secret....”
* * * * *
In the distance a bell tolled the supper hour. In the palace,pageboys wandered the corridors, knocking on apartment doors rousingthe occupants. Carter combed out his beard, frowning at the liberalsprinkling of gray hairs in it, donned his cloak and set out forthe dining hall. He shivered as a chill wind swept down the draftycorridors, and reminded himself to speak to Kahl again about returningto the capital city. Anything would be better than this.
The dining hall was crowded, as usual, with supplicants who had bribedtheir way to the royal tables. Most of them had wasted their money.The chamberlain had stuck them away in far corners where they would beable to do nothing but stare at the man they wanted to see. Not thatit would have done them any good to speak to the king. Kahl found thepetty details of his office tiring. More and more he had been shovingthem onto the willing shoulders of Carter.
The chamberlain met him at the door with a copy of the seatingarrangements. Carter read down the list, pausing here and there atfamiliar names--most of them pests who had long ago worn out hispatience. He pursed his lips and touched a name with his finger.
”This Ivra. Fisherman, it says. He the one with the daughter Kahlwants?”
”Yes.” Like most of the royal retinue, the chamberlain wasuncomfortable in Carter's presence. The man had no title, no office.But he was undeniably the most powerful person in the realm after theking himself--some placed his eminence even ahead of the king's. ”ShallI place him at the royal table?”
”No. It wouldn't do any good. But tell him to come see metomorrow--no. Make that three days from now. He can't have his daughterunviolated, but I think we can make him happy to have her at all.”
He handed the list back and made his way to the royal table, nodding toacquaintances and enemies. The problem of the fisherman bothered him.Carter was unaware of the fact, but he carried a strong puritanicalconscience, the legacy of unknown forebears of years back. Hedisapproved of Kahl's unrestrained love life and did whatever he couldto ease the disruptions it caused in the normal flow of subject-rulerrelations.
He stopped at the royal table and clapped a uniformed officer on theshoulder. ”Marshal Zants! A pleasure to see you back at court. I readyour report. I know His Most Graciousness will be pleased at youreastern successes.”
”Thank you, sir.” The marshal inclined his head. ”And I see you havehad your own successes. Much has changed during the two years of mycampaign.”
”We all live, Marshal,” said Carter. ”We all grow a little older. It'sthe natural course of life. A man who stands still in one position allthe time wouldn't make a good runner, now would he?”
”Indeed not. I suppose you wouldn't be interested in a commissionunder me? What things we could do together!”
”I'm honored that you think of me so kindly, but I'm afraid my peculiartalents don't run in the military manner, Marshal.”
”Ah, but what a strategist you would make, sir.”
”Oh?” He grinned. ”Then our enemies should be happy to have me in thecapital, not on the field.”
* * * * *
He reached his seat just in time to touch trousers to it and rise againwhen Kahl came in, whispering something in the ear of a courtesan. Thegirl laughed hysterically, then went to the woman's table as servantsstarted bringing in the first course. Kahl grunted as he sat down andrubbed his belly. He leaned over towards Carter.
”I'm getting fat, southerner. Fat and old.”
”A little exercise would do us all good.”
Kahl laughed. ”That's what I like about you, Carter. Not for you themealy-mouthed compliments. When you think something, you come right outand say it. I wish more of my ministers had your courage.”
”A few tried it,” said Carter. ”As I remember it, you had their earscut off and made them eat them.”
”Yes, but I gave them a choice as to how they were prepared, didn't I?”He roared, and the rest of the room roared with him, although no onemore than six feet from the head of the royal table could possibly haveknown the jest.
Kahl fell to slurping his soup, while Carter did his best to hide hisdistaste at the man's table manners. For that matter, there was not aperson in the hall he would have invited to the most informal dinnerin his own
apartments. Table manners were something else he had beentrying to introduce, but as yet they were his most notorious failure.
”Ahhh!” The king wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. While oneservant removed the soup and another brought up the platter of meatsand fish, he leaned over again. ”Now, then, Carter. I've been meaningto speak to you all day. Been busy, though. Inhuman the number ofdemands on my time. Not that I mind of course. The penalties of thecrown, and all that. But I really have been meaning to talk to you.How's that pet tinkerer of yours coming along.”
”Which one would that be? I've got most of the college working, youknow.”
”The one working on that steam gadget you've been telling me about. Youknow, the one to make work easier. Not that I can see why a man shouldhave his work made easy. Does the people good to sweat a bit.”
”Economically, though, to have one man able to do the work of half adozen is very good. Just think of how it'll enrich the treasuries.Besides, the work isn't any easier on them: they just produce more.”
”Yes, yes. You've explained that all before. But how is it going?”
”Quite well. I think another few weeks will bring very promisingresults. Some of the others are coming along well, too. The armory isturning out a hundred of the improved crossbows a day, now. I tookMarshal Zants through the armory and his eyes positively glowed withexcitement. He promises new and greater victories in his next campaign.”
* * * * *