The Florians (14 page)

“You're very astute, Mr. Alexander,” was all he said.

“You want us out of the way because we're a big threat to your power,” I said. “The Planners will probably think the same way. But you're afraid, aren't you, that it won't quite work out? You're not sure the Planners will refuse to have anything to do with us. You're afraid they might make a deal—in fact, you're almost as afraid of the Planners making a deal as you are of Vulgan and
his
friends making a deal...because it's you, and you
alone,
who is desperate to maintain the status quo.”

“I'm glad you have it all worked out,” he said, without any trace of anger or animosity. “It saves me explaining.”

It didn't take any additional brainwork to see what he was getting at. Now
he
wanted to make a deal. It was a three-cornered contest. I'd been right when I'd said that the plot could get sicker yet.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Once Jason had decided that he had to negotiate with us—whether he liked it or not—he was prepared to treat us with a degree of civility. He did not, however, work hard to cultivate the illusion that we were or might ever become the best of friends. There was always a note of mockery in his politeness. He still thought that his was the best hand in the whole game.

He took us down to the kitchens and procured some food for us. He didn't exactly cook it with his own hands, but he wasn't averse to fetching and carrying it from the various storage cupboards. He didn't bring in anyone else—I think he wanted his talk with us to remain as private as possible.

I washed my hands at a sink, and he watched with a degree of amusement as I gingerly mopped out the wounds left by the blisters. He seemed to think that it was appropriate in some way that we had suffered somewhat in getting here.

He waited, patiently, while we ate, and then led us to a small sitting room which was presumably his own. I slumped gratefully into the proffered chair like a bag of bones, drained of all strength and just about all feeling. Karen remained uneasy and unrelaxed. She gave the impression that she was still on edge, still ready to leap into action at the slightest provocation. It was useless.

“I didn't expect you to come here,” said Jason. “After you refused my invitation, I thought you would go back to your ship.”

“And suppose I had accepted your invitation?” I said. “Would I have been brought here? Or secreted somewhere, like Mariel?”

“To be quite honest,” he replied, “I'm not sure. It might have depended on the answers you could provide to certain questions. However, it really doesn't matter now. The situation has changed. Now, we can work together...because your best interests coincide with mine.”

“I find that difficult to believe.”

“I've heard the arguments which your associate has put to the Planners. I've also heard what the Planners have had to say in reply. They were hostile from the start—you must have realized that by now, and you must know why. You represent a threat to everything that they hold dear. Contact with Earth, to them, means contact with all the mistakes that they think they have avoided here. It isn't that they fear the importation of technological knowledge and methods, you understand...that's the error that Vulgan has made. What they fear is the importation of certain
ideas:
what they see as mistaken perspectives and corrupt ethics. The Planners are trying to keep violence out of the history of this colony—they feel very strongly about violence. Don't misunderstand me...they're not trying to eradicate violence altogether, certainly not at a personal level. They recognize the bounds of possibility. But what they
do
want to do—and what they believe that they
can
do, given the chance—is to provide for a world without wars. They want to extend this colony over the whole surface of the globe, make Floria a human world, without the large-scale bloodshed which has...
haunted,
shall we say?...the history of your world.

“Perhaps you will consider the Planners naïve, Mr. Alexander. But you must try to see their point of view. The original colonists left Earth determined to make a
better
world, not simply
another
one. Perhaps that determination has become dilute and meaningless in the colony at large...but here, in this building, it remains as strong as ever. It has been handed down from mind to mind over the years, with all the attendant passion. The Planners are fanatics.

“You see, then, why they were prejudiced against you from the start. But they are, it seems, not quite as dedicated to their fanaticism as even I might have expected. For one thing, they recognized—as perhaps their ancestors had realized—that contact with Earth might, in the long run, be inevitable. As long as Earth has ships, we cannot keep them away....

“And so they were prepared to talk to Mr. Parrick. Listen to what he had to say. They were prepared to drive as hard a bargain as they could, but they were prepared to listen to anything which would not compromise their basic principle. They want no more colonists here, and no Earthmen polluting the minds of their beloved people. But they were prepared to try to buy that freedom, if there was any way that they could...rather than simply refusing point blank to have anything to do with you.

“The extremists among them have argued that
any
contact with Earth is intolerable—a threat to the whole future of the colonists. At the other extreme, some have argued that we have something to gain from limited, controlled contact with Earth. The issue is balanced. The main factor affecting that balance, Mr. Alexander, could well be
this
.”

The object which he held up, of course, was Karen's crowbar.

“Injuring one man helped,” Jason went on. “Injuring a second—and within the Planners' own home—will almost certainly underline the anti-contact arguments powerfully. The Planners will hear you tomorrow, of course, and you'll have a chance to talk your way out of it...but somehow I don't really think you can do it. Do I make myself clear?”

“Not exactly,” I said. “I know where
we
stand...but what about you?”

“Mr. Alexander,” he said levelly,
“I
rule this world. I say that openly because you know by now. We have no secrets from one another. The Planners are old and fat. Their minds live on under mountains of flesh...but they have nothing except the power of thought and knowledge. And that isn't enough. It isn't enough to do what they want to do, to do what they think they
are
doing.

“I stand in the middle, between the ignorant, helpless colonists and the all-knowing, helpless Planners. I am the body of one side and the brain of the other. Both sides need me...and because of that need I control
everything.
Fm not talking about ambitions, as Vulgan must have...I'm talking about the way things are. I rule this colony because the way things are arranged permits no one else to rule.

“When you come here to deal with this colony, you come here to deal with me. Not the Planners, not the farmers, not the Colony Manager.”

“That's not so,” I said. “We came to deal with the colony as a whole.”

“But I'm the only man who can speak for the colony as a whole,” he countered.

“I don't accept that,” I told him.

“You have no real alternative,” he said coldly. “That is the fact. But that's not really the point. The point is that the best course for both of us, at this stage, is for you simply to return to your ship and fly away into space. Go back to Earth, or on to other colonies. But if your intentions are peaceful, and you came to help, and you have no intention of landing more colonists here in opposition to our wishes—and these are all statements your associate has made—then there is only one way that you can prevent trouble and violence...and that is to
go away and stay away
.”

“You can't stave off the inevitable,” said Karen. “Even the Planners recognize that.”

He turned to look at her. “I can try,” he said. “And I can succeed. You forget that we have different points of view. They are interested in the future...in the whole future history of the colony. When they think about avoiding contact, they think about avoiding contact
forever.
That's impossible...perhaps. But I'm not interested in forever. I'm interested in ten years, in twenty years. I'm interested in now.”

“How old are you?” I asked him.

He smiled. “Oh, I have twenty years in me yet,” he said. “I won't turn into a mass of flesh that can't even walk. I'm active, Mr. Alexander. I
use
my body. That's....”

“I know,” I said rudely. “That's why you run this world and not the Planners.”

He looked at me steadily for half a minute or so. His temper was still under control. “It seems that you don't want to go away,” he said softly. “You're very determined to help us in spite of ourselves, aren't you? I don't really understand that...unless, of course, you have motives which you aren't declaring. But tell me this, Mr. Alexander. Exactly what alternative do you think you have? You can't deal with the Planners—and if you ally yourselves with Vulgan and Ellerich you'll help us straight into strife and make a mockery of all the promises Parrick has made.
Is
that what you intend to do?”

“No,” I told him.

“Then what
do
you have in mind?”

“I think I can make the Planners see reason.”

He began to laugh, to make the proposition look foolish. But he knew that I wasn't playing the fool. It was no laughing matter.

“You can't,” he said.

“Watch me,” I countered. Our stares remained locked together.

“I think you should remember that I have the little girl,” he said finally.

I knew we'd arrived at the last card he had to play. This was the ultimate insurance he had. He still thought he could force a deal, even if we didn't want to make one.

I decided it was time to stop playing hard. I wasn't getting anywhere, and I was showing off my dislike rather than using my head. I let myself weaken outwardly.

“I'll think it over,” I said. “But I need some sleep. I'd also like to talk to Nathan. I'll put your points to him...but any decision we come to has to be a joint decision, not mine.”

He read into that exactly what he was supposed to read into it: the implication that I was about to change my attitude, but wanted to duck responsibility for it. His smile widened.

“Of course,” he said. “I must find rooms for you both. You're very tired. You can sleep as long as you like. I'll take care of everything...bringing the Planners up to date, arranging for you to see them. And I'll arrange for you to confer with Mr. Parrick beforehand. I'm sure that everything can be settled amicably, if you'll only weigh the arguments carefully.”

“So am I,” I said—and I couldn't help just a slight note of malice creeping back into my voice. “So am I.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“You're a pair of bloody fools,” said Nathan, with feeling. “Just what the
hell
do you think you've been playing at?”

“Well,” I said philosophically, “to put it crudely, it all seemed like a good idea at the time.”

He was angry, and comments like that weren't likely to cool him down any. “You've undone
everything
I've achieved here. While I've been working my guts out trying to convince these people that our intentions were one hundred percent pure and noble—and that hasn't been easy in view of the fact that they think I'm the devil's cousin—you've been running loose like a pair of cowboys beating people up.”

“They said the same to David after the Goliath incident,” said Karen, facing me but directing the comment to no place in particular.

“Take it easy, Nathan,” I told him.

“Easy!
Can't you get it into your head that it
isn't
easy. It's damned difficult. You were told to avoid intimidating people at all costs. You were
told
to cooperate, to capitulate, to provide living proof of the fact that we came with no hostile intentions. You knew we were coming into a touchy situation and you've done just about everything in your power to aggravate it. If this mission fails it's down to you two and no one else. You could have blown the whole damn thing!”

“I'm glad you think there's still an ‘if,'” I said, trying hard to soothe him now.

“Look,” Karen interrupted. “You don't understand.”

I put my hand on her arm. “I think,” I murmured, “that we'll find he understands perfectly. Jason may think he's being super-clever, but he's only a dilettante...an amateur Machiavelli. He might have the Planners fooled, but he hasn't fooled Nathan.” I looked at Nathan for confirmation of this.

“He hasn't even got the Planners fooled,” said Nathan, with tired sarcasm. “They're not idiots either. We had it
all
working. Buckland and I had an understanding...we could have made a friendly contact with a successful colony. You simply have no idea how much that might mean back on Earth.”

“In political terms,” I said.

“In political terms.
Of course
it's a matter of politics. You know that.”

“Aren't you forgetting something?” I asked.

His gaze was angry enough to suggest that he didn't think he had.

“Problems of co-adaptation,” I said. “What the ship is equipped to deal with. What we came here for...apart, of course, from all the political reasons.”

Now the anger began to fade. “You found out what's causing the unnatural growth?”

I shook my head. “You don't solve scientific problems like Sherlock Holmes,” I told him. “It's not enough to look at the clues and then point out the murderer. But I know what kind of problem it is...and I know how serious it is. That's exactly what the Planners—and Jason—
don't
know. And what's more important is the fact that they don't know they don't know, if you see what I mean.”

“They think they have a different kind of problem? A trivial one?”

I nodded.

“But the one they have is a killer?”

I nodded again. I still had to wait for a few moments while he changed mental gear.

“All right,” he said. “Not that it makes any difference to the cowboy act, but go on. Let's hear it.”

Satisfied that we could now talk sensibly I shook my head. “No time,” I said. “There are much more important things to discuss. Like what are we going to do about Jason? He has Mariel, and he's not going to be pleased when I go before the Planners and show them six good reasons why they need us here desperately. He wants us out—we're upsetting his Machiavellian apple-cart. The peasants are restless and things are getting stirred up at home base as well. He thinks he's losing an empire, and he's going to turn vicious. I want to hear some answers from you about how we're going to look after ourselves when things blow up.”

“Jason is the Planners' problem, not ours.”

“He has Mariel.”

Nathan went to the window and looked out at the calm, quiet sea. I stood up and followed him. Without turning around, he said, “We're on Floria, not on Earth. If Jason has committed—or intends to commit—any crimes, then they're Florian crimes, and it's for the Florians to take what action is necessary. Despite what you two seem to think we didn't come here as a party of commandos.”

“It isn't the Florians he'll be issuing ultimatums to,” interposed Karen. “It's us.”

“I'm sorry,” said Nathan, “but our hands are tied. Our job is to talk to the Planners. It's up to them to handle Jason.”

“
Why
is it our job to talk to the Planners?” demanded Karen angrily. “Because they
think
they run this world? Why isn't it our job to deal with Jason, who
really
runs things—or with the people on the mainland, who want to run things? Everyone here's a self-elected spokesman for his planet...only they all want different things from us. So why the Planners? How do we decide that it's
them
we should be talking to and not the others?”

Nathan turned back from the window to confront us both.

“I'll not give either of you a string of diplomatic phrases,” he said. “I could set out half a dozen moral reasons for not allying ourselves with Ellerich and Vulgan, or with Jason. But the simple fact is that we deal with tho Planners because the Planners have what we need. That's all there is to it.”

“And what do we need?” I asked quietly.

“A better world. Floria. A world where the cruel and bloody history of Earth might not be repeated. We need Floria, and we need it the way that the Planners are trying to shape it, not the way that Jason thinks he runs it or the way that Ellerich wants to take it over. We need a Utopian dream, however far from fulfillment. As an advertisement. As a lure. To get space travel going again as a successful political concern.”

“We can't use Floria as a lure,” I said slowly. “They won't let us bring any more colonists here.”

“We don't have to bring any more colonists here,” he said. “The example is enough. What can be done here can be done elsewhere. Handled right, one big success could offset a dozen failures. It's the dream that has to be kept alive, you see...the myth. That's how political games are won. Not with facts, with promises. With good public relations work. If we can build up this world as evidence of the fact that there
are
new lives to be made out here, new worlds to be conquered, we can begin to win the slogan war again. That's why I'm here, you see. It's my job to make certain that the reports we take back tell a very different story from the ones Kilner submitted. That's why we deal with the Planners, no matter how ugly they are or how much you might disagree with the methods they use to achieve their ends.”

“That's great,” I said, with slight distaste. “But there's just two things wrong. One is that this colony won't be successful in any degree whatsoever unless we can help them beat their growth syndrome. And the second is that they might not be able to handle Jason.”

“I didn't say that it was easy,” said Nathan calmly. “But if we keep our heads from now on, we have a chance.
If
we keep our heads. As for the first of your thorny points, let's not underestimate you, Alex, and the abilities of your staff. Kilner helped the other colonies...you can help this one. If a solution is humanly possible, you'll find it, and the Planners will use it. On the second point, well...let's not underestimate the Planners, either. They know about Jason. And I don't just mean that they have their spies to tell them what he's up to. Their ancestors knew about the inevitability of people like Jason, about the inevitability of the situations which breed people like Jason. People who set out to control history don't usually need lessons in it.”

“While we're not underestimating people...” I said. “How about not underestimating Jason?”

“All right,” he said, “let's not underestimate Jason. He's a determined man. I don't believe that he's acting very cleverly, but he knows what he wants even if he doesn't quite know how to get it. He might threaten Mariel. He might do something else equally stupid. But the vital thing for us to do is
nothing
. We cannot act like bulls in a china shop.”

“If we hadn't acted as we did,” I said patiently, “I might never have got here. Jason as good as told me that if I'd surrendered to him at Leander I might have been tucked away somewhere with Mariel—and that's certainly what would have happened to Karen. Giving Jason more hostages would be pointless, and could be downright dangerous...because if I hadn't gone on the run and come here under my own steam I might never have got into a position where I could explain to
anyone
exactly how much trouble this colony is in. We're
not
just here on a glorified public relations exercise—we're here to try and put some
substance
on that dream you want to sell. We can't simply be content to adopt a totally negative role. Maybe we shouldn't have knocked a man out to get at the radio. Maybe Karen overreacted at the Leander station. But these things have always got to be decided on the spur of the moment, and sometimes a positive attitude is necessary.”

“Forget it,” said Nathan, sighing heavily. “It's all in the past. You've had your fling, and maybe no damage has been done. If you
can
make the Planners see it your way, maybe things have worked out right. But
please
...from now on, we play it my way. All right?”

“I don't know,” I said stubbornly. “I'm still scared of Jason.”

And at that moment, the door opened, and in he came. I don't know if he heard what I said or not. He showed no trace of emotion on his face. He simply said, “The Planners will see you now.”

But as I walked past him, I could see the threat glittering his eyes.