Citadel

regretpersonally, and which I am sure my own people would much rather not havehad happen."

  "Naturally." Marlowe smiled. "I simply wanted to reassure you that thisincident does not reflect on your own status in any way. We areinvestigating our representative, and will take appropriate action, butit seems quite clear that the fault is not with your people. We havealready forwarded reparations and a note of apology to your government.As further reparation, I wish to assure you personally that we willcooperate with your personal observations in every possible way. Ifthere is anything at all you wish to know--even what might, underordinary conditions, be considered restricted information--just call onus."

  Ud Klavan's crest stirred a fraction of an inch, and Marlowe chuckledinwardly. Well, even a brilliant spy might be forgiven an outwarddisplay of surprise under these circumstances.

  The Dovenilid gave him a piercing look, but Marlowe presented afeatureless facade of bulk.

  The secretary chuckled in his mind once more. He doubted if ud Klavancould accept the hypothesis that Marlowe did not know he was a spy. Butthe Dovenilid must be a sorely confused being at this point.

  "Thank you, Marlowe," he said finally. "I am most grateful, and I amsure my people will construe it as yet another sign of the Union'sfriendship."

  "I hope so, ud Klavan," Marlowe replied. Having exchanged this lastfriendly lie, they went through the customary Dovenilid formula ofleave-taking.

  * * * * *

  Marlowe slapped his interphone switch as soon as the alien was gone. "Uh... Mary, what's the latest on Holliday?"

  "His shuttle lands at Idlewild in half an hour, sir."

  "All right, get Mr. Mead. Have him meet me out front, and get anofficial car to take us to the field. I'll want somebody from Emigrationto go with us. Call Idlewild and have them set up a desk and chairs forfour out in the middle of the field. Call the Ministry for Traffic andmake sure that field stays clear until we're through with it. MyMinisterial prerogative, and no back-talk. I want that car in tenminutes."

  "Yes, sir."

  Mary's voice was perfectly even, without the slightest hint that therewas anything unusual happening. Marlowe switched off and twisted hismouth.

  He picked up the GenSurv on the Dovenil area and began skimming itrapidly.

  * * * * *

  He kept his eyes carefully front as he walked out of his office, pastthe battery of clerks in the outer office, and down the hall. He keptthem rigidly fixed on the door of his personal elevator which, duringthe day, was human-operated under the provisions of the Human EmploymentAct of 2302. He met Mead in front of the building and did not look intothe eyes of Bussard, the man from Emigration, as they shook hands. Hefollowed them down the walk in a sweating agony of obliviousness, andclimbed into the car with carefully normal lack of haste.

  He sat sweating, chewing a candy bar, for several minutes before hespoke. Then, slowly, he felt his battered defenses reassert themselves,and he could actually look at Bussard, before he turned to Mead.

  "Now, then," he rapped out a shade too abruptly before he caughthimself. "Here's the GenSurv on the Dovenil area, Chris. Anything in ityou don't know already?"

  "I don't think so, sir."

  "O.K., dig me up a habitable planet--even a long-term False-E willdo--close to Dovenil, but not actually in their system. If it's at allpossible, I want that world in a system without any rich planets. And Idon't want any rich systems anywhere near it. If you can't do that,arrange for the outright sale of all mineral and other resource rightsto suitable companies. I want that planet to be habitable, but I want itto be impossible for any people on it to get at enough resources toachieve a technological culture. Can do?"

  Mead shook his head. "I don't know."

  "You've got about fifteen minutes to find out. I'm going to starttalking to Holliday, and when I tell him I've got another planet forhim, I'll be depending on you to furnish one. Sorry to pile it on likethis, but must be."

  Mead nodded. "Right, Mr. Marlowe. That's why I draw pay."

  "Good boy. Now, uh--" Rabbit. "Bussard. I want you to be ready to layout a complete advertising and prospectus program. Straight routinework, but about four times normal speed. The toughest part of it will befollowing the lead that Chris and I set. Don't be surprised atanything, and act like it happens every day."

  "Yes, Mr. Marlowe."

  "Right."

  Bussard looked uncomfortable. "Ah ... Mr. Marlowe?"

  "Yes?"

  "About this man, Harrison. I presume all this is the result of whathappened to him on Dovenil. Do you think there's any foundation in truthfor what they say he did? Or do you think it's just an excuse to get himoff their world?"

  Marlowe looked at him coldly. "Don't be an ass," he snorted.

  VIII.

  Martin Holliday climbed slowly out of the shuttle's lock and movedfumblingly down the stairs, leaning on the attendant's arm. His face wasa mottled gray, and his hands shook uncontrollably. He stepped down tothe tarmac and his head turned from side to side as his eyes gulped thefield's distances.

  Marlowe sat behind the desk that had been put down in the middle of thisemptiness, his eyes brooding as he looked at Holliday. Bussard stoodbeside him, trying nervously to appear noncommittal, while Mead went upto the shaking old man, grasped his hand, and brought him over to thedesk.

  Marlowe shifted uncomfortably. The desk was standard size, and he had tosit far away from it. He could not feel at ease in such a position.

  His thick fingers went into the side pocket of his jacket and peeled thefilm off a candy bar, and he began to eat it, holding it in his lefthand, as Mead introduced Holliday.

  "How do you do, Mr. Holliday?" Marlowe said, his voice higher than hewould have liked it, while he shook the man's hand.

  "I'm ... I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Secretary," Holliday replied. Hiseyes were darting past Marlowe's head.

  "This is Mr. Bussard, of Emigration, and you know Mr. Mead, of course.Now, I think we can all sit down."

  Mead's chair was next to Holliday's, and Bussard's was to one side ofthe desk, so that only Marlowe, unavoidably, blocked his complete viewof the stretching tarmac.

  "First of all, Mr. Holliday, I'd like to thank you for coming back.Please believe me when I say we would not have made such a request if itwere not urgently necessary."

  "It's all right," Holliday said in a low, apologetic voice. "I don'tmind."

  Marlowe winced, but he had to go on.

  "Have you seen a news broadcast recently, Mr. Holliday?"

  The man shook his head in embarrassment. "No, sir. I've been ... asleepmost of the time."

  "I understand, Mr. Holliday. I didn't really expect you had under thecircumstances. The situation is this:

  "Some time ago, our survey ships, working out in their usual expandingpattern, encountered an alien civilization on a world designated MooreII on our maps, and which the natives call Dovenil. It was largely aroutine matter, no different from any other alien contact which we'vehad. They had a relatively high technology, embracing the beginnings ofinterplanetary flight, and our contact teams were soon able to work outa diplomatic status mutually satisfactory to both.

  "Social observers were exchanged, in accordance with the usual practice,and everything seemed to be going well."

  Holliday nodded out of painful politeness, not seeing the connectionwith himself. Some of his nervousness was beginning to fade, but it wasimpossible for him to be really at ease with so many people near him,with all of Earth's billions lurking at the edge of the tarmac.

  "However," Marlowe went on as quickly as he could, "today, ourrepresentative was deported on a trumped-up charge. Undoubtedly, this isonly the first move in some complicated scheme directed against theUnion. What it is, we do not yet know, but further observation of theactions of their own representative on this planet has convinced us thatthey are a clever, ruthless people, living in a society which would haveput Machiavelli to shame. They a
re single-minded of purpose, and weldedinto a tight group whose major purpose in life is the service of thestate in its major purpose, which, by all indications, is that ofeventually dominating the universe.

  "You know our libertarian society. You know that the Union government isalmost powerless, and that the Union itself is nothing but a loosefederation composed of a large number of independent nations tiedtogether by very little more than the fact that we are all Earthmen.

  "We are almost helpless in the face of such a nation as the Dovenilids.They have already outmaneuvered us once, despite our best efforts. Thereis no sign that they will not be able to do so again, at will.

  "We must, somehow, discover what the Dovenilids intend to do next. Forthis reason, I earnestly request that you accept our offer of anotherplanet than the one you have optioned, closer to the Dovenilid system.We are willing, under these extraordinary circumstances, to consideryour credit sufficient for the outright purchase of half the planet, andMr. Bussard, here, will do his utmost to get you suitable colonists forthe other half as rapidly as it can be done. Will you help us, Mr.Holliday?"

  * * * * *

  Marlowe sank back in his chair. He became conscious of a messy feelingin his left hand, and looked down to discover the half-eaten candy barhad melted. He tried furtively to wipe his hand clean on the undersideof the desk, but he knew Bussard had noticed, and he cringed and cursedhimself.

  Holliday's face twisted nervously.

  "I ... I don't know--"

  "Please don't misunderstand us, Mr. Holliday," Marlowe said. "We do notintend to ask you to spy for us, nor are we acting with the intention ofnow establishing a base of any sort on the planet. We simply would liketo have a Union world near the Dovenilid system. Whatever Dovenil doeswill not have gathered significant momentum by the end of your life. Youwill be free to end your days exactly as you have always wished, and theprecautions we have outlined will ensure that there will be noencroachments on your personal property during that time. We areplanning for the next generation, when Dovenil will be initiating itsprogram of expansion. It is then that we will need an establishedoutpost near their borders."

  "Yes," Holliday said hesitantly, "I can understand that. I ... I don'tknow," he repeated. "It seems all right. And, as you say, it won'tmatter, during my lifetime, and it's more than I had really hoped for."He looked nervously at Mead. "What do you think, Mr. Mead? You've alwaysdone your best for me."

  Mead shot one quick glance at Marlowe. "I think Mr. Marlowe's doing hisbest for the Union," he said finally, "and I know he is fully aware ofyour personal interests. I think what he's doing is reasonable under thecircumstances, and I think his proposition to you, as he's outlined it,is something which you cannot afford to not consider. The final decisionis up to you, of course."

  Holliday nodded slowly, staring down at his hands. "Yes, yes, I thinkyou're right, Mr. Mead." He looked up at Marlowe. "I'll be glad to help.And I'm grateful for the consideration you've shown me."

  "Not at all, Mr. Holliday. The Union is in your debt."

  Marlowe wiped his hand on the underside of the desk again, but he onlymade matters worse, for his fingers picked up some of the chocolate hehad removed before.

  "Mr. Mead, will you give Mr. Holliday the details on the new planet?" hesaid, trying to get his handkerchief out without smearing his suit. Hecould almost hear Bussard snickering.

  * * * * *

  Holliday signed the new option contract and shook Marlowe's hand. "I'dlike to thank you again, sir. Looking at it from my point of view, it'ssomething for nothing--at least, while I'm alive. And it's a very niceplanet, too, from the way Mr. Mead described it. Even better thanKarlshaven."

  "Nevertheless, Mr. Holliday," Marlowe said, "you have done the Union agreat service. We would consider it an honor if you allowed us to enteryour planet in our records under the name of Holliday."

  He kept his eyes away from Mead.

  Martin Holliday's eyes were shining. "Thank you, Mr. Marlowe," he saidhuskily.

  Marlowe could think of no reply. Finally, he simply nodded. "It's been apleasure meeting you, Mr. Holliday. We've arranged transportation, andyour shuttle will be taking off very shortly."

  Holliday's face began to bead with fresh perspiration at the thought ofbulkheads enclosing him once more, but he managed to smile, and thenask, hesitantly: "May I ... may I wait for the shuttle out here, sir?"

  "Certainly. We'll arrange for that. Well, good-by, Mr. Holliday."

  "Good-by, Mr. Marlowe. Good-by, Mr. Bussard. And good-by, Mr. Mead. Idon't suppose you'll be seeing me again."

  "Good luck, Mr. Holliday," Mead said.

  * * * * *

  Marlowe twisted awkwardly on the car's back seat, wiping futilely at thelong smear of chocolate on his trouser pocket.

  Well, he thought, at least he'd given the old man his name on the starmaps until Earthmen stopped roving.

  At least he'd given him that.

  Mead was looking at him. "I don't suppose we've got time to let him diein peace, have we?" he asked.

  Marlowe shook his head.

  "I suppose we'll have to start breaking him immediately, won't we?"

  Marlowe nodded.

  "I'll get at it right away, sir."

  _Dave!_ Does everyone have to hate me? Can't anyone understand? Evenyou, uh--Creed. Even you, Mead?

  IX.

  Dalish ud Klavan, stooped and withered, sat hopelessly, oppositeMarlowe, who sat behind his desk like a grizzled polar bear, histhinning mane of white hair unkempt and straggling.

  "Marlowe, my people are strangling," the old Dovenilid said.

  Marlowe looked at him silently.

  "The Holliday Republic has signed treaty after treaty with us, and stilltheir citizens raid our mining planets, driving away our own people,stealing the resources we must have if we are to live."

  Marlowe sighed. "There's nothing I can do."

  "We have gone to the Holliday government repeatedly," ud Klavan pleaded."They tell us the raiders are criminals, that they are doing their bestto stop them. But they still buy the metal the raiders bring them."

  "They have to," Marlowe said. "There are no available resourcesanywhere within practicable distances. If they're to have anycivilization at all, they've _got_ to buy from the outlaws."

  "But they are members of the Union!" ud Klavan protested. "_Why_ won'tyou do anything to stop them?"

  "We can't," Marlowe said again. "They're members of the Union, yes, butthey're also a free republic. We have no administrative jurisdictionover them, and if we attempted to establish one our citizens would risein protest all over our territory."

  "Then we're finished. Dovenil is a dead world."

  Marlowe nodded slowly. "I am very sorry. If there is anything I can do,or that the Ministry can do, we will do it. But we cannot save theDovenilid state."

  Ud Klavan looked at him bitterly. "Thank you," he said. "Thank you foryour generous offer of a gracious funeral.

  "I don't understand you!" he burst out suddenly. "I don't understand youpeople! Diplomatic lies, yes. Expediency, yes! But this ... thismadness, this fanatical, illogical devotion of the state in the cause ofa people who will tolerate no state! This ... no, this I cannotunderstand."

  Marlowe looked at him, his eyes full of years.

  "Ud Klavan," he said, "you are quite right. We are a race of maniacs.And that is why Earthmen rule the galaxy. For our treaties are notbinding, and our promises are worthless. Our government does _not_represent our people. It represents our people as they once were. Thedelay in the democratic process is such that the treaty signed todayfulfills the promise of yesterday--but today the Body Politic has formeda new opinion, is following a new logic which is completely at variancewith that of yesterday. An Earthman's promise--expressed in words ordeeds--is good _only at the instant he makes it_. A second later, newfactors have entered into the total circumstances, and a new chain
oflogic has formed in his head--to be altered again, a few seconds later."

  He thought, suddenly, of that poor claustrophobic devil, Holliday,harried from planet to planet, never given a moment's rest--andcivilizing, civilizing, spreading the race of humankind wherever he wasdriven. Civilizing with a fervor no hired dummy could have accomplished,driven by his fear to sell with all the real estate agent's talent thathad been born in him, selling for the sake of money with which to buythat land he needed for his peace--and always being forced to sell alittle too much.

  Ud Klavan rose from his chair. "You are also right, Marlowe. You are arace of maniacs, gibbering across the stars. And know, Marlowe, that theother races of the universe hate you."

  Marlowe with a tremendous effort heaved himself out of his chair.

  "Hate us?" He lumbered around the desk and advanced on the frightenedDovenilid, who was retreating backwards before his path.

  "Can't you see it? Don't you understand that, if we are to pursue anycourse of action over a long time--if we are ever going to achieve agalaxy in which an Earthman can some day live at peace with himself--wemust each day violate all the moral codes and creeds which we heldinviolate the