You sift out us misfits who chafe at tribaloneness, you offer us the planets!"
The antennae flashed an angry scarlet. "You think to keep us chained amillennium. A hundred years will suffice. We will leave you. We exilesyou have made, we who would be destroyed if we dared return to thetribe, we shall rule this world! You aliens drive a hard bargain, butthe dream is worth it!"
Prometheus, in a bug's body. The shining strength, and the dark terriblepride.
"It is no dream," Starza said gently. "But perhaps you go aboutachieving it the wrong way. You still refuse to divulge the spy?"
"I am sorry. Good day."
Starza brooded after him.
"He's a fool. But he's grasping mankind's concepts, Jake. I'd give myright eye for a good semanticist! Basic English does it. _Self_, _want_,_mine_, selfish ego-words, the cornerstones of grasping humanity. Sure,we'll raise hell with their esthetic sense, but in the end they'll thankus."
I sat, worrying about a secret fanatic somewhere in the plant who, inthe holy interests of Mars-for-the-Martians, Terminorb-for-the-Terms,might soon plant an atomic warhead in our body shop. I finally said,"What are we going to _do_?"
"Do?" Starza chuckled. "Why, slacken line speeds, lower productionstandards, fifty percent at least. By tomorrow we'll be down to fortyjobs an hour. They want loose standards, we'll give it to them."
"But my _cost_?"
"Obscenity your cost. Look, Jake, no matter how you set an operation up,the Terms manage to work in some glittering little ritual. They _have_to create beauty. Their esthetic sense must be fed. They can't adjust toquick change. Supposing you cut line speeds by ten per cent. Theyadjust, but it almost kills them. Then drop thirty per cent. Theirritual loses timing, becomes discordant. What happens?"
I blinked. "They go mad."
"And our little Guild saboteur will be guilty of a few Term deaths.He'll have violated a basic Guild tenet. He'll go home with his tailbetween his legs. Catch?"
I caught.
By midafternoon we had the conveyor speeds down thirty per cent. The redline on my cost chart soared precariously. The entire production lineslowed to a crawl. We waited.
At five o'clock it happened. Three Terms in the body shop went mad. Itstarted a chain reaction throughout the trim line. Six more Terms ranamuck and had to be destroyed. Final assembly became a shambles. Starzacalled me on the visicom, delighted. "Our Guild agent played right intoour hands, Jake. In forcing a production slump he's harming the workers.His next move will probably be a bluff."
I wasn't so sure.
That evening the executive dining room was choked with a tight, gnawingtension. Department heads spoke in hushed whispers, eyes darting. Theman across the table could be a mindless-controlled, a Guild pawn. Smileat him politely and keep your mouth shut. I ordered _thar_, a Terminorbarthapod that was usually more delicious than Venusian lobster, buttonight it tasted like broiled leather. It was like eating in a morgue.
I saw Carmody, at the next table. I nodded coolly to him and he hitchedhis chair over and said, "By the way, Jake, I'm sorry about Harvey. He'sgoing back to Earth next week."
"Why?"
"His stability index was too low," Carmody said smoothly. "Sure, wecould have given him the works, but you didn't want a robot."
I said deliberately, "I needed that boy, Don."
Carmody got up, his smile infinitely contemptuous. "We don't all haveyour stability index, Jake."
I stared after him, and the thought suddenly struck me that not once had_I_ considered quitting, ever. Somehow, the thought disturbed me.
Abruptly the public address speaker boomed.
"Attention," Starza's voice crackled. "To the Guild agent, wherever hemay be. Today you murdered thirty-seven Terms. Is this your altruism? Isthis your vaunted justice?" He went on, his voice like organ music,sweeping away all doubt, making you proud and glad to be a part ofAmalgamated, part of Production, when quite suddenly his voice chokedoff. Simultaneously another voice ripped through the hall. A cold ironicwhisper, lashing at the mind.
"_Altruism, yes. But not as you conceive it. Today you passed your ownjudgment. You have twenty-four hours to evacuate before this Plant isdestroyed. The verdict is final._"
The dining hall echoed with moans. Hands leaned to agonized temples. Thethoughtcaster again, on a wide band frequency. Through the pain I wasconscious of Starza's voice. The Guild was trying to bluff us. Wewouldn't let them. I stumbled out of the hall, my teeth chattering, tookthe lift down to the first level, and got outside, to walk free in thepark.
Here was Eden. Giant conifers and ferns wove a cool green pattern ofdelight, and the laughter of the crystal fountains soothed. Terms hadfashioned this garden, had created a poem in living green, a quiet fugueof _oneness_, each leaf blending exquisitely with the next, the unity,the perfect whole. For one weak moment I let the pattern seepinsidiously into me, and then, ashamed, focused my eyes on that jarringsplash of white in the center of the garden. The ten-foot model of theAmalgamated X-3M, squat with power, lifting on her stern jets. A symbolof Amalgamated's strength, the indomitable spirit of mankind, beautyborn of pure utility. Oddly, a half-remembered poem of the Ancientsflitted through my brain:
_Dirty British Coaster with her salt-caked smokestack, Butting through the Channel on the mad March days--_
That was man.
On an infinity of planets he had met resistance, through force, throughguile--even through beauty. And he had conquered. I drew a slow deepbreath and sat on one of the benches, staring up at the gigantichorseshoe of the factory, hearing the muted hum of the atomics.Twenty-four hours.
I tried to run through my axioms, and I was suddenly terrified. Icouldn't remember them! That damned thoughtcaster. Twice in one day.Perhaps there was some gradual neural disintegration. My head hurtterribly. Tomorrow I'd go to Psych for a checkup. I thought about thatmarble villa in Venusport, and about my bank account. Not enough.Another year, just one more year, and I could retire, at thirty-four. Ithought about the Venusian twilights, and the turquoise mists off theDeeps, and wondered dully if I'd ever see Venus or the Earth again.
I saw Fern, walking among the conifers, her face a pale mask of strain."You heard it, Jake?"
I nodded.
We sat in the aquamarine twilight, and Fern was shivering, and I put myarm around her.
"Looks like altruism is a relative thing," I said. "What _do_ theywant?"
"Uncontaminated Terms," she said bitterly. "No science, no stars, nowars and no progress. A big beautiful planet-mind, the Term mind,forever static, forever dead."
"It's a bluff," I said. "Our little fanatic's stalling for time, hopingto stampede us while he finds another way."
"For example?"
"Why do you think we insist on basic English for all Terms? Supposing aforeman should start jabbering Terminese during an operation. The Termswould revert, we'd have a line shutdown. They can't adjust--say!" Arandom thought was nibbling at my brain. "Where was Carmody thismorning? Just before I reeled in?"
Her fine brows knitted. "Why, he went--oh, Jake, surely you don'tthink--?"
"Went where?"
"Down the hall. Towards Personnel."
"Towards the conference hall, you mean. He never even examined Harvey!"
"It wasn't necessary," she said uncomfortably. "Don just wanted toverify his stability index."
"Sure! So he stood outside the conference hall and put a whammy on me--"
Fern was smiling. I scowled. "It fits. It has to be him."
"Or Tichnat," she said. "Or Starza. Or me."
I stared at her. "You'd do." My voice shook. "You were gone threemonths. They could have got to you."
Her rich, warm laughter sifted through the twilight, and I wanted to hither. "They did," she gurgled, "but I've decided to relent, Jake. I'llspare the plant on one condition--that you take me to the Term festivaltomorrow night."
I grunted. "Carmody working overtime, I suppose?"
"If the plant's still standing."
I changed the subject.
Two hours later Starza called a council of war.
* * * * *
The conference room was crammed with quivering executives. Starzacarefully let the tension build to a shrill crescendo before he said:
"One of you gentlemen is a Guild mindless-controlled."
Ragged silence. Starza's smile was very faint.
"You gave us an ultimatum. But destroying this plant is an admission offailure you're not willing to make--yet. You'll try another tack. You'rejust beginning to discover that