double desk.
Both scowled. Rostoff opened his mouth to say something and Don Mathersrapped, "Shut up."
Rostoff blinked at him. Demming leaned back in his swivel chair. "You'resober for a change," he wheezed, almost accusingly.
Don Mathers pulled up a stenographer's chair and straddled it, leaninghis arms on the back. He said coldly, "Comes a point when even thelowest worm turns. I've been checking on a few things."
Demming grunted amusement.
Don said, "Space patrols have been cut far below the danger point."
Rostoff snorted. "Is that supposed to interest us? That's the problem ofthe military--and the government."
"Oh, it interests us, all right," Don growled. "Currently, Mathers,Demming and Rostoff control probably three-quarters of the system'sradioactives."
Demming said in greasy satisfaction, "More like four-fifths."
"Why?" Don said bluntly. "Why are we doing what we're doing?"
They both scowled, but another element was present in their expressionstoo. They thought the question unintelligent.
Demming closed his eyes in his porcine manner and grunted, "Tell him."
Rostoff said, "Look, Mathers, don't be stupid. Remember when we toldyou, during that first interview, that we wanted your name in thecorporation, among other reasons, because we could use a man who wasabove law? That a maze of ridiculously binding ordinances have been laidon business down through the centuries?"
"I remember," Don said bitterly.
"Well, it goes both ways. Government today is also bound, very strongly,and even in great emergency, not to interfere in business. Thesecomplicated laws balance each other, you might say. Our whole legalsystem is based upon them. Right now, we've got government right wherewe want it. This is free enterprise, Mathers, at its pinnacle. Did youever hear of Jim Fisk and his attempt to corner gold in 1869, theso-called Black Friday affair? Well, Jim Fisk was a peanut peddlercompared to us."
"What's this got to do with the Fleet having insufficient fuel to ..."Don Mathers stopped as comprehension hit him. "You're holding ourradioactives off the market, pressuring the government for a price risewhich it can't afford."
Demming opened his eyes and said fatly, "For triple the price, Mathers.Before we're through, we'll corner half the wealth of the system."
Don said, "But ... but the species is ... at ... _war_."
Rostoff sneered, "You seem to be getting noble rather late in the game,Mathers. Business is business."
Don Mathers was shaking his head. "We immediately begin selling ourradioactives at cost of production. I might remind you gentlemen thatalthough we're supposedly a three-way partnership, actually,everything's in my name. You thought you had me under your thumb sosecurely that it was safe--and you probably didn't trust each other.Well, I'm blowing the whistle."
* * * * *
Surprisingly fast for such a fat man, Lawrence Demming's hand flittedinto a desk drawer to emerge with a twin of the scrambler tucked inDon's belt.
Don Mathers grinned at him, even as he pushed his jacket back to revealthe butt of his own weapon. He made no attempt to draw it, however.
He said softly, "Shoot me, Demming, and you've killed the most popularman in the Solar System. You'd never escape the gas chamber, no matterhow much money you have. On the other hand, if I shoot you ..."
He put a hand into his pocket and it emerged with a small, inordinatelyordinary bit of ribbon and metal. He displayed it on his palm.
The fat man's face whitened at the ramifications and his hand relaxed tolet the gun drop to the desk. "Listen, Don," he broke out. "We've beenunrealistic with you. We'll reverse ourselves and split, honestly--splitthree ways."
Don Mathers laughed at him. "Trying to bribe me with money, Demming? Whydon't you realize, that I'm the only man in existence who has no needfor money, who can't spend money? That my fellow men--whom I've donesuch a good job of betraying--have honored me to a point where money ismeaningless?"
Rostoff snatched up the fallen gun, snarling, "I'm calling your bluff,you gutless rummy."
Don Mathers said, "Okay, Rostoff. There's just two other things I wantto say first. One--I don't care if I die or not. Two--you're only twentyfeet or so away, but you know what? I think you're probably a lousyshot. I don't think you've had much practice. I think I can get myscrambler out and cut you down before you can finish me." He grinnedthinly, "Wanta try?"
Max Rostoff snarled a curse and his finger whitened on the trigger.
Don Mathers fell sideward, his hand streaking for his weapon. Withoutthought there came back to him the long hours of training in handweapons, in judo, in hand to hand combat. He went into action with coolconfidence.
* * * * *
At the spaceport he took a cab to the Presidential Palace. It was anauto-cab, of course, and at the Palace gates he found he had no money onhim. He snorted wearily. It was the first time in almost a year thathe'd had to pay for anything.
Four sentries were standing at attention. He said, "Do one of you boyshave some coins to feed into this slot? I'm fresh out."
A sergeant grinned, approached, and did the necessary.
Don Mathers said wearily, "I don't know how you go about this. I don'thave an appointment, but I want to see the President."
"We can turn you over to one of the assistant secretaries, CaptainMathers," the sergeant said. "We can't go any further than that. Whilewe're waiting, what's the chances of getting your autograph, sir? Igotta kid ..."
It wasn't nearly as complicated as he'd thought it was going to be. Inhalf an hour he was seated in the office where he'd received hisdecoration only--how long ago was it, really less than a year?
He told the story briefly, making no effort to spare himself. At the endhe stood up long enough to put a paper in front of the other, then satdown again.
"I'm turning the whole corporation over to the government...."
* * * * *
The President said, "Wait a minute. My administration does not advocateState ownership of industry."
"I know. When the State controls industry you only put the whole messoff one step, the question then becomes, who controls the State?However, I'm not arguing political economy with you, sir. You didn't letme finish. I was going to say, I'm turning it over to the government tountangle, even while making use of the inventories of radioactives.There's going to be a lot of untangling to do. Reimbursing theprospectors and small operators who were blackjacked out of theirholdings by our super-corporation. Reimbursing of the miners and otherlaborers who were talked into accepting low pay in the name ofpatriotism." Don Mathers cut it short. "Oh, it's quite a mess."
"Yes," the President said. "And you say Max Rostoff is dead?"
"That's right. And Demming off his rocker. I think he always was alittle unbalanced and the prospect of losing all that money, thegreatest fortune ever conceived of, tipped the scales."
The President said, "And what about you, Donal Mathers?"
Don took a deep breath. "I wish I was back in the Space Services,frankly. Back where I was when all this started. However, I suppose thatafter my court martial, there won't be ..."
The President interrupted gently. "You seem to forget, Captain Mathers.You carry the Galactic Medal of Honor, the bearer of which can do nowrong."
Don Mathers gaped at him.
The President smiled at him, albeit a bit sourly. "It would hardly dofor human morale to find out our supreme symbol of heroism was a phoney,Captain. There will be no trial, and you will retain your decoration."
"But I don't want it!"
"I'm afraid that is the cross you'll have to bear the rest of your life,Captain Mathers. I don't suppose it will be an easy one."
His eyes went to a far corner of the room, but unseeingly. He said aftera long moment, "However, I am not so very sure about your not deservingyour award, Captain."
THE END
Transcriber's N
ote:
This etext was produced from _Amazing Science Fiction Stories_ November 1960. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note. Variant spellings have been retained.
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends