_must_ win! None of you want to become slaves inthe factories of the Invaders. I know that, and you know it. Who amongyou would slave your life away in the sweatshops of the Invaders,knowing that those for whom you worked might, at any time, simplydeprive you of your livelihood at their own whim, since they feel nosense of responsibility toward you as individuals?"
Again The Chief stopped, and his eyes sought out each man in turn.
"If there are any such among you, I renounce you at this moment. Ifthere are any such, I ask ... nay, I plead ... I _order_ ... I order youto go immediately to the Invaders."
Another deep breath. No one moved.
"You have all heard the propaganda of the Invaders. You know that theyhave offered you--well, what? Freedom? Yes, that's the way they term it.Freedom." Another pause. "Freedom. _Hah!_"
He put his hands on his hips. "None of you have ever seen a reallyregimented society--and I'm thankful that you haven't. I hope that younever will."
Chief Samas twisted his lips into an expression of hatred. "Freedom?Freedom from _what_! Freedom to _do_ what?
"I'll tell you. Freedom to work in their factories for twelve hours aday! Freedom to work until you are no longer of any use to them, andthen be turned out to die--with no home, and no food to support you.Freedom to live by yourselves, with every man's hand against you, withevery pittance that you earn taxed to support a government that has nothought for the individual!
"Is that what you want? Is that what you've worked for all your lives?"
A visual chorus of shaken heads accompanied the verbal chorus of "No."
Chief Samas dropped his hands to his sides. "I thought not. But I willrepeat: If any of you want to go to the Invaders, you may do so now."
Anketam noticed a faint movement to his right, but it stopped before itbecame decisive. He glanced over, and he noticed that young Basom wasstanding there, half poised, as though unable to make up his mind.
Then The Chief's voice bellowed out again. "Very well. You are with me.I will leave the work of the barony in your hands. I ask that youproduce as much as you can. Next year--next spring--we will not plant_cataca_."
There was a low intake of breath from the assembled men. Not plant_cataca_? That was the crop that they had grown since--well, since_ever_. Anketam felt as though someone had jerked a rug from beneathhim.
"There is a reason for this," The Chief went on. "Because of theblockade that surrounds Xedii, we are unable to export _cataca_ leaves.The rest of the galaxy will have to do without the drug that isextracted from the leaves. The incident of cancer will rise to the levelit reached before the discovery of _cataca_. When they understand thatwe cannot ship out because of the Invader's blockade, they will forcethe Invader to stop his attack on us. What we need now is not _cataca_,but food. So, next spring, you will plant food crops.
"Save aside the _cataca_ seed until the war is over. The seedlings nowin the greenhouses will have to be destroyed, but that cannot behelped."
He stopped for a moment, and when he began again his voice took on anote of sadness.
"I will be away from you until the war is won. While I am gone, thebarony will be run by my wife. You will obey her as you would me. Thefinances of the barony will be taken care of by my trusted man,Kevenoe." He gestured to one side, and Kevenoe, who was standing there,smiled quickly and then looked grim again.
"As for the actual running of the barony--as far as labor isconcerned--I think I can leave that in the hands of one of my mostcapable men."
He raised his finger and pointed. There was a smile on his face.
Anketam felt as though he had been struck an actual blow; the finger waspointed directly at him.
"Anketam," said The Chief, "I'm leaving the barony in your hands until Ireturn. You will supervise the labor of all the men here. Is thatunderstood?"
"Yes, sir," said Anketam weakly. "Yes, sir. I understand."
IV
Never, for the rest of his life, would the sharp outlines of that momentfade from his memory. He knew that the men of the barony were alllooking at him; he knew that The Chief went on talking afterwards. Butthose things impressed themselves but lightly on his mind, and theyblurred soon afterwards. Twenty years later, in retelling the story, hewould swear that The Chief had ended his speech at that point. He wouldswear that it was only seconds later that The Chief had jumped down fromthe gate and motioned for him to come over; his memory simply didn'tregister anything between those two points.
But The Chief's words after the speech--the words spoken to himprivately--were bright and clear in his mind.
The Chief was a good three inches shorter than Anketam, but Anketamnever noticed that. He just stood there in front of The Chief, wonderingwhat more his Chief had to say.
"You've shown yourself to be a good farmer, Anketam," Chief Samas saidin a low voice. "Let's see--you're of Skebbin stock, I think?"
Anketam nodded. "Yes, sir."
"The Skebbin family has always produced good men. You're a credit to theSkebbins, Anketam."
"Thank you, sir."
"You've got a hard job ahead of you," said The Chief. "Don't fail me.Plant plenty of staple crops, make sure there's enough food foreveryone. If you think it's profitable, add more to the animal stock.I've authorized Kevenoe to allow money for the purchase of breedingstock. You can draw whatever you need for that purpose.
"This war shouldn't last too long. Another year, at the very most, andwe'll have forced the Invaders off Xedii. When I come back, I expect tofind the barony in good shape, d'you hear?"
"Yes, sir. It will be."
"I think it will," said The Chief. "Good luck to you, Anketam."
As The Chief turned away, Anketam said: "Thank you, sir--and good luckto you, sir."
Chief Samas turned back again. "By the way," he said, "there's one morething. I know that men don't always agree on everything. If there is anydispute between you and Kevenoe, submit the question to my wife forarbitration." He hesitated. "However, I trust that there will not bemany such disputes. A woman shouldn't be bothered with such things anymore than is absolutely necessary. It upsets them. Understand?"
Anketam nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Very well. Good-by, Anketam. I hope to see you again before the nextharvest." And with that, he turned and walked through the gate, towardthe woman who was standing anxiously on the porch of his home.
* * * * *
Anketam turned away and started towards his own village. Most of theothers had already begun the trek back. But Jacovik, Blejjo, and Basomwere waiting for him. They fell into step beside him.
After a while, Jacovik broke the silence. "Well, Ank, it looks likeyou've got a big job on your hands."
"That's for sure," said Anketam. He knew that Jacovik envied him thejob; he knew that Jacovik had only missed the appointment by a narrowmargin.
"Jac," he said, "have you got a man on your crew that you can trust totake over your job?"
"Madders could do it, I think," Jacovik said cautiously. "Why?"
"This is too big a job for one man," said Anketam quietly. "I'll needhelp. I want you to help me, Jac."
There was a long silence while the men walked six paces. Then Jacoviksaid: "I'll do whatever I can, Ank. Whatever I can." There was honestwarmth in his voice.
Again there was a silence.
"Blejjo," Anketam said after a time, "do you mind coming out ofretirement for a while?"
"Not if you need me, Ank," said the old man.
"It won't be hard work," Anketam said. "I just want you to take care ofthe village when I'm not there. Settle arguments, assign the villagework, give out punishment if necessary--things like that. As far as thevillage is concerned, you'll be supervisor."
"What about the field work, Ank?" Blejjo asked. "I'm too old to handlethat. Come spring, and--"
"I said, as far as the village is concerned," Anketam said. "I've gotanother man in mind for the field work."
And no one was more surprised than
Basom when Anketam said: "Basom, doyou think you could handle the crew in the field?"
Basom couldn't even find his tongue for several more paces. When hediscovered at last that it was still in his mouth, where he'd left it,he said: "I ... I'll try, Ank. I sure will try, if you want me to. But... well ... I mean, why pick _me_?"
Old Blejjo chuckled knowingly. Jacovik, who hardly knew the boy, justlooked puzzled.
"Why not you?" Anketam countered.
"Well ... you've always said I was lazy. And I am, I