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  THE UNNECESSARY MAN

  BY RANDALL GARRETT

  _Sometimes an organizational setup grows, sets its ways, and becomes so traditional that once-necessary jobs become unnecessary. But it is sometimes quite hard to spot just which man is the unnecessary one. In this case ... not the one you think!_

  Illustrated by Martinez

  _"I recall," said the Businessman, "that William Wrigley, Junior, once said:_ 'When two men in a business always agree, one of them is unnecessary.' _How true that is."_

  _The Philosopher cast his eyes toward Heaven. "O God! The Mercantile Mind!" He looked back at the Businessman. "When two men in a business always agree, one of them will come in handy as a scapegoat."_

  _THE IDLE WORSHIPERS_ by R. Phillip Dachboden

  Lord Barrick Sorban, Colonel, H.I.M.O.G., Ret., sipped gently at hisdrink and looked mildly at the sheaf of newsfacsimile that he'd justbought fresh from the reproducer in the lobby of the Royal Hotel. Sorbandid not look like a man of action; he certainly did not look like aretired colonel of His Imperial Majesty's Own Guard. The most likelyreason for this was that he was neither.

  Not that he was incapable of action on a physical level if it becamenecessary; he was past forty, but his tough, hard body was in as fine ashape as it had been fifteen years before, and his reflexes had slowedonly slightly. The only major change that had occurred in his bodyduring that time had been the replacement of an irreparably damaged lefthand by a prosthetic.

  But Lord Barrick Sorban preferred to use his mind, to initiate action inothers rather than himself, and his face showed it. His was a precisionmind, capable of fast, accurate computations, and his eyes betrayed thefact, but the rest of his face looked, if anything, rather like that ofa gentle, persuasive schoolteacher--the type whom children love andparents admire and both obey.

  Nor was he a retired colonel of the Imperial bodyguard, except on paper.According to the official records, he had been retired for medicalreasons--the missing left hand. In reality, his position in the Imperiumwas a great deal higher than that of an ordinary colonel, and he wasstill in the active service of the Emperor. It was a secret known onlyto a comparative few, and one that was carefully guarded.

  He was a fairly tall man, as an Imperial Guardsman had to be, with afinely-shaped head and dark hair that was shot through with a singlestreak of gray from an old burn wound. In an officer's uniform, helooked impressive, but in civilian dress he looked like a competentbusinessman.

  He held the newsfac in his prosthetic left hand, which wasindistinguishable in appearance and in ordinary usage from the flesh,bone, and blood that it had replaced. Indeed, the right hand, with itsstiff little finger, often appeared to be more useless than the left.The hand, holding the glass of rye-and-ginger, gave an impression ofover-daintiness because of that stiff digit.

  Lord Sorban paid little attention to the other customers in the bar;customers of the Green Room of the Royal Hotel weren't the noisy kind,anyway. He kept his attention on the newsfac for the most part; only asmall amount of awareness was reserved for the approach of the man hewas waiting for.

  The banner line on the newsfac said:

  BAIRNVELL OCCUPIED BY IMPERIAL FORCES

  He read through the article hurriedly, absorbing what facts he didn'tknow, and then flipped over to the editorial page. If he knew the_Globe_, there would sure as Space be an editorial.

  There was.

  At 0231 Greenwich Earth Time, 3/37/229, the forces of the Imperial Government occupied the planet Bairnvell. (See article, Page One.) The ships of the Imperial Space Force landed, purportedly at the request of Obar Del Pargon, rebel leader of the anti-Presidential forces. That such an action should be condoned by the Imperial File is astounding enough; that it should be ordered by the Prime Portfolio himself is almost unbelievable.

  The government of Bairnvell, under the leadership of President Alverdan, was not, by any means, up to the standards of the Empire; the standard of living is lower, and the political freedom of the people is not at all what we are used to. But that is no excuse for interfering with the lawful government of any planet. If the Imperium uses these methods for extending its rule, the time must eventually come when our own civil liberties will be in peril.

  Perhaps Lord Senesin's actions are not so surprising, at that. This is the third time during his tenure as Prime Portfolio that he has arbitrarily exercised his power to interfere in the affairs of governments outside the Empire. Each such action has precipitated a crisis in Galactic affairs, and each has brought the Empire nearer to conflict with the Gehan Federation. This one may be the final act that will bring on interstellar war.

  The ...

  * * * * *

  Colonel Lord Sorban stopped reading as he noticed the approach of theman he'd been waiting for, but he didn't look up until the voice said:

  "I see you've been reading it, my lord." The voice was bitter. "A realfiasco this time, eh?"

  Sorban looked up. "It looks like it might mean trouble," he saidcarefully. "Have you read all of it, Mr. Senesin?"

  The young man nodded. The bitterness in his voice was paralleled by thebitterness reflected in his face. "Oh, yes. I read it. The othernewsfacs pretty much agreed with the _Globe_. I'm afraid my father seemsto be rather in the soup. Being Prime Portfolio in the Terran Empireisn't the easiest way to stay out of trouble. They'll be screaming for aSpecial Election next." He sat down next to the colonel and lowered hisvoice just enough to keep anyone else from hearing it, but not enough tosound conspiratorial. "I think I've got a line on those tapes."

  Colonel Sorban raised an eyebrow. "Really? Well, I wish you luck. If youcan uncover them in time, you may be able to save your father's career,"he said, in a voice that matched Senesin's.

  "You don't sound very concerned, my lord," said young Senesin.

  "It's not that," said the colonel. "I just find it difficult to believethat--" He cut his words off as another man approached.

  The second newcomer was a red-faced, plumpish man with an almostoffensively hearty manner. "Well, well! Good afternoon, Lord Sorban!Haven't seen you in some time. A pleasure to see you again, my lord, adistinct pleasure! I don't get to Honolulu often, you know. How long'sit been? Four years?"

  "Two, I think," said the colonel.

  "Really? Only two? It seems longer. How've you been?"

  "Well enough," said the colonel. "Excuse me--Mr. Heywood, I'd like topresent you to the Honorable Jon Senesin; Mr. Senesin, this is RobarHeywood, of South African Metals."

  While the two men shook hands and mouthed the usual pleasantries,Colonel Lord Sorban watched them with an amusement that didn't show onhis placid face. Young Senesin was rather angry that the _tete-a-tete_had been interrupted, while Heywood seemed flustered and a triflestuffy.

  "So you're the son of our Prime Portfolio, eh?" he said. There was atrace of hostility in his voice.

  Colonel Sorban saw what was coming and made no effort whatsoever to stopit. Instead, he simply sat there in straight-faced enjoyment.

  "That's correct, Mr. Heywood," Senesin said, a little stiffly.

  "I should have known," Heywood said. "You look a great deal like him.Although I don't know that I've ever seen your picture in the newsfacsor on the screens."

  "Dad prefers to keep his family out of the spotlight," said Senesin,"unless we get publicity for something other than the accidental factthat we happen to be the family of the Prime."
r />   "Yes, yes, of course. I see. May I stand the three of us a drink?"Senesin and the colonel were agreeable. The drinks were brought. Heywoodtook a swallow of his, and remarked casually: "Do you agree with yourfather's politics, sir?"

  "I don't know," Senesin said flatly.

  Heywood misunderstood completely. "Yes, I suppose it is a bitdisappointing. Hard for a man's son to divide his loyalty like that. Youcan't support his actions, and yet you hesitate to condemn your ownfather."

  "You mistake my meaning, Mr. Heywood," young Senesin said sharply. "Isaid, 'I don't know' because I honestly don't know what my father'spolitics _is_ any more."

  But Heywood only compounded his error. "Of