Citadel - Algis Budrys

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Citadel by Algis Budress. He was looking for a privacy
his strange personality needed, and never quite seemed to achieve it.
All his efforts were somehow great triumphs of the race
and great failures for him. Section one. The aging man

(00:22):
was sweating profusely, and he darted sidelong glances at the
windowless walls of the outer office. By turns, he sat
stiffly in a corner chair, or paced uneasily, his head
swiveling constantly. His hand was clammy when Mead shook it. Hello,
mister Mead, he said in a husky, hesitant voice, his
eyes never quite still, never long on Meade's face, but

(00:43):
darting hither and yon, his glance rebounding at every turn
from the walls, the floor, the ceiling, the closed outer door.
Christopher Mead, Assistant under Secretary for External Affairs, returned the
hand shake, smiling. Please come into my office, he said, quickly.
It's much more space. Thank you, the aging man said gratefully,
and hurried into the next room. Mead rapidly opened the windows,

(01:07):
and some of the man's nervousness left him. He sank
down into the visitor's chair in front of Meade's desk,
his eyes drinking in the distances beyond the windows. Thank you,
he repeated. Mead sat down behind the desk, leaned back,
and waited for the man's breathing to slow. Finally, he said,
it's good to see you again, mister Holliday. What can
I do for you? Martin Holliday tore his glance away

(01:30):
from the window long enough to raise his eyes to
Meade's face and then drop them to the hands he
had folded too deliberately in his lap. Eyed, his voice
husked into unintelligibility, and he had to begin again. I'd
like to take an option on a new planet, he
said finally. Mead nodded. I don't see why not, he

(01:52):
gestured expressively at the star chart papered over one wall
of his office. We've certainly got plenty of them, but
what happened with your first, mister Holiday. I certainly won't
be offended if you'd prefer to look out the window,
Mead said quickly, thank you. After a moment, he began again.

(02:13):
It didn't work out, he said, his glance flickering back
to Mead for an instant before he had to look
out the window again. I don't know where my figuring
went wrong. It didn't go wrong, it was just just things.
I thought I could sell enough subdivisions to cover the
payments and still keep most of it for myself. But
it didn't work out. He looked quickly at Mead with

(02:34):
a flash of groundless guilt in his eyes. First, I
had to sell more than I'd intended because I had
to lower the original price. Somebody'd option another planet in
the same system, and I hadn't counted on the competition. Then,
even after I'd covered the option and posted surety on
the payments, there were all kinds of expenses. Then I
couldn't least the mineral rights. He looked at Mead again,

(02:56):
as though he had to justify himself. I don't know
how that deal fell through. The company just just withdrew
all of a sudden. Do you think there might have
been anything peculiar about that? Mead asked, I mean, could
the company have made a deal with the colonists for
a lower price after you'd been forced out? Holiday shook
his head quickly. Oh, no, nothing like that. The colonists

(03:19):
and I got along fine. It wasn't as though I
hadn't put the best land up for sale or tried
to make myself rich. Why after I'd had to sell
some of the remaining land, and I knew it wasn't
worth staying any more if some of them offered to
lend me enough money to keep fifty thousand square miles
for myself, he smiled warmly, his eyes blank while he
focused on memory. But that wasn't it, of course, he

(03:41):
went on. I had my original investment back. But I
couldn't tell them why I couldn't stay. It was people,
even if I never saw them. It was the thought
of people with aircraft and rockets and roads, I understand,
mister Holliday, Mead said, in an effort to spare him embarrassment.
Holiday looked at h helplessly. I couldn't tell them that,

(04:02):
could I, mister Mead? They were good people, friendly people
who wanted to help me. I couldn't tell them it
was people, could I? He wet his dry lips and
locked his eyes on the view outside the window. All
I want, mister Mead, is half a planet to myself,
he said softly. He shook his head. Well it'll work

(04:22):
out this time. This time I won't have to sell
so much and I'll have a place to spend what
time I've got left in peace without this this, he
gestured helplessly in an effort to convey his tortured consciousness
of his own fear. Mead nodded quickly as he saw
his features, not convulsively. Of course, mister Holliday will get

(04:42):
you an option on a new planet as quickly as
we can. Thank you, Holliday said again. Can we can
we handle it today? I've had my credit transferred to
a local bank. Certainly, mister Holliday, we won't keep you
on Earth a moment longer than absolutely necessary. He took
a standard form out of a desk drawer and passed
it to Holiday for his signature. I'll be smarter this time,

(05:06):
the aging man said, trying to convince himself as he
uncapped his pen. This time it'll work out. I'm sure
it will, mister Holliday, Mead said. Section two. Marlowe was obese.
He sat behind his desk like a tuskless sea lion
crouched behind a rock, and his cheeks merged into jowls

(05:27):
and obliterated his neck. His desk was built specially so
that he could get his thighs under it. His office
chair was heavier and wider by far than any standard
size its casters, rolling on a special composition base that
had been laid down over the carpeting for Marlowe's weight
would have cut any ordinary rug to shreds. His jacket
stretched like pliofilm to enclose the bulk of his stooped shoulders,

(05:50):
and his eyes surveyed his world behind the battlemented heaviness
of the puffing flesh that filled their sockets. A bulb
flickered on his interfhone set, and marlow shot a glance
at the switch beneath it. Secretary, quite contrary, he muttered inaudibly.
He flicked the switch. Yes, Mary, His voice rumbled out

(06:10):
of the flabby cavern of his chest. Mister Mead just
filed a report on Martin holiday. Mister secretary, would you
like to see it? Just give me a summary, Mary.
Under his breath, he whispered summary that mummery, Mary, and
a thin smile fell about his lips while he listened.
Gave him karlshaven four eh, he observed. When his secretary finished, Okay,

(06:34):
thanks Mary, he switched off and sat thinking somewhere in
the bowels of the body administrative. He knew notations were
being made and cross filed. The addition of karlshaven Ford
to the list of planets under colonization would be made,
and Holiday's asking prices for land would be posted with
emigration together with a prospectus abstracted from the General Galactic Survey.

(06:56):
He switched the interfoe on again. Uh, Mary, supply me
with a copy of the gen serve on the entire
Caral shaven system. Tell mister Mead, I'll expect him in
my office some time this afternoon. You schedule it and
we'll go into it further. Yes, mister Secretary, Will fifteen
fifteen be all right? Fifteen fifteen's fine? Uh Mary, Marlowe

(07:19):
said gently, Yes, sir, His secretary replied, abashed, I keep
forgetting about proper nomenclature. So do I, Mary, So do I?
Marlow sighed. Anything come up that wasn't scheduled for to day?
It was a routine question born of futile hope. There
was always something to spoil the carefully planned daily schedules.

(07:39):
Yes and no, Sir, marlow cocked an eyebrow at the interphone.
Well that's a slight change anyway. What is it. There's
a political science observer from Dovenill that's more too on
our maps, Sir, who's requested permission to talk to you.
He's here on the usual exchange program, and he's within
his privileges and asking. Of course, I assume it's the

(08:00):
ordinary thing. What's our foreign policy? How do you apply it?
Can you give specific instances and the like? Precisely, Marlow
thought for ordinary questions there were standard answers, and Mary
had been his secretary for so long that she could
supply them as well as he could. Dovenil more too.
A Obviously there was something special about the situation, and

(08:23):
Mary was leaving the decision to him. He scanned through
his memorized star catalogs, trying to find the correlation. Mister Secretary,
Marlow grunted, Still here, just thinking, isn't Dovenil that nation
we just sent Harrison to, Yes, Sir, on the same
exchange program. Marlow chuckled, Well, if we've got Harrison down there,

(08:45):
it's only fair to let their fellow learn something in exchange,
isn't it. What's his name? Dalish Ud Klavin, Sir, Marlow
muttered to himself. Dalish Ud klavin Irish corned beef and cabbage.
His mind filed it away together with a primary color
picture of Jigs and Maggie. All right, Mary, I'll talk

(09:06):
to him if you can find room in the schedule somewhere.
Tell you what let him in at fifteen thirty meat,
and I can furnish a working example for him. Does
that check all right with your book? Yes, sir, there'll
be time if we carry over on the cerrole incidents,
Sorolei's waited six years, four months and twenty three days.
They'll wait another day. Let's do that then, uh, Mary, Yes, sir.

(09:30):
Marlow switched off and picked up a report, which he
began to read by the page block system, his eyes
almost unblinking between pages. Harrison, eh, he muttered, once, stopping
to look quizzically at his desktop. He chuckled section three.
At fifteen fifteen, The light on his inter phone blinked twice,

(09:50):
and Marlow hastily initial a directive with his right hand
while touching the switch with his left. Yes, Mary, mister mead,
sir okay. He switched off, pushed the directive into his
out box, and pulled the gens serve and the folder on,
Martin Holliday out of the whole tray. Come in, Chris,
he said, as Mead knocked on the door. How are

(10:11):
you today, mister Marlow, Mead asked, as he sat down
four ounces heavier. Marlowe answered dryly, I presume you're not
cigarette Chris. Apparently the use of the first name finally
caught Meade's notice. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then
took a cigarette and lit it. Thanks Dave, Well, I'm
glad that's settled. Marlow chuckled, his eyes, almost disappearing in

(10:32):
crinkles of flesh. How's Mary, Mead grinned crookedly. Miss folsom
is in fine fettle to day. Thank you, Marlow rumbled
a laugh. Mead had once made the mistake of addressing
the woman as Mary, under the natural assumption that if
Marlow could do it, every one could Mary. I fear,
Marlowe observed, lives in more stately times than these. She'll

(10:57):
tolerate informality from me because I'm in direct authorough over her,
and direct authority, of course is law. But you need
you are a young whipper snapper. But that's totally unrealistic,
Meat protested, I don't respect her less by using her
first name. It's just just friendliness, that's all. Look, Marlow said,

(11:17):
it makes sense, but it ain't logical, not on her terms.
Mary Fulsom was raised by a big, tough, tight lipped
authoritarian of a father who believed in bringing kids up
by the book. By the time she got tumbled out
into the world, all big men were unquestionably authority and
all young men were callow whipper snappers. Sure, she's unhappy
about it inside, but it makes her a perfect secretary

(11:40):
for me, and she does her job well. We play
by her rules on the little things and by the
world's rules on the big ones. Kabish, Sure, Dave. But
Marlow picked up the folder on holiday and gave mead
one weighty but understanding look before he opened it. Your trouble, Chris,
is that your viewpoint is fundamental. He's sane, he said,

(12:01):
now about holiday Martin options zero six two two six
eight seven two nine zero six three one zero eight
one zero zero four. I didn't get time to read
the gen serve on the Carl Shaven Planet, so I'll
ask you to brief me. Yes, sir, what's four like
good arable land? A little mountainous and spots, but that's good.

(12:25):
Loaded with minerals industrial stuff like silver, some tin, but
not enough to depress the monetary standard. Lots of copper,
coal beds, petroleum basins. The works self supporting practically from
the start, a real asset to the union in fifty
six years. Marlow nodded, good, nice picking. Chris now got

(12:47):
a decoy, Yes, Sir Carl Shaven. Two's a false e.
I've got a dummy option on it in the works,
and we'll be able to undercut Holiday's prices for his
land by about twenty percent fall e huh. How long
do you figure until the colony can't stick on it
any longer? A fair sized one with lots of financial

(13:07):
backing might even make it permanently, But we won't be
able to dig up that many loafers, and naturally we
can't give them that big a subsidy. Eventually, we'll have
to ferry them all out in about eight years, say,
but that'll give us time enough to break Holiday. Marlow nodded, again,
sounds good. Something else, Mead said. Two's mineral poor. It's

(13:29):
near to being solid metal. That's what makes it impossible
to really live on, but I figure we can switch
the mineral companies right onto it and off of four.
Marlow grinned approvingly. You've been saving this one for holiday, yes,
Sir Mead said, nodding slowly. He looked hesitantly at MARLOWE
what's up, boy, well, Sir Mead began, then stopped, Nothing important, really.

(13:54):
Marlow gave him a surprising look, full of sadness and brooding. Understanding,
you're thinking he's an old, frightened man, and why don't
we leave him alone? Why? Yes, sir Dave, Yes, Dave,
you're quite right. Why don't we We can't, Sir, I
know that, but it doesn't seem fair exactly, Chris. It

(14:15):
ain't right, but it's correct. The light on Marlow's interfoone
blinked once. Marlow looked at it in momentary surprise. Then
his features cleared and he muttered cabbage. He reached out
toward the switch. We've got a visitor, Chris, follow my lead.
He reviewed his information on Dovenalid Tituler systems while he
touched the switch, ask Oodklavin to come in, uh Mary.

(14:40):
Section four dalish Ud Klavin was almost a twin for
the pictured typical Dovenalid in Marlowe's library. Since the pictures
were usually idealized, it followed that Clavin was an above
average specimen of his people. He stood a full eight
feet from fetters to crest, and had not yet begun
to thicken his shoes in compensation for the stoop that

(15:02):
marked advancing middle age for his race. Marlow looked at him,
smiled inwardly. No Dovenilid could be so obviously superior and
still only a lowly student. Well, considering Harrison's qualifications, it
might still not be tit for tat. Mead began to
get to his feet, and Marlow hastily planted a foot

(15:22):
atop his nearest shoe. The assistant winced and twitched his lips,
but at least he stayed down. Dalish ud Klavin, the
Dovenilid pronounced in good English, Dave Marlowe, Secretary for External Affairs,
Solar Union. Marlowe replied, ood Klavin looked expectantly at Mead.
Christopher Mead, Assistant under Secretary for External Affairs. The assistant said,

(15:44):
orienting himself, if you would do us the honor of
permitting us to stand, Marlow asked, politely. On the contrary, MARLOWE,
if you would do me the honor of permitting me
to sit, I should consider it a privilege. Please do so,
mister Mead, if you would bring our visitor a chair.
They lost themselves in formalities for a few minutes, Marlow

(16:05):
being urbanely correct, Mead following after as best he could
through the maze of dovenilid mores. Finally they were able
to get down to the business at hand. Ood Klovin
sitting with considerable comfort in the carefully designed chair, which
could be snapped into almost any shape, Marlow bulking behind
his desk, Mead sitting somewhat nervously beside him. Now, as

(16:28):
I understand it, Udklovin, Marlow began, you'd like to learn
something of our policies and methods, That is correct, Marlow
and Meade. The Dovenolid extracted a block of opaque material
from the flat wallet at his side and studied it
on his knee. I have your permission to take notes.
Please do now. As it happens, mister Mead and I

(16:49):
are currently considering a case which perfectly illustrates our policies.
Ood Klovin immediately traced a series of videographs on the
note block, and marlow wondered if he was actually going
to take their conversation down verbatim. He shrugged mentally, he'd
have to ask him at some later date whether he'd
missed anything. Undoubtedly there'd be a spare recording of the

(17:10):
tape he himself was making to begin. As you know,
our government is founded upon principles of extreme personal freedom.
There are no arbitrary laws governing expression, worship, the possession
of personal weapons, or the rights of personal property. The
state is construed to be a mechanism of public service
operated by the body politic, and the actual regulation and

(17:33):
regimentation of society is accomplished by natural socioeconomic laws, which
of course are both universal and unavoidable. We pride ourselves
on the high status of the individual in comparison to
the barely tolerable existence of the state. We do naturally
have ordinances and injunctions governing crimes, but even these are

(17:53):
usually superseded by civil actions at the personal level. Marlowe
leaned forward a trifle for getting exact principles for a moment,
ud Klavin, You realize that the actuality will sometimes stray
from the ideal. Our citizens, for example, do not habitually
carry weapons except under extraordinary conditions. But that is a

(18:13):
civil taboo rather than a fixed amendation of our constitution.
I have no doubt that some future generation Mores, having shifted, will,
for example, revive the code duello ood Klovin nodded, quite understood,
Thank you, Marlowe. Good now to proceed under conditions such
as those, the state and its agencies cannot lay down

(18:36):
a fixed policy of any sort and expect it to
be in the least bit permanent. The people will not
tolerate such regulation. And with each new shift in social
Mores and the institution of any policy, is itself sufficient
to produce such a shift. Within a short time, successive
policies are repudiated by the body politic, and new ones
must be instituted. Marlowe leaned back and spread his hands. Therefore,

(19:00):
he said, with a rueful smile, it can fairly be
said that we have no foreign policy. Effectively speaking, we
pursue the expedient ud Klavin and hope for the best.
The case which mister Mead and I are currently considering
is typical the Union. As you know, maintains a general
Survey Corps, whose task it is to map the galaxy,

(19:22):
surveying such planets as harbor alien races or seem suitable
for human colonization. Such a survey team, for example, first
established contact between your people and ours, Exchange observation rights
are worked out, and representatives of both races are given
the opportunity to acquaint themselves with the society of the other.

(19:42):
In the case of unoccupied habitable planets, however, the state's
function ceases with the filing of a complete and definite
survey at the under Ministry for Emigration. The state as
a state sponsors no colonies and makes no establishments, except
for the few staging bases which are maintained for the
use of the survey Corps. We have not yet found

(20:03):
any need for the institution of an offensive service analogous
to a planetary army, nor do we expect to. War
in space is possible only under extraordinary conditions, and we
foresee no such contingency. All our colonization is carried out
by private citizens who apply to mister Mead here for
options on suitable unoccupied planets. Mister Mead's function is to

(20:27):
act as a consultant. In these cases, he maintains a
roster of surveyed human habitable planets and either simply assigns
the requested planet or recommends one to fit specified conditions.
The cost of the option is sufficient to cover the
administrative effort involved, together with sufficient profit to the government
to finance further surveys. The individual holding the option is

(20:49):
then referred to emigration, which provides copies of a prospectus
taken from the general survey report and advertises the option
holders asking prices on subdivisions. Again, there is a reasonable
fee of a nature similar to ours, devoted to the
same purposes. The state then ceases to have any voice
in the projected colonization whatsoever. It is a totally private enterprise,

(21:11):
a simple real estate operation, if you will, with the
state acting only as an advertising agency and occasionally as
the lessor of suitable transportation from Earth to the new planet.
The colonists, of course, are under our protection, maintaining full
citizenship unless they request independence, which is freely granted. If
you would like to see it for purposes of clarification,

(21:34):
you are welcome to examine our file on Martin Holiday.
A citizen who is fairly typical of these real estate operators,
and who has just filed an option on his second planet. Smiling,
Marlowe extended the folder. Thank you, I should like to,
ud Klavin said, and took the file from Marlowe. He
leaped through it rapidly, pausing after asking Marlow's leave to

(21:55):
make notes on some of the information, and then handed
it back. Most interesting, Udklavin observed. However, if you'll enlighten
me this man Martin holiday, wouldn't there seem to be
very little incentive for him considering his age, even if
there is the expectation of a high monetary return, particularly
since his first attempt, while not failure, was not an

(22:18):
outstanding financial success. Marlow shrugged helplessly. I tend to agree
with you thoroughly, ood Klavin, but he smiled, you'll agree.
I'm sure that one earth man's boredom is another's incentive.
We are not a rigorously logical race, Oodklavin. Quite the Dovenolid,
replied Section five. Marlow stared at his irrevocable clock. His

(22:43):
interfhone light flickered, and he touched the switch absently. Yes, Mary,
will there be anything else? Mister secretary. No, thank you, Mary,
good night, good night, sir. There was no appeal. The
day was over and he had to go home. He
stared helplessly at his empty office, his mind automatically counting
the pairs of departing footsteps that sounded momentarily as clerks

(23:05):
and stenographers crossed the walk below his partly open window. Finally,
he rolled his chair back and pushed himself to his feet. Disconsolate,
he moved irresolutely to the window and watched the people
leave Washington, aging crowded Washington, mazed by narrow streets carrying
the burden of the severe, unimaginative past on its grimy architecture,

(23:28):
respired heavily under the sinking sun. The capital ought to
be moved, he thought, as he'd thought every night at
this time, nearer the heart of the Empire, out of
this steamy bog, out of this warren. His heavy lips
moved into an ironical comment on his own thoughts. No
one was ever going to move the empire's traditional seat.

(23:49):
There was too much nostalgia concentrated here along with the humidity. Someday,
when the Union was contiguous with the entire galaxy, men
would still call Washington on old, out of the way Earth,
their capital. Man was not a rigorously logical race. As
a race, the thought of going home broke out afresh, insidiously,
avoiding the barriers of amusement which he had tried to erect,

(24:12):
and he turned abruptly away from the window, moving decisively
so as to be able to move at all. He
yanked open a desk drawer and stuffed his jacket pockets
with candy bars, ripping the film from one and chewing
on its end while he put papers in his briefcase. Finally,
he could not delay any longer. Everyone else was out
of the building, and the robots were taking over metal

(24:33):
treads spun along the corridor's bearing brooms, and the robots
switchboards guarded the communications of the ministry. Soon the shar
robots would be bustling into this very office. He sighed
and walked slowly out down the empty halls, where no
human eye could see him. Waddling, He stepped into his car,
and as he opened the door, the automatic recording said

(24:55):
home please in his own voice. The car waited until
he was settled, and then excel rated gently, pointing for
his apartment. The recording had been an unavoidable but vicious
measure of his own. He'd had to resort to it,
for the temptation to drive to a terminal, to an
airport or rocket field, or railroad station anywhere, had become excruciating.

(25:16):
The car stopped for a pedestrian light, and a sports
model bounced jauntily to a stop beside it. The driver
cocked an eyebrow at Marlowe and chuckled, say fatso, which
one of you's the buick? Then the light changed, the
car spurted away and left Marlowe cringing. He would not
get an official car and protect himself with its license number.

(25:36):
He would not be a coward. He would not. His
fingers shaking, he tore the film from another candy bar.
Marlow huddled in his chair, the notebook clamped on one
broad thigh by his heavy hand, his lips mumbling nervously
while his pencil point checked off meter. Dwell in aching discontent,
he muttered, no er not that he down at the floor,

(26:01):
his eyes distant. Bitter discontent, he whispered. He grunted softly
with the breath that had to force its way past
the constricting weight of his hunched chest, bitter dwell. He
crossed out the third line, substituted the new one, and
began to read the first two verses to himself, we
are born of humankind. This is our destiny, to bitter

(26:25):
dwell in discontent wherever we may be, to strangle with
the burden of that which heals us on, to stake
our fresh beginnings when frailer breeds have done. He smiled briefly,
content it still wasn't perfect, but it was getting closer.
He continued to pile upon the ashes of races in decease,

(26:48):
such citadels of our kind's own as fortify. No, what
are you doing, David, his wife asked over his shoulder. Flinching,
he pulled the notebook closer into his lap, bending forward
in an instinctive effort to protect it. The warm, loving,
sawing voice went on, are you writing another poem? David? Why?
I thought you'd given that up. It's nothing, really, uh, Leonora,

(27:13):
nothing much, just a thing I've had running around my head.
Wanted to get rid of it. His wife leaned over
and kissed his cheek clumsily. Why you, old, big dear.
I'll bet it's for me, isn't it? David, isn't it
for me? He shook his head in almost desperate regret.
I'm I'm afraid, not snore. It's about something else. Lenora. Oh.

(27:36):
She came around the chair, and he furtively wiped his
cheek with a hasty hand. She sat down, facing him,
smiling with entreaty. Would you read it to me anyway? David? Please?
Dear well, it's not not finished yet. Not right. You
don't have to, David, It's not important, not really, She
sighed deeply. He picked up the notebook, his breath cold

(28:00):
in his constricted throat. All right, he said, the words,
coming out huskily. I'll read it, but it's not finished yet.
If you don't want to, He began to read hurriedly,
his eyes locked on the notebook, his voice a suppressed, hoarse,
spasmodic whisper. Such citadels of our own kind's own as fortify.

(28:20):
No peace, no walk can offer shelter, no roof can
shield from pain. We cannot rest. We are the damned.
We must go forth again, unnumbered, We must. David. Are
you sure about those last lines? She smiled apologetically. I
know I'm old fashioned, but couldn't you change that? It

(28:40):
seems so harsh, and I think you may have unconsciously
borrowed it from someone else. I can't help thinking I've
heard it before somewhere, don't you think so. I don't know, dear.
You may be right about that word, but it doesn't
really matter, does it. I mean, I'm not going to
try to get it published or anything, I know, dear.
But still, he was looking at her desperately. I'm sorry, dear,

(29:05):
she said contritely. Please go on, don't pay any attention
to my stupid comments. They're not stupid, Please, dear, go on,
His fingers clamped on the edge of the notebook, unnumbered.
We must wander, break and bleed, and die, implacable as ocean,
our tide must drown the sky. What is our expiation for?

(29:28):
What primeval crime that we must go on marching until
the crash of time? What hand has shaped so cruelly?
What whim has cast such fate? Where is in our
creation the botch that makes us great? Oh that's good, darling,
that's very good. I'm proud of you, David. I think

(29:50):
it stinks, he said, evenly. But anyway, there are two
more verses. David grimly, he spat out the last eight lines.
Wh Are we ever gimleted by Empire's irony? Is discontent?
The cancered pride of earth Man's galaxy? Leonora, recoiling from
his cold fury, was a shaking pair of shoulders and

(30:13):
a mass of blank hair, supported by her hands on
her face while she sobbed our souls so much perverted?
Can we not relent? Or are the stars the Madman's
cost for his inborn discontent? Good night, Leonora? Section six.

(30:33):
The light flickered on Marlowe's interphone. Good morning, mister secretary,
Good morning Mary. What's up? Harrison's being deported from Dovenill. Sir,
there's a civil crime charged against him, quite a serious one.
Marlow's eyebrows went up. How much have we got on it?
Not much, Sir. Harrison's report hasn't come in yet, but

(30:54):
the story's on the news broadcasts now. Sir. We haven't
been asked to comment yet, but emigration has been called
by several news outlets, and the Ministry for Education just
called here and inquired whether it would be all right
to publish a general statement of their exchange students careful
instructions against violating local customs Marlowe's glance brooded down on
the mass of papers piled in the tray of his inbox.

(31:17):
Give me a tape of a typical broadcast, he said,
at last, hold everything else. Present explanations to all news outlets.
None now a statement forthcoming after a preliminary investigation later
in the day. The Ministry regrets this incident deeply and
will try to settle matters as soon and as amicably
as possible, et cetera, et cetera. Okay, yes, sir. He

(31:40):
swung his chair around to face the screen let into
a side wall, and colors began to flicker and run
in the field. Almost immediately they steadied and sharpened, and
the broadcast tape began to roll. Dateline Dovenil Sector three,
Day one eighty three, twenty four seventeen GST, your topical
news reporter on this small planet at the Union's rim

(32:01):
was unable to day to locate for comment any of
the high officials of this alien civilization directly concerned with
the order for the deportation of exchange student observer Hubert
Harrison charged with theft and violent assault on the person
of a Dovenolid citizen. Union citizen Harrison was unavailable for
comment at this time, but Topical News will present his

(32:22):
views and such other clues when more ensues. Marlowe grunted.
Journalese was getting out of hand again. That last rhyming
sentence was sure to stick in the audience's brains. It
might be only another advertising gimmick, but if they started
doing it with the body of the news itself, it
might be well to feed Topical enough false leads to

(32:43):
destroy what little reputation for comprehensibility they had left. He
touched his interfhone switch Uh Mary? What was the hooper
on that broadcast? Under one percent? Sir? Which meant that
so far the body politic hadn't reacted? Thank you? Is
there anything else coming in? Not at the moment, sir?
What's cabbage? Eh? What's dalishould Clavan doing? His residence is

(33:08):
the Solar Hostel, Sir? The management reports that he is
still in his room and has not reserved space on
any form of long distance transportation. He has not contacted
us either, and there is a strong probability that he
may still be unaware of what's happened. How many calls
did he make yesterday, either before or after he was
here and to whom I can get you a list

(33:30):
in ten minutes, Sir, do that Mary. He switched off,
sat slapping the edge of his desk with his hand,
and switched on again. Mary, I want the Gen Serves
on the Dovenil area to a depth of ten cubic lights. Yes, sir,
and get me mister Mead on the phone, please, Yes, sir.
Marlow's lips pulled back from his teeth. As he switched off.

(33:52):
He snatched a candy bar out of his drawer, tore
the film part way off, and threw it back in
the drawer as his desk phone chimed Here, Chris here,
mister Marlowe. Look, Chris has holiday left Earth yet? Yes,
sir yet? Yes? Dave? Where is he? Luna? And route
to Karlshaven. He was lucky enough to have me arrange

(34:13):
for his accidentally getting a ride on a Gen Serve
ship that happened to be going that way. If you
follow me, Mead Grinned get him back. The smile blanked out.
I I can't do that, mister Marlowe. He'd never be
able to take it. You should have seen him when
I put him on the shuttle We doped him up
with easy rest, and even then his subconscious could feel
the bulkheads around him even in his sleep. Those shuttles

(34:36):
are small and they don't have ports. We can't help that.
We need him, and I've got to talk to him
first personally. Mead bit his lip. Yes, Sir, Dave, Yes,
Dave section seven dalish ud Klavan sat easily in his
chair opposite Marlowe. He rested one digit on his note

(34:57):
book and waited, ud Kla Marlow said, amiably, you are
undoubtedly aware by now that your opposite number on Dovenil
has been charged with a civil crime and deported the
dovenilid nodded. An unfortunate incident, one that I regret personally
and which I am sure my own people would much
rather not have had happened naturally, Marlow smiled. I simply

(35:20):
wanted to reassure you that this incident does not reflect
on your own status in any way. We are investigating
our representative and will take appropriate action, but it seems
quite clear that the fault is not with your people.
We have already forwarded reparations and a note of apology
to your government. As further reparation. I wish to assure
you personally that we will co operate with your personal

(35:42):
observations in every possible way. If there is anything at
all you wish to know, even what might under ordinary
conditions be considered restricted information, just call on us. Ud
Klavan's chest stirred a fraction of an inch, and marlowe
chuckled inwardly. Well, even a brilliant spy might be forgiven
an outward display of surprise under these circumstances. The Dovenilid

(36:04):
gave him a piercing look, but Marlow presented a featureless
facade of bulk. The Secretary chuckled in his mind once more.
He doubted if Udklavan could accept the hypothesis that Marlow
did not know he was a spy. But the Dovnlid
must be a sorely confused being at this point. Thank you, Marlow,
he said, finally, I am most grateful, and I am

(36:25):
sure my people will construe it as yet another sign
of the Union's friendship. I hope so Udklavan, Marlow replied.
Having exchanged this last friendly lie, they went through the
customary Dovenlid formula of leave taking. Marlow slapped his interfoone
switch as soon as the alien was gone. Uh, Mary,
what's the latest on holiday? His shuttle lands at Ilewild

(36:47):
in half an hour, Sir, all right, get mister Mead,
have him meet me out front, and get an official
car to take us to the field. I'll want somebody
from Emigration to go with us. Call Idlewild and have
them set up a desk and chairs for four out
in the middle of the field. Call the Ministry for
traffic and make sure that field stays clear until we're
through with it. My ministerial prerogative and no back talk.

(37:09):
I want that car in ten minutes. Yes, sir. Mary's
voice was perfectly even without the slightest hint that there
was anything unusual happening. Marlow switched off and twisted his mouth.
He picked up the gen serve on the Dovenell area
and began skimming it rapidly. He kept his eyes carefully
front as he walked out of his office, past the

(37:30):
battery of clerks in the outer office and down the hall.
He kept them rigidly fixed on the door of his
personal elevator, which during the day was human operated under
the provisions of the Human Employment Act of twenty three
o two. He met Mead in front of the building
and did not look into the eyes of Boussard, the
man from emigration, as they shook hands. He followed them

(37:50):
down the walk in a sweating agony of obliviousness, and
climbed into the car with carefully normal lack of haste.
He sat sweating, chewing a candy bar for several minutes
before he spoke. Then, slowly he felt his battered defenses
reassert themselves and he could actually look at Boussard before
he turned to Mead. Now. Then he wrapped out a

(38:10):
shade two abruptly before he caught himself. Here's the gen
serve on the Dovenil area, Chris, anything in it you
don't know already? I don't think so, sir. Okay, dig
me up a habitable planet, even a long term false
e will do close to Dovenil, but not actually in
their system, if it's at all possible. I want that

(38:31):
world in a system without any rich planets, and I
don'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 rights to suitable companies. I want
that planet to be habitable, but I want it to
be impossible for any people on it to get it
enough resources to achieve a technological culture can do. Mead

(38:52):
shook his head. I don't know. You've got about fifteen
minutes to find out. I'm going to start talking to Holiday,
and when I tell him I've got another planet for him,
I'll be depending on you to furnish one. Sorry to
pile it on like this, but must be. Mead nodded, right,
mister Marlowe. That's why I draw pay good boy now,

(39:13):
Rabbit Boussard. I want you to be ready to lay
out a complete advertising and prospectus program. Straight routine work,
but about four times normal speed. The toughest part of
it will be following the lead that Chris and I set.
Don't be surprised at anything, and act like it happens
every day, Yes, mister Marlowe. Right. Bussard looked uncomfortable, mister Marlowe. Yes,

(39:38):
about this man Harrison, I presume all this is the
result of what happened to him on Dovenil. Do you
think there's any foundation in truth for what they say
he did or do you think it's just an excuse
to get him off their world. Marlow looked at him coldly.
Don't be an ass, he snorted. Section eight. Martin. Holiday

(39:58):
climbed slowly out of the shuttles lock and moved fumblingly
down the stairs, leaning on the attendant's arm. His face
was a modeled gray and his hands shook uncontrollably. He
stepped down the tarmac and his head turned from side
to side as his eyes gulped the field's distances. Marlow
sat behind the desk that had been put down the
middle of this emptiness, his eyes brooding as he looked

(40:19):
at Holiday. Bussard stood beside him, trying nervously to appear noncommittal.
While Mead went up to the shaking old man, grasped
his hand and brought him over to the desk. Marlow
shifted uncomfortably. The desk was standard size and he had
to sit 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 he peeled

(40:41):
the film off a candy bar, and he began to
eat it, holding it in his left hand. As Mead
introduced Holiday, how do you do mister Holliday? Marlow said,
his voice higher than he would have liked it, while
he shook the man's hand. I'm I'm pleased to meet you,
mister secretary, Holiday replied, his eyes were darting past marlowe head.
This is mister Boussard of Emigration, and you know mister Mead.

(41:04):
Of course, now I think we can all sit down.
Meade's chair was next to Holidays, and Boussard's was to
one side of the desk, so that only Marlowe unavoidably
blocked his complete view of the stretching tarmac. First of all,
mister 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 it were not urgently necessary.

(41:26):
It's all right, Holiday said in a low apologetic voice.
I don't mind. Marlow winced, but he had to go on.
Have you seen a news broadcast recently, mister Holliday. The
man shook his head in embarrassment. No, sir, I've been
asleep most of the time. I understand, mister Holliday, I
didn't really expect you had under the circumstances. The situation

(41:47):
is this some time ago, our survey ships, working out
in their usual expanding pattern, encountered an alien civilization on
a world designated more too on our maps and which
the natives call Dovenell. It was large a routine matter,
no different from any other alien contact which we've had.
They had a relatively high technology embracing the beginnings of

(42:07):
interplanetary flight, and our contact teams were soon able to
work out a 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 connection with himself. Some of
his nervousness was beginning to fade, but it was impossible

(42:29):
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, Marlow went on as
quickly as he could. Today our representative was deported on
a trumped up charge. Undoubtedly this is only the first
move in some complicated scheme directed against the Union. What
it is we do not yet know, but further observation

(42:51):
of the actions of their own representative on this planet
has convinced us that they are a clever, ruthless people
living in a society which would have put Machiavelli to shares.
They are single minded of purpose and welded into a
tight group whose major purpose in life is the service
of the state in its major purpose, which by all indications,
is that of eventually dominating the universe. You know our

(43:13):
libertarian society. You know that the Union government is almost powerless,
and that the Union itself is nothing but a loose
federation composed of a large number of independent nations, tied
together 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
out maneuvered us once, despite our best efforts. There is

(43:35):
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. For this reason, I earnestly
request that you accept our offer of another planet than
the one you have optioned, closer to the Dovenilids system.
We are willing, under these extraordinary circumstances, to consider your
credit sufficient for the outright purchase of half the planet,

(43:58):
and mister Boussard here will do his line utmost to
get you suitable colonists for the other half as rapidly
as it can be done. Will you help us? Mister
Holliday Marlow sank back in his chair. He became conscious
of a messy feeling in his left hand, and looked
down to discover the half eaten candy bar had melted.
He tried furtively to wipe his hand on the under

(44:18):
side of the desk, but he knew Bussard had noticed,
and he cringed and cursed himself. Holliday's face twisted nervously.
I I I don't know. Please don't misunderstand us, mister
Holliday Marlow said. We do not intend to ask you
to spy for us, nor are we acting with the
intention of now establishing a base of any sort on

(44:38):
the planet. We simply would like to have a union
world near the Dovenilid system. Whatever Dovenil does will not
have gathered significant momentum. By the end of your life,
you will be free to end your days exactly as
you have always wished, and the precautions we have outlined
will ensure that there will be no encroachments on your
personal property during that time. We are planning for the

(45:00):
next generation, when Dovenill will be initiating its program of expansion.
It is then that we will need an established outpost
near their borders. Yes, Holliday said hesitantly, I can understand that.
I don't know, he repeated. It seems all right, and
as you say, it won't matter during my lifetime, and
it's more than I had really hoped for. He looked

(45:22):
nervously at Mead. What do you think, mister Mead? You've
always done your best for me. Mead shot one quick
glance at Marlowe. I think mister Marlowe's doing his best
for the union, he said finally, and I know he
is fully aware of your personal interests. I think what
he's doing is reasonable under the circumstances, and I think
his proposition to you, as he's outlined it is something

(45:43):
which you cannot afford to not consider. The final decision
is up to you, of course. Holliday nodded slowly, staring
down at his hands. Yes, yes, I think you're right,
mister Mead. He looked up at Marlowe. I'll be glad
to help, and I'm grateful for the consideration you've done
shown me. Not at all, mister Holliday. The Union is
in your debt. Marlow wiped his hand on the under

(46:06):
side of the desk again, but he only made matters
worse for his fingers picked up some of the chocolate
he had removed before. Mister Mead, will you give mister
Holliday the details on the new planet, he said, trying
to get his handkerchief out without smearing his suit. He
could almost hear Boussard's snickering. Holiday signed the new option
contract and shook Marlow's hand. I'd like to thank you again, sir.

(46:27):
Looking at it from my point of view, it's something
for nothing, at least while I'm alive. And it's a
very nice planet too, from the way mister Mead described it,
even better than Karlshaven. Nevertheless, mister Holliday, Marlow said, you
have done the Union a great service. We would consider
it an honor if you allowed us to enter your
planet in our records under the name of Holiday. He

(46:48):
kept his eyes away from Mead. Martin Holliday's eyes were shining.
Thank you, mister Marlow, he said, huskily. Marlow could think
of no reply. Finally, he simply nodded, it's been a
p pleasure meeting you, mister Holliday. We've arranged transportation and
your shuttle will be taking off very shortly. Holliday's face
began to bead with fresh perspiration at the thought of

(47:09):
bulkheads enclosing him once more, but he managed to smile
and then asked, hesitantly, may I may I wait for
the shuttle out here, sir? Certainly we'll arrange for that. Well, goodbye,
mister Holliday, Goodbye mister Marlowe, Goodbye mister Bussard, and goodbye
mister Mead. I don't suppose you'll be seeing me again.
Good luck, mister Holliday, Mead said. Marlow twisted awkwardly on

(47:33):
the car's back seat, wiping futilely at the long smear
of chocolate on his trouser pocket. Well, he thought, at
least he'd given the old man his name on the
star maps 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 die in peace, have we?
He asked? Marlow shook his head. I suppose we'll have

(47:55):
to start breaking him immediately, won't we. Marlow nodded, I'll
get at it right away, Sir Dave, does everyone have
to hate me? Can't anyone understand? Even you a creed?
Even you mead Section nine dalish Udklavan stooped and withered,
sat hopelessly opposite Marlowe, who sat behind his desk like

(48:17):
a grizzled polar bear, his thinning mane of white hair,
unkempt and straggling. Marlow, My people are strangling the old
Dovenolid said. Marlow looked at him silently. The Holiday Republic
has signed treaty after treaty with us, and still their
citizens raid our mining planets, drive away our own people,
stealing the resources we must have if we are to live.

(48:39):
Marlow sighed, there's nothing I can do. We have gone
to the Holiday government repeatedly, Udklavan pleaded. They tell us
their raiders are criminals, that they are doing their best
to stop them, but they still buy the metal the
raiders bring them. They have to. Marlow said, there are
no available resources anywhere within practicable distances. If they're to
have any civilization at all, they've got to buy from

(49:02):
the outlaws, but they are members of the union, Udklovan protested,
why won't you do anything to stop them? We can't,
Marlow said again, they're members of the Union, yes, but
they're also a free republic. We have no administrative jurisdiction
over them, and if we attempted to establish one, our
citizens would rise in protest all over our territory. Then

(49:23):
we're finished. Dovenall is a dead world. Marlow 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 the Dovenilid state. Udklevan looked at
him bitterly. Thank you, he said, thank you for your
generous offer of a gracious funeral. I don't understand you,

(49:45):
he burst out suddenly. I don't understand you people. Diplomatic lies, yes,
expediency yes, but this, this madness, this fanatical, illogical devotion
of the state in the cause of a people who
will tolerate no state. This, no, this I cannot understand.
Marlow looked at him, his eyes full of years. Oud

(50:08):
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 not binding, and our promises are worthless.
Our government does not represent our people. It represents our
people as they once were. The delay in the democratic
process is such that the treaty signed today fulfills the

(50:28):
promise of yesterday. But today the body politic has formed
a new opinion is following a new logic which is
completely at variance with that of yesterday. An earth man's
promise expressed in words or deeds is good only at
the instant he makes it. A second later, new factors
have entered into the total circumstances, and a new chain
of logic has formed in his head, to be altered again.

(50:51):
A few seconds later. He thought suddenly of that poor
claustrophobic devil holiday, harried from planet to planet, never given
a moment's rest than civilizing, civilizing, spreading the race of
humankind wherever he was, driven civilizing with a fervor no
higher dummy could have accomplished. Driven by his fear to
sell with all the real estate agent's talent that had

(51:13):
been born in him, selling for the sake of money
with which to buy that land he needed for his peace,
and always being forced to sell a little too much out,
Klavan rose from his chair. You are also right, Marlowe.
You are a race of maniacs gibbering across the stars.
And know, Marlowe, that the other races of the universe

(51:34):
hate you. Marlow with a tremendous effort, heaved himself out
of his chair. Hate us. He lumbered around the desk
and advanced on the frightened Duvnolid, who was retreating backwards
before his path. Can't you see it? Don't you understand
that if we are to pursue any course of action
over a long time, if we are ever going to
achieve a galaxy in which an earthman can some day

(51:56):
live at peace with himself, we must each day violate
all the moral codes and creeds which we held inviolate
the day before that. We must fight against every ideal,
every principle which our fathers taught us, because they no
longer apply to our new logic. You hate us. He
thrust his fat hand, its nails bitten down to the

(52:16):
quick and beyond, in front of the cringing alien's eyes.
You poor, weak, single minded, ineffectual thing. We hate ourselves
and of Citadel by algis budress