The Star Beast

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The Star Beast Page 18

by Robert A. Heinlein


  “Probably. I wasn’t criticizing your attention to duty, Henry. Fact is, you work too hard…the universe won’t run down if you don’t wind it. But about this F. of L. deal—we intervened in some silly case out west; you know about it, you sent one of our people—the case turned out to be about his Hoorussian Lummox, The court’s verdict…our verdict, you might say, was to destroy the beast. By the way, Henry, have you disciplined the man responsible?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Why the delay?”

  “He won’t be disciplined, sir. He was perfectly right, on the evidence.”

  “I don’t see it that way. Better send his file jacket to my office. I want to consider it myself.”

  “Sir,” Mr. Kiku said softly, “were you thinking of reversing me on a matter of administrative discipline?”

  “Eh? I intend to review the matter.”

  “Because if you are, sir, you can have my resignation now. My usefulness will be at an end.”

  “What? Henry, don’t be nasty.” The Secretary drummed on Mr. Kiku’s desk. “Confound it, man, let’s be frank with each other. I know that you career men can make it hard for an appointee if you try… I didn’t get into politics yesterday. But as long as I am holding the sack, I intend to have discipline around here. My privilege?”

  “Yes…your privilege.”

  “And my responsibility. Probably you are right about this man, whoever he is…you’re usually right, or we couldn’t keep things going. But it is my responsibility to review things whenever I think it necessary. However, there is no call for you to talk about resigning until I actually do reverse you. Since you have forced the issue, if I do find it necessary to reverse you on this, I’ll ask for your resignation. But until I do, keep your shirt on. Fair enough?”

  “Fair enough. I was hasty, Mr. Secretary. The file jacket will be on your desk.”

  “On second thought, don’t bother. If you are carrying one of your favorites…”

  “I have no favorites, Mr. MacClure. I dislike them all, impersonally.”

  “Sometimes I think you hate yourself. Now where were we? Oh yes! Well, when we made that terrible bust about the Hoorussian, Mrs. Murgatroyd saw a chance to do a good deed. Oh, I suppose she was out to pep up her program, but that’s beside the point. Right away, Pidgie-Widgie started telling all his little friends about this. terrible thing and asked them all to write in and join the Friends of Lummox. She got over three million replies in the first twenty-four hours. By now half the kids on this continent and nobody knows how many elsewhere are ‘Friends of Lummox,’ pledged to protect him from persecution.”

  “Her,” corrected Mr. Kiku.

  “Eh?”

  “I beg your pardon. I suppose neither term is correct. The Hroshii come in six assorted sexes. You can call Lummox either ‘him’ or ‘her’…we really need new, words. But it doesn’t matter.”

  “Well, it certainly doesn’t to me,” agreed MacClure. “But if we had actually put the quietus on this Lummox, I believe the kids would have started a revolution. I really do. Not to mention the adults who are Pidgie-Widgie fans. Even so, the department got a black eye out of it. But Beulah Murgatroyd is willing to go along with a deal to help us out. She interviews us and I answer the general questions and you back me on the details—all about how the department is careful to protect the rights of our non-human friends and how everybody ought to be tolerant—the usual line. Then Pidgie-Widgie asks what happened to Lummox and you tell the kiddies how Lummox was really sort of a fairy prince in disguise…or princess…and how Lummox has gone away to his home in the sky. It will be terrific.”

  MacClure added, “That’s all you have to do. They patch in a shot of Lummox getting into the Hoorussian ship and waving goodbye. Then we all eat a bowl of Hunkies—don’t worry, I’ll see that your bowl is empty!—and Pidgie-Widgie sings his ‘Skylarker’ song. End. It won’t take twenty minutes and it will be a big thing for the department. Okay?”

  “No.”

  “Now, Henry… All right, you won’t even have to pretend to eat Hunkies.”

  “No.”

  “Henry, you’re impossible. Don’t you agree that it is our business to help train up the kids to understand their responsibilities and have right attitudes in this modern age—the age of the Community of Civilizations?”

  “No, sir, I do not. That is the business of parents and educators, not of government. This department has more than it can do just to try to hold things together in the face of ever-increasing xenic problems.” Mr. Kiku added to himself: even if I did agree, I wouldn’t do it by eating Hunkies!

  “Hmm… A narrow attitude, Henry. A bureaucratic one, if I may say so. You know perfectly well that we are in hot water about this Hoorussian thing from other directions, too, with The Society for the Preservation of the Status Quo screaming for isolation and the Keep Earth Human League jumping on us. It gets the Council uneasy. Along comes a chance to build up public opinion against such crackpots and you won’t even help. You don’t have the Status Quo people and the Human-Earth jokers bothering you—because I keep them off your neck.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. But you shouldn’t waste time on them either. No doubt you know that there is a money motive back of every one of those apparently crackpot organizations. Let the people with opposing economic interests fight them—the shipping lines and the importers and the scientists. Our business is foreign relations. When we are bothered by pressure groups, we should let our public relations people handle them; that is what they are for.”

  “What am I but a glorified public relations man?” MacClure answered angrily. “I haven’t any illusions about this confounded job.”

  “Not true, sir. You have the prime policy responsibility. I carry out policy—within the limits of my job.”

  “Hummph! You set policy. You drive me like a horse. I’m beginning to realize it.”

  “Sorry, sir. I suppose everyone makes policy…even the doorman…to some extent. It’s unavoidable. But I try to do my job.”

  Mr. Kiku’s private secretary called in by voice. “Mr. Kiku, is the Secretary with you? Mrs. Beulah Murgatroyd is waiting.”

  “Be right in,” called out MacClure.

  Kiku added quietly, “Mildred, see that she is entertained. There will be a slight delay.”

  “Yes, sir. The Secretary’s aide is taking care of her.”

  “Good.”

  “There will be no delay,” MacClure said to Mr. Kiku. “If you won’t, you won’t…though I’m disappointed in you. But I can’t keep her waiting.”

  “Sit down, Mr. Secretary.”

  “Eh?”

  “Sit down, sir. Even the mighty Mrs. Murgatroyd must wait on some things. A major emergency has come up; you will certainly have to face the Council about it…possibly a special session this evening.”

  “What? Why didn’t you say so?”

  “I was organizing my thoughts preparatory to briefing you, sir, when you came in. For the past several minutes I have been trying to tell you that this department has really important things to do—besides selling Hunkies.”

  The Secretary stared at him, then reached across Kiku’s desk. “Uh, Mildred? This is the Secretary. Tell Commodore Murthi that I am unavoidably detained and that he is to do his best to keep Mrs. Murgatroyd happy.”

  “Yes. Mr. Secretary.”

  MacClure turned back. “Now, Henry, quit lecturing me and spill it.”

  Mr. Kiku began a full report of the new Hroshii crisis. Mr. MacClure listened without comment. Just as Mr. Kiku concluded his account of the rejection of the ultimatum the sound communicator again came to life. “Chief? Murthi here. Mrs. Murgatroyd has another appointment.”

  Mr. MacClure turned toward the voice. “Hush circuit?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “Listen, Jack, I’ll be a few minutes yet. Keep her happy.”

  “But—”

  “Make love to her, if necessary. Now switch off. I’m busy!” He turned
back to Mr. Kiku and scowled. “Henry, you’ve shoved me out on a limb again. You’ve left me nothing to do but back your play.”

  “May I ask what the Secretary would have done?”

  “Huh?” MacClure frowned. “Why, I would have said exactly what you said, I suppose…but in nastier language. I admit that I probably wouldn’t have thought of cutting inside them through this Lummox creature. That was cute.”

  “I see, sir. It being a rejection of a formal ultimatum, what precautionary action would the Secretary have taken? I should add that I wanted to avoid having the department advise the Council to order battle stations for the entire planet.”

  “What are you saying? Nothing like that would have been necessary. I would have ordered the Inner Guard to close and blast them out of the sky, on my own responsibility. After all, they are at our inner defense zone and breathing threats…a simple emergency police action.”

  Mr. Kiku thought, that is what I guessed you would do…but what he said was, “Suppose it turned out that their ship failed to blast out of the sky…and blasted back?”

  “What? Preposterous!”

  “Mr. Secretary, the only thing I have learned in forty years at this trade is that when you are dealing with ‘Out There’ nothing is preposterous.”

  “Well, I’ll be… Henry, you actually believed they could hurt us. You were frightened.” He searched Mr. Kiku’s face. “Are you holding something back? Do you have evidence that they might be able to carry out this preposterous threat?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Well?”

  “Mr. MacClure, in my country hardly more than three hundred years ago there lived a very valiant tribe. A small force of Europeans made certain demands on them…taxes, they called it. The chief was a brave man and his warriors were numerous and well trained. They knew the strangers had guns, but they even had some guns of their own. But mostly they relied on numbers and courage. They planned cleverly and caught the enemy in a box canyon. So they thought.”

  “Yes?”

  “They had never heard of machine guns. They learned about them in a very final way—for they were very brave and kept coming on. That tribe is no more, no survivors.”

  “If you are trying to scare me, well…never mind. But you still haven’t given me evidence. After all, we are not an ignorant tribe of savages. No parallel.”

  “Perhaps. Yet, after all, the machine gun of that era was only a minor improvement over the ordinary gun of the time. We have weapons which make a machine gun seem like a boy’s knife. And yet…”

  “You are suggesting that these Hoorussians have weapons that would make our latest developments as useless as clubs. Frankly, I don’t want to believe it and I don’t. The power in the nucleus of the atom is the ultimate possible power in the universe. You know that, I know that. We’ve got it. No doubt they’ve got it, too, but we outnumber them millions to one and we are on our home grounds.”

  “So the tribal chief reasoned.”

  “Eh? Not the same thing.”

  “Nothing ever is,” Mr. Kiku answered wearily. “I was not speculating about magic weapons beyond the concepts of our physicists; I was merely wondering what some refinement might do to a known weapon…some piece of tinkering already implicit in the theories. I don’t know, of course. I know nothing of such things.”

  “Well, neither do I but I’ve been assured that… See here, Henry; I’m going to order that police action, right away.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well? Don’t sit there frozen-faced saying ‘Yes, sir.’ You don’t know, do you? So why shouldn’t I do it?”

  “I did not object, sir. Do you want a sealed circuit? Or do you want the base commander to report here?”

  “Henry, you are without question the most irritating man in seventeen planets. I asked you why I should not do it?”

  “I know of no reason, sir. I can only tell you why I did not recommend it to you.”

  “Well?”

  “Because I did not know. Because I had only the fears of a non-human who might be even more timid than myself, or badly misled by what appears to be almost superstitious awe. Since I did not know, I did not choose to play Russian roulette with our planet at stake. I chose to fight with words as long as possible. Do you want to give the order, sir? Or shall I take care of the details?”

  “Quit badgering me.” He glared at his Under Secretary, his face red. “I suppose your next move is to threaten to resign.”

  Mr. Kiku grudged a small smile. “Mr. MacClure, I never offer to resign twice in the same day.” He added, “No, I will wait until after the police action. Then, if we are both alive, I will have been proved wrong on a major matter; my resignation will be necessary. May I add, sir, that I hope you are right? I would much rather enjoy a quiet old age than to have my judgment vindicated posthumously.”

  MacClure worked his mouth but did not speak. Mr. Kiku went on quietly, “May I offer a suggestion to the Secretary in my official capacity?”

  “What? Of course. You are required to by law. Speak up.”

  “May I urge that the attack commence in the next few minutes? We may achieve by haste what might fail by delay. BuAstro can supply us with the orbit elements of the enemy ship.” Kiku leaned toward his communicator.

  It came to life before he could touch it. “Chief? Murthi here. I’ve done my best, but she…”

  “Tell her I can’t see her!”

  “Sir?”

  “Uh…butter it on. You know how. Now shut up and don’t call me again.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  Mr. Kiku called BuAstro. “The chief ballistician, please…at once. Ah, Cartier…seal your end; this end is sealed. And put a hush on it. All right, I want the tactical elements of the…”

  MacClure reached out and broke the connection. “All right,” he said savagely, “you’ve outbluffed me.”

  “I was not bluffing, sir.”

  “All right, all right, you’ve convinced me that you have a wise head on you. I. can’t take a blind chance with the lives of five billion people any more than you can. Want me to crawl?”

  “No, sir. But I am much relieved. Thank you.”

  “You’re relieved? How about me? Now tell me how you intend to play this. I’m still in the dark.”

  “Very well, Mr. Secretary. In the first place I have sent for the Stuart boy…”

  “The Stuart boy? Why?”

  “To persuade him to go. I want his consent.”

  The Secretary looked as if he could not believe his ears. “Do I understand, Mr. Kiku, that after rejecting their ultimatum your only plan is to capitulate?”

  “That is not how I would describe it.”

  “I don’t care what diplomatese you phrase it in. We will not surrender the boy. I was not willing to take a risk blindly, but this is another matter. I will not surrender one human being no matter what the pressure is…and I can assure you that the Council will agree. There is such a thing as human dignity. I must add that I am astonished…and disgusted.”

  “May I continue, sir?”

  “Well…go ahead. Speak your piece.”

  “No thought of surrendering the boy was ever in my mind. In the science of diplomacy appeasement has long been an exploded theory. Had I even considered sacrificing the boy, I would applaud your disgust. As it is, it missed me.”

  “But you said…”

  “Please, sir. I know what I said. I sent for the boy to explore his own wishes. From what I know of him it is possible that he will be willing, even eager.”

  MacClure shook his head. “It’s not something we could permit, even if the lad were crazy enough to do it. Nine hundred light-years from other human beings? I would as soon offer poison to a baby.”

  “That’s not the picture at all, sir. If I have his consent, I can keep the fact to myself during negotiations…play from a concealed ace. There is much to negotiate.”

  “Such as?”

  “Their science. Their trade.
A whole new volume of space. The possibilities can be only dimly seen.”

  MacClure stirred restlessly. “I’m not sure but what that attack is still the thing to do. If men are men, some risks must be taken. Snuggling up to vermin who threaten us… I don’t like it.”

  “Mr. Secretary, if my plans do not work…or fail to meet your approval, then I will join you in shouting defiance at the sky. We should bargain…but bargain as men.”

  “Well…go on. Tell me the rest.”

  CHAPTER XIII

  “No, Mr. Secretary”

  MR. KIKU’s wife let him sleep late the next morning. She did this occasionally, reasoning that no crisis was important enough to wake him when he needed rest. When he got to his office he found Wesley Robbins, Special Assistant Secretary for public relations, asleep in his chair. Robbins was not a diplomat, did not want to be one, and made a point of showing it.

  “Good morning, Wes,” Mr. Kiku said mildly.

  “What’s good about it?” Robbins chucked a copy of the CAPITAL TIMES at the Under Secretary. “Seen this?”

  “No.” Mr. Kiku unfolded it.

  “Twenty-three years in the newspaper business…to be scooped on my own beat.”

  Mr. Kiku read:

  ALIEN INVADERS

  THREATEN WAR!!!

  Demand Hostages

  Capital Enclave, Sep. 12 (GP)… Space Secretary MacClure revealed today that the xenic visitors dubbed “Hroshii” now landed at Capital port have demanded, under threats of war, that the Federation…

  Kiku scanned down, saw that a distortion of his answer to the Hroshii had been credited to Secretary MacClure, with no mention of the possibility of peaceful settlement. A trailer story reported the Chief of the General Staff as assuring Earth and all the federated planets that there was nothing to fear from the insolent aliens. A South Asian senator demanded to know what steps were being taken… Kiku glanced at it all but discarded the meaningless 90%, including a blast from the Keep Earth Human League and a “We Stand at the Crossroads” editorial. There was an interview with Mrs. Murgatroyd but he did not take time to find out which side Pidgie-Widgie was on.

 

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