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The Early Asimov. Volume 1

Page 66

by Isaac Asimov


  “Oh, you misunderstand me. It’s my fault, I suppose, for not being clearer. You have committed no crime, broken no laws. I have only admiration for your journalistic ability. What I refer to is your editorial attitude at times.”

  “With respect to what?”

  “With respect,” said Cellioni, with a sudden harshness about his thin lips, “to our policy toward the Outer Worlds.”

  “My editorial attitude represents what I feel and think, Mr. Secretary.”

  “I allow this. You have your right to your feelings and your thoughts. Yet it is injudicious to spread them about nightly to an audience of half a billion.”

  “Injudicious, according to you, perhaps. But legal, according to anybody.”

  “It is sometimes necessary to place good of Country above a strict and selfish interpretation of legality.”

  Keilin tapped his foot twice and frowned blackly.

  “Look,” he said, “put this frankly. What is it you want?”

  The Secretary of Information spread his hands out before him. “In a word-co-operation! Really, Mr. Keilin, we can’t have you weakening the will of the people. Do you appreciate the position of Earth? Six billions, and a declining food supply! It is insupportable! And emigration is the only solution. No patriotic Earthman can fail to see the justice of our position. No reasonable human being anywhere can fail to see the justice of it.”

  Keilin said: “I agree with your premise that the population problem is serious, but emigration is not the only solution. In fact, emigration is the one sure way of hastening destruction.”

  “Really? And why do you say that?”

  “Because the Outer Worlds will not permit emigration, and you can force their hand by war only. And we cannot win a war. ”

  “Tell me,” said Cellioni softly, “have you ever tried emigrating? It seems to me you could qualify. You are quite tall, rather light-haired, intelligent-”

  The video-man Hushed. He said, curtly: “I have hay fever.”

  “Well,” and the secretary smiled, “then you must have good reason for disapproving their arbitrary genetic and racist policies.”

  Keilin replied with heat: “I won’t be influenced by personal motives. I would disapprove their policies, if I qualified perfectly for emigration. But my disapproval would alter nothing. Their policies are their policies, and they can enforce them. Moreover, their policies have some reason even if wrong. Mankind is starting again on the Outer Worlds, and they-the ones who got there first-would like to eliminate some of the Haws of the human mechanism that have become obvious with time. A hay fever sufferer is a bad egg-genetically. A cancer prone even more so. Their prejudices against skin and hair colors are, of course, senseless, but I can grant that they are interested in uniformity and homogeneity. And as for Earth, we can do much even without the help of the Outer Worlds.”

  “For instance, what?”

  “Positronic robots and hydroponic farming should be introduced, and-most of all-birth control must be instituted. An intelligent birth control, that is, based on firm psychiatric principles intended to eliminate the psychotic trends, congenital infirmities-”

  “As they do in the Outer Worlds-”

  “Not at all. I have mentioned no racist principles. I talk only of mental and physical infirmities that are held in common by all ethnic and racial groups. And most of all, births must be held below deaths until a healthful equilibrium is reached.”

  Cellioni said, grimly: “We lack the industrial techniques and the resources to introduce a robot-hydroponic technology in anything less than five centuries. Furthermore, the traditions of Earth, as well as current ethical beliefs, forbid robot labor and false foods. Most of all, they forbid the slaughter of unborn children. Now, come, Keilin, we can’t have you pouring this out over video. It won’t work; it distracts the attention; it weakens the will.”

  Keilin broke in, impatiently: “Mr. Secretary, do you want war?”

  “Do I want war? That is an impudent question.”

  “Then, who are the policy-makers in the government who do want war? For instance, who is responsible for the calculated rumor of the Pacific Project?”

  “The Pacific Project? And where did you hear of that?”

  “My sources are my secret.”

  “Then, I’ll tell you. You heard of this Pacific Project from Moreanu of Aurora on his recent trip to Earth. We know more about you than you suppose, Mr. Keilin.”

  “I believe that, but I do not admit that I received information from Moreanu. Why do you think I could get information from him? Is it because he was deliberately allowed to learn of this piece of trumpery?”

  “Trumpery?”

  “Yes. I think Pacific Project is a fake. A fake meant to inspire confidence. I think the government plans to let the so-called secret leak out in order to strengthen its war policy. It is part of a war of nerves on Earth’s own people, and it will be the ruin of Earth in the end.”

  “And I will take this theory of mine to the people.”

  “You will not, Mr. Keilin,” said Cellioni, quietly.

  “I will.”

  “Mr. Keilin, your friend, Ion Moreanu is having his troubles on Aurora, perhaps for being too friendly with you. Take care that you do not have equal trouble for being too friendly with him.”

  “I’m not worried.” The video man laughed shortly, lunged to his feet and strode to the door.

  Keilin smiled very gently when he found the door blocked by two large men: “You mean, I am under arrest right now.”

  “Exactly,” said Cellioni.

  “On what charge?”

  “We’ll think of some later.”

  Keilin left-under escort.

  On Aurora, the mirror image of the afore-described events was taking place, and on a larger scale.

  The Foreign Agents Committee of the Gathering had been meeting now for days-ever since the session of the Gathering in which Ion Moreanu and his Conservative Party made their great bid to force a vote of no confidence. That it had failed was in part due to the superior political generalship of the Independents, and in some part due to the activity of this same Foreign Agents Committee.

  For months now, the evidence had been accumulating, and when the vote of confidence turned out to be sizably in favor of the Independents, the Committee was able to strike in its own way.

  Moreanu was subpoenaed in his own home, and placed under house arrest. Although this procedure of house arrest was not, under the circumstances, legal-a fact emphatically pointed out by Moreanu-it was nevertheless successfully accomplished.

  For three days Moreanu was cross-examined thoroughly, in polite, even tones that scarcely ever veered from unemotional curiosity. The seven inquisitors of the Committee took turns in questioning, but Moreanu had respite only for ten-minute intervals during the hours in which the Committee sat.

  After three days, he showed the effects. He was hoarse with demanding that he be faced with his accusers; weary with insisting that he be informed of the exact nature of the charges; throat-broken with shouting against the illegality of the procedure.

  The Committee finally read statements at him-

  “Is this true or not? Is this true or not?”

  Moreanu could merely shake his head wearily as the structure spidered about him.

  He challenged the competency of the evidence and was smoothly informed that the proceedings constituted a Committee Investigation and not a trial

  The chairman clapped his gavel, finally. He was a broad man of tremendous purpose. He spoke for an hour in his final summing up of the results of the inquiry, but only a relatively short portion of it need be quoted.

  He said: “If you had merely conspired with others on Aurora, we could understand you, even forgive you. Such a fault would have been held in common with many ambitious men in history. It is not that at all. What horrifies us and removes all pity is your eagerness to consort with the disease-ridden, ignorant and subhuman remnants of Earth.
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br />   “You, the accused, stand here under a heavy weight of evidence showing you to have conspired with the worst elements of Earth’s mongrel population-”

  The chairman was interrupted by an agonized cry from Moreanu, “But the motive! What motive can you possibly attribute-”

  The accused was pulled back into his seat. The chairman pursed his lips and departed from the slow gravity of his prepared speech to improvise a bit.

  “It is not,” he said, “for this Committee to go into your motives. We have shown the facts of the case. The Committee does have evidence-” He paused, and looked along the line of the members to the right and the left, then continued. “I think I may say that the Committee has evidence that points to your intentions to use Earth man power to engineer a coup that would leave you dictator over Aurora. But since the evidence has not been used, I will go no further into that, except to say that such a consummation is not inconsistent with your character as displayed at these hearings.”

  He went back to his speech. “Those of us who sit here have heard, I think, of something termed the ‘Pacific Project,’ which, according to rumors, represents an attempt on the part of Earth to retrieve its lost dominions.

  “It is needless to emphasize here that any such attempt must be doomed to failure. And yet defeat for us is not entirely inconceivable. One thing can cause us to stumble, and that one thing is an unsuspected internal weakness. Genetics is, after all, still an imperfect science. Even with twenty generations behind us, undesirable traits may crop up at scattered points, and each represents a flaw in the steel shield of Aurora’s strength.

  “That is the Pacific Project-the use of our own criminals and traitors against us; and if they can find such in our inner councils, the Earthmen might even succeed.

  “The Foreign Agents Committee exists to combat that threat. In the accused, we touch the fringes of the web. We must go on-”

  The speech did, at any rate.

  When it was concluded, Moreanu, pale, wide-eyed, pounded his fist, “I demand my say-”

  “The accused may speak, “ said the chairman.

  Moreanu rose and looked about him for a long moment. The room, fitted for an audience of seventy-five million by Community Wave, was unattended. There were the inquisitors, legal staff, official recorders-and with him, in the actual flesh, his guards.

  He would have done better with an audience. To whom could he otherwise appeal? His glance fled hopelessly from each face it touched, but could find nothing better.

  “First,” he said, “I deny the legality of this meeting. My constitutional rights of privacy and individuality have been denied. I have been tried by a group without standing as a court, by individuals convinced, in advance, of my guilt. I have been denied adequate opportunity to defend myself. In fact, I have been treated throughout as an already convicted criminal requiring only sentence.

  “I deny, completely and without reservation, that I have been engaged in any activity detrimental to the state or tending to subvert any of its fundamental institutions.

  “I accuse, vigorously and unreservedly, this Committee of deliberately using its powers to win political battles. I am guilty not of treason, but of disagreement. I disagree with a policy dedicated to the destruction of the larger part of the human race for reasons that are trivial and inhumane.

  “Rather than destruction, we owe assistance to these men who are condemned to a harsh, unhappy life solely because it was our ancestors and not theirs who happened to reach the Outer Worlds first. With our technology and resources, they can yet re-create and redevelop-“

  The chairman’s voice rose above the intense near-whisper of Moreanu, “You are out of order. The Committee is quite prepared to hear any remarks you make in your own defense, but a sermon on the rights of Earthmen is outside the legitimate realm of the discussion.”

  The hearings were formally closed. It was a great political victory for the Independents; all would agree to that. Of the members of the Committee, only Franklin Maynard was not completely satisfied. A small, nagging doubt remained.

  He wondered-

  Should he try, one last time? Should he speak once more and then no more to that queer little monkey ambassador from Earth? He made his decision quickly and acted upon it instantly. Only a pause to arrange a witness, since even for himself an unwitnessed private communion with an Earthman might be dangerous.

  Luiz Moreno, Ambassador to Aurora from Earth, was, to put not too fine a point on it, a miserable figure of a man. And that wasn’t exactly an accident. On the whole, the foreign diplomats of Earth tended to be dark, short, wizen, or weakly-or all four.

  That was only self-protection, since the Outer Worlds exerted strong attraction for any Earthman. Diplomats exposed to the allure of Aurora, for instance, could not but be exceedingly reluctant to return to Earth. Worse, and more dangerous, exposure meant a growing sympathy with the demigods of the stars and a growing alienation from the slum-dwellers of Earth.

  Unless, of course, the ambassador found himself rejected. Unless he found himself somewhat despised. And then, no more faithful servant of Earth could be imagined, no man less subject to corruption.

  The Ambassador to Earth was only five foot two, with a bald head and receding forehead, a pinkish affectation of beard and red-rimmed eyes. He was suffering from a slight cold, the occasional results whereof he smothered in a handkerchief. And yet, withal, he was a man of intellect.

  To Franklin Maynard, the sight and sound of the Earthman was distressing. He grew queasy at each cough and shuddered when the ambassador wiped his nose.

  Maynard said: “Your excellency, we commune at my request because I wish to inform you that the Gathering has decided to ask your recall by your government.”

  “That is kind of you, councilor. I had an inkling of this. And for what reason?”

  “The reason is not within the bounds of discussion. I believe it is the prerogative of a sovereign state to decide for itself whether a foreign representative shall be persona grata or not. Nor do I think you really need enlightenment on this matter.”

  “Very well, then.” The ambassador paused to wield his handkerchief and murmur an apology. ”Is that all?”

  Maynard said: “Not quite. There are matters I would like to mention. Remain!”

  The ambassador’s reddened nostrils flared a bit, but he smiled, and said: “An honor.”

  “Your world, excellency,” said Maynard, superciliously, “displays a certain belligerence of late that we on Aurora find most annoying and unnecessary. I trust that you will find your return to Earth at this point a convenient opportunity to use your influence against further displays such as recently occurred in New York, where two Aurorans were manhandled by a mob. The payment of an indemnity may not be enough the next time.”

  “But that is emotional overflow, Councilor Maynard. Surely, you cannot consider youngsters shouting in the streets to be adequate representations of belligerence.”

  “It is backed by your government’s actions in many ways. The recent arrest of Mr. Ernest Keilin, for instance.”

  “Which is a purely domestic affair,” said the ambassador, quietly.

  “But not one to demonstrate a reasonable spirit toward the Outer Worlds. Keilin was one of the few Earthmen who until recently could yet make their voices heard. He was intelligent enough to realize that no divine right protects the inferior man simply because he is inferior.”

  The ambassador arose: “I am not interested in Auroran theories on racial differences.”

  “A moment. Your government may realize that much of their plans have gone awry with the arrest of your agent, Moreanu. Stress the fact that we of Aurora are much wiser than we have been prior to this arrest. It may serve to give them pause.”

  “Is Moreanu my agent? Really, councilor, if I am disaccredited, I shall leave. But surely the loss of diplomatic immunity does not affect my personal immunity as an honest man from charges of espionage.”

  “Isn’
t that your job?”

  “Do Aurorans take it for granted that espionage and diplomacy are identical? My government will be glad to hear it. We shall take appropriate precautions.”

  “Then, you defend Moreanu? You deny that he has been working for Earth?”

  “I defend only myself. As to Moreanu, I am not stupid enough to say anything.”

  “Why stupid?”

  “Wouldn’t a defense by myself be but another indictment against him? I neither accuse nor defend him. Your government’s quarrel with Moreanu, like my government’s with Keilin-whom you, by the way, are most suspiciously eager to defend-is an internal affair. I will leave now.”

  The communion broke, and almost instantly the wall faded again. Hijkman was looking thoughtfully at Maynard.

  “What do you think of him?” asked Maynard, grimly.

  “Disgraceful that such a travesty of humanity should walk Aurora, I think.”

  “I agree with you, and yet…and yet-”

  “Well?”

  “And yet I can almost find myself able to think that he is the master and that we dance to his piping. You know of Moreanu?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, he will be convicted, sent to an asteroid. His party will be broken. Offhand, anyone would say that such actions represent a horrible defeat for Earth.”

  “Is there doubt in your mind that such is the case?”

  “I’m not sure. Committee Chairman Bond insisted on airing his theory that Pacific Project was the name Earth gave to a device for using internal traitors on the Outer Worlds. But I don’t think so. I’m not sure the facts fit that. For instance, where did we get our evidence against Moreanu?”

  “I certainly can’t say.”

  “Our agents, in the first place. But how did they get it? The evidence was a little too convincing. Moreanu could have guarded himself better-”

  Maynard hesitated. He seemed to be attempting a blush, and failing. “Well, to put it quickly, I think it was the Terrestrian Ambassador who somehow presented us with the most evidence. I think that he played on Moreanu’s sympathy for Earth first to befriend him and then to betray him.”

 

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