face that exposed his sharp sectorial teeth. "Well,that's over, friend Lanceford. Now send us your starfish."
"That's easier said than done," I replied gloomily. "I've contacted theConfederation. They won't ship twenty pounds of starfish--let alone thetwenty thousand tons Bergdorf says we'll need!"
"Why not? Are they crazy? Or do they want to destroy us?"
"Neither. This is just a sample of bureaucracy at work. You see, thestarfish is classed as a pest on Earth. Confederation regulations forbidthe exportation of pests to member planets."
"But we need them!"
"I realize that, but the fact hasn't penetrated to the highest brass." Ilaughed humorlessly. "The big boys simply can't see it. By the time wemarshal enough evidence to convince them, it will be too late. Knowinghow Administration operates, I'd say that it'd take at least a year forthem to become convinced. And another two months for them to act."
"But we simply can't wait that long! Your man Bergdorf has convinced me.We're in deadly danger!"
"You're going to have to wait," I said grimly. "Unless you can find someway to jar them out of their rut."
Kron looked thoughtful. "I think that can be done, friend Lanceford. AsI recall, your bureaus are timid things. Furthermore, we have somethingthey want pretty bad. I think we can apply pressure."
"But won't your people object? Doesn't that deny your basic philosophyof non-interference with others?"
Kron grinned ferociously. "Not at all. Like others of your race, youhave never understood the real significance of our social philosophy.What it actually boils down to is simply this--we respect the customsand desires of others but require in turn that they respect ours."
"You mean that you will use force against the rest of the Confederation?But you can't do that! You wouldn't stand a chance against the Navy."
"We will first try a method we have used with our own tribes who get outof line. I don't think anything more will be necessary." Kron's voicewas flat. "It goes against the grain to do this, but we are left nochoice." He turned and left the room without a farewell, which was ameasure of his agitation.
I sat there behind my desk wondering what the Niobians could do. Like myex-boss Alvord Sims, I had a healthy respect for them. It just could bethat they could do plenty.
They could.
* * * * *
Organization! Man, you've never seen anything like what the Niobianstossed at our startled heads! We always thought the Planetary Councilwas a loose and ineffective sort of thing, but what happened within thenext twenty hours had to be seen to be believed. I saw it. But it wasdays before I believed it.
Within a day the natives had whipped up an organization, agreed on aplan of action and put it into effect. By noon of the next day Niobe wasa closed planet. A message was sent to the Confederation informing themthat Niobe was withdrawing until the emergency was over. An embargo wasplaced on all movement of shipping.
And everything stopped.
No factories operated. The big starfreighters stood idle and empty atthe polar bases. Not one ounce of gerontin or its concentrate precursorleft Niobe. Smiling groups of Niobians, using subsonics to enforce theirdemands, paralyzed everything the Confederation had operated on theplanet. No one was hurt. The natives were still polite and friendly. ButConfederation business came to an abrupt halt, and stayed halted.
It was utterly amazing! I had never heard of a planet-wide boycottbefore. But Niobe was entirely within her rights. The Confederation hadto accept it.
And, of course, the Confederation capitulated. If the Niobians werefools enough to want pests as a condition of resuming viscayashipments--well, it was their affair. The Confederation needed viscaya.It was willing to do almost anything to assure its continued supply.
With the full power of the Confederation turned to giving Niobe what shewanted, it wasn't long before the oysters were under control. Weestablished a systematic seeding procedure for the starfish that keptarriving by the freighter load. In a few months Bergdorf reported thatan ecological balance had been achieved.
* * * * *
"But didn't the starfish create another pest problem?" Perkins asked.
"Not at all," Lanceford said. "I told you that the Niobians had an oddsense of taste. Starfish proved to be quite acceptable to the Niobianpalate. They merely added another item to Niobe's food supply."
Perkins shuddered delicately. "I wouldn't eat one of those things in amillion years."
"You're going to have to eat vorkum if you expect to survive on thisworld. Compared to vorkum, a starfish is sheer pleasure! But that wasn'tthe end of it," Lanceford added with a smile. "You see, shortly afterthings had simmered down to normal Kron dropped into my office.
"'I think, friend Lanceford,' he said, 'that we are going to have tocreate a permanent organization to keep unwanted visitors out. Thislittle affair has been a needed lesson. I have been reading about yourplanetary organization, and I think a thing like your Customs Service isvitally needed on our world to prevent future undesirable biologicalimportations.'
"'I agree,' I replied. 'Anything that would prevent a repetition of thisbusiness would be advisable.'
"So that was how the Customs Service started. The insigne you willrecognize as a starfish opening an oyster. Unfortunately the Niobiansare quite literal minded. When they say any biological importation willbe quarantined and examined, they mean Confederation citizens too!
"And that, of course, was the entering wedge. You'll find things quitehomelike once you get out of here. The natives have developed anorganization that's a virtual copy of our Administrative Branch.Customs, as you know, is a triumph of the bureaucratic system, andnaturally the idea spread. Once the natives got used to a permanentgovernment organization that was available at all times, it was only aquestion of time before the haphazard tribal organization becamereplaced by a planetary union. You could almost say that it was aninevitable consequence."
Lanceford grinned. "The Niobians didn't realize that the importation offoreign Customs was almost as bad as the importation of foreignanimals!" He chuckled at the unconscious pun.
To Choke an Ocean Page 6
