Ultima Thule, Mack Reynolds [the mitten read aloud TXT] 📗
- Author: Mack Reynolds
Book online «Ultima Thule, Mack Reynolds [the mitten read aloud TXT] 📗». Author Mack Reynolds
“Even during working hours?” Metaxa scowled.
“When occasion calls.”
“Good,” Metaxa said. He poured two drinks. “You'll get your fill of seeing the galaxy,” he said. “Not that there's much to see. Man can settle only Earth-type planets and after you've seen a couple of hundred you've seen them all.”
Ronny sipped at his drink, then blinked reproachfully down into the glass.
Metaxa said, “Good, eh? A kind of tequila they make on Deneb Eight. Bunch of Mexicans settled there.”
“What,” said Ronny hoarsely, “do they make it out of?”
“Lord only knows,” Metaxa said. “To get back to Section G. We're Interplanetary Security. In short, Department Cloak and Dagger. Would you be willing to die for the United Planets, Bronston?”
That curve had come too fast. Ronny blinked again. “Only in emergency,” he said. “Who'd want to kill me?”
Metaxa poured another drink. “Many of the people you'll be working with,” he said.
“Well, why? What will I be doing?”
“You'll be representing United Planets,” Metaxa explained. “Representing United Planets in cases where the local situation is such that the folks you're working among will be teed off at the organization.”
“Well, why are they members if they don't like the UP?”
“That's a good question,” Metaxa said. He yawned. “I guess I'll have to go into my speech.” He finished his drink. “Now, shut up till I give you some background. You're probably full of a lot of nonsense you picked up in school.”
Ronny shut up. He'd expected more of an air of dedication in the Octagon and in such ethereal departments as that of Interplanetary Justice, however, he was in now and not adverse to picking up some sophistication beyond the ken of the Earth-bound employees of UP.
[pg 014]The other's voice took on a far away, albeit bored tone. “It seems that most of the times man gets a really big idea, he goes off half cocked. Just one example. Remember when the ancient Hellenes exploded into the Mediterranean? A score of different City-States began sending out colonies, which in turn sprouted colonies of their own. Take Syracuse, on Sicily. Hardly was she established than, bingo, she sent off colonists to Southern Italy, and they in turn to Southern France, Corsica, the Balearics. Greeks were exploding all over the place, largely without adequate plans, without rhyme or reason. Take Alexander. Roamed off all the way to India, founding cities and colonies of Greeks all along the way.”
The older man shifted in his chair. “You wonder what I'm getting at, eh? Well, much the same thing is happening in man's explosion into space, now that he has the ability to leave the solar system behind. Dashing off half cocked, in all directions, he's flowing out over this section of the galaxy without plan, without rhyme or reason. I take that last back, he has reasons all right—some of the screwiest. Religious reasons, racial reasons, idealistic reasons, political reasons, altruistic reasons and mercenary reasons.
“Inadequate ships, manned by small numbers of inadequate people, setting out to find their own planets, to establish themselves on one of the numberless uninhabited worlds that offer themselves to colonization and exploitation.”
Ronny cleared his throat. “Well, isn't that a good thing, sir?”
Ross Metaxa looked at him and grunted. “What difference does it make if it's good or not? It's happening. We're spreading our race out over tens of hundreds of new worlds in the most haphazard fashion. As a result, we of United Planets now have a chaotic mishmash on our hands. How we manage to keep as many planets in the organization as we do, sometimes baffles me. I suppose most of them are afraid to drop out, conscious of the protection UP gives against each other.”
He picked up a report. “Here's Monet, originally colonized by a bunch of painters, writers, musicians and such. They had dreams of starting a new race”—Metaxa snorted—“with everybody artists. They were all so impractical that they even managed to crash their ship on landing. For three hundred years they were uncontacted. What did they have in the way of government by that time? A military theocracy, something like the Aztecs of Pre-Conquest Mexico. A matriarchy, at that. And what's their religion based on? That of ancient Phoenicia including plenty of human sacrifice to good old Moloch. What can United Planets do about it, now that they've become a member? Work away very delicately, trying to get them to at least eliminate the child sacrifice phase of their culture. Will they do it? Hell no, not if they can help it. The Head Priestess and her clique are afraid that if they don't have the threat of sacrifice [pg 015] to hold over the people, they'll be overthrown.”
Ronny was surprised. “I'd never heard of a member planet like that. Monet?”
Metaxa sighed. “No, of course not. You've got a lot to learn, Ronny, my lad. First of all, what're Articles One and Two of the United Planets Charter?”
That was easy. Ronny recited. “Article One: The United Planets organization shall take no steps to interfere with the internal political, socio-economic, or religious institutions of its member planets. Article Two: No member planets of United Planets shall interfere with the internal political, socioeconomic or religious institutions of any other member planet.” He looked at the department head. “But what's that got to do with the fact that I was unfamiliar with even the existence of Monet?”
“Suppose one of the advanced planets, or even Earth itself,” Metaxa growled, “openly discussed in magazines, on newscasts, or wherever, the religious system of Monet. A howl would go up among the liberals, the progressives, the do-gooders. And the howl would be heard on the other advanced planets. Eventually, the citizen in the street on Monet would hear about it and be affected. And before you knew it, a howl would go up from Monet's government. Why? Because the other planets would be interfering with her internal affairs, simply by discussing them.”
“So what you mean is,” Ronny said, “part of our job is to keep information about Monet's government and religion from being discussed at all on other member planets.”
“That's right,” Metaxa nodded. “And that's just one of our dirty little jobs. One of many. Section G, believe me, gets them all. Which brings us to your first assignment.”
Ronny inched forward in his chair. “It takes me into space?”
“It takes you into space all right,” Metaxa snorted. “At least it will after a few months of indoctrination. I'm sending you out after a legend, Ronny. You're fresh, possibly you'll get some ideas older men in the game haven't thought of.”
“A legend?”
“I'm sending you to look for Tommy Paine. Some members of the department don't think he exists. I do.”
“Tommy Paine?”
“A pseudonym that somebody hung on him way back before even my memory in this Section. Did you ever hear of Thomas Paine in American history?”
“He wrote a pamphlet during the Revolutionary War, didn't he?”
“ ‘Common Sense,’ ” Metaxa nodded. “But he was more than that. He was born in England but went to America as a young man and his writings probably did as much as anything to put over the revolt against the British. But that wasn't enough. When that revolution was successful he went back to England and tried to start one there. The government almost caught him, but he [pg 016] escaped and got to France where he participated in the French Revolution.”
“He seemed to get around,” Ronny Bronston said.
“And so does this namesake of his. We've been trying to catch up with him for some twenty years. How long before that he was active, we have no way of knowing. It was some time before we became aware of the fact that half the revolts, rebellions, revolutions and such that occur in the United Planets have his dirty finger stirring around in them.”
“But you said some department members don't believe in his existence.”
Metaxa grunted. “They're working on the theory that no one man could do all that Tommy Paine has laid to him. Possibly it's true that he sometimes gets the blame for accomplishments not his. Or, for that matter, possibly he's more than one person. I don't know.”
“Well,” Ronny said hesitantly, “what's an example of his activity?”
Metaxa picked up another report from the confusion of his desk. “Here's one only a month old. Dictator on the planet Megas. Kidnapped and forced to resign. There's still confusion but it looks as though a new type of government will be formed now.”
“But how do they know it wasn't just some dissatisfied citizens of Megas?”
“It seems as though the kidnap vehicle was an old fashioned Earth-type helicopter. There were no such on Megas. So Section G suspects it's a possible Tommy Paine case. We could be wrong, of course. That's why I say the man's in the way of being a legend. Perhaps the others are right and he doesn't even exist. I think he does, and if so, it's our job to get him and put him out of circulation.”
Ronny said slowly, “But why would that come under our jurisdiction? It seems to me that it would be up to the police of whatever planet he was on.”
Ross Metaxa looked thoughtfully at his brown bottle, shook his head and returned it to its drawer. He looked at a desk watch. “Don't read into the United Planets organization more than there is. It's a fragile institution with practically no independent powers to wield. Every member planet is jealous of its prerogatives, which is understandable. It's no mistake that Articles One and Two are the basic foundation of the Charter. No member planet wants to be interfered with by any other or by United Planets as an organization. They want to be left alone.
“Within our ranks we have planets with every religion known to man throughout the ages. Everything ranging from primitive animism to the most advanced philosophic ethic. We have every political system ever dreamed of, and every socio-economic system. It can all be blamed on the crack-pot manner in which we're colonizing. Any minority, no matter how small—religious, political, racial, or whatever—if it can collect the funds [pg 017] to buy or rent a spacecraft, can dash off on its own, find a new Earth-type planet and set up in business.
“Fine. One of the prime jobs of Section G is to carry out, to enforce, Articles One and Two of the Charter. A planet with Buddhism as its state religion, doesn't want some die-hard Baptist missionary stirring up controversy. A planet with a feudalistic socio-economic systems doesn't want some hot-shot interplanetary businessman coming in with some big deal that would eventually cause the feudalistic nobility to be tossed onto the ash heap. A planet with a dictatorship doesn't want subversives from some democracy trying to undermine their institutions—and vice versa.”
“And its our job to enforce all this, eh?” Ronny said.
“That's right,” Metaxa told him sourly. “It's not always the nicest job in the system. However, if you believe in United Planets, an organization attempting to co-ordinate in such manner as it can, the efforts of its member planets, for the betterment of all, then you must accept Section G and Interplanetary Security.”
Ronny Bronston thought about it.
Metaxa added, “That's why one of the requirements of this job is that you yourself be a citizen of United Planets, rather than of any individual planet, have no religious affiliations, no political beliefs, and no racial prejudices. You've got to be able to stand aloof.”
“Yeah,” Ronny said thoughtfully.
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