The lord of the Hawvins stood up. “I have received word that all prisoners were put down at the designated place and signed for by the Earth representative there.”
Dries looked at Jonnie. Word had come from Thor in mid-morning. There had been seven pilots, three Russian soldiers, two Sherpas, and one Scot. Thirteen in all. They had been in fair condition. But since none of these invading ships had the kind of food terrestrials ate, they were suffering badly from starvation and certainly would have died in months-long space travel. They had been rushed to Aberdeen for intravenous feeding and treatment of minor injuries. Thor had had a row with the Hawvin officer in charge of the landing for one of the pilots remembered another pilot he was sure the Tolneps had picked up. After sending the first group off Thor had stood by, and sure enough, the Tolneps had another pilot, a German. It had taken two hours to get him set down. They swore that was all. Thor had then believed them.
“Our officer attests we have the prisoners back,” said Jonnie.
The emissaries who had ships in orbit then passed their orders to their respective commanders.
There was a wait. Then Dunneldeen came in to report that according to sightings from Russia, the whole flotilla in orbit had flamed up, gotten into formation around the Tolnep vessels, and left. The phenomena of their getting very big and vanishing had been observed. Radio contact was lost.
The whole group went outside and Angus fired a spitting, naked, and chained Schleim to the slave market in Creeth. [3] The emissaries came back to the conference room.
Sir Robert thought that was all. He was sitting in the front row, grumbling.
Dries Gloton smiled. He walked over to Sir Robert and he drew a thick paper from his pocket.
“My lords,” said Dries to the assemblage, “are witnesses to the fact that there is no further dispute over the ownership of Earth. The government of the planet is intact. The king is recovering. The Earth representative here is legally empowered to act for the government.
“The title to the planet is clear!” he said triumphantly. “Emissary of Earth! I hereby serve you with a notice of delinquency of payments! If, after a discussion, but in no case later than one week, this mortgage remains unhandled or unpaid, it will result in foreclosure on the planet and all its assets and peoples.”
He dropped the paper in Sir Robert's lap. “Consider yourself legally served with due process!”
Sir Robert sat there, staring at the paper.
Dries Gloton smiled a shark-like smile at Jonnie. “Thank you very much for getting him here and into the open so that he could legally be given this paper. In addition to being branch manager, I also usually act as my own collections department.”
He went over to a chair and picked up a foot-high stack of large booklets. He returned to the platform and addressed the assembled emissaries.
“Honored lords,” said Dries, “the primary business of this conference-to clear the title of Earth– is complete. However, I know each one of you has full authority to acquire territories for your state. There are other means than war.”
The lords shrugged. War was the surer method, said one. The mental health of the people depended upon war, said another. How was a state to demonstrate its power without war? said Browl. The Galactic Bank would have a hard time surviving without making war loans, quipped Dom. Rulers only became famous when they prosecuted war, laughed another. They were all in a jovial mood.
Jonnie listened to all this with a kind of horror. The impersonal cruelty of large government was brought home to him.
“Get on with it, Your Excellency,” chuckled Fowljopan. “We all know what you're going to say.”
Dries smiled and began to hand out the booklets. “Here are some brochures I made up while waiting for a clear title. You will find data like mass, surface area, weather, numbers of seas, heights of mountains, and you will also find some scenic views. It is a very pretty planet, really. It would support several billion people, providing they could breathe air. But most of you have air-breathing colonies that even now are overcrowded.”
He finished handing the brochures about and the lords began to scan through the colored pictures. “You have collateral and credit and, many of you, cash. It would take a minimum mercenary force to occupy it for, as you know, its defenses are quite antiquated and it has minimum personnel to resist an invasion. Conveyance of title would include all people and assets.
“Therefore, should you care to linger, there will be an auction of this planet as a bank foreclosure and repossession in the next seven days unless suitable arrangements for payments of its debts are made-which hardly seems likely for they are without other adequate cash or collateral or credit. Thank you, my
lords.”
They were all chattering to one another and examining the brochure and seemed quite in a holiday mood. It was obvious they would stay around, even those from distant universes.
Jonnie said to Dries Gloton, “So it was all just a question of money!”
Dries smiled. “We have not the slightest feeling of hostility toward you. Banking is banking and business is business. One must pay one's obligations. Any child knows that.”
The banker turned to Sir Robert, “Arrange a meeting for negotiations as soon as possible, will you? Then we can get this thing over with and done.”
Sir Robert and Jonnie walked out.
Chapter 6
There was a lot of activity in the bowl. Chief Chong-won's tribe of Chinese had, for the most part, been replaced in Edinburgh by the North Chinese Jonnie had sent there from Russia.
The returning people were smudged and singed. Some were in a state of obvious exhaustion that not even rest on the flight from Edinburgh had eased. They rushed gladly to their children, scooping them up, embracing them, throwing questions to the older children. The dogs were straining at their leashes and barking joyously. It was a scene of glad reunion.
Jonnie was glad he had gotten them replaced on the rescue team. They had worked without ceasing and soon would have been unable to carry on. Yet they had worked until they nearly dropped. Watching fathers in happy chattering exchange with their youngsters, watching mothers anxiously verifying whether this or that had been done properly as to feeding and naps, Jonnie thought of those disdainful and arrogant lords and the soulless haughtiness of government. What did they care what happened to people like these? Yes, such governments might go through gestures of justice and perhaps even social work, but they remained cold, hard forces that could disrupt and shatter lives and people without conscience, without a second thought.
Chief Chong-won was getting them organized. He told Jonnie, as he rushed by, that he was moving them all to the old minesite dome that had been cleaned up: it had rooms underground and the armor cable was working there now.
Well! Jonnie was free of the signing conference. Dunneldeen was available to take over.
In ops he asked Dunneldeen, “Any news from Edinburgh come in with this tribe?”
Dunneldeen shook his head.
Jonnie grabbed an air mask and flight jacket. “Then I’m off to find Stormalong!"
He got no further than the exit to the bowl. He collided head on with Stormalong himself.
“Where have you been?” cried Jonnie. “I have called and called and called!”
Stormalong pushed him into a bunker where they could not be overheard. “I have been fighting and flying my goggles off for days!” He looked it. He was gaunt and hollow of eye; his white scarf was dirty, his jacket stained with sweat and grease. He even had a gun burn in his shoulder.
4.For the Earth and several other editions of this book, translation liberties have been taken throughout, but especially with the explanation that follows, due mainly to the temporary unavailability of print fonts which include Psychlo numbers and letters.– Translator.