“It’s confidential,” said Terl. “It’s a surprise. How grateful they will be when they see their payroll and bonuses shrink and their profits soar.”
Numph frowned, feeling himself on very sure ground. Terl knew the blunder he had made before. Numph, left to his own crooked course, would have enormously increased the number of personnel brought here from Psychlo. Every extra employee greatly padded Numph's pocket.
“I have other ways of increasing ore shipments,” said Numph. “I am considering doubling our work force with employees from home planet. There are plenty out of work there.”
“But that will reduce profits,” said Terl innocently. “You told me yourself that profits were a battle just now.”
“More ore, more profits,” said Numph belligerently. “And they go on half-pay when they arrive. That's final.”
“Now these authorizations I have here,” said Terl, undisturbed, “to train up a native, indigenous work force-'
“Did you hear me?” said Numph angrily.
“Oh, yes, I heard you,” smiled Terl. “My concern is for the company and the increase of its profits.”
“You imply mine is not?” challenged
Numph.
Terl laid his work papers on the desk in front of Numph. At first the Planetary Director started to sweep them away with a paw. Then he sat suddenly still, frozen. His eyes stared. His paws began to tremble. He read the profit estimations. He read the circled absence of actual pay information. He read the vehicle numbers, and then he read the message, “No complaints here. Bank difference as usual.”
Numph looked up at Terl. Staring, frozen terror crept into his eyes.
“By company regulations,” said Terl, “I have the right to replace you.”
Numph was staring at the gun in Terl's belt. His eyes were hypnotized with shock.
“But actually, I don't care much for administration. I can see that someone in your position, faced with growing old and with no future, might find other ways to solve his problems. I am very understanding.”
Numph's terror-filled eyes lifted to Terl's chest, waiting.
“The crimes of someone on home planet are not in my duty sphere,” said Terl.
There was a flicker in Numph's eyes. Incredulity.
“You have always been a good administrator,” continued Terl. “Mainly because you let other employees do exactly what they think best serves company interests."
He swept up the evidence. “Out of regard for you, these will be put away where none can see them– unless something happens to me, of course. I will report nothing to home office. I know nothing about this. Even if you say I do, there will be no evidence and you won't be believed. If you get vaporized because of it, it will be entirely because of mistakes you make on other lines. They will not include me.”
Terl got up, followed by Numph's stricken eyes.
A huge sheaf of requisitions and order forms was laid on Numph's desk. “For your signature!” said Terl.
They were blank. They were undated. They were forms from the Planetary Director's own office.
Numph started to say, “But they're blank. You could put anything on these. Personal money, machines, mines, change operations, even transfer yourself off the planet!” But his voice wouldn't work. And then he realized that his brain wouldn't function either.
The pen was pushed between his claws, and for the next fifteen minutes Numph signed his name over and over and over again, slowly, almost witlessly.
Terl picked up the sheaf of signed blanks. He would be very sure that none of these got loose while they were not filled in!
“All for the good of the company,” said Terl. He was smiling. He put the thick sheaf in a securely locked case, put the evidence in a big envelope, picked up his equipment. “To remove you would ruin the career of a valuable employee. As your friend I can only seek to minimize damage to the company. I am pleased to tell you that you are in no danger of any kind from me. You must believe that. I am a faithful company employee but I protect my friends.”
He gave a little bow and left.
Numph sat like a dumped sack of ore, nerveless, incapable of reaction.
Only one thought kept going round and round and round in his head. The security chief was an untouchable demon, a demon who, forever after, could do exactly as he wished. Numph never thought of even trying to stop him. He was and forever after would be in the complete power of Terl. He was too paralyzed to even think of warning Nipe. From here on out, Terl would be the real head of this planet, doing exactly as he pleased.
Chapter 3
It had been a good hunt and Jonnie was going back to the compound.
That morning he had looked with sorrow at the dejected bearing of the two girls. What little they could do to clean up their squalid cage they had done. They had tried to put on bright faces when he talked to them through the two barricades. Pattie had come out of it a bit more, but she hadn't laughed when he told her she would marry the king of the mountains– it was an old personal joke. She had suddenly burst into tears, and Chrissie, trying to comfort her, had begun to cry too.
Something had to cheer them up or at least keep them busy, Jonnie thought.
He got the horses and with Windsplitter stepping out had ridden away from the compound. Dancer and the third horse– named Old Pork after his habit of grunting– trailed behind. Blodgett was better, but it would be some time before the wounded horse could run.
Jonnie was looking for deer. With venison to smoke and a hide to tan and strip, the girls would get their minds off their worries.
Some of his own guilt and bitterness dimmed as he raced across the plain,
Windsplitter eager, the other two pounding along behind. The wind had wiped some of his pessimism away. The illusion of freedom stimulated him. Perhaps there was hope.
He had done better than one deer. He had come hammering into an arroyo and found himself within feet of antelope. And shortly after, one cleaned antelope was on the back of old Pork.
Not a half-hour later he had gotten his deer, a young buck.
With both pack horses laden and trailing behind him, he was looking for kinnikinnick, a wild plant that gave good flavor to venison. It was really too early for the berries to form, but the leaves were good.
His attention was drawn to a humming sound far behind him. He halted, examining the sky. There it was, a tiny dot getting bigger. It was heading either toward him or toward the compound.
The horses had gotten used to machinery sounds, and there was not much to choose at the moment between the buzz overhead and the mutter of noise in the compound not three miles ahead of them.
Jonnie's curiosity turned to a feeling of unrest. Where was that object going? It was very low, not traveling very fast now.
Suddenly he knew it was heading for him.
There had been a row of planes in a field near the compound. Twenty of them that Terl had ferried in and left in the open. This was one of them.
It was about a hundred feet up, almost stopped. The roar was making the horses nervous.
Jonnie kicked Windsplitter ahead and started straight for the compound.
The plane drew off, turned, and then with a shattering burst of speed dove on him.
The earth before the horses erupted in explosions of dirt.
Windsplitter reared and tried to spin away. Clods battered the horses.
Jonnie's ears ached with the explosions. He turned the horses in another direction, to the right.
The earth erupted in a long line in front of him.
Windsplitter began to plunge in terror. One of the pack horses broke loose.
Jonnie wheeled and began to race to the north.