Terl, with a wonderful smile on his mouthbones, stepped closer. “Now what I’m going to tell you, Ker, I will deny emphatically I ever said, and there is no record and you'll forget this conversation.”
Ker was instantly alert. As a hardened criminal he knew better than to trust security chiefs.
Ker wriggled in the chair that was too big for him.
"Numph," said Terl, “didn't appoint you.”
Ker got very alert!
"I did," said Terl. “And as long as you do exactly what I tell you to do, without ever telling anyone I told you to do it, you will be fine. More than fine. Wonderful!”
“They'll just send in a new Planet Head on Day 92,” said Ker. “That's only a couple of months off. And he'll find out if I’ve done anything wrong...yes, and he may find out I’m not welcome in certain universes.”
“No, Ker. I don't think you'll be replaced. In fact, I am very, very certain you will not be. You're good for this post for years.”
Ker was wary and puzzled, but Terl seemed so confident that he listened cautiously.
Terl opened an envelope and fanned out the evidence he had gathered on Numph. Ker looked at it with slowly widening eyes.
"A hundred-million-credit-a-year swindle,” said Terl. “Of which Numph got half. You're not only here for years but you'll be rich enough when you do go home to buy your record clean and live in luxury.”
The Psychlo midget studied it. It was a little hard to grasp at first. Nipe, Numph's nephew, was crediting full pay to the employees of this planet but was in fact diverting half the pay and all the bonuses into private accounts for himself and Numph. He finally got that. All he had to do was to continue to deny bonuses and pay only half-pay.
“Why are you doing this?” said Ker. “Do you get a slice of this? Is that it?”
“Oh, no. I don't even want a quarter of a credit of it. It 's all yours. But, of course, I am really doing it because I am your friend. Haven't I always protected you?”
“You've got enough blackmail on me already to get me vaporized,” said Ker. “Why this, too?”
“Now, Ker," said Terl reprovingly. Then he decided it was time to level. “I want you to issue any order I tell you to, and to give me an order in six months to go home.”
“That's fine,” said Ker. “I can even issue orders not to countermand any orders you issue. But I still don't see that I won't be relieved in two months.”
Terl got down to business. “This is the code Numph used. Vehicles-in-use numbers. You won't be relieved. Nipe, his nephew, has influence. This is your first coded message to Nipe.” He put it on the desk, reminding himself to destroy his own handwritten version as soon as Ker had it encoded in his.
The message said: "Numph assassinated by escaped criminal. New situation created. He appointed me especially to carry on. Arrangements are as always. Deposit his share to my numbered account Galaxy Trust
Company. Condolences. Happy future association. Ker."
“I don't have a numbered account,” said Ker.
“You will, you will. I have all the papers for you and they will go out in the next transshipment. Foolproof.”
Ker looked back at the message. For the first time since the murders he began to smile. He sat back, seeming to get bigger. Suddenly he reached forward and slapped paws with Terl, symbolizing full-hearted agreement.
When Terl left him, Ker had swelled up so much he was practically filling the chair.
The only reservation Terl had, as he swept on to his next scheduled action, was that the dim-witted little midget might overreach himself with pomposity and make some clownish mistake. But he'd keep an eye on him. He'd keep a close eye on him. And who cared what happened to Ker once Terl was off this planet!
Any potential alliance Jonnie might have had with Ker was wholly and totally severed.
Chapter 5
Terl's next actions were carefully observed by keen Scottish eyes in the hills.
Late the previous afternoon Terl had gone tearing off in an executive tank at high speed. He had headed toward the ancient city to the north and entered it.
About noon he left the ruins there and came roaring down the remains of the overgrown highway to the Academy.
Terl got out of the tank, faceplate of the breathe-mask glinting in the sun, and strode in a free and relaxed fashion in the direction of the sentry who came forward.
There was very little at the Academy now; a housekeeping unit and three Scot sentries, usually light-duty invalids recovering from some mishap.
This one had his arm in splints and in a sling. “What can I do for you, sir?” said the sentry in acceptable Psychlo.
Terl looked around. No vehicles left here– no, there was the tail of a small passenger plane. Must have them all up at the mine. Probably even running out of them.
He looked at the sentry. Probably running out of personnel, too, if Terl knew anything about the dangers of mining. Well, no matter. There were still some of them left alive.
He was wondering how to communicate with this animal. It had not registered on him that he had been addressed in Psychlo, simply because he didn't believe it. Animals were stupid.
Terl made gestures with his paws, indicating the height and beard of the head animal. He went through a pantomime of looking around, sweeping his arm toward himself and pointing at the spot beside him. Very difficult to get anything across to an animal.
“You probably mean Jonnie," said the sentry in Psychlo.
Terl nodded absently and wandered off. He'd probably have to wait until they flew up to the mine and brought him back, but that was quite all right.
He realized with an expansive good feeling that he now had lots of time; but more than that, he had freedom. He could go where he pleased and do what he pleased. He flexed his arms and wandered off. It might be an accursed planet but he had space now. It was as though invisible walls had been moved off him and miles away.
Some horses were grazing in a nearby park. Terl, to pass the time, practiced drawing his belt gun and firing. One by one he broke their legs. The resulting screaming of the agonized mounts was quite satisfactory. He was just as fast on the draw as ever, just as accurate. At two hundred yards, even! A black horse. Four draws, four fires. The horse was a skidding cloud of snow. What a caterwaul! Delicious.
Jonnie's voice behind him was a bit hard to hear in the racket but it didn't surprise Terl. He turned easily, mouthbones wreathed in a smile behind the faceplate.
“Want to try?” said Terl, pretending to hand over the gun.
Jonnie reached for it. Terl laughed an enormous laugh and put it back in his belt.
Jonnie had long since been waiting for Terclass="underline" from the moment Terl had started on this route from the city, he had known Terl would call here and he had flown down from the mine. It had seemed better not to let Terl know he was under observation and he had intended to delay a bit longer. But the screaming of the tortured horses had sickened him.
This was a much-changed Terl, very like his old self.
“Let's walk,” said Terl.
With a signal of the hand that Terl did not see, an angry Jonnie sent a Scot to slit the throats of the tortured, maimed horses and put them out of their misery. He steered Terl around the corner of a building to block his view of the action.
“Well, animal,” said Terl. “I see you are getting along just fine. I suppose you are trying for a second pocket.”