"Yes, sir, but all the transfers of mineral rights haven't been completed."
"Let me worry about that. And Thorpe?"
"Yes, Mr. Lynn."
"I'll be having a full security company with your crew for protection."
"Is there a need? I mean, has there been some trouble that I should know about?"
"Just taking precautions." Lynn cut off the communication, then stared at the door through which the biologist had left. Lynn's eyes narrowed as he clenched his fists. "It's not profits, Hyman. It's Fellman!"
Dale Stevenson felt the bite of the morning chill as he walked from his quarters at the subschool to the local RMI auditorium.
There were many things that had to be prepared as Doctor Fellman made his circuit of RMI subschools. First, the auditorium had to be opened, which was the easy part. After the lecture, as the mass of Benda males divided into discussion groups, Stevenson and the other discussion-group leaders would again be embroiled in the telling questions and spirited arguments of the students for the next nine days. Then Fellman would appear for a lecture and begin the process all over again.
As he approached the door to the auditorium, he nodded at the students who had gathered there, then he motioned to the RMI security guard standing beside the door. "Let's open it up."
The guard shook his head. "My orders are to keep these doors closed."
Stevenson sighed. "Look… what's your name?"
"Bartlet, Mr. Stevenson."
"Then you know who I am."
"Yes, sir. But my orders come from Mr. Lynn. The auditorium is to remain closed for the day."
Stevenson held out his hands. "There is some mistake, Mr. Bartlet. This auditorium has to be open for Doctor Fellman to deliver his lecture."
The guard shook his head. "My orders stand until Mr. Lynn changes them. I'm sorry."
Stevenson fumed a bit, then moved to the door and tried the handle. The door rattled but would not open. He motioned to a couple of Benda males who were observing the conversation. "You two. Pull this door open."
The males grinned at each other, then moved toward the door. Bartlet pulled a solid projectile weapon from the holster at his side and aimed it at Stevenson. "If they go near that door, Stevenson, I have orders to shoot!"
Stevenson's eyes widened, then he laughed. "Nonsense!" He turned back to the two Benda and pointed at the door. "Go to it."
A sharp report deafened them all. The guard, his face red, looked around at the students, then back at Stevenson on the ground holding his thigh. "I told you! My orders are to shoot!"
Stevenson looked at the guard, his eyes wide and glassy with shock. "My god, man, have you lost your mind?"
"I got my orders!"
The guard turned and faced the circle of Benda males as a low growl began at one side. He pointed his gun at a particularly huge male who began advancing. "Stand back! Stand back or I'll shoot!" He squeezed the trigger again and again as hairy black hands reached for his throat.
Distath looked out of the door beyond his garden and examined with pleasure the rocks and fields of his Dishah's land. The human's lessons on property were complicated, but caused him many hours of profound thought. He rolled the words with his tongue. "Without a right to exist at some place, no other rights can exist." He nodded, then started as he saw a movement among the rocks. A Benda—a female, not of his Dishah. He ran from the house toward the movement, left the garden and vaulted the low fence. As he approached the rocks, a golden female stepped forth and bowed her head. "Forgive me… forgive me this intrusion. It is my husband, Virsth."
Distath glowered at the female, then held out a hand. "What of Virsth?"
"Distath, the humans have come with great machines to take my family's land." She hung her head, then looked into the male's eyes. "Virsth sent me to warn you."
Distath swung his head back, then looked down at the female. "You realize the impropriety of a female not of my Dishah being on my land?" He shook his shaggy head. "What care have I that the humans take Virsth's property? He is to care for his Dishah, and I mine."
The female looked up into Distath's eyes. "The humans come for your land as well, Distath. This is the message I was given to deliver… as my husband died from a wound delivered at the hands of the humans. Do with it what you will!"
Lynn's office door opened and two guards pulled a struggling Michael Fellman into the room, then released him before Lynn's desk. "Lynn, what are you—"
"You're fired." Lynn returned to the papers on his desk. "If you are found anywhere on company property you will be arrested under Quadrant Savage Planet Regulations as a trespasser." He glanced up. "That's all."
Five days later, as his shuttle touched down at the RMI field on Bendadn, Damon Stirnak watched from his view port as Jacob Lynn crossed the tarmac toward the craft. He heard the shuttle door open, then he waited and watched. Lynn hesitated at the bottom step, then he moved into the shuttle. Stirnak did not rise as Lynn entered the passenger compartment, nor did he offer Lynn a seat. Lynn appeared to Stirnak to be having difficulties about what to do with his hands. They clasped in front, went into his coat pockets, jumped out and clasped behind Lynn's back, then went off to hide themselves in his trouser pockets. Stirnak leaned his head back against the seat and closed his ice-blue eyes. "Stop fidgeting, Lynn."
"Yes, Mr. Stirnak." Lynn took a deep breath and halted his nervous movements through sheer will.
"You know, of course, why I am here?"
"No, sir. I was only notified of your arrival a few minutes ago."
"Surely when your office applied for military assistance under the QSP Regulations it knew that the fact would come to the attention of RMI."
Lynn shrugged. "Of course, but everything is well in hand. I see no need for an Executive Office investigator."
Stirnak nodded, then opened his eyes and fixed Lynn to the deck. "Lynn, what is going on down here?"
Lynn wet his lips. "It's all in the application for assistance, Mr. Stirnak. There have been four attacks on RMI facilities by locals—"
"Why? Why have these attacks happened? According to the Hyman Report, submitted by your office five years ago, the locals should—right now—be a whipped and dying population."
"I can explain."
"Do."
Lynn wet his lips again. "It's Fellman and some of the other instructors RMI hired to staff the school system. They turned everything around, making the locals hostile."
"How did this happen?"
Lynn shrugged. "I'm not the one who screened the applicants for those positions. That's a Main Office headache."
Stirnak rubbed his chin, closed his eyes, then opened them again. "Lynn, I am going to give you a free hand with this problem."
"Thank you, Mr. Stirnak."
Stirnak held up a hand and shook his head. "Save your thanks, Lynn. I'm putting you on the spot."
Lynn frowned. "Sir?"
"The Manifest Destiny plan was cooked up and submitted by your office. RMI has made and will make no official notice of the plan. That includes, as well, your present attempts at resolving the situation. You are on your own."
"I see." Lynn nodded. "If everything works out, I'm a hero, but—"
"—But if this all falls apart, Lynn, you will find yourself in a high wind, and very much alone." Stirnak motioned to a seat opposite his. "First sit, then tell me what you plan to do about the Benda."
Several mornings later, Dale Stevenson, hobbling on an improvised crutch, spotted Michael Fellman at the edge of the clearing that the instructors had been camping in. He pursed his lips against the ache in his leg, and moved toward him. Fellman looked around and smiled. "It's good to see you up and around, Dale." Michael pointed at the leg. "And how is your badge of courage?"