Our client would be extremely unhappy-probably was unhappy already, if they had managed to puzzle out the queer terrestrial progress reports we had been sending them. And this was the kind of client that a flackery didn't want to have unhappy. I mean, all the others were little-league stuff in comparison. The Arcturan Confederacy was a culture as wealthy and as powerful as all Earth governments combined, and as Arcturans don't bother with nonsense like national governments or private enterprise, at least not in any way that makes sense to us, this one client was-as big as every other possible client combined.
They were the ones who decided they needed this base in Belport, and it was up to M & B-and specifically to me, Odin Gunnarsen- to see that they got it.
It was too bad that they had been fighting Earth six months earlier. In fact, in a technical sense we were still at war. It was only armistice, not a peace, that had called off the H-bomb raids and the fleet engagements.
Like I say. M & B takes on the tough ones!
Besides Haber, four of the staff looked as though they knew which end was up. Candace Harmon, the pry-integration programmer, and two very junior T.A.s. I took the head chair at the conference table without waiting to see where Haber would want to sit and said, "We'll make this fast, because we're in trouble here and we don't have time to be polite. You're Percy?" That was the programmer; he nodded. "And I didn't catch your name?" I said, turning to the next along the table. It was the copy chief, a lanky shave-headed oldster named Tracy Spockman. His assistant, one of the T.A.s I had had my eye on, turned out to be named Manny Brock.
I had picked easy jobs for all the deadheads, reserving the smart ones for whatever might turn up, so I started with the copy chief. "Spockman, we're opening an Arcturan purchasing agency, and you're it. You should be able to handle this one; if I remember correctly, you ran the Duluth shop for a year."
He sucked on a cal pipe without expression. "Well, thanks, Mr. Gun-"
"Just Gunner."
"Well, thanks, but as copy chief-"
"Manny here should be able to take care of that. If I remember the way you ran the Duluth operation, you've probably got things set up so he can step right in." And so he probably did. At least, it surely would do no real harm to give somebody else a chance at lousing things up. I handed Spockman the "positions wanted" page from the paper I'd picked up at the scatport, and a scrawled list of notes I'd made up on the way in. "Hire these girls I've marked for your staff, rent an office, and get some letters out. You'll see what I want from the list. Letters to every real estate dealer in town, asking them if they can put together a five-thousand-acre parcel in the area covered by the zoning referendum. Letter to every general contractor, asking for bids on buildings. Make it separate bids on each-I think there'll be five buildings altogether. One exoclimatized-so get the airconditioning, heating, and plumbing contractors to bid, too. Letter to every food wholesaler and major grocery outlet asking if they are interested in bidding on supplying Arcturans with food. Fax Chicago for what the Arcturans fancy; I don't remember-no meat, I think, but a lot of green vegetables-anyway, find out and include the data in the letters. Electronics manufacturers, office equipment dealers, car and truck agencies-well, the whole list is on that piece of paper. I want every businessman in Belport starting to figure out by tomorrow morning how much profit he might make on an Arcturan base. Got it?"
"I think so, Mr.-Gunner. I was thinking. How about stationery suppliers, attorneys, C.P.A.'s?"
"Don't ask-do it. Now, you down at the end there-"
"Henry Dane, Gunner."
"Henry, what about club outlets in Belport? I mean specialized groups. The Arcturans are hot for navigation, sailing, like that; see what you can do with the motorboat clubs and so on. I noticed in the paper that there's a flower show at the armory next Saturday. It's pretty late, but squeeze in a speaker on Arcturan fungi. We'll fly in a display. They tell me Arcturans are hot gardeners when they're home-love all the biological sciences-nice folks, like to dabble." I hesitated and looked at my notes. "I have something down here about veterans' groups, but I haven't got the handle for it. Still, if you can think of an angle, let me know-what's the matter?"
He was looking doubtful. "It's only that I don't want to conflict with Candy, Gunner."
And so, of course, I had to face up to things and turn to Candace Harmon. "What's that, honey?" I asked.
"I think Henry means my Arcturan-American Friendship League." It turned out that that had been one of Haber's proudest ideas. I wasn't surprised. After several weeks and about three thousand dollars it had worked up to a total of forty-one members. How many of those were employees of the M & B branch? "Well, all but eight," Candace admitted at once. She wasn't smiling, but she was amused.
"Don't worry about it," I advised Henry Dane. "We're folding the Arcturan-American Friendship League, anyway. Candace won't have time for it. She'll be working with me."
"Why, fine, Gunner," she said. "Doing what?"
I almost did marry Candace one time, and every once in a while since I have wished I hadn't backed away. A very good thing was Candace Harmon.
"Doing," I said, "what Gunner says for you to do. Let's see. First thing, I've got five hundred Arcturan domestic animals coming in tomorrow. I haven't seen them, but they tell me they're cute, look like kittens, are pretty durable. Figure out some way of getting them distributed fast-maybe a pet shop will sell them for fifty cents each."
Haber protested, "My dear Gunner! The freight alone-"
"Sure, Haber, they cost about forty dollars apiece just to get them here. Any other questions like that? No? That's good. I want one in each of five hundred homes by the end of the week, and if I had to pay a hundred dollars to each customer to take them, I'd pay. Next: I want somebody to find me a veteran, preferably disabled, preferably who was actually involved in the bombing of the home planet-"
I laid out a dozen more working lines-an art show of the Arcturan bas-relief stuff that was partly to look at but mostly to feel, a 3-V panel show on Arcturus that we could plant. . . the whole routine. None of it would do the job, but all of it would help until I got my bearings. Then I got down to business. "What's the name of this fellow who's running for councilman-Connick?"
"That's right," said Haber.
"What've you got on him?" I asked.
I turned to Candace, who said promptly, "Forty-one years old, Methodist, married, three kids of his own plus one of the casualties, ran for State Senate last year and lost, but he carried Belport, running opposed to the referendum this year, very big in Junior Chamber of Commerce and V.F.W.-"
"No. What've you got on him?" I persisted.
Candace said slowly, "Gunner, look. This is a nice guy."
"Why, I know that, honey. I read his piece in the paper today. So now tell me the dirt that he can't afford to have come out."
"It wouldn't be fair to destroy him for nothing!"
I brushed aside the "fair" business. "What do you mean, 'for nothing'?"
"We're not going to win this referendum, you know."
"Honey, I've got news for you. This is the biggest account anybody ever had, and I want it. We will win. What've you got on Connick?"
"Nothing. Really nothing," she said quietly.
"But you can get it."
Candace said, visibly upset, "Of course, there's probably some-"
"Of course. Get it. Today."
II
But I wasn't relying totally on anyone, not even Candace. Since Connick was the central figure of the opposition I caught a cab and went to see him.