Battlefield Earth Part 125

Lord Voraz was wavering. But he had not said yes.

MacAdam leaned back easily. "And we will put 199,989 planets and all company a.s.sets into a trust to be managed by the Galactic Bank. That gives you back your fund transfer profits. That lets you lease out mining rights. That surely saves your bank!"

"Wait," said Lord Voraz. And they thought he was going to turn it down. "I must be honest with you. You took your list of planets from the Intergalactic Coordinate Firing Table. It does not include the mine reserve planets. To push off all the planets it could on Intergalactic, and to bleed the company, there was an Imperial Decree that Intergalactic Mining Company had to own five planets for every one it actively mined. There is a list of one million additional planets recorded in the Hall of Legality, with their coordinates, unexploited by Intergalactic. Also I am afraid Dries never gave you the actual purchase contract for this planet. You keep speaking of it in the singular. It includes nine other planets in this system and all moons, mentioned in pa.s.sing because they are deemed worthless. There are also suns and nebulae and cl.u.s.ters. There is obviously an awful lot of Intergalactic property you don't know about. Would you leave it up to us to ferret it out and include that in the bank-managed trust also?"

MacAdam smiled. "Seem all right to you, baron? Find any flaws in that, Jonnie?"

Jonnie thought about it. There was another situation here they were evidently overlooking. But he saw nothing wrong with what the Earth bank was doing.

With a hand outstretched to Lord Voraz, MacAdam said, "We agree."

Voraz had made his point. He started to reach for the hand and then he drew back. "Such a deal has to be ratified by a Galactic Bank board meeting."

The baron laughed. "Good. Let's hold one. They can be convened anywhere in sixteen universes according to your charter."

"Ah, wait," said Lord Voraz. "There are twelve other board members: rich, influential Selachees who are-'

"Scared to death," the baron finished for him. "The state of the bank and the riots made them believe that they would lose all their personal property and fortunes if the bank went under. So they thought this was a great offer!"

Voraz gaped. "But they can't hold a board meeting behind my back!"

"Oh, they didn't," said the baron. "They gave me all their proxies and these delegate to me the right to place their votes." He reached down and threw another pack of doc.u.ments on the table. "There they are."

Lord Voraz stared at them. He recognized the personal seals. They had even been filed at the Hall of Legality.

"So as chairman," said the baron, "would you please convene a board meeting of the Galactic Bank at once and move that the Earth Planetary Bank buy two-thirds of the Galactic Bank-'

"It will have to be a typed resolution," said Voraz. "I do hereby convene the meeting. I even have my seals. But-'

"Here's the resolution," said the baron. "All typed. I'm awfully glad you're convening the meeting for it saves the trouble of going back to Snautch and getting you fired."

Voraz laughed suddenly. "You are a pair of hard rock eels! That was typed by my own secretary! That's her initial!"

"Right, right," said the baron. "A charming girl. She was trying to save your and her jobs! Now just sign there as Chairman of the Board and President-"

"Wait," said Voraz, suddenly sober and worried. "This is all very well. But there are three things that could ruin this whole deal and all of us."

Dries interjected, "The first is how do I get my money, cash right now, for the mortgage here!"

"Oh, that," said MacAdam. He scooped up a huge sheet of paper which unfolded yards long. "This is the Intergalactic Mining money transfer summary from your bank. It says that on day ninety-two of last year, there were certain Intergalactic funds in process of transfer. They were given over to the bank for further relay but the bank, of course, was thereafter unable to relay them.

Payments for metals, salaries...they're all listed here. They are still in your bank. It 's all Intergalactic money. When we were in Snautch we started an account for the Earth Planetary Bank. Let's see, the total of received and unrelayed funds from two hundred thousand planets for their past month was C209,438,97 1,438,643 credits. That's our money. Just subtract the mortgage from it and it still leaves us about one hundred sixty-eight trillion."

MacAdam rummaged around in his pile of papers. "Here's our letter of authorization and here is the receipt for you to sign, Dries."

The small gray man was sitting there, speechless. He was trying to realize he was solvent. He had not thought to recover more than ten trillion in a forced sale. He sat up and grabbed a pen to sign the receipt.

Lord Voraz stopped his hand. "That's all very well," he said in a worried voice. "But there are two other matters." He turned to Jonnie. "Can you forgive us for trying to treat you as a hired hand, Sir Lord Jonnie? It is quite true that we cannot operate at all without transs.h.i.+pment rigs and consoles. We are cut off. We used to s.h.i.+p all bank business on the Psychlo rigs, using our own bank boxes. They charged us heavily but to deliver a dispatch by s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p can cost fifty thousand credits and takes ages! Are you going to help us in this?"

"That's all Jonnie's," said MacAdam. "We at the bank don't own any part of it. Jonnie, we can make you a loan at low interest and help you set up a manufacturing plant. A separate company that you own. How about it?"

Chapter 2.

Jonnie roused himself. He had been so intent upon finance that he had to consciously force himself to think about technical matters.

It would be dangerous to Earth to have these consoles scattered through sixteen universes- thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands of rigs in not always friendly or well-meaning hands, run by other races.

You could do a lot of things with a console. You could transport people, send dispatch boxes, s.h.i.+p ores, s.h.i.+p finished goods, send food. But you could also send bombs as he himself had proven so fatally to the Psychlos, and as would have been the end of the Tolneps.

He had not thought much about the problem. Many other things had been very urgent. Yes, one console out there, much less half a million, could be very dangerous to this planet. "Give me a moment," he said.

Mr. Tsung also had his uses for the moment and brought them some tea and a tray of bites-between-meals. It was nearing lunchtime. It also, as he had wisely noted, gave Jonnie a needed moment to think.

The Psychlos had had Psychlo operators. It didn't make much difference about the platform and rig.

The same security measures could be used in the console itself. Possibly even improved a bit.

If he put a camera in the armored front of the case that would shoot a picture of every cargo....

Aha! Metal a.n.a.lysis detectors. If they were built into the platform itself, they could a.n.a.lyze a cargo from all sides, above and below, and if that were connected to a circuit no one could get at in the console and if that circuit had a metal tracer... Yes. If anything in a cargo matched forbidden traces like uranium or this ultimate bomb heavy element, the match of the circuit would separate a relay and the console would not fire...

It was a trifle difficult to think with all these faces staring at him, waiting. He didn't have to be told the fate of the banks depended upon it. And they hadn't mentioned a thing which could queer the whole deal.

If he got with Allen and MacKendrick and worked out disease...they said it had an aura. Anyway, there were disease viruses and bacterial traces and he could work those in, whether disease had an aura or not, and if anything on the platform matched, they would trigger that relay and the console wouldn't fire.

He could rig it so if any of such items were put on platforms for Earth, he could tie in the coordinates of Earth so that the console would blow up.

Then if a sign were put on every console in plain view like, "Any attempt to fire contraband cargo with this console will render it inoperative...." No list of things or else somebody might try to mask the trace. And if one added, "Any attempt to use this console in an act of war against Earth will cause it to explode...." Maybe even put out that the console could read evil intentions....

Yes, he could build a foolproof console.

And if the console seemed to be finally a.s.sembled in a place which was not known, by people who could not be found...

He could make the construction areas very heavily defended. He would let only a very trusted, unbribable few do the final a.s.sembly.... Start a school for extraterrestrial operators who knew only how to operate it....

"I think I can do that," he told them.

They all brightened up. Mr. Tsung took the tray away.

"However," said Jonnie, "the rigs will be a bit expensive."

Unimportant.

"And I will not sell them. I will only lease them. Every five years a console will have to be exchanged for a new one." That would keep going an Earth that had no real income, and it would permit an inspection of views of cargos that had been s.h.i.+pped. "Some extraterrestrial firm will have to be brought in to make components and cases. Otherwise it will take too long to build one."

"You can provide consoles?" asked Lord Voraz.

"He said he could," said the baron. "lf Jonnie says he is going to do something, watch it! He will!"

"All right," said Lord Voraz. "That brings us now to the most serious block of all." He pointed in the direction of the big conference room. "Those emissaries!"

Voraz looked very gloomy. "You are almost in the intergalactic banking business now and will be if this resolution is signed. You had better understand that it is very tricky business handling such as those!

"As you noted," he continued, "right now they have countries in riot. Their economies are in rags. But they are of such a nature that they will just sit there square in the middle of their prejudices, cling to their most arrogant opinions, and ignore everything else.

"Right this minute, I have better reason than you to know, they are absolutely counting on war to save their economies and their states. They think that war powers and war hysteria will distract the people and secure their own positions. It is their only formula.

"This bank lived in the shadow of the powerful even if hated Psychlos. They are gone. You, and even the Gredides, are small planets. You have no great military force. To be blunt, those lords will not respect you.

"I read the ripples in the water with Lord Schleim. He supposed the bank was no longer the power it had been. He thought he could violate a conference. He failed. But that kind of thinking couldn't have existed a mere thirteen months ago. Others among those haughty lords will get the same ideas sooner or later."

He pointed to the papers. "You have here more than one million, two hundred thousand habitable, useful worlds. It is very tasty bait for very big fish.

"Since these lords are bent on war to save their regimes, they will find a pretext not to respect the owners.h.i.+p of Intergalactic, Earth, or the bank.

They will raid these planets. They will quarrel over them. They will throw good sense and order to the winds and waves. The harder they are driven at home by economic chaos, the more they will seek a pretext to take outlaw actions."

Jonnie was listening to him. He had wondered for some time now when they would get around to this point. It was the key problem. And if it were left unhandled, all the doors they were trying to open would jam shut in their faces.

"Since I have been here," said Lord Voraz, "not one of those elegant aristocrats has failed to draw me aside and try to discuss his nation's chances for a war loan. Of course, we seldom make war loans. All we do is issue the bonds for them and let them sell them to each other. There's no real money in war loans. With economics this shaky, the chances of their being paid back are poor. Wars are not as popular with the people who fight them as with the lords who run them and profit by them! Revolutions could occur and revolutionaries are notorious as bad risks.

"So before you commit yourselves to these risks, you should understand them."

Jonnie stood up. These small gray men had not signed anything yet. He had been afraid there would be a quibble. He picked up his helmet and silver wand.

"Sir Robert and I discussed this. We rehea.r.s.ed it. It is risky. But I believe we have no choice. Do I have the temporary right, granted by all of you, to set bank policy for the next couple of hours? If it is successful, you will not be the losers. If I am not successful, you won't have lost anything."

"You set bank policy?" gaped Lord Voraz.

"Let him do it!" said the baron.

"But he might commit us to some course of-'

"You just better say yes, Lord Voraz," MacAdam said. "That's Jonnie Tyler there who's talking."

Lord Voraz looked numbly from MacAdam to the baron. I've not yet signed-"

"Nor have I," said Dries.

The baron reached over and made Voraz's head bob. "He said 'yes,' Jonnie. Go ahead."

"But he might do something dangerous," Lord Voraz was trying to sputter. "He is a very peculiar young man!"

Jonnie had already left with Sir Robert. A Sir Robert with a grim expression on his face.

Chapter 3.

The bowl of the firing platform area had been stripped of tarpaulins. A Russian trooper stood in each rifle pit, the noonday sun harsh on their white tunics and glittering weapons. A few emissaries lounged in the shade under the paG.o.da eaves.

Jonnie called for the host and ordered him to get the lords into the conference room.

Stormalong, hearing the stir, popped out of the ops room with a dispatch in his hands, intending to rush over to where Sir Robert and Jonnie stood. But the broad arm and bandaged hand of Colonel Ivan stopped him.

"Leave them alone," Colonel Ivan managed in English. He had his orders. He stood and watched the emissaries going in the conference room door. He knew Jonnie would be going in there in a moment and he knew what Jonnie was going to do. It made him a little nervous for Jonnie, since he would have no direct protection in there. A casual glance had told him that many of these lords were secretly armed for all their fine clothes and arrogant ways. When Jonnie gave them the shock that was planned, they might react in violence. It would be like swimming in a river full of crocodiles! Colonel Ivan made up his mind: if they hurt Jonnie, not one of these fine lords or these bank people would leave Earth alive. But that was no immediate help for Jonnie if they turned on him. And that they well might do.

Angus was kneeling by the atmosphere projector, putting some final touches to the adjustments. He glanced across the bowl, saw what was happening, and speeded his work up. They would need it in a moment.

Stormalong, frustrated, fluttered the dispatch in his hand and, still restrained by Ivan, watched the last of the lords file in. Then there went Sir Robert and Jonnie, following them.

Inside the conference room, the host was adjusting chairs and helping the lords get settled.

The small gray men and MacAdam and Baron von Roth entered and took seats along the wall.

Sir Robert stood with Jonnie alongside the raised platform. Sir Robert was shooting glances at the lords from under bushy gray eyebrows. Somehow these mighty powers had to be brought to heel. He did not much mind tearing into them. He just hoped the final outcome would not be disaster.

Martial music came on.

The host stood up. "My lords, this final stage of the conference has been called by the emissary of Earth. I present Sir Robert!"

It did not start well.

There was a buzz among the lords. They looked askance toward Voraz. Wasn't this supposed to be an auction? What was the Earth emissary doing talking to them?

Sir Robert in his regimentals took the center of the platform. The mine spotlight came on.

"My lords," he said in a heavy, sonorous voice, "we have something else to discuss besides auctions!"

"You mean," called Fowljopan, "that we have been delayed here for days for nothing?"

"Our food and atmosphere supply is running out," shouted Lord Dom, "and we are long overdue! Is all this just a waste of time?"

They were turning ugly. Voraz was signifying nothing, just sitting there, expressionless. He had a very poor opinion of this whole action.