Jonnie said, “There are other ways of handling economies. You could phase every war industry you have over to what is called 'consumer production.' You make things for the people. The people are employed. They make things for one another. Your people are your best market for your industries.
"In the near future there will be cross-shipping between your worlds. The Psychlos had it worked out that everything was first shipped to Psychlo. By that very fact, they throttled trade. It will be worked out so that you can quickly and cheaply exchange goods from one system to another. Out of that alone will come prosperity.
“Your people, now starving and rioting, can become gainfully employed in peace industries. They can have things for themselves. Such things as better houses and furniture, better clothes, better food.
“You have a golden chance here to herald an age of prosperity and plenty!”
He wasn't quite reaching them. They were listening, which was all you could say.
“That doesn't handle riots going on right now!” said Dom.
Jonnie looked at him. Now for the big plunge that would make Voraz shudder. “I am sure the Galactic Bank would be pleased to make huge and ample loans to governments that would use the money to buy food for their peoples and tide them over to a time when peacetime industry could be phased in. That and the news of no war again would halt your riots and stabilize your governments.”
Browl looked at Voraz. “Would you do that?”
Voraz found he had MacAdam on one side of him and the baron on the other. They both were jabbing him to say yes. He just sat there.
Jonnie was talking again. “And I am sure the bank would make available all necessary loans to convert your industries over to consumer production. Not only that, I am quite sure that the bank would engage in making loans to the private sector: to small businesses and even to individuals so they could purchase new products.”
Voraz ignored the jabs he was getting. He was looking at Jonnie. This young man was talking about “commercial banking,” a thing usually relegated to petty little stalls on streets, a half-credit here and a quarter-credit there sort of thing.
Jonnie went on. “And I also wish to inform you that many new planets will be on the market. You will be able to borrow money to buy them and ample funds to colonize them with what you now consider 'excess population.' " Jonnie raised his voice a bit and spoke very levelly at Voraz. "Isn't that correct, Lord Voraz?”
The head of the Galactic Bank felt like he was in a tidal wave. He hadn't really agreed he would let this young man set bank policy. Should he get up and denounce it?
The Galactic Bank had dealt with nations. Then suddenly he realized they had depended upon the Psychlos.
Voraz thought furiously. The bankers of the Gredides knew how to do these things. He thought of their own vast population, much of it always unemployed. Suddenly he had a vision of small offices of the Galactic Bank springing up in every town, every continent, every planet, manned with Selachees...neighborhood banks! Lending money to small businesses and all comers, even employees. Hadn't they done that once? Before Lord Loonger? Yes...he recalled.... It would employ an awful lot of Selachees!
And these planets to colonize. Lending money to buy them.... He was abruptly hit with the fact that he would have to do something with one million, two hundred thousand planets! They couldn't just sit in trust idle. And getting them into production would keep pace with the money supply so as to avoid inflation. This young man was trying to get these excess assets busy.
But, but, but! he protested to himself, this idea of lending money to governments so they could buy food for their people and just give it away.... That was social banking! It was not unknown. But this phase-over period he was talking about would be long. These governments would be in debt up to their gills.
Suddenly Lord Voraz shot an awed look at Jonnie. Did he really know what he was doing to these haughty lords and their governments– if they approved it all?
Yes! He could see it in his eyes. He did!
“Answer, Voraz!" said Browl. “Is it true you would do those things and on that scale?”
Voraz stood up. “My lords, it so happens that the Galactic Bank has just come into possession of assets a thousand or more times greater than anything it ever controlled before. It will be necessary to put those assets to work. You have all been good credit risks. The answer is, yes. With the proper papers and formalities and commitments, the Galactic Bank stands prepared to make those loans as described.”
The lords sat for a while. This expansion of policy was very sweeping.
“And now, my lords,” said Jonnie. “Could we discuss this treaty of intergalactic peace?”
They were hesitating. Worse, some of them looked negative. Mr. Tsung's quote flicked through his mind: “The power of money and gold over the souls of men passes all wondering.” These were not men, but it fit. Dominated by Psychlo materialism over the long ages, they had come to think like Psychlos. He would have to treat them like Psychlos, appeal to their personal greed.
It was slightly repugnant to his own ethical sense to do what he knew now he would have to do. But there were too many lives, too many civilizations at stake to fail here.
Jonnie moved to the front of the platform. He knelt down to get his head at the level of theirs. “Turn off that spotlight!” he called to the back. It died. “Turn off all recorders!” he barked at the button cameras.
“They're off,” a small thin voice came back.
Jonnie looked at the audience. “Turn off any recorders you are holding.” And to the small gray men, “There must be no bank recorders on and you must so attest!”
The small gray men tapped their lapels with a twist. “We attest they are off.” He certainly had their attention now. They were riveted.
Jonnie turned his head to the lords. In a conspiratorial tone that they had to strain forward to hear, he said, “You didn't think I would leave each one of you personally out of this, did you?”
They were very alert.
“What do your major firms manufacture?” whispered Jonnie.
“Armaments,” came whispering back.
“And what do you think will happen to interests in those firms, to their stocks and bonds?”
The lords wondered that he didn't know. “They'll crash!”
“Precisely,” said Jonnie, still whispering. “Let me tell you what this is really all about. If you went home and talked loudly and widely about a treaty forbidding all war, the stocks and bonds and interests in those armaments firms would go out the bottom. And if, without mentioning yet any plans to convert those firms to consumer products or the promises of the bank to make adequate loans, you and your friends let those armaments firms crash and then bought up all their shares and interests, possibly even with loans from the bank, you would own them utterly. Meanwhile, you would be heroes to the people for giving them money for food and the rioting would stop. Then, when you were fully in control, the bank would make conversion loans. Those firms would boom. The merely wealthy would become millionaires, the millionaires would become billionaires.”
He crouched there for a moment longer. Then he said, “You must forget that I mentioned this or even spoke of it.”
He stood up.
He waited. Had he been wrong? He couldn't be. Their thinking had been conditioned too long by the oppression of the Psychlos.
They began to buzz to one another. Then there was a little tittering laugh behind one hand, a drawing closer together of heads.
Whispered remarks began to drift up to Jonnie. “I can get a new mistress.” “My wife always hated that old castle.” “I won't have to sell my yacht.”