Kemul blinked. Finally he spat. “Ah, what use has Kemul for fancy eats and a fancy harem? Kemul does well enough.”
Luang caught Flandry’s real meaning. He saw that she was a little shocked; not that she found any sacredness in the existing order of things, but the idea of complete social change was too radical. She lit another cigarette from the butt of the first and fumed a while with eyes closed, forehead bent on her knees. When she glanced up again, she said:
“I remember now, outworld man. Things I have read in books. Even a few very old ones, that Biocontrol must think were all burned long ago. Unlike most, I know how the masters first came to power. And we can’t overthrow them. At least, not without dying.” She stretched like a cat. “And life amuses me.”
“I realize Biocontrol has the sole knowledge of how to manufacture the antitoxin,” Flandry said. “But once you stood over their technicians with a gun—”
“Listen to me,” said Luang. “When Unan Besar was first colonized, Biocontrol was merely one arm of the government. Troubles came that I don’t quite know about: foolishness and corruption. Biocontrol was staffed by men who were very clever and… what word?… saintly? They wanted the best for this planet, so they issued a proclamation calling for a certain program of reform. The rest of the government didn’t like this. But Biocontrol was standing by the great vats where the antitoxin is made. The process must be watched all the time, you understand, or it goes bad. One man, pulling the wrong switch, can ruin an entire batch. Biocontrol could not be attacked without danger of wrecking those vats. The people were afraid they would get no more medicine. They forced the government men to lift the seige of Biocontrol, and yield.
“Then Biocontrol was the whole government. They said they would not rule forever, only long enough to establish the best social order for Unan Besar. One that was carefully planned and would endure.”
“I see.” Flandry spoke with a coyote grin. “They were scientists, and wanted a rationalized civilization. Probably they subscribed to some version of Psychotechnocracy. It was a popular theory in those days. When will the intellectuals learn that scientific government is a contradiction in terms? Since people didn’t fit into this perfect scheme-and the scheme being perfect by definition, this must be the fault of the people-Biocontrol never did find an occasion to give up its power. After a few generations, it evolved into an old-fashioned oligarchy. Such governments always do.”
“Not quite.” He wasn’t sure how closely the girl had followed him. Perforce he used many Anglic words, hoping Pulaoic had cognates. But her gaze was steady on him and she spoke with almost a scholar’s detachment. “Biocontrol was forever Biocontrol. I mean, they have always recruited promising boys and trained them to tend the vats. Only after a long period of service, rising from grade to grade, can a member hope to get on the governing board.”
“So… it is still a rule by technicians,” he said. “Odd. The scientific mentality isn’t well suited to governing. I’d expect Biocontrol would hire administrators, who would eventually make all the real decisions.”
“That did happen once, about two hundred years ago,” she said. “But a dispute arose. The corps of hireling experts started giving orders independently. Several Biocontrol people realized that Biocontrol had become a mere figurehead. One of them, Weda Tawar-there are statues to him all over the planet-waited until his turn to go on watch. Then he threatened to destroy the vats, unless the hireling corps surrendered itself to him. His fellow conspirators had already seized the few spaceships and were prepared to blow them up. Every human on Unan Besar would have died. The hirelings capitulated.
“Since then, Biocontrol has done its own governing. And during his novitiate, every member is trained and sworn to destroy the vats-and, thus, all the people-if the power of his fellowship is threatened.”
That explains the general sloppiness, Flandry thought. There’s no bureaucracy to control things like slums and crime rates. By the same token, Biocontrol itself no longer exists for any reason except to man the brewery and perpetuate its own meaningless power.
“Do you think they actually would carry out their threat, if it came to that?” he asked.
“Many of them, at least,” said Luang. “They are very harshly trained as boys.” She shivered. “It’s not a risk to take, outworld man.”
Kemul stirred on the floor. “Enough of this buttertonguing!” he grumbled. “We’ve still not learned what you really came here for.”
“Or why the Guards want you,” said Luang.
It grew most quiet. Flandry could hear the lapping of oily water against the piles below him. He thought he could hear thunder, far out over the jungle. Then someone cursed down in the tavern, there was a scuffle, a joy girl screamed and a body splashed in the canal. Only a minor argument: the loser could be heard swimming away, and the music resumed.
“They want me,” said Flandry, “because I can destroy them.”
Kemul, who had ignored the fight under his broad bottom, half rose. “Don’t joke Kemul!” he gasped. Even Luang’s cool eyes widened, and she lowered her feet to the floor.
“How would you like to be free men?” Flandry asked. His gaze returned to Luang. “And women,” he added. “Obviously.”
“Free of what?” snorted Kemul.
“Most obviously… Oh. Yes. How would you like to be done with Biocontrol? To get your antitoxin free, or for a very low price that anyone can afford? It’s possible, you know. You’re being outrageously overcharged for the stuff, as a form of taxation which, I’m sure, has been screwed higher each decade.”
“It has,” said Luang. “But Biocontrol possesses the vats, and the only knowledge of their use.”
“When Unan Besar was colonized,” Flandry said, “this whole sector was backward and anarchic. The pioneers seem to have developed some elaborate process, probably biosynthetic, for preparing the antitoxin. A process which even in that day would have been clumsy, old-fashioned. Any decent laboratory, on Spica VI, for instance-can now duplicate any organic molecule. The apparatus is simple and foolproof, the quantity that can be manufactured is unlimited.”
Luang’s lips parted to show small white teeth. “You want to go there,” she whispered.
“Yes. At least, that’s what Brothers Bandang and Warouw are afraid I want to. Not a bad idea, either, Mitsuko Laboratories on Spica VI would pay me a handsome commission for calling as juicy a market as Unan Besar to their attention. Hm, yes-s-s,” said Flandry dreamily.
Kemul shook his head till the gray hair swirled. “No! Kemul doesn’t have it badly, the way things are. Not badly enough to risk the cage for helping you. Kemul says turn him in, Luang.”
The girl studied Flandry for a long minute. Her face was not readable. “How would you get off this planet?” she asked.
“Details.” Flandry waved a hand in an airy gesture.
“I thought so. If you don’t know, how can we? Why should we hazard anything, least of all our lives?”
“Well-” Flandry flexed his arms, trying to work out some of the tension that stiffened them and made his voice come out not quite natural. “Well, we can discuss that later.”
She blew smoke. “For you,” she said, “will there be a later?”
He donned the smile which had bowled over female hearts from Scotha to Antares. “If you wish it, my lady.”
She shrugged. “I might. If you make it worth the risk and trouble. But Kemul already took everything you were carrying. What can you buy your next thirty days with?”