“He’s the head of the government of the independent world of Langri,” Wembling said. “Whether he understands or not, the decision is his to make.” He turned to Ayns. “Do we have a copy of that treaty?”
Ayns pulled the general referencer toward him and punched buttons. “Yes. Here it is. What about it?”
“How does one obtain concessions under it?”
Ayns took the time to read the treaty. “You’d have to obtain them from the government of Langri,” he said finally.
Wembling strode to the window. He said over his shoulder, “How many places do you suppose that treaty is on file?”
“Not many. It isn’t an important treaty.”
“How many of them could you fix?”
“Some. Maybe half. It’d be much easier to fix the references so the computers would lose it for a few years. Would a few years be enough?”
“One year would be enough. What a fool I’ve been! All these months of work trying to peddle a few piddling ideas to these stupid natives and make myself ambassador to Binoris, and the mineral wealth of a dozen worlds couldn’t buy Langri’s vacation potential. I’ve had the financial coup of my life right under my nose and I never saw it.”
“What about the medical center?” Talitha asked.
“They’ll have their medical center. Right away. We’ll have to solve Langri’s health problems to protect our work force and the tourists, and the sooner we do that the better. You can go back on the next courier ship, Hirus, and get to work on that treaty. As soon as it’s taken care of we’ll get the world reclassified and apply for a charter.”
“It’ll take time and money to lose the treaty,” Ayns said.
“You can have all you need.” Wembling returned to his desk, adjusted his chair, and faced Ayns. “While you’re working on the treaty, you can set up an office for Wembling and Company and hire a sharp law firm. Look for some competent people in construction and resort planning. We can start stockpiling supplies immediately, so we’ll be ready to move the moment the charter is issued.”
“Won’t the natives object to that?” Ayns asked.
“Probably.” Wembling grinned at him. “I’ll tell them the stuff is for their medical center. Part of it will be. We’ll use the medical center as a pilot project.”
“You’ll need an expert in medical research,” Talitha said.
“Not an expert. Just a competent technician. We’ll bring one in the moment facilities are ready. He can give the world a routine going over and have the medical problems solved before the resort opens. A couple of cases of that Hot Sickness would destroy a resort. I promise you, Tal—we’ll solve all the natives’ medical problems. We’ll have to. The medical center will be a good investment in public relations, too, just in case later on there’s a stink about the treaty.”
“If the resort is going to make that much money, you should give the natives some of the profits,” Talitha said. “It’s their world you’ll be using.”
Wembling cocked his head and looked at Ayns, who nodded slowly. “Ten per cent?” Wembling asked. Ayns nodded again. “Good idea,” Wembling said. “We’ll put ten per cent of the profits in trust for them. When the treaty tampering is discovered, it’ll be more than worth the cost. It’ll make us look like humanitarians.” He turned to Talitha. “All right, Tal. Your natives will get their medical center and a thorough study of their diseases. They’ll also get ten per cent of the resort profits, and eventually that’ll be enough to support the whole native population. In addition, there’ll be a lot of resort jobs they can handle if they want them, and we’ll pay them well for festivals and koluf feasts for the tourists. They’ll be doing very nicely for themselves. Satisfactory?”
Talitha smiled and nodded.
“There is one thing, though.” He looked at her calculatingly. “I’m going to have to get rid of Hort.”
“Am I supposed to cry?” she asked belligerently. “If you have to, then get rid of him.”
“I thought you liked the guy.”
“I don’t dislike him. Away from Langri he might be an interesting person, but one gets tired of lectures about gourds and native hunting techniques.”
“Firing him might make him suspicious,” Ayns said. “Let me find him a plush assignment somewhere else.”
“Good idea. I won’t fire him, I’ll promote him. That all right with you, Tal?”
“Whatever you think best,” she said. “How soon will our medical center be ready?”
11
Fornri ran.
He widely circled the village, where Dabbi’s small body lay surrounded by mourners, and he moved at top speed along a forest path, forcing himself forward, ignoring protesting muscles and aching lungs, willing his body to respond to his desperate haste.
At a point where several paths intersected, he panted to a halt, looked about him carefully, and then burrowed into the apparently impenetrable undergrowth that lined the path.
He emerged in a small clearing. Two native youths were lolling in front of a native dwelling, bored with waiting for nothing to happen. Banu sat cross-legged on the ground nearby, head bowed, eyes closed, sifting his recollections. At one side was a hammock, where the Elder lay resting. All of them leaped up when Fornri burst upon them, and they waited expectantly while he tried to catch his breath.
Finally he was able to speak. He gasped, “The ambassador is the enemy!”
The secret headquarters was but one of many parts of the Plan that they could not understand. It was a meeting place for those responsible for the Plan. It also was the center of a complicated arrangement for keeping track of every alien on Langri. The children were organized into an army of small patrols, and the moment the ambassador or one of his staff made a move, a child nipped off at top speed to the secret headquarters to report that fact. A map had been sketched on the level ground in front of the dwelling, and by means of stones the position of every alien was marked, and his every movement followed.
They did it even though it made no sense to them, because the Plan said they should do it. In the beginning the embassy staff had been larger, and many of its members wandered about with little to do; but very soon the ambassador decided that they weren’t needed and sent them away. Of the four staff members remaining, three of them always accompanied the ambassador. Further, the ambassador had asked for natives to assist him and give him information when he needed it, and he never went anywhere without a large escort. The leadership council frequently debated why the children should bring reports about the ambassador when he always had adult natives with him.
Then there was Aric Hort, who very quickly became one of them, a genuine friend who was always willing to help them in disagreements with the ambassador. It seemed almost a breach of friendship to be following him about secretly when everything he did was done so openly.
The Plan said they must know where everyone was, all the time, and they followed the Plan. They had no choice.
The ambassador’s sister-daughter introduced a complication that made the Plan’s dictates more understandable. Everything she did was unpredictable. Worse, others reacted strangely to her. Aric Hort, having announced that he would go to a certain place, or do a certain thing, would meet her along the way and go elsewhere to do something entirely different.
That was bad enough, but the ambassador’s unexpected dash into the forest to show his sister-daughter the ferry, along with Aric Hort’s dash after them, left the council confounded. After weeks and months of painstaking care always to have the ferries in use when the ambassador passed that way, it was a shock to have their secret discovered by Miss Warr. Aric Hort had known, but they knew instinctively that Hort would not tell the ambassador. They knew nothing at all about Miss Warr.