He said, “Good to see you, Jim,” and Vorish responded, “You’re looking well, sir,” and they moved off to inspect the guard.
When they reached the end of the last line, Corning said, “That’s as much ego lub as I can stand for one day. Now let’s go where we can talk.”
“Your quarters or mine?” Vorish asked.
The admiral sniffed the sea air. “Jim. I’ve been in space for six months. Let’s have a look at that beach.”
They strolled out beyond the perimeter and seated themselves on boulders where the surf washed gently beneath their feet. The devastation of the construction site was hidden from them; the nearest sentry was fifty meters away. Corning sniffed the sea breeze again, and observed, “Nice place here. Your men look as though they’d enjoyed it. You’re looking pretty good yourself.” He paused. “Jim, just what is going on here?”
“I don’t suppose headquarters showed you my reports,” Vorish said, “so I had copies made for you.”
He handed them to Corning, and then he walked a few paces along the beach and stood watching the lapping waves while the admiral quickly perused the reports.
Finally Corning said, “All right—I’ve read enough to get the idea. I’ll go through them carefully tonight. What official action did they take?”
“None,” Vorish said.
“You mean—you formally submitted these reports, and headquarters took no action at all?”
“Neither report was acknowledged. When I asked to be informed as to action taken, headquarters Z’d them.”
Coming’s lips shaped a soundless whistle. “I agree with you absolutely. It’s a damnable mess, and eventually heads will roll, but that’s no concern of yours. Your duty was to report the situation, which you did. Sit down here.”
Vorish perched himself on an adjacent boulder.
“Now then. What’s this nonsense about a few native huts?”
“According to my orders, I’m an impartial referee here,” Vorish said. “I’m to maintain the peace, which means that I protect Wembling against any excesses perpetrated by the natives, but I also protect the natives against infringement upon their customs, property, sacred places, and so on. Paragraph seven.”
“I’ve read it.”
“The idea being—I assume—that if the natives are treated properly, Federation citizens and property are less likely to need protection. Those few huts are called, by the natives, ‘The Teacher’s Village,’ and the place seems to have a religious significance to them.”
“Ah! That would make it a sacred place in terms of your orders. I take it that Wembling busted right in and started tearing the place apart.”
“That he did.”
“And you’d warned him ahead of time that he had to have the natives’ permission, and he laughed it off. Up to that point your conduct was not only proper but commendable, and no one will fault you. But why did you have to close Wembling down and stop his work completely? Why didn’t you just make him put his golf course somewhere else? If he’d complained about that, he’d have been laughed at. By stopping his operation you’ve cost him time and money, and now he has a valid grievance—and he has plenty of political influence.”
“I closed him down for his own protection,” Vorish said.
“His own—protection?” Corning echoed blankly.
“He’d defiled a sacred place. If the natives had retaliated, I would have been responsible. So I placed him under guard and restricted his workers.”
Corning burst into laughter. “That’s very good! For his own protection! All right—I’ll support that. I think I can keep you from being shot.”
“Is that what they were planning?” Vorish asked with a grin.
“They were—are—planning to do their worst,” the admiral said soberly. “I don’t like it, but I have my orders. You’ll return to Galaxia on the Hiln, under arrest, to stand court-martial.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I’m looking forward to describing Wembling’s iniquities for the public record.”
“That’s the last thing headquarters will want, and if you insist on a public court-martial they’ll probably tell you to forget it and give you a commendation. So insist.”
“I’ll insist,” Vorish promised. “A private hearing wouldn’t accomplish a thing—except maybe get me shot. I’m glad I’m leaving Langri in capable hands.”
“Not in my hands, you’re not,” Corning said. “Not for long. The 984th Squadron is on its way to take over. Eleven ships. Headquarters is taking no chances on the Langri situation getting out of hand. The commander is Vice Admiral Ernst Dallman. A good man. Know him?”
18
Submaster Jarvis Jarnes presented himself to the court in the only manner possible—with temerity. Although the Justice His Eminence Blorr Figawn had not precisely said so, his manner on the occasion of Jarnes’s previous appearance clearly indicated that His Eminence was sick of the sight of him, and His Eminence had a long memory. And Jarnes himself had lost track of the number of unsuccessful actions he had undertaken for the people of Langri.
His Eminence greeted Jarnes with resignation and a prolonged scowl. “Must we go through this again, Submaster Jarnes?”
“It is of crucial import, Your Eminence. The natives of Langri—”
“Ah, yes. Those poor natives. If there were any possible succor, I assure you—” He paused and then said sternly, “What is it this time?”
“A petition for an injunction, Your Eminence.”
“I suspected as much.”
“It concerns Wembling and Company’s use of its Langrian charter, Your Eminence.”
“Submaster Jarnes, are you—the words are those of your honorable opponent and the counsel to Wembling and Company, Master Khorwiss—are you inflating trivialities again?”
“I hope not, Your Eminence.”
“So do I. You may proceed.”
His expression of polite boredom matched that of Clerk Wyland, who was seated beneath the justice’s projection. There were no spectators. “I’ll be brief, Your Eminence,” Jarnes promised. “I am petitioning for a court-directed work stoppage and a thorough review of the ‘natural resources’ clause in Wembling and Company’s charter.”
“Again?” the justice asked politely.
“The survival of a world’s population is at stake, Your Eminence. The plight of the natives is desperate. I have proof—”
“I am well aware of that plight, Submaster Jarnes. You have brought it to my attention repeatedly, and while I no doubt have my weaknesses and foibles, I do not number a poor memory among them. Nor do I stand second to anyone in my sympathy for those poor natives. Unfortunately, I must apply the law and observe the rulings of Higher Court. What is the basis for your challenge this time?”
“Golf courses, Your Eminence.”
“Golf courses?” the justice repeated incredulously.
“Yes, Your Eminence. Wembling and Company plan the construction of a number of golf courses of unusually large size—one could even say absurdly large size. The number is far in excess of the possible needs of the resort under construction, and most of them will be in locations impossibly remote from the resort. Obviously they’re a subterfuge, Your Eminence. They are camouflage for a land grab that will further endanger the native population’s chances for survival, and Wembling and Company intend—”
The justice waved a precautionary finger. “Opinion of the plaintiff’s counsel is not evidential. Can you prove they’re a subterfuge?”