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“Of course you can, Mandamus. Think of the fact that once the job is done, you will be sure of a post as the head of the Institute before very much time has elapsed. That will sweeten the job for you.”

And Amadiro kept a close eye on Mandamus thereafter.

59

On Mandamus’s third trip, much of his earlier uneasiness had worn off and he could carry himself almost as though he were an Earthman. The project was proceeding slowly but dead center along the projected line of progress.

He had experienced no health problems on his earlier visits, but on this third one—no doubt due to his overconfidence—he must have exposed himself to something or other. At least, for a time he had an alarming drippiness of the nose, accompanied by a cough.

A visit to one of the City dispensaries resulted in a gamma globulin injection that relieved the condition at once, but he found the dispensary more frightening than the illness. Everyone there, he knew, was likely to be ill with something contagious or to be in close contact with those who were ill.

But now, at last, he was back in the quiet orderliness of Aurora and incredibly thankful to be so. He was listening to Amadiro’s account of the Solarian crisis.

“Have you heard nothing of it at all?” demanded Amadiro.

Mandamus shook his head. “Nothing, sir. Earth is an incredibly provincial world. Eight hundred Cities with a total of eight billion people—all interested in nothing but the eight hundred Cities with a total of eight billion people. You would think that Settlers existed only to visit Earth and that Spacers did not exist at all. Indeed, the news reports in any one City deal about ninety percent of the time with that City alone. Earth is an enclosed, claustrophilic world, mentally as well as physically.”

“And yet you say they are not barbarian.”

“Claustrophilia isn’t necessarily barbarism. In their own terms, they are civilized.”

“In their own terms!—But never mind. The problem at the moment is Solaria. Not one of the Spacer worlds will move. The principle of noninterference is paramount and they insist that Solaria’s internal problems are for Solaria alone. Our own Chairman is as inert as any other, even though Fastolfe is dead and his palsied hand no longer rests on us all. I can do nothing by myself—until such time as I am Chairman.”

Mandamus said, “How can they suppose Solaria to have internal problems that may not be interfered with when the Solarians are gone?”

Amadiro said sardonically, “How is it you see the folly of it at once and they don’t?—They say there is no hard evidence that the Solarians are totally gone and as long as they—or even some of them—might be on the world, there is no right for any other Spacer world to intrude uninvited.”

“How do they explain the absence of radiational activity?”

“They say that the Solarians may have moved underground or that they may have developed a technological advance of some sort that obviates radiation leakage. They also say that the Solarians were not seen to leave and that they have absolutely nowhere to go to. Of course, they were not seen leaving because no one was watching.”

Mandamus said, “How do they argue that the Solarians have nowhere to go to? There are many empty worlds.”

“The argument is that the Solarians cannot live without their incredible crowds of robots and they can’t take those robots with them. If they came here, for instance, how, many robots do you suppose we could allot to them—if any?”

“And what is your argument against that?”

“I haven’t any. Still, whether they are gone or not, the situation is strange and puzzling and it is incredible that no one will move to investigate it. I’ve warned everyone, just as strenuously as I can, that inertia and apathy will be the end of us; that as soon as the Settler worlds become aware of the fact that Solaria was—or might be—empty, they would have no hesitation in investigating the matter. Those swarmers have a mindless curiosity that I wish we had some share in. They will, without thinking twice, risk their lives if some profit lures them on.”

“What profit in this case, Dr. Amadiro?”

“If the Solarians are gone, they have, perforce, left almost all their robots behind. They are—or were—particularly ingenious roboticists and the Settlers, for all their hatred of robots, will not hesitate to appropriate them and ship them to us for good Space credits. In fact, they have announced this.

“Two Settler ships have already landed on Solaria. We have sent a protest over this, but they will surely disregard the protest and, just as surely, we will do nothing further. Quite the contrary. Some of the Spacer worlds are sending out quiet queries as to the nature of the robots that might be salvaged and what their prices would be.”

“Perhaps just as well,” said Mandamus quietly.

“Just as well that we’re behaving exactly as the Settler propagandists say we will? That we act as though we are degenerating and turning into soft pulps of decadence?”

“Why repeat their buzz words, sir? The fact is that we are quiet and civilized and have not yet been touched where it hurts. If we were, we would fight back strongly enough and, I’m sure, smash them. We still far outstrip them technologically.”

“But the damage to ourselves will not be exactly pleasurable.”

“Which means that we must not be too ready to go to war. If Solaria is deserted and the Settlers wish to plunder it, perhaps we ought to let them. After all, I predict that we will be all set to make our move within months.”

A rather hungry and ferocious look came over Amadiro’s face. “Months?”

“I’m sure of it. So the first thing we must do is to avoid being provoked. We will ruin everything if we move toward a conflict there is no need to fight and undergo damage even if we win—that we don’t need to suffer. After all, in a little while, we are going to win totally, without fighting and without damage.—Poor Earth!”

“If you’re going to be sorry for them,” said Amadiro with spurious lightness, “perhaps you’ll do nothing to them.”

“On the contrary,” said Mandamus coolly. “It’s precisely because I fully intend to do something to them—and know that it will be done—that I am sorry for them. You will be Chairman!”

“And you will be the head of the Institute.”

“A small post in comparison to yours.”

“And after I die?” said Amadiro in half a snarl.

“I do not look that far ahead.”

“I am quite—” began Amadiro, but was interrupted by the steady buzz of the message unit. Without looking and quite automatically, Amadiro placed his hand at the EXIT slot. He looked at the thin strip of paper that emerged and a slow smile appeared on his lips.

“The two Settler ships that landed on Solaria—” he said.

“Yes, sir?” asked Mandamus, frowning.

“Destroyed! Both destroyed!”

“How?”

“In an explosive blaze of radiation, easily detected from space. You see what it means? The Solarians have not left after all and the weakest of our worlds can easily handle Settler ships. It is a bloody nose for the Settlers and not something they’ll forget.—Here, Mandamus, read for yourself.”

Mandamus pushed the paper aside. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean that the Solarians are still on the planet. They may merely have booby-trapped it somehow.”

“What is the difference? Personal attack or booby-trap, the ships were destroyed.”

“This time they were caught by surprise. What about next time, when they are prepared? And what if they consider the event a deliberate Spacer attack?”