Jirik stared for a few seconds, and then dissolved into roaring laughter. Ralf Tomys sat quietly waiting for the Captain's laughter to subside. His irritatingly knowing smile remained intact.
Jirik finally regained control of himself. Suppressing a final burst of giggles, he wiped his tearing eyes and said, "You're kidding, right? I mean, these rimworlders can't seriously believe that they're going to rule the Empire!"
"No, not the Empire," replied Tomys seriously, "The entire human-occupied galaxy. And, they are quite serious, I assure you. it's a belief so strong that it could almost be called religious. They refer to it as a 'Manifest Destiny'. You see, they've accepted Atmos' theory completely. It has become an article of faith with them that the Empire will fall within 200 years. In the meantime, they are following a long-term plan that they think will let them save the Galaxy from barbarism or worse. They have only the best and most noble of motives, and sincerely believe that it is their duty to be ready to save mankind when the time comes."
"This is all just as interesting as hell," Jirik interrupted sarcastically, "And I needed a good laugh, but are we getting anywhere that I give a damn about?"
"Yes, we are, Captain," Tomys replied primly, "but permit me to get there in an orderly fashion. Now, as with all widespread and fervently held belief systems, 'Atmosism' has suffered a schism, and generated a 'heretical' group. This one is called the 'Actionist' Faction. The original group are called 'long-termers'. Some time ago, an Actionist with a sense of humor began referring to the long-termers as "Atmos' Spheres," and the pun stuck. The term is considered vaguely derogatory, and is not well accepted by the long-termers. But it caught on among the younger Actionists, and is widely used. If you hear someone described as a "Sphere" you're probably talking to an Actionist who is referring to a long-termer. If I were you, I'd avoid using the term myself, as it could offend a listener."
Jirik snorted. "They're all a bunch of crackpots; what the hell do I care what flavor crackpot they are?"
Tomys shrugged indifferently. "Just some advice, Captain. To help you navigate through an unfamiliar system, as it were.'
"You're right," Jirik admitted grudgingly. "I'm sorry. But where do we come into all this?"
"I'm coming to that, Captain." Tomys replied. "You see, Actionists and Long-termers alike share a common belief in their mission to save mankind. The difference is that the Long-Termers believe that the flow of history will inevitably result in their destiny being fulfilled. All that they need do is to see to it that their descendants are ready for the challenge. The University of the Rim has become one of the most prestigious schools in the Alliance. The average education level on the rim planets is now the highest outside the Empire, and they possess a library system unequaled in the Alliance. If you would really like to make a killing, Captain, take your ship to an Empire Sector Library, and bring back a load of copies of technical and scientific books. They'd be worth their weight in iridium here. Anyway, The Long-Termers have been quietly preparing their descendants to pick up the reins of civilization. The Alliance hasn't been bothered by them, because of their peacefulness, and because the type of development that they are experiencing is good for the Alliance, as well."
"The Actionists, however, are a different matter. They feel that it's not enough to prepare their descendants. They feel that they should be 'spreading the gospel' throughout the Alliance now, enlisting world after world, until they dominate the Alliance. They will then be in a position, they feel, to 'save' worlds as they are abandoned by the Empire, instead of waiting until civilization collapses completely and planets revert to barbarism. These people are the ones I'm investigating. I'm trying to find out if they are a threat to the Alliance, and if so, how much of a threat. There is evidence that at least some of them are militant enough to use terrorism and violence to further their plans. And that brings us to you and your crew, Captain."
"Finally!" Jirik muttered. Then, louder, "So what do you want from us? Exactly what can we do for you that you can't do for yourself?"
"You and your crew are outsiders, Captain," was Tomys' reply. "You are spacers. You are from the inner rim, and have frequent contact with the Empire. Given these peoples' appetite for information, I suspect that you have generated a lot of interest. You haven't noticed it because you've been occupied with your repairs. I'd bet that your crew has noticed, though. They're being lionized. They can't buy a drink, because someone else is buying. They don't have any problem finding people to talk to. In fact, groups congregate around them, hanging on their every word. It's almost a spacer's dream."
Tomys smiled, a genuine smile this time. "Who wouldn't be happy to talk to people who are so interested in where he's been and what he's seen? They're being pumped for information, of course, but in the nicest possible way."
Jirik grinned. "I can hardly wait. So, what do you want us to do? I mean, we've got no way of knowing what we should or shouldn't tell them. We're not trained agents."
Tomys returned his smile. "That's obvious, Captain. No, I don't want you or your crew to try to censor anything. You should get some good mileage from your old stories. All I want you to do is to listen as well as talk to your new 'friends'. As you can imagine, I'm most interested in the Actionists. Someone who's trying to pump you for information can reveal quite a lot of information themselves, if they're not careful. Simply let me know if you hear anything that you think may interest me. As you mentioned, you spent ten years in the Alliance Navy. You'll recognize the kind of information I mean if you hear it."
Jirik's surprise showed in his voice. "That's all? All this was just to get us to listen to bar gossip? No," He continued suspiciously, "there's got to be more to it than that. What's the catch?"
Tomys' expression was wounded. "There's no catch, Captain. I simply need your help in gathering intelligence. Your crew will be in no danger, I assure you!"
"Yeah, right," Jirik replied sardonically. "The Alliance has so many Class I's that they send one to check out a bunch of crackpots on the rim. Come on, Tomys," he continued, "I wasn't born yesterday. Nothing's that easy with a Class I spook!"
Tomys shrugged. "I didn't say that I wouldn't be doing other things, Captain. But your crew need not be involved in anything but information gathering. As you've said, you're not agents, and I don't plan to use you as agents. All that I want you to do is listen."
Jirik was still unsure. "Okay Mr. Spook," he said reluctantly, "We'll do our best to help. We had decided to do some nosing around to find a cargo anyway. But," he cautioned, "I'm not going to tell my troops to snoop. Except for Bran they're not too sophisticated. I don't want one of the damned fools making some paranoid fanatic suspicious. What I'll do is have them record anything that they can remember anyone saying. Will that do?"
"That will do nicely, Captain." Tomys' genuine smile was back. "I'll sort though the chaff for the wheat. Let's see, this is Wednesday. I'll come to this office Friday at, say, noon and pick up the tapes. It wouldn't be wise for me to come by your ship, I'm afraid. If you need to contact me before then, call this number," he proffered an ordinary business card, "And tell the person who answers that you have a package for me. I'll contact you as soon as I can."
"Spook crap again," Jirik replied with distaste. "Okay, I've got it." He put the card in his tunic pocket and rose to his feet. "I can't say it's been a real pleasure, Mr. Tomys, but you're not as much of an asshole as I would have expected from a Class I spook."
Tomys also rose, his smile turning into a grin, and proffered his hand. "And you're not quite the fat, dumb slob of a rocket jock I expected, either, Captain. Thank you for your time and your help."