Isaac Asimov: Lucky Starr And The Rings Of Saturn

All the dislike of the aging Serviceman for the young aristocrat was suddenly out in the open. "Such as what happened today: how a five-foot Terrestrial tore you apart until you howled and Zayon had to step in to save your life. Zayon will bear witness. Every man jack at the base will remember that you dared not show your face for days after this date-or will you have the nerve to show that torn face before it heals?"

"Be quiet!"

"I can be quiet. I need say nothing-if you will stop subordinating the good of Sinus to your private hatreds. Listen to what the Councilman has to say." He turned to Lucky. "I guarantee you a fair deal."

Bigman piped up, "What fair deal? You and Zayon will wake up one morning and find yourselves dead by accident and Devoure will be so sorry and send you lots of flowers, only after that there'll be no one to say how he needs robots to hide behind when a Martian is after his filthy skin. Then we'll go any way he likes. So why bargain?"

"There'll be nothing like that," said Yonge stiffly, "because I will give the complete story to one of the robots within an hour of my leaving here. He won't know which one, and he won't find out. If either Zayon or myself dies of anything but natural causes, the story will be relayed to the public sub-etherics in full; otherwise, not. I rather think Devoure will be anxious to see that nothing happens to Zayon or myself."

Zayon shook his head. "I don't like this, Yonge."

"You've got to like it, Zayon. You witnessed his beating. Do you think he wouldn't do his worst for you if you didn't take precautions? Come, I'm weary of sacrificing the honor of the Service to the nephew of the director."

Zayon said unhappily, "Well, what is your information, Councilman Starr?"

Lucky said in a low voice, "It's more than information. It's surrender. There is another Councilman on what you call Sirian territory. Agree to treat my friend as a prisoner of war and safeguard his life by forgetting the roboticide incident and I'll take you to this other Councilman."

Bigman, who, to the end, had been certain that Lucky had some stratagem on hand, was appalled. He called out in a heartbroken wail, "No, Lucky! No! I don't want to be pulled out that way."

Devoure was openly astonished. "Where? No ship could have penetrated our defenses. It's a lie."

"I'll take you to the man," said Lucky wearily, "if we come to an arrangement."

"Space!" growled Yonge. "It's an arrangement."

"Wait," said Devoure angrily. "I admit this could be of value to us, but is Starr suggesting that he will openly testify to the conference on Vesta that this other Councilman invaded our territory and that Starr voluntarily revealed his hiding place?"

"It's the truth," said Lucky. "I will so testify."

"The word of honor of a Councilman?" sneered Devoure.

"I have said I will testify."

"Well, then," said Devoure, "since our Servicemen will have it so, you may have your lives hi exchange." His eyes suddenly sparked fury. "On Mimas. Is that it, Councilman? Mimas?"

"That is correct."

"By Sinus!" Devoure rose to his feet in agitation. "We almost missed it. Nor did this occur to the Service."

Zayon said with thought, "Mimas?"

"The Service still doesn't get it," said Devoure with a malignant scowl. "Three men were on The Shooting Starr, obviously. Three entered Mimas; two left; one stayed behind. It was your report, Yonge, I believe, which stressed the fact that Starr always worked with his companion in a party of two."

"He always had," said Yonge.

"And was there no flexibility left in you to consider the possibility of a third? Shall we go then to Mimas?" Devoure seemed to have lost his mad passion for revenge in the stress of this new development, almost to have regained the mocking irony he had displayed when the two Terrestrials had first landed on Titan. "And you will give us the pleasure of your company, Councilman?"

"Certainly, Mr. Devoure," said Lucky.

Bigman moved away, face averted. He felt worse now, he thought, than even in that last moment of robotic advance when the metal limbs were on his arm, ready to smash.

The Shooting Starr was in space again, but not as an independent ship. It was caught in firm magnetic grapple and moved according to the impulses of the engines of the accompanying Sirian ship.

The trip from Titan to Mimas took the better part of two days, and it was a hard time for Lucky, a bitter, suspenseful time.

He missed Bigman, who had been taken from him and placed on the Sirian ship. (The two on separate ships, Devoure had pointed out, were hostages for each other's good behavior.)

It was the Sirian Serviceman, Harrig Zayon, who made the second on the ship. There was a stiffness about him. He made no effort to repeat his original attempt to convert Lucky Starr to Sirian views, and Lucky could not resist taking the offensive in the matter. He asked if Devoure were an example, in Zayon's eyes, of the superior race of human beings that inhabited the Sirian planets.

Zayon said reluctantly, "Devoure has not had the benefit of Service training and Service discipline. He is emotional."

"Your colleague, Yonge, seems to consider it more than that. He makes no secret of his low opinion of Devoure."

"Yonge is-is a representative of an extreme view among the Servicemen. That scar on his arm was received during some internal troubles that attended the rise of the present director of the Central Body to power."

"Devoure's uncle?"

"Yes. The Service was on the side of the previous director, and Yonge followed orders with Serviceman's honor. As a result he was passed over for promotion under the new regime. Oh, they send him out here and appoint him to the committee which will represent Sirius at Vesta, but in actual fact he is under Devoure."

"The director's nephew."

"Yes. And Yonge resents it. Yonge cannot bring himself to understand that the Service is an organ of the state and does not question its policies or have anything to do with the question of which individual or group is to govern it. He is an excellent Serviceman, otherwise."

"But you have not answered the question as to whether you found Devoure a satisfactory representative of the Sirian elite."

Zayon said angrily, "What about your Earth? Have you never had unsatisfactory rulers? Or even vicious ones?"

"Any number," admitted Lucky, "but we are a miscellaneous lot on Earth; we vary. No ruler can stay in power very long if he doesn't represent a compromise among us. Compromising rulers may not be dynamic, but neither are they tyrannical. On Sirius you have developed a sameness among yourselves, and a ruler can go to extremes along the lines of that sameness. For that reason autocracy and force in politics are not the exceptional interlude that they are on Earth, but are the rule with you."

Zayon sighed, but it was long hours before he spoke to Lucky again. It was not until Mimas was large in the visiplate and they were decelerating to land.

Zayon said, "Tell me, Councilman. I ask you on your honor. Is this a trick of some sort?"

Lucky's stomach tightened, but he said calmly, "What do you mean by a trick?"

"Is there really a Councilman on Mimas?"

"Yes, there is. What do you expect? That I have a force knot concealed on Mimas designed to blow us all to nothingness?"

"Perhaps something like that."

"And what would I gain? The destruction of one Sirian ship and a dozen Sirians?"

"You would gain your honor." ~ Lucky shrugged. "I have made a bargain. We have a Councilman down there. I will go and get him and there will be no resistance."

Zayon nodded. "Very well. I suppose you would not make a Sirian after all. You had better stay an Earthman."

Lucky smiled bitterly. That, then, was the source of Zayon's ill humor. His stiff Serviceman's sense of honor objected to Lucky's behavior even when he believed Sirius to be benefiting by it