The Galaxy Primes Part 35

So land the s.h.i.+p anywhere out there and I'll send a jeep out after you."

"Thanks, but no jeep. n.o.body but you knows that we've really got control of the _Pleiades_, and I want everybody else to keep on thinking it's strictly for the birds. We'll 'port in to your office whenever you say."

"I say now."

In no time at all the two Primes were seated in the private office of Eugene Evans, Head of the Legal Department of the newly re-incorporated Galaxian Society of Sol, Inc. Evans was a tall man, slightly thin, slightly stooped, whose thick tri-focals did nothing whatever to hide the keenness of his steel-gray eyes.

"The first thing, Gene," Garlock said, "is this employment contract thing. Have you figured out a way to break it?"

"It can't be broken." The lawyer shook his head.

"Huh? I thought you top-bracket legal eagles could break anything, if you really tried."

"A good many things, yes, especially if they're long and complicated.

The Standard Employment Contract, however, is short, explicit, and iron-clad. The employer can discharge the employee for any one of a number of offenses, including insubordination; which, as a matter of fact, the employer himself is allowed to define. On the other hand, the employee cannot quit except for some such fantastic reason as the non-tendering--not non-payment, mind you, but non-_tendering_--of salary."

"I didn't expect that--it kicks us in the teeth before we get started."

Garlock got up, lighted a cigarette, and prowled about the big room.

"Okay. Jim and I will have to get ourselves fired, then."

"Fired!" Belle snorted. "Clee, you talk like a man with a paper nose!

Who else could run the Project? That is," her whole manner changed; "he doesn't know I can run it as well as you can--or better--but I could tell him--and maybe you think I wouldn't!"

"You won't have to. Gene, you can start spreading the news that Belle Bellamy is a real, honest-to-G.o.d Prime Operator in every respect. That she knows more about Project Gunther than I do and could run it better.

Ferber undoubtedly knows that Belle and I have been at loggerheads ever since we first met--spread it thick that we're fighting worse than ever.

Which, by the way, is the truth."

"Fighting? Why, you seemed friendly enough...."

"Yeah, we can be friendly for about fifteen minutes if we try real hard, as now. The cold fact is, though, that she's just as much three-quarters h.e.l.lcat and one-quarter pota.s.sium cyanide as she...."

"I like _that!_" Belle stormed. She leaped to her feet, her eyes shooting sparks. "All _my_ fault! Why, you self-centered, egotistical, domineering jerk, I could write a book...."

"That's enough--let it go--_please!_" Evans pleaded. He jumped up, took each of the combatants by a shoulder, sat them down into the chairs they had vacated, and resumed his own seat. "The demonstration was eminently successful. I will spread the word, through several channels. Chancellor Ferber will get it all, rest a.s.sured."

"And _I'll_ get the job!" Belle snapped. "And maybe you think I won't take it!"

"Yeah?" came Garlock's searing thought. "You'd do anything to get it and to keep it. Yeah. I _do_ think."

"Oh?" Belle's body stiffened, her face hardened. "I've heard stories, of course, but I couldn't quite ... but surely, he can't be _that_ stupid--to think he can buy me like so many pounds of calf-liver?"

"He surely is. He does. And it works. That is, if he's ever missed, n.o.body ever heard of it."

"But how could a man in such a big job _possibly_ get away with such foul stuff as that?"

"Because all the SSE is interested in is money, and Alonzo P. Ferber is a tremendously able top executive. In the big black-and-red money books he's always 'way, 'way up in the black, and n.o.body cares about his conduct."

Belle, even though she was already convinced, glanced questioningly at Evans.

"That's it, Miss Bellamy. That's it, in a precise, if somewhat crude, nutsh.e.l.l."

"That's that, then. But just how, Clee--if he's as smart as you say he is--do you think you can make him fire you?"

"I don't know--haven't thought about it yet. But I could be pretty insubordinate if I really tried."

"That's the understatement of the century."

"I'll devote the imponderable force of the intellect to the problem and check with you later. Now, Gene, about the proposed Galactic Service, the Council, and so on. What is the reaction? Yours, personally, and others?"

"My personal reaction is immensely favorable; I think it the greatest advance that humanity has ever made. I have been very cautious, of course, in discussing, or even mentioning the matter, but the reaction of everyone I have sounded--good men; big men in their respective fields--has been as enthusiastic as my own."

"Good. It won't surprise you, probably, to be told that you are to be this system's councillor and--if we can swing it and I think we can--the first President of the Galactic Council?"

Evans was so surprised that it was almost a minute before he could reply coherently. Then: "I _am_ surprised--very much so. I thought, of course, that you yourself would...."

"Far from it!" Garlock said, positively. "I'm not the type. You are.

You're better than anyone else of the Galaxians--which means than anyone else period. With the possible exception of Lola, and she fits better on our exploration team. Check, Belle?"

"Check. For once, I agree with you without reservation. _That's_ a job we can work at all the rest of our lives, and scarcely start it."

"True--indubitably true. I appreciate your confidence in me, and if the vote so falls I will do whatever I can."

"We know you will, and thank _you_. How long will it take to organize? A couple of weeks? And is there anything else we have to cover now?"

"A couple of _weeks!_" Evans was shocked. "You are naive indeed, young man, to think anything of this magnitude can even be started in such a short time as that. And yes, there are dozens of matters--hundreds--that should be discussed before I can even start to work intelligently."

Hence discussions went on and on and on. It was three days before Garlock and Belle 'ported themselves up into the _Pleiades_ and the stars.h.i.+p displaced itself instantaneously to Margonia.

Meanwhile, on Margonia, James James James the Ninth went directly to the heart of his job by leading Lola and Fao into Delcamp's office and setting up its Gunther blocks.

"You said you want me to build your stars.h.i.+p. Okay, but I want you both--Fao especially--to realize exactly what that means. I know what to do and how to do it. I can handle your Operators and get the job done.

However, I can't handle either of you, since you both out-Gunther me, and I'm not going to try to. But there can't be two bosses on any one job, to say nothing of three or seventeen. So either I run the job or I don't. If either of you steps in, I step out and don't come back in. And remember that you're not doing us any favors--it's strictly vice versa."

"Jim!" Lola protested. Fao's hackles were very evidently on the rise; Delcamp's face was hardening. "Don't be so rough, Jim, _please_. That's no way to...."

"If you can pretty this up, pet, I'll be glad to have you say it for me.

Here's what you have to work on. If I do the job they'll have their stars.h.i.+p in a few weeks. The way they've been going, they won't have it in twenty-five years. And the only way to get that bunch out there to really work is to tell each one of them to cooperate or else--and enforce the 'or else.'"

"But they'd quit!" Delcamp protested. "They'll _all_ quit!"

"With suspension or expulsion from the Society the consequences?

Hardly." James said.

"But you wouldn't do that--you couldn't."