The Heaven Makers Part 3

"Mmmm, yes," Kelexel said. "My offspring, however, requires constant diversion. I'm prepared to pay a very high price for the privilege of placing him with your organization until my contract of responsibility terminates."

Kelexel sat back, waiting. "He will be suspicious of you, naturally," the Bureau's experts had said. "He will think you seek to place a spy among his crewmen. Be alert to his inner reactions when you make your offer."

Watching now, Kelexel saw the Director's disquiet. Is he fearful? Kelexel wondered. He shouldn't be fearful -- not yet.

"It saddens me," Fraffin said, "But no matter the offer, I must refuse."

Kelexel pursed his lips, then: "Would you refuse . . ." And he named a price that astonished Fraffin.

That's half as much as I could get for my entire planetary holding, Fraffin thought. Is it possible Ynvic's wrong about him? This couldn't be an attempt to put a spy among us. All our crewmen are bound to the compact of shared guilt. No new man can learn what we do until he's hopelessly compromised. And the Bureau wouldn't try to buy one of us. They don't dare give me grounds for pleading entrapment.

"Is it not enough?" Kelexel asked. He stroked his chin. The Bureau's experts had said: "You must act the part of a responsible citizen concerned over his parental contract, perhaps even a bit doting and slightly embarra.s.sed by it."

"It, uhh, grieves me," Fraffin said, "but there's no price I'll accept. Were I to lower the barriers to one rich man's offspring, my s.h.i.+p soon would become a haven for dilettantes. We're a working crew, chosen only for talent. If your offspring wishes to train for a post, however, and go through the normal channels . . ."

"Not even if I doubled the offer?" Kelexel asked.

Is it really the Bureau behind this clown? Fraffin wondered. Or could he be one of the Galaxy Buyers?

Fraffin cleared his throat. "No price. I am sorry."

"Perhaps I've offended you?"

"No. It's just that my decision is dictated by self-preservation. Work is our answer to the Chem nemesis . . ."

"Ahh, boredom," Kelexel murmured.

"Precisely," Fraffin said. "Were I to open the doors to any bored person with enough wealth, I'd multiply all our problems. Just today I dismissed four crewmen for actions that'd be commonplace were I to hire my people the way you suggest."

"Four dismissed?" Kelexel said. "Lords of Preservation! What'd they do?"

"Deliberately lowered their s.h.i.+elds, let the natives see them. Enough of that happens by accident without compounding it."

How honest and law abiding he tries to appear, Kelexel thought. But the core of his crew has been with him too long, and those who leave -- even the ones he dismisses -- won't talk. Something's at work here which can't be explained by legality.

"Yes, yes, of course," Kelexel said, a.s.suming a slightly pompous air. "Can't have fraternizing with the natives out there." He gestured toward the surface with a thumb. "Illegal, naturally. d.a.m.nably dangerous."

"Raises the immunity level," Fraffin said.

"Must keep your execution squads busy."

Fraffin allowed himself a touch of pride, said: "I've had to send them after fewer than a million immunes on my planet. I let the natives kill their own."

"Only way," Kelexel agreed. "Keep us out of it as much as possible. Cla.s.sic technique. You're justly famous for your success at it. Wanted my son to learn under you."

"I'm sorry," Fraffin said.

"Answer's definitely no?"

"Definitely."

Kelexel shrugged. The Bureau'd prepared him for outright rejection, but he hadn't quite prepared himself for it. He'd hoped to play out the little game of negotiation. "I hope I haven't offended you," he said.

"Of course not," Fraffin said. And he thought: But you've warned me.

He had come around to complete agreement with Ynvic's suspicions. It was something about this Kelexel's manner -- an inward caution that didn't fit the outer mask.

"Glad of that," Kelexel said.

"I'm always curious about the merchant world's current price," Fraffin said. "I'm surprised you didn't bid on my entire holding."

You think I've made a mistake, Kelexel thought. Fool! Criminals never learn.

"My holdings are too diverse, require too much of my attention as it is," Kelexel said. "Naturally, I'd thought of bidding you out and giving all this to my offspring, but I'm quite certain he'd make a mess of it, ruin it for everyone. Couldn't invite that sort of censure on myself, you know."

"Perhaps the alternative, then," Fraffin said. "Training, the normal channels of application . . ."

Kelexel had been prepared and sharpened for this task over a period long even to the Chem. The Primacy and the Bureau contained men who fed on suspicion and they smarted under continued failure with Fraffin's case. Now, the tiny betrayals in Fraffin's manner, the patterned evasions and choice of words were summed up in the Investigator's awareness. There was illegality here, but none of the crimes they'd considered and discussed. Somewhere in Fraffin's private domain there was a dangerous something -- odorous and profoundly offensive. What could it be?

"If it is permitted," Kelexel said, "I shall be happy to study your operation and make appropriate suggestions to my offspring. He will be delighted, I know, to hear that the great Director Fraffin granted me these few attentions."

And Kelexel thought: Whatever your crime is, I'll find it. When I do, you'll pay, Fraffin; you'll pay the same as any other malefactor.

"Very well, then," Fraffin said. He expected Kelexel to leave now, but the man remained, staring offensively across the desk.

"One thing," Kelexel said. "I know you achieve quite complex special effects with your creatures. The extreme care, the precision engineering of motives and violence -- I just wondered: Isn't it rather slow work?"

The casual ignorance of the question outraged Fraffin, but he sensed a warning in it and remembered Ynvic's words of caution.

"Slow?" he asked. "What's slow to people who deal with infinity?"

Ahh, Fraffin can be goaded, Kelexel thought as he read the signs of betrayal. Good. He said: "I merely wondered if . . . I hesitate to suggest it . . . but does not slowness equate with boredom?"

Fraffin sniffed. He'd thought at first this creature of the Bureau might be interesting, but the fellow was beginning to pall. Fraffin pressed a b.u.t.ton beneath his desk, the signal to get the new story under way. The sooner they were rid of this investigator the better. All the preparations with the natives would help now. They'd play out their parts with rigorous nicety.

"I've offended you at last," Kelexel said, contrition in his voice.

"Have my stories bored you?" Fraffin asked. "If so, then I've offended you."

"Never!" Kelexel said. "So amusing, humorous. Such diversity."

Amusing, Fraffin thought. Humorous!

He glanced at the replay monitor in his desk, the strip of story action in progress, s.h.i.+elded and displayed there for only his eyes. His crews already were getting to work. The time was ripe for death. His people knew the urgency.

His mind went down, down -- immersed in the desk viewer, forgetting the Investigator, following the petty lives of the natives.

They are the finite and we the infinite, Fraffin thought. Paradox: the finite provides unlimited entertainment for the infinite. With such poor creatures we insulate ourselves from lives that are endless serial events. Aii, boredom! How you threaten the infinite.