But Mayer's eyes had widened. "How did you know?" He whirled on
Plekhanov. "You're spying on my efforts, trying to negate my work!"
Plekhanov rumbled, "Don't be a fool, Mayer. My team has neither the time
nor interest to spy on you."
"Then how did you know--"
Barry Watson said mildly, "I was doing some investigation in the ship's
library. I ran into evidence that you people had already used the
blueprints for breech-loaders and mortars."
Jerry Kennedy came to his feet and rambled over to the messroom's bar.
"This seems to be all out spat, rather than a conference to compare
progress," he said. "Anybody for a drink? Frankly, that's the next thing
I'm going to introduce to Genoa, some halfway decent likker. Do you know
what those benighted heathens drink now?"
Watson grinned. "Make mine whisky, Jerry. You've no complaints. Our
benighted heathens have a national beverage fermented from a plant
similar to cactus. Ought to be drummed out of the human race."
He spoke idly, forgetful of the Tulan guards stationed at the doorway.
* * * * *
Kennedy passed drinks around for everyone save Mayer, who shook his head
in distaste. If only for a brief spell, some of the tenseness left the
air while the men from Earth sipped their beverages.
Jerry Kennedy said, "Well, you've heard our report. How go things on
Texcoco?"
"According to plan," Plekhanov rumbled.
Mayer snorted.
Plekhanov said ungraciously, "Our prime effort is now the uniting of the
total population into one strong whole, a super-state capable of
accomplishing the goals set us by the Co-ordinator."
Mayer sneered, "Undoubtedly, this goal of yours, this super-state, is
being established by force."
"Not always," Joe Chessman said. "Quite a few of the tribes join up on
their own. Why not? The State has a lot to offer."
"Such as what?" Kennedy said mildly.
Chessman looked at him in irritation. "Such as advanced medicine,
security from famine, military protection from more powerful nations.
The opportunity for youth to get an education and find advancement in
the State's government--if they've got it on the ball."
"And what happens if they don't _have it on the ball_?"
Chessman growled, "What happens to such under any society? They get the
dirty-end-of-the-stick jobs." His eyes went from Kennedy to Mayer. "Are
you suggesting you offer anything better?"
Mayer said, "Already on most of Genoa it is a matter of free
competition. The person with ability is able to profit from it."
Joe Chessman grunted sour amusement. "Of course, it doesn't help to be
the son of a wealthy merchant or a big politician."
Plekhanov took over. "In _any_ society the natural leaders come to the
top in much the same manner as the big ones come to the top in a bin of
potatoes, they just work their way up."
Jerry Kennedy finished his drink and said easily, "At least, those at
the top can claim they're the biggest potatoes. Remember back in the
twentieth century when Hitler and his gang announced they were the big
potatoes in Germany and men of Einstein's stature fled the
country--being small potatoes, I suppose."
Amschel Mayer said, "We're getting away from the point. Pray go on, my
dear Leonid. You say you are forcibly uniting all Texcoco."
"We are uniting all Texcoco," Plekhanov corrected with a scowl. "Not
always by force. And that is by no means our only effort. We are
ferreting out the most intelligent of the assimilated peoples and
educating them as rapidly as possible. We've introduced iron ..."
"And use it chiefly for weapons," Kennedy murmured.
"... Antibiotics and other medicines, a field agriculture, are rapidly
building roads ..."
"Military roads," Kennedy mused.
"... To all sections of the State, have made a beginning in naval
science, and, of course, haven't ignored the arts."
"On the face of it," Mayer nodded, "hardly approaching Genoa."
Plekhanov rumbled indignantly, "We started two ethnic periods behind
you. Even the Tulans were still using bronze, but the Genoese had iron
and even gunpowder. Our advance is a bit slow to get moving, Mayer, but
when it begins to roll--"
Mayer gave his characteristic snort. "A free people need never worry
about being passed by a subjected one."
Barry Watson made himself another drink and while doing so looked over
his shoulder at Amschel Mayer. "It's interesting the way you throw about
that term _free_. Just what type of government do you sponsor?"
Mayer snapped, "Our team does not interfere in governmental forms,
Watson. The various nations are free to adapt to whatever local
conditions obtain. They range from some under feudalistic domination to
countries with varying degrees of republican democracy. Our base of
operations in the southern hemisphere is probably the most advanced of
all the chartered cities, Barry. It amounts to a city-state somewhat
similar to Florence during the Renaissance."
"And your team finds itself in the position of the Medici, I imagine."
"You might use that analogy. The Medici might have been, well, tyrants
of Florence, dominating her finances and trade as well as her political
government, but they were benevolent tyrants."
[Illustration]
"Yeah," Watson grinned. "The thing about a benevolent tyranny, though,
is that it's up to the tyrants to decide what's benevolent. I'm not so
sure there's a great basic difference between your governing of Genoa
and ours of Texcoco."
"Don't be an ass," Mayer snapped. "We are granting the Genoese political
freedoms as fast as they can assimilate them."
Joe Chessman growled, "But I imagine it's surprising to find just how
slowly they can assimilate. A moment ago you said they were free to form
any government they wished. Now you say you feed them what you call
freedom, only so fast as they can assimilate it."
"Obviously we encourage them along whatever path we think will most
quickly develop their economies," Mayer argued. "That's what we've been
sent here to do. We stimulate competition, encourage all progress,
political as well as economic."
Plekhanov lumbered to his feet. "Amschel, obviously nothing new has been
added to our respective positions by this conference. I propose we
adjourn to meet again at the end of the second decade."
Mayer said, "I suppose it would be futile to suggest you give up this
impossible totalitarian scheme of yours and reunite the expedition."
Plekhanov merely grunted his disgust.
Jerry Kennedy said, "One thing. What stand have you taken on giving your
planet immortality?"
"Immortality?" Watson said. "We haven't it to give."
"You know what I mean. It wouldn't take long to extend the life span
double or triple the present."
Amschel Mayer said, "At this stage progress is faster with the
generations closer together. A man is pressed when he knows he has only
twenty or thirty years of peak efficiency. We on Earth are inclined to
settle back and take life as it comes; you younger men are all past the
century mark, but none have bothered to get married as yet."
"Plenty of time for that," Watson grinned.
"That's what I mean. But a Texcocan or Genoese feels pressed to wed in
his twenties, or earlier, to get his family under way."
"There's another element," Plekhanov muttered. "The more the natives
progress the more nearly they'll equal our abilities. I wouldn't want
anything to happen to our overall plans. As it is now, their abilities
taper off at sixty and they reach senility at seventy or eighty. I think
until the end we should keep it this way."
"A cold-blooded view," Kennedy said. "If we extended their life
expectancy, their best men would live to be of additional use to planet
development."
"But they would not have our dream," Plekhanov rumbled. "Such men might
try to subvert us, and, just possibly, might succeed."
"I think Leonid is right," Mayer admitted with reluctance.
* * * * *
Later, in the space lighter heading back for Genoa, Mayer said
speculatively, "Did you notice anything about Leonid Plekhanov?"
Kennedy was piloting. "He seems the same irascible old curmudgeon he's
always been."
"It seems to me he's become a touch power mad. Could the pressures he's
under cause his mind to slip? Obviously, all isn't peaches and cream in
that attempt of his to achieve world government on Texcoco."
"Well," Kennedy muttered, "all isn't peaches and cream with us, either.
The barons are far from licked, especially in the west." He changed the
subject. "By the way, that banking deal went through in Pola. I was able
to get control."
"Fine," Mayer chuckled. "You must be quite the richest man in the city.
There is a certain stimulation in this financial game, Jerry, isn't
there?"
"Uh huh," Jerry told him. "Of course, it doesn't hurt to have a marked
deck."
"Marked deck?" the other frowned.
"It's handy that gold is the medium of exchange on Genoa," Jerry Kennedy
said. "Especially in view of the fact that we have a machine on the ship
capable of transmuting metals."