Amschel Mayer was incensed.
"What's got into Buchwald and MacDonald?" he spat.
Jerry Kennedy, attired as was his superior in fur trimmed Genoese robes,
signaled one of the servants for a refilling of his glass and shrugged.
"I suppose it's partly our own fault," he said lightly. He sipped the
wine, made a mental note to buy up the rest of this vintage for his
cellars before young Mannerheim or someone else did so.
"Our fault!" Mayer glared.
The old boy was getting decreasingly tolerant as the years went by,
Kennedy decided. He said soothingly, "You sent Peter and Fred over there
to speed up local development. Well, that's what they're doing."
"Are you insane!" Mayer squirmed in his chair. "Did you read this
radiogram? They've squeezed out all my holdings in rubber, the fastest
growing industry on the western continent. Why, millions are involved.
Who do they think they are?"
Kennedy put down his glass and chuckled. "See here, Amschel, we're
developing this planet by encouraging free competition. Our contention
is that under such a socio-economic system the best men are brought to
the lead and benefit all society by the advances they make."
"So! What has this got to do with MacDonald and Buchwald betraying my
interests?"
"Don't you see? Using your own theory, you have been set back by someone
more efficiently competitive. Fred and Peter saw an opening and, in
keeping with your instructions, moved in. It's just coincidence that the
rubber they took over was your property rather than some Genoese
operator's. If you were open to a loss there, then if they hadn't taken
over someone else could have. Possibly Baron Leonar or even Russ."
"That reminds me," Mayer snapped, "our Honorable Russ is getting too big
for his britches in petroleum. Did you know he's established a
laboratory in Amerus? Has a hundred or more chemists working on new
products."
"Fine," Kennedy said.
"Fine! What do you mean? Dean is our man in petroleum."
"Look here, if Russ can develop the industry even faster than Mike Dean,
let him go ahead. That's all to our advantage."
Mayer leaned forward and tapped his assistant emphatically on the knee.
"Look here, yourself, Jerry Kennedy. At this stage we don't want things
getting out of our hands. A culture is in the hands of those who control
the wealth; the means of production, distribution, communication. Theirs
is the real power. I've made a point of spacing our men about the whole
planet. Each specializes, though not exclusively. Gunther is our mining
man, Dean heads petroleum, MacDonald shipping, Buchwald textiles, Rykov
steel, and so forth. As fast as this planet can assimilate we push new
inventions, new techniques, often whole new sciences, into use.
Meanwhile, you and I sit back and dominate it all through that strongest
of power mediums, finance."
Jerry Kennedy nodded. "I wouldn't worry about old man Russ taking over
Dean's domination of oil, though. Mike's got the support of all the
_Pedagogue's_ resources behind him. Besides, we've got to let these
Genoese get into the act. The more the economy expands, the more capable
men we need. As it is, I think we're already spread a little too thin."
Amschel Mayer had dropped the subject. He was reading the radiogram
again and scowling his anger. "Well, this cooks MacDonald and Buchwald.
I'll break them."