"But there's nothing on it!"
Ross sounded a little amused. "There are some very nice people on
it--the natives are of the same species as we are, though they look a
little different. That means the air is breathable without aids. It's
quite a pleasant planet."
"That's not what I mean, sir. I mean there's nothing of any value--no
minerals, no artifacts, no valuable plant or animal products." He
searched his memory for what little he could remember about Nemar from
classes. He recalled that the planet had been discovered only forty
years ago by a Survey ship that had gone off course far toward the
outer rim of the galaxy. It had been incorporated into the Galactic
Union because it was considered dangerous to leave any inhabited planet
free of control; but it had not been considered a valuable addition. It
was far off the established trade routes, and seemed to contain nothing
worth the expense of transporting it. "The culture is very primitive,
isn't it?" Kirk asked, half thinking aloud.
"It is so considered," Ross answered.
The reply struck Kirk as odd. A sudden hope filled him. Maybe something
new had been discovered about the place, possibly something that only
Ross and a few of the top command knew about. He threw a sharp glance
at Ross's face, but it told him nothing. "I don't remember too much
about the place from class," he ventured.
Ross rose, and with his incongruously quick, lazy grace strode to the
filing cabinet along the wall, pulling out documents and pamphlets.
He plumped them in a pile in front of Kirk. "Most of the factual
information we have is in these. You can try the library, too, but I
doubt if you'll find anything more." He added a book to the pile. "This
covers their language. You'll have two months of intensive instruction
in it before you go. You were always good in your language structure
courses, so I doubt that you'll have any trouble with it. You'll have
another two weeks to learn the stuff in these documents, and two more
weeks to rest or do whatever you like before you leave." He resumed
his chair. "You're luckier than some of the others. The boy who got
Proserpine will have a stack of books up to there to absorb." He
gestured toward the ceiling.
At the mention of Proserpine, Kirk's brown eyes darkened. Proserpine
had been recently discovered, too, but that was all it had in common
with Nemar. Its inhospitable surface held vast amounts of a highly
valuable fuel ore, and it had been one of the places on his list. He
wondered who was going there, his insides suddenly twisting with envy.
He tried to keep his voice even. "I don't understand why I'm being
sent to Nemar." He searched for words. After all, he couldn't exactly
mention his graduating first and his record. "Is there something I
don't know about? Has something valuable been discovered that hasn't
been publicized, or--" He waited hopefully.
Ross's answer was flat. "No, there's nothing there that can be
transported that's worth transporting."
Kirk felt despair surging through him, then suddenly changing to sharp
anger. "I've worked hard. I have a good record. Why are you giving me
this--this lemon? Why don't you give it to whoever graduated lowest,
or better still to some older PA who bungled things somewhere, but not
quite enough to be retired!" His face was burning with rage. Somewhere
inside he felt shocked at himself for speaking to a Coordinator this
way; at the same time he felt a violent urge to carry it farther and
sock Ross in the nose. His body was shaking....
Remembering the scene now as he watched Nemar swing closer, Kirk felt
the anger again, time hadn't dimmed it at all. Ross must have perceived
his fury, but he had shown no signs of it. Looking as friendly as ever,
he had told him mildly that he did not consider Nemar a "lemon", that
he had excellent reasons for sending him there, but he preferred not
to tell him what they were. He wanted him to discover them for himself
after he arrived. The rest of the interview had concerned itself mainly
with practical information, most of which Kirk had scarcely heard
through his fog of emotion.
His endless speculations since then had gotten him nowhere. He had
dredged out of his memory every incident that might reveal some trait
for which he was being discreetly given a back seat. He recalled a
roommate who had said he was going to become a living machine if he
kept it up, and no machine had the right to have jurisdiction over
people. But Jere had flunked out along the way, like most candidates
who had an attitude like that. He went over the time he had been
called to Ross's office and gently rebuked for working men under him
on a project too hard. "I don't ask anything from them I don't ask of
myself," he had protested.
"I know," Ross had answered, "and I respect that. But _you_ work that
hard from choice." Then he had nodded in dismissal.
Kirk had puzzled over these and other incidents, searching for a clue,
but found nothing. All his probing in a more optimistic direction led
to blind alleys also. The documents on Nemar, all the information he
could dig up, confirmed Ross's statement that the planet held nothing
of commercial value.
The planet, to judge by what he had read, was a pleasant place,
apparently very pretty, with heavy vegetation and a warm, temperate
climate, and the natives were hospitable and friendly. But all this
held very little comfort for him and did little to assuage the sense
of angry humiliation that had made him seek isolation from the other
passengers.
He could see the planet more clearly now as the ship began to angle
into an orbit, preparatory to sending out the smaller landing ship
which would take him down. Hastily he reviewed in his mind once more
the few facts he knew about the place, and shaped his tongue to the
unfamiliar sounds of the native language. He fought down the feeling
of humiliation, and straightened his shoulders. After all, to these
people, he would be the most important person on the planet. If he was
to be a big frog in a small puddle, he was still supreme administrator
here, and he had no intention of letting them know his arrival
signified a disgrace to him.
* * * * *
From the airlock of the landing ship, Kirk looked out on a cleared
plain. In the foreground a group of natives were gathered to greet him,
and a scattering of dark uniforms among them indicated the officials
who would make up the Terran part of his staff. As the natives
approached him, he noted the green-gold hair and the slightly greenish
tinge to their skin, for which his studies had prepared him.
Nothing in his studies, however, had prepared him for the extraordinary
grace and beauty of these people.
They were dressed, men and women alike, in a simple fold of
bright-colored cloth circling their body from the waist and reaching
a third of the way to their knees. Kirk noted, with a slight sense
of shock, that the women wore nothing above the waist except for a
strand of woven reeds, interlaced with shells and flowers, which fell
loosely to their breasts. In these brief and primitive garments, the
natives bore themselves with such imperious grace and assurance that
for a moment Kirk felt as if his role had been abruptly reversed--as if
instead of being the powerful representative of a great civilization
to a backward people, he were the humble primitive waiting for their
acceptance.
One of the older natives stepped forward from the rest, his palm
outstretched, shoulder high, in greeting. "Welcome to Nemar," he said,
his glance steady and gracious on Kirk's face.
Kirk recognized the words of the native language with surprise. The
clear, musical quality of the native's speech made his own words, harsh
and grating by comparison, sound like a different language, as he
replied. "Thank you. I am very happy to be here."
As he spoke, he realized that the lie had for a moment felt almost like
truth. For a moment he wondered if the planet's apparent primitiveness
was deceptive and if its simplicity concealed a highly developed
culture. But even as the hope surged through him, he remembered Ross's
clear and definite statement to the contrary. Besides, there would
be no point in keeping a thing like that secret from the rest of the
galaxy, even if it could be done. Such a culture, moreover, would
certainly have things of value to trade.
As these thoughts coursed through his mind, one of the Terrans stepped
forward from the crowd. The insignia on his uniform were the same as
his own, and he realized, with a surge of curiosity, that this must be
his predecessor.
The man reached forward to shake his hand. "Hello. The name's Jerwyn."
His tanned face was open and friendly, and reminded Kirk curiously of
someone; he couldn't remember who. "Glad to see you."
I'll bet you are, Kirk thought: your gain, my loss. "Greetings from
Terra," he replied, somewhat stiffly. "Cyril Kirk." He tried to keep
his vague disapproval of Jerwyn's breezy informality out of his voice.
It was hard to realize this man was also a Planetary Administrator.
He seemed to have lost completely the look of authority that was the
lifelong mark of the PA graduate.
* * * * *
After the various introductions and a short period of conversation,
Kirk found himself seated beside Jerwyn in the small ground vehicle
which was to take him to his headquarters. Jerwyn immediately resumed
the standard Galactic-Terran language, which he had dropped during the
introductions. "As soon as I show you around a bit, I'll be off on the
landing ship you came in. I wonder how Terra will seem after all this
time."
"Five years is a long time," Kirk ventured.
"Ten."
Kirk stared at him in astonishment. "You took the optional five years!
Why in heaven would anyone--" He broke off suddenly. The question might
be one Jerwyn would not care to answer. He threw him a speculative
glance, wondering why he had been sent here and whether he, too, was
bitter. Maybe a poor record, or something in his past he didn't care to
go back to...? That didn't fit in his own case--but then there was no
knowing what did fit in his own case. Jerwyn had an alert, perceptive
look that indicated considerable intelligence, but still he somehow
looked inadequate. Some quality an Administrator should have was
lacking ... dignity? drive?