Galactic Medal of Honor

He knelt and fished from under the other's left arm a vicious looking short-barreled laser pistol. He tucked it under his own jacket into his belt, then turned and opened the door and entered the supposedly barred office.

Demming and Rostoff looked up from their work across a double desk.

The subservient Dirck Bosch was, as usual, on his feet and in the background a bit. Somewhat to Don's surprise, Alicia was also present, seated to one side, rather idly going through an old-fashioned hardcover book.

She said, "Why, Don. Where have you been this last week or so?"

"Learning the facts of life," he told her.

Demming leaned back in his swivel chair and said, "You're sober for a change."

Don Mathers pulled up a stenographer's chair and straddled it, leaning his arms on the back. He said coldly, "Comes a point when even the lowest worm turns. I've been checking out a few things."

Demming grunted amusement.

Don said, "Space patrols have been cut far back, although the people haven't been informed of the fact."

Rostoff snorted. "Is that supposed to interest us? That's the problem of the military and the government."

"Oh, it interests us, all right," Don growled. "Currently, the corporation controls probably five-sixths of the system's uranium."

Demming said in greasy satisfaction, "More Like seven-eights and increasing by the week."

"Why, then?" Don said bluntly. "Why are you doing what you're doing?"

They both scowled but another element was present in their expressions too. They thought the question unintelligent. Alicia put down her book and frowned puzzlement.

Demming closed his eyes and said in his porcine manner, "Tell him, Max."

Rostoff said, "Look, Mathers, don't be stupid. Remember when we told you, during that first interview, that we wanted your name in the corporation, among other reasons, because we could use a man who was above the law? That a maze of ridiculous binding ordinances have been laid on business through the centuries?"

"I remember," Don said bitterly.

"Well, it goes both ways. Government today is also bound, very strongly, and even in great emergency, not to interfere in business. These complicated laws balance each other, you might say. Our whole legal system is based on them. Right now, we've got government right where we want it. This is free enterprise, Mathers, at its pinnacle. Did you ever read about Jim Fisk and his attempt to corner gold in 1869, the so-called Black Friday affair? Well, Jim Fisk was a peanut peddler compared to us."

"What's this got to do with the Space Fleet having insufficient fuel to…"

Don Mathers stopped as comprehension came to him. "You're holding our radioactives off the market, pressuring the government for a price rise which it can't afford."

Demming opened his eyes and said fatly, "For triple the old price, Mathers. Before we're through, we'll corner half the wealth in the system."

Don looked at him in disgust. "And supposedly we're fighting a war.

But that isn't all I've hit on gentlemen. I've also come to the conclusion that it's you two who are sabotaging the nuclear fusion project. How many times has nuclear fusion been discovered in the past couple of decades?"

Rostoff smiled wolfishly. "Three times."

"And all three times you suppressed it?"

"That's right. You wouldn't expect us to destroy our markets for uranium, would you, Mathers? Nuclear fusion would make power practically free."

Don was shaking his head. "But even that isn't all. The fact of the matter is, there is no war."

Alicia said, her frown deeper, "What are you saying?"

He didn't bother to look at her. "There is no war, because there are no Kradens, and haven't been since fifty years ago. They appeared for a very short period, discovered that we were hostile, and disappeared, never to return. Well, I'm blowing the whistle, gentlemen."

Alicia was beautiful but far from dumb. She said, "Don! Don't be ridiculous. If you do anything foolish, it will mean the collapse of father's empire. Why, we could become penniless overnight! There wouldn't be anything left for me to inherit."

He didn't answer her.

Lawrence Demming said, "Leave the room, Alicia. We'll handle this madman."

She got up, gave Don one last pitying look, and followed her father's instructions.

When she was gone, Demming said, "Take him, Dirck."

But the Belgian shook his head. "No," he said. "This worm, too, has turned, Demming. I don't care what happens to me, or my family, stopping you is the only important thing. Over the years, I've learned a great deal of the business of the Demming and Rostoff corporations. I have no particular desire to live. But I'll continue to do so, at least until I've helped Don with my testimony."

Surprisingly fast for such a fat man, Lawrence Demming's hand flitted into a desk drawer to emerge with a twin of the laser pistol tucked into Don's belt.

Don Mathers grinned at him calmly, even as he pushed his jacket back to reveal the butt of his own weapon. He made no attempt to draw it however.