The Mote in God's Eye

“It’s good enough,” Hardy said. “We have such poetry too. Stories of lost civilizations, disasters in our prehistory. We can trace most of them to a volcanic explosion about forty-five hundred years ago. As a matter of fact, that seems to be when men got the idea that God might intervene in their affairs. Directly, as opposed to creating cycles and seasons and such.”

“An interesting theory—but doesn’t it upset your religious beliefs?”

“No, why should it? Can’t God as easily arrange a natural event to produce a desirable effect as He could upset the laws of nature? In fact, which is the more miraculous, a tidal wave just when it is needed, or a supernatural once-only event? But I don’t think you have time to discuss theology with me. Senator Fowler seems to have finished his dinner. So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be away a few minutes, and I think we’ll get started again—”

Ben Fowler took Rod and Sally to a small office behind the conference room. “Well?” he demanded.

“I’m on record,” Sally said.

“Yeah. Rod?”

“We’ve got to do something, Senator. The pressure’s getting out of hand.”

“Yeah,” Ben said. “Damn it, I need a drink. Rod?”

“Thanks, I pass.”

“Well, if I can’t think straight with a good belt of Scotch in me the Empire’s already collapsed.” He fumbled through the desk until he found a bottle, sneered at the brand, and poured a stiff drink into a used coffee cup. “One thing puzzles me. Why isn’t the ITA making more trouble? I expected them to give us the most pressure, and they’re quiet. Thank God for what favors we have.” He tossed off half the cup and sighed.

“What harm does it do to agree now?” Sally asked. “We can change our minds if we find out anything new—”

“Like hell, kitten,” Ben said. “Once something specific is in the works, the sharp boys’ll think how to make a crown out of it, and after they’ve got money invested—I thought you learned more about elementary politics than that. What do they teach in the university nowadays? Rod, I’m still waiting for something out of you.”

Rod fingered his bent nose. “Ben, we can’t stall much longer. The Moties must know that—they may even cut their offer once they see just how much pressure we’re under. I say let’s do it.”

“You do, huh. You’ll make your wife happy anyway.”

“He’s not doing it for me!” Sally insisted. “You stop teasing him.”

“Yeah.” The Senator scratched his bald spot for a moment. Then he drained his cup and set it down. “Got to check one or two things. Probably be okay. If they are— I guess the Moties have a deal. Let’s go in.”

Jock gestured rapture and excitement. “They are ready to agree! We are saved!”

Ivan eyed the Mediator coldly. “You will restrain yourself. There is much to do yet.”

“I know. But we are saved. Charlie, is it not so?”

Charlie studied the humans. The faces, the postures— “Yes. But the Senator remains unconvinced, and Blaine is afraid, and—Jock, study Renner.”

“You are so cold! Can you not rejoice with me? We are saved!”

“Study Renner.”

“Yes… I know that look. He wears it playing poker, when his down card is an unexpected one. It does not help us. But he has no power, Charlie! A wanderer with no sense of reponsibility!”

“Perhaps. We juggle priceless eggs in variable gravity. I am afraid. I will taste fear until I die.”

55. Renner’s Hole Card

Senator Fowler sat heavily and looked around the table. The look was enough to still the chatter and get everyone’s attention. “I guess we know what we are all after,” he said. “Now comes haggling over the price. Let’s get the principles set, uh? First and foremost. You agree not to arm your colonies and to let us inspect ‘em to be sure they aren’t armed?”

“Yes,” Jock said positively. She twittered to the Master. “The Ambassador agrees. Provided that the Empire will, for a price, protect our colonies from your enemies.”

“We’ll certainly do that. Next. You agree to restrict trade to companies chartered by the Imperium?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s the main points,” Fowler announced. “We’re ready for the small stuff. Who’s first?”

“Can I ask what kind of colony they’ll set up?” said Renner.

“Eh? Sure.”

“Thank you. Will you be bringing representatives of all your classes?”