diff options
Diffstat (limited to '59703-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 59703-0.txt | 660 |
1 files changed, 660 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/59703-0.txt b/59703-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9826d1a --- /dev/null +++ b/59703-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,660 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 59703 *** + + + + + + + + + + + + + Nor Dust Corrupt + + BY JAMES MC CONNELL + + _Burial on Earth was the dream of every + person in the galaxy. And Krieg was certainly + rich enough to buy his way in. Valhalla + was his. But he changed his mind...._ + + [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from + Worlds of If Science Fiction, February 1957. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that + the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] + + +The room seemed more a mausoleum than an office, but that was as had +been intended. Perhaps thirty feet high, fifty feet wide, it stretched +a good hundred feet in length. It was paneled entirely in jet black +onyx, which gave a sense of infinity to it. The floor was a thick lawn +of heavy black pile carpeting. Only two areas of the room offered +mitigation to this oppressive gloom. Just past the middle, bathed in a +haze of light, was placed a large black desk, and behind it sat a man. +At the far end of the room, slightly elevated, was an alabaster statue, +an abstraction of incredible beauty and poignancy. The statue too was +wrapped in a soft nimbus. Few visitors to this room ever had to be told +the title of this work of art, for its meaning was apparent in its +every line--_Bereavement_. + +The man behind the big black desk belonged to the room as much as did +the onyx walls, the thick carpet or the alabaster statue. Without the +presence of this man the chamber seemed strangely empty, strangely +morbid, and few of the man's associates cared to remain in the room +when he was not there. Somehow the warm air of benevolence to be +found in his fair, pinkish face softened the harsh somberness of the +appointments, while the gentle strength in his dark and mournful eyes +gave amelioration to the atmosphere of despair. His job was to be a +Janus, looking from the cheery rubric of today towards the unknown but +dimmer colors of tomorrow--to be a bridge between present pleasures and +future fears. There was no better man for the task in all the Galaxy +than Consolator Steen. + +At the moment Consolator Steen sat waiting, thinking, planning. Soon +through the huge doors facing him would come a man, one Joseph Krieg by +name, who sought Steen's assistance. The fact that Krieg was one of the +richest men in all the known universe made the impending interview a +most important one, for Consolator Steen's assistance depended entirely +upon the price that could be paid. + +Steen's fingers flicked over the set of hidden controls on his desk. +Everything was in readiness. "And another innocent fish gets hooked," +he muttered to himself. He sighed once, shortly, then touched an +invisible button. "I will see Joseph Krieg now." In the outer office +Steen's aide-de-camp, Assistant Consolator Braun, sprang to an attitude +of proper deference as the huge bronze doors swung open. Braun bowed +slightly as Joseph Krieg strode past him and into the onyx chamber. + + * * * * * + +Steen's eyes narrowed in admiration as he examined the man walking +towards him. Joseph Krieg was a huge person, just past middle age but +still retaining the hardened appearance of late youth. His face had +a chiseled squareness to it, and his manner indicated not so much +wealth as it did an obvious determination to succeed. This would be an +interesting fish to play with indeed, Steen thought. + +About half-way to the desk Krieg stumbled slightly, but recovered +his pace with the cumbersome grace of some massive animal. A smile +flickered briefly over Steen's face. The thickness of the carpet had +more purposes than one. When Krieg was almost upon him, Steen stood up. + +Krieg stopped in front of the desk, facing Steen, as if waiting for +some signal. Steen, who knew the value of silence, remained absolutely +still. After a few seconds, obviously perplexed, Krieg smiled +nervously. "Consolator Steen?" + +"Welcome to Earth, Joseph Krieg. Welcome to the Heart of the Galaxy." +Steen's voice was rich, mellifluous, and the words fell from his mouth +like benedictions. He extended a hand. "Won't you please be seated?" + +The chair received Krieg's body as if it were the most precious burden +it had ever held. Its soft contours almost demanded that he relax, +yield the tenseness of his muscles to its smooth and welcoming shape. +Its surface closed around him as if it were a second skin, then began +to tingle in gentle caress. Joseph Krieg had never felt so comforted in +his life. + +Consolator Steen seated himself behind his desk, then waited until +his assistant, Braun, had taken a chair some feet away. He smiled +paternally. "May I ask you one favor? Would it seem presumptuous if +I called you Joseph? Perhaps you would feel it an impertinence on my +part, but...." Consolator Steen gestured slightly with both his hands, +as if to implore forgiveness. + +Joseph Krieg smiled, nodded his head. "Of course I won't mind if you +use my first name. It would be an honor, Sir." The smile continued on +his face, but his eyes narrowed as if he were attempting to puzzle out +the figure behind the desk. + +"You will excuse me too if I say that you've come too soon, Joseph," +the Consolator said. + +"Too soon?" Krieg replied quizzically. "I don't think I...." + +Steen smiled warmly. "I only mean that you look still so young, so +strong and vibrant with life. And yet, perhaps you are the wiser to +come now, still in the vigor of living. It shows an honesty with +yourself, an ability to face the facts, which is much to be admired." + +"Thank you, Sir," Krieg replied. He continued to stare at the +Consolator. + +Steen knew full well the turmoil that was stirring within the man. The +entire interview had been psychologically planned to evoke dark and +dormant emotions which, when released, would destroy Krieg's normal +ability to judge situations impassively. Proof that things were going +as intended came from Krieg's continual use of the word "Sir." Krieg's +commercial empires spanned the Universe; from perfume to starships, +from food to fertilizers, he was king. And yet he would never +understand that it was Steen's quiet paternal power, the fact that he +wore wise sorrow wrapped around him the way some men wear a cloak, that +called forth this unfamiliar reverence. The psychological survey done +on Krieg had cost the Consolator a small fortune, and he didn't intend +to waste it. + +"You must realize, Joseph, that the things which you have come to +discuss are matters of the deepest concern for all of us here on +Earth." Steen gesticulated towards Braun as if Braun represented +somehow all the other billions on Earth. "The problem is one that +touches deep within all of us, and we are anxious to be of whatever +service possible. But more than anything else, we want you to know +that we _understand_." + +"Thank you, Sir," Krieg repeated. He frowned for a moment, then seemed +to smile. "But if you don't mind, maybe we could begin our discussion +of terms." + +Steen raised one eyebrow slightly. The man showed a remarkable lack of +sentimentality. Corrections would have to be made in the approach.... + +"Of course. I am delighted to get on with things. And I must say, I +find your attitude extraordinarily sane. The problem is, really, a +simple one best met head on. You are here because you know that as it +come to all men, death must come to you too. And you feel the necessity +to make certain that when your time comes, you will be brought to +Earth to your final rest. You are a son of Earth. This is your great +ancestral home." + +Krieg started slightly, then relaxed almost in reverie. Steen smiled +inwardly at the power of words, repeated, to invoke long forgotten +memories. For Steen knew that when Krieg had been no more than a +toddling child, learning to read, learning to respond to affection, +his simple-syllabled books had spoken in reverent tones of "The Great +Ancestral Home." In later years, all of Krieg's studies had had hidden +at their core an emotional dependence upon Earth. No place was finer, +more beautiful, more important. No, not all the rest of the stars put +together. He had been told it a million times until it had become an +inseparable part of his very personality, just so the words would have +the desired effect at this moment. _The Great Ancestral Home._ + +"You are so fortunate, my son," the Consolator continued. "So very few +of Earth's teeming children will ever have the opportunity that lies +within your grasp. You must make the most of it." + +As Steen watched, Krieg seemed to shake some of the feeling of awe from +him. "I intend to make the most of it, Sir," he said, offering Steen +his most charming smile. "It just depends on how hard a bargain you +want to drive." + +Consolator Steen gave Krieg a look of mild reproach. "There is no +'bargaining' to be done, Joseph. The monetary considerations are set +by law, and we have no choice in the matter. All that we can do is to +explain the services which we are prepared to extend to you, and then +help you as best we can to arrive at the most suitable decision. Our +position is simply that of catering to your individual wants as best we +can." + +"My wants are simple," Krieg replied, and it seemed to Steen that far +too much of the man's usual forcefulness was returning to his voice. "I +wish to be buried on Earth when I die, and I want you to arrange this +for me." + +"Of course, of course, my son," Steen said, letting just a glint of +steel appear in his eyes. "But what do we mean by burial? We have such +different problems here on Earth than you do elsewhere in the Galaxy. +You must understand that. We are forced to such strange solutions to +these problems. But perhaps if I merely show you the various types of +burial which we undertake, then you will understand." Steen laughed to +himself. The fish appeared fat and hungry, and now it was time to drop +in the bait. + + * * * * * + +The Consolator touched a hidden switch atop his desk and one of the +black onyx walls rippled and seemed to dissolve in mist. A replica of +Earth swam through the haze and into view. "Earth. Such an incredibly +small planet, Joseph. But the heart of the Galaxy none the less." +The replica seemed to swell in size and geographical details became +apparent. "Earth. Once a world of gentle, rolling plains, winding +rivers, thick forests, wide oceans and soaring mountains. Just like any +other habitable planet. And now look at it. One solid mass of buildings +and machines, Joseph. We've drained the oceans and filled in their beds +with metal. We've destroyed the forests and the rolling plains and +planted the land for miles above and below with throbbing inorganic +monsters. We've hollowed out the very mountains to make more space. +Space for nine hundred billion people, Joseph. And still we are cramped +almost beyond belief. We need to expand a hundredfold. But we cannot. +There simply is no room left. + +"No room for the living, Joseph, and this means no more room for the +dead, either. Here, let me show you." The scene changed, showing first +a huge building, and then, the bottom floor of the edifice. "This is +one of our larger buildings, Joseph. It is more than fifty miles long +and one hundred miles wide. The bottom floor alone is more than one +quarter mile high. This huge space is completely filled with cubes two +inches square. Each cube holds the ashes of one human being who wished +to find his final resting place on Earth." + +Consolator Steen made a motion of resignation. "Notice that I said 'on +Earth,' Joseph, and not 'in Earth.' This is our 'pauper's field,' the +burial ground of those devoted souls who could not afford to be buried +_in_ the Earth itself." + +Joseph Krieg frowned. "But surely underneath the building...." + +"Underneath the bottom floor of that building are the bodies of many +millions more, Joseph, just as there are bodies under all of our +buildings. Bodies of those wealthy few who could afford to escape +cremation and find surcease of life in the loamy substance of the Earth +itself. I shudder to tell you how tightly packed they are, of the +skin-tight coffins which we had to devise, of the geometrical tricks +involved in jamming as many bodies as possible in the least amount of +space. And yet, it _is_ burial, and it is _in_ the Earth itself. No +granite monuments, of course, no vases of flowers, no green grass. Just +a perpetual flame burning in the main lobby of the building, and a +micro-film file available somewhere listing the vital statistics of all +those souls whose remains lie in the basement--or below." + +Krieg's face was furrowed with a heavy frown. Steen's words had been +as shocking to the man as Steen had hoped they would be. "But the +Parks...." + +"Ah, yes, Joseph. The Parks...." Consolator Steen leaned forward +slightly. The fish was sniffing at the bait quite properly now. "Our +Parks, which are the one remaining link with the past. Those green and +grassy meadows in the midst of our metallic forests. The last places +on Earth where you can be buried out in the open, with flowers over +your head and birds singing above. You want to be buried in one of the +Parks, don't you Joseph?" When the man nodded briefly, Steen continued. +"Which Park, Joseph?" + +"Manhattan...." + +Steen drew himself up with a sudden, silent movement. The fish had +taken a good look at the bait. Now to remove it from sight for a while. +Steen closed his eyes briefly, then raised a hand as if to brush away +a sudden tear. "I'm sorry, Joe. Very sorry indeed. I was afraid that +was what you wanted, and yet, there was always...." He blinked his +eyes. "Manhattan Park is impossible, Joe. Confucius Park in Hong Kong, +perhaps. I think there are still same plots available in Frogner Park +in Oslo. I'm certain that we could get you into Amundsen Park at the +South Pole. But Manhattan.... No, Joe. That's one dream I'm afraid +you'll just have to give up." + +"Why?" Joseph Krieg asked quietly but determinedly. + +"Have you ever seen it, Joe? I thought not. It's perhaps the most +beautiful part of this most beautiful planet in the Galaxy. Would you +like to see Manhattan?" + +_Manhattan._ Steen was quite aware that to Joseph Krieg this was a +word of a hundred thousand associations, each of them connected with +love, security, devotion and repose. It was like asking a starving man +if he would care for something to eat. + +Steen did not even wait for a reply. "I think it could be managed, as a +special favor. Permission to enter Manhattan Park is difficult to get, +you know, but I think this once...." Steen turned to Braun. "Put a call +through to the President's office...." + + * * * * * + +Atop grassy knolls, supple willows trailed languid branches to the +ground. Silver-throated birds sang secret melodies while bees hummed +a scarcely audible background. Narrow graveled paths wound through +this gentle landscape, now hugging the edge of a tinkling stream, now +plunging through carpets of gorgeous flowers. The three men sat silent +on a rough stone bench observing the pastoral scene. + +Finally Consolator Steen spoke softly. "I understand how you feel, +Joe. The first time any of us sees it, we are afflicted with silence. +Its beauty is almost painful, the memories it invokes almost beyond +bearing. Lincoln is buried there, just beyond that hillock; Landowski +not far from him. Shakespeare's grave is there to the right, and close +by is the body of Sharon, the poet of the Galaxy. Einstein's final +resting place is a mile or so away, and near to it you'll find Chi Wan, +who gave us Stardrive. Humanity's Valhalla, Joe." + +Joseph Krieg had not cried openly since childhood, and yet now there +were tears in his eyes. "This has always been my dream...." + +Consolator Steen placed a friendly arm around the man's shoulders. +"Yes, now you have seen it. Your dream has come true." He paused for +just a moment, then said, "And now, Joe, perhaps we had better go." + +Joseph Krieg turned towards the man with an abrupt motion. "Go? Why +should we go? We've been here scarcely ten minutes." + +"Because the longer you stay, the harder it will be for you to leave, +Joe. And the less attractive the other parks will seem to you. So, I'd +like for us to leave at once." His voice became businesslike. "First, +I'd like to show you Hong Kong, and then...." + +"I don't want to see Hong Kong, or any place else. This is where I want +to be buried, Steen. Whatever the price is, I'll pay." + +Consolator Steen sighed deeply. "I don't think you understand, Joe. +It isn't a matter of price. Manhattan is simply not available to you, +for the reason that it is not for sale. I know that you have heard +otherwise; I am sure that rumors have reached your ears that burial +in Manhattan could be effected for a mere trillion credits. But these +fantastic tales are incorrect--for two reasons. + +"The first reason, Joe, is a financial one. To the average man, a mere +million credits is such a gigantic, unobtainable sum that he is sure +anything in the Galaxy could be obtained for a trillion. This is not +so, as you and I both know. Why, a million credits will scarcely get +you a burial in a two-inch-square cube in the bottom floor of one of +our huge buildings. Remember? I called those huge bargain basements +'pauper's fields.' And that they are--available to those poor people +throughout the Universe who have only a few millions to their names. +Incredible, isn't it? + +"A trillion credits? Why, it takes a hundred billion to make you +eligible for burial _under_ one of the buildings, where you're packed +in like a sardine with millions of other bodies. And how many people +in the Galaxy can lay their hands on a hundred billion credits? The +answer, Joe, is too many people indeed. Some of them have so much more +money than that, they can actually afford to be buried in one of the +Parks. + +"A trillion credits? Yes, that will get you buried in Hong Kong Park, +or in Frogner, or Amundsen. But not for long. You can rent a temporary +grave in Hong Kong, for example, for a mere billion credits a day. At +that rate, for a trillion credits, you'd stay buried on Earth for less +than three years, and then your body would have to be moved elsewhere. +Very few people can afford to purchase a permanent plot in one of +these parks. But they are available--at a cost of something like one +quadrillion credits. And just how many men in the Galaxy _have_ a +quadrillion credits or so?" + +Consolator Steen knew the answer to this question exactly--he also knew +that Joseph Krieg was one of these men. Krieg could have afforded a +quadrillion credits, but it would have exhausted his fortune. Steen +waited until he was sure that the other man was deep in mental turmoil +and then he continued, his voice now softer, less commercial sounding. +"And having given you 'the prices,' so to speak, of the lesser +treasures, I will now surprise you by saying that the entry ticket to +Manhattan Park is free." + +Joseph Krieg looked at the man intently, a curious fire of hope in his +eyes. "Free?" + +Steen nodded. "And because it is free, it is unobtainable. It is not +generally known, Joe, but the only way one can be buried in Manhattan +Park is by permission of the Galactic Congress. Only certified heroes +are so honored, and they are few and far between. Remember the great +bacteriologist Manuel de Artega? It took the Galactic Congress more +than fifty years of debate after he died to decide to let him in--but +after all, the only claim to fame he had was that he saved a few +trillion lives from the Green Plague. He was buried here some thirteen +years ago. There has been no one since, and no one in sight." + +Steen patted the man on the shoulder. "Now, come along, Joe. I want you +to take a look at Amundsen Park before you make up your mind. It's not +at all cold at the Pole these days--lovely flowers, trees...." + +"No!" Joseph Krieg cried, standing up. Steen and Braun both rose too. +"There must be a way!" + +The Consolator smiled inwardly. _The fish was responding +magnificently. Now to push the bait just a little closer...._ + +"Now, now, Joe. You mustn't get upset about this. The other Parks are +just as fine, I assure you," Steen murmured in consolation. + +Krieg shook his head. "You can't tell me that sometime or other someone +didn't buy his way into Manhattan. It stands to reason...." + +"Now, Joe. You're taking this much too hard...." + +"I tell you, I know people. And that's all the Galactic Congress is +made up of--people. Tell me the truth, Steen. Has anyone ever bribed +his way into this Park?" + +Steen frowned and turned his head slightly away from the man. _Just a +flick or two more of the line...._ + + * * * * * + +"I wish you wouldn't ask me questions like that, Joe. When I say +that it's impossible, I mean just that. You'll just excite yourself +needlessly by listening to foolish rumors...." + +Krieg pounced on the word jubilantly. "What do you mean, rumors? Then +there _has_ been someone who bought his way in! Who was it, Steen? I +swear, if you don't tell me, I'll move heaven and earth to find out." + +Consolator Steen seemed to consider for a moment, then sighed. +_Hooked._ "All right, Joe. But believe me, you'll wish you hadn't +asked. For what happened to ... to this other person is unattainable to +you." + +"Who was it?" Krieg asked excitedly. + +"Who was the richest man who ever lived, Joe?" + +"You mean...." + +"Who was it that founded the University you went to, the hospital in +which you were born? Who gave a magnificent library to every city in +the known universe, who was it...." + +Krieg interrupted. "Old C. T. himself...." + +Steen nodded. "Yes, old C. T. Anderman himself. Years ago, Joe, he +faced the same problem you face now, and he reacted the same way you +have. So he set out on a campaign to get into Manhattan the only way +he knew how--with money. There was one difference, Joe. Where you are +fabulously wealthy, C. T. Anderman was wealthy beyond all dreams. Do +you know that he gave away more than one quintillion credits--_gave it +away!_ Just to make his name universally known. 'The Philanthropist of +the Galaxy,' they called him. One quintillion credits! No wonder they +voted him a hero's grave. But what the press and the public never knew +is that it cost him more than twice that much--for he had to spend +another one quintillion credits for bribes and influence. It took him +fifty years, Joe, to pack the Galactic Congress with enough of his men +to swing the trick. But he finally did it." + +There was a short silence, then Steen continued. "Now you see why I +didn't want to tell you, Joe--to raise false hopes. Only one man in +the Galaxy was ever wealthy enough to buy his way into Manhattan. And +he had to give up his entire fortune to do it. I'm afraid that you'll +never make the grade, Joe." + +Krieg stood stunned. Steen was aware that two quintillion credits was +beyond Krieg's wildest dreams, for Steen knew that Joseph Krieg had +come to Earth determined to purchase his burial lot and then retire +from the business world. + +Steen pulled lightly at Krieg's arm. "Now, come along, Joe. Let's go +take a look at Hong Kong." The three men started off down the path, but +before they had gone ten feet, a robot scurried out of the bushes and +dashed over to the bench they had been sitting on. It clucked softly +to itself, put forth several arms, and in a matter of seconds had +completely washed and disinfected the bench. + +Joseph Krieg, an empty and numb look on his face, stopped to watch the +process. He stared for a few seconds, then asked hoarsely, "What's +that?" + +Consolator Steen smiled. "One of the Guardians, Joe. Superb--and +completely incorruptible. Within minutes after we leave, every vestige +of our visit will be gone--each piece of gravel we tread on will be +scrubbed clean or replaced, each piece of grass we touch uprooted and +destroyed, even the very air we breathe will be sterilized to remove +our traces. We have our problem of vandals too, you know," Steen said, +a wisp of a smile playing about the corners of his mouth. "But these +are vandals who want to get in and leave something, not like those +of ancient times on Earth who broke into burial grounds to loot and +destroy. Yes, Joe, we found long ago that the only safe method was +to employ mechanical devices to guard against clandestine burials. So +even the gardeners who keep this Park in blossom are mechanical. See, +there's another one over there, hard at work." + +Joseph Krieg turned and saw to one side, by a large bed of red flowers, +another robot with dozens of visible appendages. It purred an almost +silent tune as it clipped and pruned, dug and spaded, trimmed and +cleaned the beds, occasionally sprinkling a rich fertilizer dust here +and there. + +"The Guardians of Valhalla, Joe. They were set into motion centuries +ago, and not even the President knows how to change their orders. They +can't be bribed, even if their human masters can be." + +Joseph Krieg stooped down beside the bed of flowers. He reached out and +picked up a handful of the fine dirt and let it slip pensively through +his fingers. "Dust unto dust," he said slowly. "Man was created from +the soil of Earth, and to dust he returneth." There was a long silence +as Steen let the emotion run its course. Then he touched Krieg lightly +on the arm and the man stood up again. They started off down the path, +ignoring the machine that skittered along behind them, cleansing each +bit of gravel they stepped upon. + +To Steen, this was always the most important part of the interview. +While the fish was masticating the bait, he had to prattle on to keep +the hook from becoming too visible. "Some day I must tell you of all +the ways people have tried to get themselves buried on Earth without +paying for the privilege, Joe. It makes a fascinating story. We're in a +difficult position here, you know, for we have to import every single +bit of food we eat, every machine we use, each piece of clothing that +we wear. But every single item that we import is carefully scanned to +make sure that no one has concealed so much as a single human hair +in the process." Steen watched Krieg's face closely as they walked. +The man should be going through hell just now, but not too much of it +showed on his face. Steen continued his prattle, a little puzzled. + +"Oh, it's incredible the ways that people have tried to cheat. Some of +the methods used are too ugly to relate, some of them humorous beyond +belief. But this is why we've resorted to mechanical guards all the way +round--to maintain our incorruptibility. Even Anderman with all of his +quintillions could not have bribed his way past our machines." Steen's +voice betrayed none of the anxiety that he felt. For Joseph Krieg was +almost smiling now, was apparently feeling none of the great confusion +that Steen had counted upon. + +They reached the gates. "Well, Joe. I think we'll head straight for +Hong Kong, if you don't mind. It will be early morning there by now, +and that's the best time...." + +Joseph Krieg turned to face the man. "Thank you very much, Consolator, +but I don't think that will be necessary. You see, I've changed my +mind." + +Steen repressed a frown. "Changed your mind?" he asked blandly. + +"Yes. After giving it due consideration, I think that it would be +foolish to squander all of my fortune on a burial on Earth. My family +would be cheated out of its inheritance if I did, and after all, if my +sons carry on in their father's tradition, that's enough for me." Krieg +extended his hand. "I wish to thank you, Steen, for your kindness. I +regret that I have troubled you for nothing." + +Steen shook the man's hand warmly, using his free hand to grasp Krieg's +arm in friendly fashion. "It was no trouble at all, I assure you. But +please understand, Joseph, if I can ever be of service to you in _any_ +way, if I can ever be of assistance in any manner whatsoever, please +do not hesitate to call upon me. After all, even Anderman had certain +problems which...." Steen smiled knowingly. + +Krieg returned the smile. "I think I understand. And I appreciate your +offer, although I must tell you that there is little likelihood that +I will be forced to take it up. Again my thanks. And now, good-bye." +Krieg turned and strode through the gates. + + * * * * * + +Consolator Steen and his assistant, Braun, stood watching the man as he +disappeared into the distance. Then Steen turned and walked over to one +of the benches in the Park near to the gates. He sat down wearily. + +"Braun," he said. "I don't like it. Not at all. He should have +been beside himself with worry, he should have pumped me for more +information, he should have done a thousand other things. But he +didn't. He just turned and left. I tell you, I don't like it at all." + +Braun frowned. "He seemed to take the bait, Sir." + +"And then, after sniffing it over carefully, he turned and spat it +right back in our faces. We can't afford mistakes like this, Braun. +Earth needs the money too badly. It's our only means of support, and we +can't let a fish like Krieg get off the hook." + +"There are other fish around, Sir." + +Steen's face took on an angry look. "Of course there are. But none +with the potentialities that Krieg showed. Don't you realize that ever +since that sad day when Earth realized that she was a has-been, she's +had to take advantage of every single opportunity offered her, just to +keep alive? Oh, they were clever, those ancient ones who realized that +if a civilization is to be kept together, it must have a myth. And so +they gave our civilization its myth--that of Earth, the Great Ancestral +Home. Just accidentally, it also offered Earth a means of retaining at +least a part of her power." + +Steen waved his hands in the air. "From an economic viewpoint it was +nice too. Only the very wealthy could afford an Earth burial, and so it +became a means of hidden, graduated taxation--Earth soaked the rich and +ignored the poor, and cut her overt taxes while doing so. Burial became +so costly that it helped break up the huge estates, it helped leaven +out the wealth. Our propaganda was sharpened to the point where we +could take a man like Anderman and drive him all of his life towards an +almost unattainable goal, force him to expend his tremendous energies +in the accumulation of great wealth, extending the frontiers of the +Galaxy as he did so, building up our civilization's strength in the +process, and then, in the end, make him turn all of his wealth over to +Earth in one form or another. Oh, I tell you, Braun, those ancient ones +were clever." + +The tirade halted. The air hung silent for a moment, and the twittering +of a nearby bird could be heard. + +"They were very, very clever. They gave us all the tools, and somehow +we've failed to use them correctly. What was it, Braun? What did we do, +or fail to do, that let Krieg get away from us?" + +Braun frowned. "I don't know, Sir. Perhaps he just changed his mind +about Earth." + +Steen snorted. "Impossible! He's had too many years' exposure to our +propaganda for that. He can no more give up his dream of burial in +Manhattan than he can give up his very personality. No, Braun, I think +we just underestimated the man. Somewhere along the line he had an +idea, he saw something that we failed to see." + +Braun shrugged his shoulders. "But what are we going to do about it?" + +Consolator Steen pursed his lips. "I tell you what I'm going to do +about it. I'm going straight back to the office and sit and think, and +think, and then think some more. Krieg's got a good fifty years ahead +of him yet, and that means I've got exactly that long to guess what's +on his mind. I'll get that quintillion credits if it's the last thing I +do." + + * * * * * + +They had no more than reached the gate when one of the mechanical +Guardians appeared from behind a bush, chortled to itself and scurried +over to the bench. It cleansed the rough-hewn stone, then washed the +path the two men had taken. Then, its exceptional chores accomplished, +it went back to its normal pursuits. + +It approached a bed of begonias nearby. One appendage extended itself +and began digging up the dirt around the plants. Meanwhile, inside the +machine, other appendages ripped open a small bag and spilled the fine +dust inside the bag into a small trough. The empty bag was rolled up +and stuck in a disposal bin along with several other bags, all with +identical markings: + + JOSEPH KRIEG AND SONS, + BY APPOINTMENT, + PURVEYORS OF FINE + FERTILIZERS + TO THE GALACTIC GOVERNMENT + ON EARTH + +The machine clucked quietly to itself as it sprinkled the dust evenly +over the black, yielding earth. It patted the fertilizer gently into +the rich soil, making sure that each plant got its fair share. Then it +scurried off silently to tend to a bed of calla lilies nearby. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Nor Dust Corrupt, by James McConnell + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 59703 *** |