Adaptation Part 11

Mayer hesitated. "No," he said. "We'll keep Nick informed but he ought to remain where he is. We'll still want our men in the basic positions of power after we've won."

"He might get hurt," Gunther scowled. "They might get him too, and we've only got six team members left now."

"Nonsense, Nick Rykov can take care of himself."

Jerry Kennedy was upset. "Are you sure about this war, chief? Isn't a conflict of this size apt to hold up our overall plans?"

"Of course not," Mayer scoffed. "Man makes his greatest progress under pressure. A major war will unite the nations of both the western continent and this one as nothing else could. Both will push their development to the utmost."

He added thoughtfully, "Which reminds me. It might be a good idea for us to begin acc.u.mulating interests in such industries as will be effected by a war economy."

Jerry Kennedy chuckled at him, "Merchant of death."

"What?"

"Nothing," Kennedy said. "Something I read about in a history book."

VIII.

At the decade's end, once again the representatives of the Genoese team were first in the _Pedagogue's_ lounge. Mayer sat at the officer's table, Martin Gunther at his right. Jerry Kennedy leaned against the s.h.i.+p's bar, sipping appreciatively at a highball.

They could hear the impact of the s.p.a.ce boat from Texcoco when it slid into its bed.

"Poor piloting," Gunther mused. "Whoever's doing that flying doesn't get enough practice."

They could hear ports opening and then the sound of approaching feet.

The footsteps had a strangely military ring.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Joe Chessman entered, followed immediately by Barry Watson, d.i.c.k Hawkins and Natt Roberts. They were all dressed in heavy uniform, complete with decorations. Behind them were four Texcocans, including Reif and his teen-age son Taller.

Mayer scowled at them in way of greeting. "Where's Plekhanov?"

"Leonid Plekhanov is no longer with us," Chessman said dourly. "Under pressure his mind evidently snapped and he made decisions that would have meant the collapse of the expedition. He resisted when we reasoned with him."

The four members of the Genoese team stared without speaking. Jerry Kennedy put down his gla.s.s at last. "You mean you had to restrict him?

Why didn't you bring him back to the s.h.i.+p!"

Chessman took a chair at the table. The others a.s.sumed standing positions behind him. "I'm afraid we'll have to reject your views on the subject. Twenty years ago this expedition split into two groups. My team will accomplish its tasks, your opinions are not needed."

Amschel Mayer glared at the others in hostility. "You have certainly come in force this time."

Chessman said flatly, "This is all of us, Mayer."

"All of you! Where are Stevens, Cogswell, MacBride?"

Barry Watson said, "Plekhanov's fault. Lost in the battle that broke the back of the rebels. At least Cogswell and MacBride were. Stevens made the mistake of backing Plekhanov when the showdown came."

Joe Chessman looked sourly at his military chief. "I'll act as team spokesman, Barry."

"Yes, sir," Watson said.

"Broke the back of the rebels," Jerry Kennedy mused. "That opens all sorts of avenues, doesn't it?"

Chessman growled. "I suppose that in the past twenty years your team had no obstacles. Not a drop of blood shed. Come on, the truth. How many of your team has been lost?"

Mayer s.h.i.+fted in his chair. "Possibly your point is well taken. Dean and Rosetti were burned by the formerly dominant religious group. Rykov was killed in a fracas with bandits while he was transporting some gold." He added, musingly, "We lost more than half a million Genoese pounds in that robbery."

"Only three men lost, eh?"

Mayer stirred uncomfortably, then flushed in irritation at the other's tone. "Something has happened to Buchwald and MacDonald. They must be insane. They've broken off contact with me, are ama.s.sing personal fortunes in the eastern hemisphere."

Hawkins laughed abruptly. "Free compet.i.tion," he said.

Chessman growled, "Let's halt this bickering and get to business. First let me introduce Reif, Texcocan State Army Chief of Staff and his son Taller. And these other Texcocans are Wiss and Fokin, both of whom have gone far in the sciences."

The Tulans shook hands, Earth style, but then stepped to the rear again where they followed the conversation without comment.

Mayer said, "You think it wise to introduce natives to the _Pedagogue_?"

"Of course," Chessman said. "Following this conference, I'm going to take Fokin and Wiss into the library. What're we here for if not to bring these people up to our level as rapidly as possible?"

"Very well," Mayer conceded grudgingly. "And now I have a complaint.

When the _Pedagogue_ first arrived we had only so many weapons aboard.

You have appropriated more than half in the past two decades."

Chessman shrugged it off. "We'll return the greater part to the s.h.i.+p's a.r.s.enal. At this stage we are producing our own."

"I'll bet," Kennedy said. "Look, any of you fellows want a real Earthside whisky? When we were crewing this expedition, why didn't we bring someone with a knowledge of distilling, brewing and such?"

Mayer snapped at him, "Jerry, you drink too much."

"The h.e.l.l I do," the other said cheerfully. "Not near enough."

Barry Watson said easily, "A drink wouldn't hurt. Why're we so stiff?

This is the first get-together for ten years. Jerry, you're putting on weight."

Kennedy looked down at his admittedly rounded stomach. "Don't get enough exercise," he said, then reversed the attack. "You look older. Are your taking your rejuvenation treatments?"

Barry Watson grimaced. "Sure, but I'm working under pressure. It's been one long campaign."

Kennedy pa.s.sed around the drinks.