[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
roast!"
Onweetok stopped speaking and stood, thumbs in his belt, staring down at
Cully.
"Such as?" Cully asked.
"Graft, Cully," said Onweetok. "Graft, pure and simple. This Frontier of ours
is growing like a cake in the oven there are licenses and laws going through
the Assembly every day worth millions to men in the right spot. The
Brush-knife Boys are the voting machine to get those men the legislation they
want from the Assembly. And Machin's the man who makes the machine go."
Cully frowned.
"What about the other good men that were in the Assembly?" he asked. "What
about Wade Libervoy ?"
"Dead, Cully," said Onweetok, rocking on the balls of his feet. "Split near
half down the middle in a brush-knife duel with Machin. Same with Welker
Johnson. You begin to see how the pattern works, Cully? The Brush-knife Boys
do the voting, and Machin not only cracks the whip but trims down the
opposition."
"What about the old bunch?" asked Cully. "Machin can't have killed them all
off. What about Art Millums?"
"Retired, too old for politics, he says."
"Emile Hasec, then? Or Bill Royce?"
"Royce?" Onweetok laughed. "Cully, Royce is up to his ears in building banks
on these nine Frontier Worlds of ours. Royce is Brian Machin's best customer.
Hasec Emile's married again, back with a young wife, on his earth with the
other upland farmers, and not about to come to town. Why name me names? Don't
you think those of us who're left with a sense of what's right haven't thought
of getting together again the old guard that led us during the Revolt? They're
all gone like you were gone."
"I see," said Cully thoughtfully. "It looks like I'm on my own, then."
"On your own? You've got me, and one or two others in the Assembly!" cried
Onweetok. "But that's not going to help. We're too few, I tell you. My advice
to you is, clear out again and leave Machin be, unless you want to end up with
your own skull split by a brush knife. The Brush Boys all wear them, you know.
It's their party badge."
Cully frowned.
"You mean there's no civil protection left in Kalestin City?"
"Protection! Why, sure there is!" said Onweetok. "There's no street murder
tolerated here. But what I'm saying is, Machin'll challenge you just like he
challenged Wade and Welker, if it looks like you're going to rock the boat.
And it's only a plain damn fool who gets into a brush-knife duel with a man to
whom one of those tools is no more weight in his big hand than a butter knife
in yours or mine. He'll wear you down and then chop you up, Cully he's done it
often enough to good men before this. Have you ever seen him?"
"No, only heard of him," said Cully.
"Well, when you see him you'll understand," said Onweetok. He took a deep
breath and straightened up. "Now tell me you'll listen to reason and not ask
me to take you up on this."
Cully shook his head. "I'm going to need an Assembly behind me I can trust,"
he said. "But don't worry. There's more than one way to skin a cat. There must
Page 35
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
be more than one way to deal with a Brian Machin." He smiled cheerfully at
Onweetok. "I'll expect you to take me in to the Assembly and get me a chance
to speak at this afternoon's meeting."
Onweetok tossed the tanned palms of his hands ceiling-ward.
"It's your own stake-out, Cully lad!" he said.
The gathering in the hotel room broke up. Cully left to meet Alia and drive
her to the Spaceport, where she would be leaving for Earth this noon on a
sister ship to the North Star. The North Star, herself, stood on a refitting
field to the west of the Spaceport. She was now newly registered under,
Kalestin registry in Cully's name.
Alia, kidnapped to Kalestin with literally nothing more than the clothes in
which she stood, had been forced to accept financial assistance from
Cully who, even without his ownership of the newly spacelífted North Star, had
considerable credit locally. Alia had accepted this charity, but silently; and
she was silent now on their drive to the Spaceport.
Cully made no attempt to force conversation on her. He was a firm believer in
the notion that if minds were ever changed, they were changed from within by
their owners, and not from without by argument. So it was that he and Alia
walked to the very foot of the spaceliner's boarding gangplank before anything
was said between them.
But, at the gangplank's foot, Alia turned to face Cully.
"There's something I want you to know," she said. Her face was tight, and
pale. "I didn't know I'd no idea they'd be putting you in that Detention
Center, in a place like that. But I couldn't believe it when I went looking
for records of you, and the records said you were dead. Dead maybe; but not by
suicide, the way the records said. I couldn't believe that. That's why I
suggested Dad lend the Moldaug Ambassadors our flyer, when he wanted to prove
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]