Chapter 4

Korell is that frequent phenomenon in history: the republic whose ruler hasevery attribute of the  absolute monarch but the name. It therefore enjoyedthe usual despotism unrestrained even by those two moderating influences inthe   legitimate   monarchies:   regal   "honor"   and   court   etiquette.
Materially,  its prosperity  was low.  The day  of the Galactic  Empire haddeparted,  with  nothing  but silent  memorials  and  broken structures  totestify to  it. The  day of the  Foundation had not  yet come ? and in thefierce determination of its  ruler, the Commdor Asper Argo, with his strictregulation of the traders and his stricter prohibition of the missionaries,it was never coming.
The spaceport itself was decrepit and decayed, and the crew of the Far Starwere drearily  aware of  that. The moldering  hangars made for  a molderingatmosphere  and Jaim  Twer  itched and  fretted over  a game  of solitaire.
Hober  Mallow  said  thoughtfully, "Good  trading  material  here." He  wasstaring quietly out the  viewport. So far, there was little else to be saidabout Korell. The trip here was uneventful. The squadron of Korellian shipsthat had shot  out to intercept the Far Star  had been tiny, limping relicsof  ancient glory  or  battered, clumsy  hulks. They  had  maintained theirdistance fearfully,  and still maintained it, and  for a week now, Mallow'srequests for an audience  with the local go government had been unanswered.
Mallow repeated, "Good trading here. You might call this virgin territory."Jaim Twer looked up impatiently, and threw his cards aside, "What the devildo  you  intend  doing,  Mallow? The  crew's  grumbling,  the officers  areworried, and I抦 wondering?
"Wondering? About what?""About the situation. And about you. What are we doing?""Waiting."The old  trader snorted and grew  red. He growled, "You're  going it blind,Mallow.  There's a  guard around  the field  and there are  ships overhead.
Suppose  they're getting  ready  to blow  us into  a  hole in  the ground.""They've had a week.""Maybe  they're waiting  for  reinforcements." Twer's  eyes were  sharp andhard.
Mallow sat  down abruptly,  "Yes, I'd thought  of that You see,  it poses apretty problem. First, we  got here without trouble. That may mean nothing,however,  for  only three  ships  out  of better  than  three hundred  wenta-glimmer last year. The percentage is low. But that may mean also that thenumber of  their ships equipped with nuclear power  is small, and that theydare   not    expose   them   needlessly,   until    that   number   grows.
"But  it could  mean, on the  other hand,  that they haven't  nuclear powerafter all. Or maybe  they have and are keeping undercover, for fear we knowsomething. It's  one thing, after all,  to piratize blundering, light-armedmerchant ships. It's another to fool around with an accredited envoy of theFoundation when  the mere fact of  his presence may mean  the Foundation isgrowing suspicious.
"Combine this?
"Hold  on, Mallow,  hold  on." Twer  raised his  hands. "You're  just aboutdrowning me with talk. What're you getting at? Never mind the in-betweens.""You've got  to have the in-betweens, or  you won't understand, Twer. We'reboth waiting.  They don't  know what I'm  doing here and I  don't know whatthey've  got here.  But  I'm in  the weaker  position  because I'm  one andthey're an entire world ?maybe with atomic power. I can't afford to be theone to weaken. Sure  it's dangerous. Sure there may be a hole in the groundwaiting for us. But we knew that from the start. What else is there to do?""I don't?Who's that, now?"Mallow looked  up patiently,  and tuned the receiver.  The visiplate glowedinto the craggy face of the watch sergeant.
"Speak, sergeant."The sergeant  said, "Pardon, sir. The men have  given entry to a Foundationmissionary.""A what?" Mallow's face grew livid.
"A   missionary,   sit.   He's    in   need   of   hospitalization,   sir-""There'll be  more than  one in need  of that, sergeant, for  this piece ofwork. Order the men to battle stations."Crew's lounge was almost  empty. Five minutes after the order, even the menon the off-shift were at their guns. It was speed that was the great virtuein the anarchic regions  of the interstellar space of the Periphery, and itwas  in  speed  above  all that  the  crew  of  a  master trader  excelled.
Mallow entered  slowly, and stared  the missionary up and  down and around.
His eye slid to  Lieutenant Tinter, who shifted uneasily to one side and toWatch-Sergeant Demen, whose blank face and stolid figure flanked the other.
The  Master Trader  turned to  Twer and  paused thoughtfully,  "Well, then,Twer, get  the officers here quietly, except  for the co-ordinators and thetrajectorian.  The men  are  to remain  at stations  till  further orders."There was  a five-minute hiatus, in  which Mallow kicked open  the doors tothe  lavatories, looked  behind the  bar, pulled  the draperies  across thethick windows.  For half a minute he left the  room altogether, and when hereturned he was humming abstractedly.
Men   filed   in.   Twer   followed,   and  closed   the   door   silently.
Mallow said  quietly, "First, who let this man  in without orders from me?"The watch sergeant stepped forward. Every eye shifted. "Pardon, sir. It wasno definite  person. It was a  sort of mutual agreement.  He was one of us,you might say, and these foreigners here?
Mallow  cut him  short,  "I sympathize  with your  feelings,  sergeant, andunderstand   them.   These   men,    were   they   under   your   command?""Yes, sir.""When this  is over,  they're to be  confined to individual  quarters for aweek. You  yourself are  relieved of all  supervisory duties for  a similarperiod. Understood?"The sergeant's face never changed, but there was the slightest droop to hisshoulders. He said, crisply, "Yes, sir.""You may leave. Get to your gun-station."The door closed behind him and the babble rose.
Twer broke in, "Why  the punishment, Mallow? You know that these Korellianskill captured missionaries.""An action against my  orders is bad in itself whatever other reasons theremay  be  in its  favor. No  one  was to  leave  or enter  the ship  withoutpermission."Lieutenant Tinter  murmured rebelliously,  "Seven days without  action. Youcan't maintain discipline that way."Mallow  said icily,  "I  can. There's  no merit  in discipline  under idealcircumstances. I'll have it  in the face of death, or it's useless. Where'sthis missionary? Get him here in front of me."The trader sat down, while the scarlet-cloaked figure was carefully broughtforward.
"What's your name, reverend?""Eh?"  The  scarlet-robed figure  wheeled  towards Mallow,  the whole  bodyturning as a unit. His eyes were blankly open and there was a bruise on onetemple. He  had not spoken, nor, as far as  Mallow could tell, moved duringall the previous interval.
"Your name, revered one?"The missionary  started to  sudden feverish life.  His arms went  out in anembracing  gesture.  "My son  ? my  children. May  you  always  be in  theprotecting arms of the Galactic Spirit."Twer stepped forward, eyes troubled, voice husky, "The man's sick. Take himto  bed, somebody. Order  him to bed,  Mallow, and  have him seen  to. He'sbadly hurt."Mallow's great  arm shoved him  back, "Don't interfere, Twer,  or I'll haveyou out of the room. Your name, revered one?"The  missionary's  hands  clasped  in  sudden  supplication,  "As  you  areenlightened men, save me from the heathen." The words tumbled out, "Save mefrom these  brutes and darkened ones  who raven after me  and would afflictthe Galactic Spirit with  their crimes. I am Jord Parma, of the Anacreonianworlds. Educated  at the Foundation; the  Foundation itself, my children. Iam a  Priest of the Spirit  educated into all the  mysteries, who have comehere where the inner  voice called me." He was gasping. "I have suffered atthe hands  of the unenlightened. As you are Children  of the Spirit; and inthe name of that Spirit, protect me from them."A  voice  broke  in   upon  them,  as  the  emergency  alarm  box  clamoredmetallically:
"Enemy units in sight! Instruction desired!"Every eye shot mechanically upward to the speaker.
Mallow swore  violently. He clicked open  the reverse and yelled, "Maintainvigil! That is all!" and turned it off.
He  made his  way to  the thick drapes  that rustled  aside at a  touch andstared grimly out,Enemy units!  Several thousands  of them in  the persons of  the individualmembers of  a Korellian mob.  The rolling rabble encompassed  the port fromextreme end to extreme end, and in the cold, hard light of magnesium flaresthe foremost straggled closer.
"Tinter!" The  trader never turned, but the back of  his neck was red. "Getthe outer  speaker working and find out what they want.  Ask if they have arepresentative of  the law with them.  Make no promises and  no threats, orI'll kill you."Tinter turned and left.
Mallow felt  a rough  hand on his shoulder  and he struck it  aside. It wasTwer. His voice was an angry hiss in his ear, "Mallow, you're bound to holdonto this  man. There's no way of  maintaining decency and honor otherwise.
He's of  the Foundation  and, after all,  he ? is a  priest. These savagesoutside?Do you hear me?""I hear you, Twer."  Mallow's voice was incisive. "I've got more to do herethan guard  missionaries. I'll do, sir,  what I please, and,  by Seldon andall  the  Galaxy, if  you  try  to stop  me,  I'll tear  out your  stinkingwindpipe.  Don't get  in my  way, Twer,  or it  will be  the last  of you."He  turned and  strode past.  "You! Revered  Parma! Did  you know  that, byconvention, no Foundation missionaries  may enter the Korellian territory?"The missionary was trembling, "I can but go where the Spirit leads, my son.
If the  darkened ones refuse enlightenment,  is it not the  greater sign oftheir need for it?""That's outside the question,  revered one. You are here against the law ofboth   Korell  and  the   Foundation.  I   cannot  in  law   protect  you."The  missionary's hands  were  raised again.  His earlier  bewilderment wasgone. There was the raucous clamor of the ship's outer communication systemin action, and the faint, undulating gabble of the angry horde in response.
The sound made his eyes wild.
"You hear them? Why  do you talk of law to me, of  a law made by men? Thereare higher  laws. Was it not the Galactic Spirit  that said: Thou shalt notstand idly  by to the hurl  of thy fellowman. And has  he not said: Even asthou  dealest with  the humble  and defenseless,  thus shalt thou  be dealtwith.
"Have you  not guns? Have you  not a ship? And behind  you is there not theFoundation? And above and  all-about you is there not the Spirit that rulesthe universe?" He paused for breath.
And then the great outer voice of the Far Star ceased and Lieutenant Tinterwas back, troubled.
"Speak!" said Mallow, shortly.
"Sir, they demand the person of Jord Parma.""If not?""There are  various threats, sir. It  is difficult to make  much out. Thereare so many ?and they seem quite mad. There is someone who says he governsthe district  and has police powers, but he is  quite evidently not his ownmaster.""Master or  not," shrugged Mallow, "he  is the law. Tell  them that if thisgovernor, or  policeman, or whatever  he is, approaches the  ship alone, hecan have the Revered Jord Parma."And there  was suddenly  a gun in  his hand. He  added, "I  don't know whatinsubordination is. I have never had any experience with it. But if there'sanyone here  who thinks he can teach me, I'd like  to teach him my antidotein return.''
The  gun swiveled  slowly,  and rested  on Twer.  With  an effort,  the oldtrader's face  untwisted and  his hands unclenched and  lowered. His breathwas a harsh rasp in his nostrils.
Tinter left,  and in  five minutes a  puny figure detached  itself from thecrowd. It  approached slowly  and hesitantly, plainly drenched  in fear andapprehension. Twice it turned  back, and twice the patently obvious threatsof the many-headed monster urged him on.
"All  right,"  Mallow  gestured   with  the  hand-blaster,  which  remainedunsheathed. "Grun and Upshur, take him out."The  missionary screeched.  He raised  his arms  and rigid  fingers spearedupward as the voluminous sleeves fell away to reveal the thin, veined arms.
There was a momentary,  tiny flash of light that came and went in a breath.
Mallow blinked and gestured again, contemptuously.
The missionary's  voice poured out  as he struggled in  the two-fold grasp,"Cursed be  the traitor  who abandons his  fellowman to evil  and to death.
Deafened be the ears  that are deaf to the pleadings of the helpless. Blindbe the eyes that are blind to innocence. Blackened forever be the soul thatconsorts with blackness?
Twer clamped his hands tightly over his ears.
Mallow flipped  his blaster and  put it away. "Disperse,"  he said, evenly,"to respective stations. Maintain full vigil for six hours after dispersionof  crowd.  Double  stations  for  forty-eight  hours  thereafter.  Furtherinstructions at that time. Twer, come with me."They were alone in  Mallow's private quarters. Mallow indicated a chair andTwer sat down. His stocky figure looked shrunken.
Mallow stared  him down, sardonically. "Twer,"  he said, "I'm disappointed.
Your three years in  politics seem to have gotten you out of trader habits.
Remember, I  may be a democrat back at  the Foundation, but there's nothingshort of tyranny that can run my ship the way I want it run. I never had topull a  blaster on my  men before, and I  wouldn't have had to  now, if youhadn't gone out of line.
"Twer, you have no official position, but you're here on my invitation, andI'll extend  you every courtesy ?in private. However,  from now on, in thepresence of  my officers  or men, I'm  'sir,' and not 'Mallow.'  And when Igive an order, you'll jump faster than a third-class recruit just for luck,or  I'll have  you handcuffed  in the  sub-level even  faster. Understand?"The  party-leader swallowed  dryly. He  said, reluctantly,  "My apologies.""Accepted! Will you shake?"Twer's limp  fingers were swallowed  in Mallow's huge palm.  Twer said, "Mymotives were  good. It's  difficult to send  a man out to  be lynched. Thatwobbly-kneed  governor or  whatever-he-was  can't save  him. It's  murder.""I  can't help  that.  Frankly, the  incident smelled  too bad.  Didn't younotice?""Notice what?""This spaceport  is deep in the middle of a  sleepy far section. Suddenly amissionary escapes.  Where from?  He comes here. Coincidence?  A huge crowdgathers.  From where?  The  nearest city  of any  size must  be at  least ahundred   miles   away.  But   they   arrive   in  half   an  hour.   How?""How?" echoed Twer.
"Well, what  if the missionary were brought here  and released as bait. Ourfriend, Revered  Parma, was considerably confused. He  seemed at no time tobe in complete possession of his wits.""Hard usage? murmured Twer bitterly.
"Maybe! And  maybe the idea was  to have us go  all chivalrous and gallant,into a  stupid defense of the  man. He was here  against the laws of Korelland the Foundation. If  I withhold him, it is an act of war against Korell,and   the  Foundation   would   have  no   legal  right   to   defend  us.""That ?that's pretty far-fetched."The  speaker  blared  and   forestalled  Mallow's  answer:  "Sir,  officialcommunication received.""Submit immediately!"The gleaming  cylinder arrived in its  slot with a click.  Mallow opened itand  shook  out  the   silver-impregnated  sheet  it  held.  He  rubbed  itappreciatively between  thumb and finger and  said, "Teleported direct fromthe capital. Commdor's own stationery."He read it in a glance and laughed shortly, "So my idea was far-fetched,was it?"He tossed it to Twer, and added, "Half an hour after we hand back themissionary, we finally get a very polite invitation to the Commdor's augustpresence ?after seven days of previous waiting. I think we passed a test."