Battlefield Earth Part 11

But Jonnie kept on, kept on cramming years of education into weeks and months. There was so MUCH to know! He had to grasp it ALL!

And with only one goal in mind: vengeance for the destruction of his race! Could he learn enough fast enough to accomplish his purpose?

Chapter 8.

Terl had felt smug right up to the moment he received the summons from the Planetary Director. He was nervous now, waiting for the appointment to occur.

The weeks had fled on, the summer fading into the chill of autumn. The man-animal was doing well. It s every waking moment seemed to be spent crowded up against the c.h.i.n.ko language and technical instruction machine.

It hadn't begun to talk yet, but of course it was just an animal and stupid. It hadn't even grasped the principle of progressive speed cross-a.s.sociation until it had been shown.

And it didn't even have enough sense to stand squarely in front of the instantaneous conceptual knowledge transmitter. Didn't it realize you had to get the full wave impulse to get it through your skull bones? Stupid. It would take months at this rate to get an education! But what could you expect of an animal that lived on raw rat!

Still, sometimes when he went in the cage, Terl had looked into those strange blue eyes and had seen danger. No matter. Terl had decided that if the animal proved dangerous, he could simply use it to get things started, and then at the first sign it was getting out of hand it could be vaporized fast enough. One b.u.t.ton push on a hand-blaster. Zip-bang, no man-animal. Very easily handled.

Yes, things had been going very well until this summons. Such things made one nervous. There was no telling what the Planetary Director might have found out, no telling what tales some employee might have carried to him. A security chief was ordinarily not much consulted. In fact, by a devious chain of command, a security chief was not directly under the Planetary Director on all points. This made Terl feel better. In fact, there had been cases where a security chief had removed a Planetary Director-cases involving corruption. But still, the Planetary Director remained the administrative head and was the one who filed reports, reports that could transfer one, or continue one on post.

The summons had come late the night before and Terl had not slept very well. He had tumbled around in his bed, imagining conversations. At one time he had actually gotten up and combed through his office files wondering what he had on the Planetary Director, just in case. That he couldn't recall or find anything depressed him. Terl only felt operational when he had big leverage in terms of potential blackmail.

It was almost with relief that he saw the appointment time arrive and he rumbled into the office of the top Psychlo.

Numph, Planetary Director of Earth, was old. Rumor had it that he was a discard from the Central Company Directorate. Not for corruption, but just for b.u.mbling incompetence. And he had been sent as far away as they could send him. An unimportant post, a rim star in a remote galaxy, a perfect place to send someone and forget him.

Numph was sitting at his upholstered desk, looking out through the pressure dome at the distant transshipment center. He was gnawing absently on a corner of a file folder.

Terl approached watchfully. Numph's executive uniform was neat. His fur, turning blue, was impeccably combed and in place. He didn't look particularly upset, though his amber eyes were introverted.

Numph didn't look up. "Sit down," he said absently.

"I come in response to your summons, Your Planetship."

The old Psychlo turned to his desk. He looked wearily at Terl. "That's obvious." He didn't much care for Terl, but he didn't dislike him either. It was the same with all these executives, definitely not first team. Not like the old days, other planets, other posts, better staffs.

"We're not showing a profit," said Numph. He threw the folder down on his desk. Two kerbango saucepans rattled, but he did not offer any.

"I should imagine this planet is getting mined out," said Terl.

"That's not it. There's plenty of deep-down ore to keep us going for centuries. Besides, that's the concern of the engineers, not security."

Terl didn't care to feel rebuked. "I've heard that there's an economic depression in a lot of the company's markets, that prices are down."

"That could be. But that's the concern of the economics department at the home office, not security."

This second rebuke made Terl a bit restless. His chair groaned alarmingly under his bulk. Numph pulled the folder to him and fiddled with it. Then he looked wearily at Terl.

"It's costs," said Numph.

"Costs," said Terl, getting his own back a bit, "has to do with accounting, not security."

Numph looked at him for several seconds. He couldn't make up his mind whether Terl was being insolent. He decided to ignore it. He threw the folder back down.

"Mutiny is," said Numph.

Terl stiffened. "Where's the mutiny?" Not the slightest rumor of it had reached him. What was going on here? Did Numph have his own intelligence system that bypa.s.sed Terl?

"It hasn't occurred yet," said Numph. "But when I announce the pay cuts and drop all bonuses, there's liable to be one."

Terl shuddered and leaned forward. This affected him in more ways than one.

Numph tossed the folder at him. "Personnel costs. We have three thousand seven hundred nineteen employees on this planet scattered over five active minesites and three exploratory sites. That includes landing field personnel, freighter crews, and the transshipment force. At an average pay of thirty thousand Galactic credits a year, that's C111,570,000. Food, quarters, and breathe-gas is averaged at fifteen thousand credits each; comes to C55,785,000. The total is C167,355,000. Add to that the bonuses and transport and we have nearly exceeded the value of our output. That doesn't count wear and tear, and it doesn't count expansion."

Terl had been dimly aware of this and in fact had used it as an argument- a false one- in furthering his own personal plan.

He did not think the time was ripe to spring his project. But he had not antic.i.p.ated that the powerful and rich Intergalactic Company would go so far as to cut pay and wipe out bonuses.

While this affected him directly, he was far more interested in his own plan of personal wealth and power.

Was it time to open up a new phase in his own scheme? The animal was actually doing pretty well. It probably could be trained for the elementary digging venture. It could be used to recruit other animals. He was pretty well convinced it could do the necessary mining, dangerous though it was.

Stripping that vein out of the blizzard-torn, sheer cliff would be quite a trick and might be fatal to some of the animals involved. But who cared about that? Besides, the moment the stuff was gotten out, the animals would have to be vaporized so the secret could never leak.

"We could increase our output," said Terl, fencing in toward his target.

"No, no, no," said Numph. "That's pretty impossible." He sighed. "We're limited on personnel."

That was cream to Terl's earbones.

"You're right," said Terl, heading Numph further into the trap. "Unless we solve it, it will lead straight into mutiny."

Numph nodded glumly.

"In a mutiny," said Terl, "the first ones the workers vaporize are the executives."

Again Numph nodded, but this time there was a flicker of fear in the depths of his amber eyes.

"I'm working on it," said Terl. It was premature and he hadn't intended to spring it, but the time was now. "If we could give them hope that the cuts weren't permanent and if we imported no new personnel, the threat of mutiny would be reduced."

"True, true," said Numph. "We are already not bringing in any additional or new personnel. But at the same time our installations are working very hard, and there's already some grumbling."

"Agreed," said Terl. He plunged. "But what would you say if I told you that right this minute I was working on a project to halve our work force within two years?"

"I'd say it would be a miracle."

That was what Terl liked to hear. Plaudits from one and all in the home office would be his yet.

Numph was looking almost eager.

"No Psychlo," said Terl, "likes this planet. We can't go outside without wearing masks-'

"Which increases costs in breathe-gas," said Numph.

"-and what we need is a work force of air-breathers that can do elementary machine operation."

Numph sank back, doubt hitting him. "If you're thinking of...what was their name...c.h.i.n.kos, they were all wiped out ages back."

"Not c.h.i.n.kos. And I congratulate Your Planetship on his knowledge of company history. Not c.h.i.n.kos. There is a potential local supply."

"Where?"

"I am not going to say any more about it right now, but I want to report that I am making progress and that it is very hopeful."

"Who are these people?"

"Well, actually, they are not 'people,' as you would say. But there are sentient beings on this planet."

"They think? They talk?"

"They are very manually adept."

Numph pondered this. "They talk? You can communicate with them?"

"Yes," said Terl, biting off a bit more than he really knew. "They talk."

"There's a bird down on the lower continent can talk. A mine director there sent one. It could swear in Psychlo. Somebody didn't replace the air cartridge in its dome and it died." He frowned. "But a bird isn't manually-"

"No, no, no," said Terl, cutting off the b.u.mbling. "These are little short things, two arms, two legs-'

"Monkeys! Terl, you can't be serious-"

"No, not monkeys. Monkeys could never operate a machine. I am talking about man."

Numph looked at him for several seconds. Then he said, "But there are only a very few of them left, even if they could do what you say."

"True, true," said Terl. "They have been listed as an endangered species."

"A What?"

"A species that is about to become extinct."

"But a few like that would not resolve our-"

"Your Planetship, I will be frank. I have not counted how many there are left-"

"But n.o.body has even seen one for ages. Terl..."

"The recon drones have noted them. There were thirty-four right up in those mountains you see there. And they exist on other continents in greater numbers. I have reason to believe that if I were given facilities I could round up several thousand."

"Ah, well. Facilities...expense...." "No, no. No real expense. I have been engaged on an economy program. I have even reduced the number of recon drones. They breed fast if given a chance-"

"But if n.o.body has even seen one...what functions could they replace?"

"Exterior machine operators. Over seventy-five percent of our personnel is tied up in just that. Tractors, loading rigs. It 's not skilled operation.

"Oh, I don't know, Terl. If n.o.body has even seen one-'

"I have one."

"What?"

"Right here. In the zoo cages near the compound. I went out and captured one- took a bit of doing, but I made it. I was rated high in marksmanship at the school, you know."

Numph puzzled over it. "Yes...l did hear some rumor there was a strange animal out in the zoo, as you call it. Somebody, one of the mine directors, I think...yes, Char it was, laughing about it."

"It's no laughing matter if it affects pay and profits," glowered Terl.

"True. Very true. Char always was a fool. So you have an animal under testing that could replace personnel. Well, well. Remarkable."

"Now," said Terl, "if you will give me a blanket requisition on transport-"

"Oh, well. Is there any chance of seeing this animal? You know, to see what it could do. The death benefits we have to pay on equipment accidents would themselves tip the profit-loss scale if they didn't exist.

Or were minimized. There's also machine damage potential. Yes, the home office doesn't like machine damage."

"I've only had it a few weeks and it will take a little time to train it on a machine. But yes, I think I could arrange for you to see what it could do."

"Fine. Just get it ready and let me know. You say you're training it? You know it is illegal to teach an inferior race metallurgy or battle tactics. You aren't doing that, are you?"

"No, no, no. Just machine operation. The push-pull of b.u.t.tons and levers is all. Have to teach it to talk to be able to give it orders. I'll arrange for a demonstration when it's ready. Now if you could just give me a blanket requisition-"

"When I've seen the test there will be time enough," said Numph.

Terl had risen out of his chair, the prepared sheets of requisitions half out of his pocket. He put them back. He'd have to think of some other way- but he was good at that. The meeting had come off pretty well. He was not feeling too bad. And then Numph dropped the mine bucket on him.

"Terl," said Numph. "I certainly appreciate this backup. Just the other day there was a dispatch from home office about your continued tour of duty here. They plan in advance, you know. But in this case they needed a security chief with field experience on home planet. I'm thankful I turned it down. I recommended you for another ten-year tour of duty."

"I had only two years left to run," gagged Terl.

"I know, I know. But good security chiefs are valuable. It will do your record no harm to show you are in demand."

Terl made it to the door. Standing in the pa.s.sageway he felt horribly ill. He had trapped himself, trapped himself right here on this cursed planet!

The glittering vein of gold lay in the mountains. His plans were going well in all other ways. It would take perhaps two years to get those forbidden riches, and the end of this duty tour would have been a personal triumph. Even the man-thing was shaping up. Everything had been running so well.