'This afternoon?'
'Yes, preferably. But especially tonight. Is Lester here?'
'Yes, Mr. Auburn. And Ted Meer as well, as you instructed.'
Lester was a carbon copy of Barry Wimple, fifteen years younger. One glance marked him as an efficient, supercilious WASP who would wind up a millionaire by middle age almost without trying.
Jerry nodded at his greeting and said, 'Lester, I want you to find out who is the head of Mercenaries, Incorporated in North America. Have him here this evening. Tell him that the meeting is confidential. I'm assuming that New York is his base of operations.'
Lester stared at him blankly, a touch of dismay there. 'Mercenaries, Incorporated, sir?'
'You heard me. If they're here, and they should be, there must be some manner of contacting them. Start earning your pay, damn it. Don't you know any upper slot news people, or someone in the IABI? Either should know.'
Wimple cleared his throat. 'I have a niece who is married to a captain of detectives in the Inter-American Bureau of Investigation, Mr. Auburn.'
'That ought to do it. Anything else pressing on the agenda, Barry?'
His senior aide said, 'There's a representative from the Lagrangists waiting to see you, sir. When the order came for your limousine, I took the liberty of informing him that you were to be here this afternoon and that you might work him into your schedule. He's on his way. Of course, if you haven't the time…'
'Lagrangists?' Jerry said. 'You mean from Lagrange Five? What does he want?'
'He wouldn't say, sir. He wanted to discuss it with you face to face. He was upset when I told him that you had retired and seldom devoted time to business matters anymore.'
Jerry grunted. 'Send him into my office when he arrives. I
don't believe I've ever met a real space colonist before. Brief me, Barry. How much have we currently got invested in Lagrange Five and the Asteroid Belt Islands?'
'Two hundred and twelve million and, ah, some change, Mr. Auburn. Largely in the Satellite Solar Power Plants.'
Jerry grunted again. 'That much? All right, you two, get going. I'll see the Lagrangist in my office and the Mercenaries, Incorporated bastard here in my quarters, both as soon as they've arrived. And remember, Barry, I want the new guards to frisk them before they see me.'
The two left. As they crossed the outer office, Lester said to his higher-up, 'He's a tough sonofabitch.'
Wimple looked at him from the side of his eyes. 'I'd probably be the same if I had inherited a few billion.'
Jerry Auburn was idly looking at some reports he wouldn't ordinarily have bothered with when the man from Lagrange Five was announced. He hadn't known what he had expected; among other things, possibly an older man than this, if the other was an official representative from the space islands.
Ian Venner was disgustingly healthy looking. He must have been exactly the height and weight that the insurance statistics averaged out on a man of his age. He was a sun-faded blond, sharp blue of eye, with a good mouth on the wide and dry humorous side, and a strong chin. He looked as though he either owned the place or didn't give a damn who did.
'Sit down, Mr. Venner,' Jerry said, even while sizing the other up.
'Just Venner,' the newcomer said crisply. 'We don't use the term Mister in Lagrangia.''
Jerry said, 'Why not?'
'It is derived from the word master and I don't wish to be anyone's master any more than I want someone else to be mine.'
Jerry refrained from twisting his mouth in amusement. 'What can I do for you, Venner?'
'The Space Federation is desirous of buying out your holdings in space, Auburn. I've been sent to make initial contact.'
'Man, you don't waste words. What federation? I don't usually handle this sort of thing. I have aides who make business decisions in which I seldom involve myself. I didn't even know there was a federation in Lagrangia.'
The other nodded, not as though he approved of Jerry Auburn's divorcing himself from the details of his enterprises, but as though he had already heard of the fact. He said, 'Recently, a loose-knit organization has been formed to represent the united needs of Lagrangia and the Belt Islands.'
Jerry scowled. 'United States of the Americas? Common Europe? The Soviet Complex? The Reunited Nations? Or a combination of two or more, or all of them?'
'No. The federation represents only space colonists actually living in space. We have no other affiliations.'
'Don't be ridiculous,' Jerry growled. 'Every island in space is controlled by either some Earthside nation, the Reunited Nations, or by consortiums of multinational corporations.'
His visitor was shaking his head. 'Times are changing. One by one, we're buying out private interests in Lagrangia and the Asteroids, and most of the new islands are colonized from the older islands but have no political ties to them, or to the original nations which first founded them.'
Jerry was staring at him now. This was absolutely new. There wasn't much news about the space projects any more; they were being played down drastically, as budgets were being cut on the space program. Still, he should have heard of this.
He said, 'You mean to tell me that up in space you people get together and build a new island that has no affiliation whatsoever to Earthside private enterprise or to any specific nation?'
'That's correct. We're tired of misguidance from, ah, Earthworms.'
'Earthworms!'
The Lagrangist wasn't without humor. He laughed lightly and said, 'An old joke.'
Jerry said, 'But buying out my interests in solar power and such. Where the hell would you get the credits? One of my executives just informed me I have over two hundred million in investments in space.'
The other agreed to that. 'From the first, pay in space has been astronomical, compared to that Earthside. And, frankly, there is comparatively little to spend it on. We don't particularly go for ostentatious living, conspicuous consumption. We have no desire to keep up with the Joneses, or have a larger house, or boat—in those islands large enough to have suitable bodies of water—than our neighbors. I don't mean that there are any rules against it, but we simply don't do it. We pile up the credits. Some of the more energetic among us began to put scientific and industrial space developments to work for exports—artificial diamonds, for instance. Now we have enough money to buy out Earthside interests and, uh, I believe the term you use down here is to nationalize them.'
'Why?' Jerry said blankly.
His visitor sighed. 'For one thing, you Earthworms are usually unable to identify with our problems. You send instructions that are ridiculous considering the situations that apply. Often you send directives to expand in some direction in which expansion is pure nonsense, or refuse to divert funds to some effort which is absolutely necessary. It's something like England running the Thirteen Colonies from three thousand miles away. The British had no conception of the problems that faced American colonists.'
Jerry Auburn was astonished. He came to his feet and made his way over to his office bar, his face in thought. 'Drink?' he said.
The Lagrangist said, 'You wouldn't have any Reman Riesling, would you? Top Earthside wines are one of the few things we haven't been able to duplicate in Lagrangia. We're working on it,' he added quickly.
'I have some,' Jerry murmured, still in his other thoughts. He filled glasses and returned to his desk, extending his visitor the dry white wine.
After settling back into his chair and swallowing some of his brandy, he said, 'So: the space colonists are attempting to cut ties with Mother Earth.'
'Some mother,' the other said wryly. 'More like a stepmother.'
'How do you mean?'
'Earth has, from the beginning, only exploited Lagrangia and the Belt Islands. Almost all the profits are funneled back to Earth, rather than being used for continued expansion of the space program. A corporation wants immediate dividends; not, uh, pie in the sky a century from now. We have a different view. We've got a different dream.'
