“… and just imagined it. But now I know I was wrong. If you knocked one of them out, they’re still coming back.”
Don couldn’t think of anything to say.
Eric looked at his chronometer and slurred, ”
“I just resigned.”
“I wish the hell I could,” Eric Hansen said, slipping from his stool. He looked about the bar, his eyes finally coming to rest on the two tired potted cactus plants flanking the door. “Well,
Neither Don nor Harry knew what they said in Mexico.
They watched the space pilot stumble toward the entrance.
“He drinks too much,” Harry said worriedly. “Don’t you guys have to be sharp all the time out in deep space?”
“Not for a day or so,” Don told him. “It’s all pretty automated at first. Not until you get to your own patrol sector.” He was sorry now he had come here.
Eric Hansen had hardly left before the door swung open again and a king-sized redhead entered. Both Don and the bartender looked up.
In surprise, Don recognized the newcomer. What in the hell was his name? Thor, something or other. The big man had rescued him from the drunken footpads and then took him back to his apartment to sleep off his own load of guzzle. It came back to Don Mathers. A present-day pacifist who didn’t believe in the all out effort against the Kradens.
The overgrown Viking came up with a grin on his square face. He held out a hand and said, “Thor Bjornsen. Remember me?”
Don shook and said, “Sure I remember you. You saved my neck. What in the world are you doing here?”
The other looked around the barroom, noting it was empty, and spotting a booth in the furthest corner. “Looking for you,” he said. “Could I have a few minutes of your time?”
“You can have, all of my time you want. How about a drink?”
“Okay. Let’s go over to that booth. I’d like to keep it private.”
They ordered their drinks and carried them over to the booth and got in it across from each other.
Don said, “How’d you know I was in here?”
Thor Bjornsen told him, “It was on the news this morning that you had returned to Center City. I remembered that you’d made it rather clear that you didn’t like the Space Service. I made an educated guess that one of the first things you’d do is come out here and resign.” He took in the civilian suit Don was wearing. “Was I right?”
“Yes.”
“At any rate, I came out and hung around the main entrance to the base. Finally, I spotted you leaving and followed you over here.”
Don took a swallow of his drink and scowled at the other. The drink tasted awful after the guzzle he’d been drinking recently. “Why?” he said.
“I wanted to talk to you about that Kraden you destroyed. You see, you flushing the cruiser and shooting it out with him throws the whole argument of the organization I belong to out of kilter.”
“How do you mean?” Don said cautiously.
“Remember? Our story is that the Kradens aren’t coming back. They were a peaceful armada, probably interested in trade, or new planets to colonize, if they weren’t already occupied.”
Don said grumpily, “That big shoot out we had with them half a century ago didn’t indicate that they were exactly peace lovers.”
The big man was unhappy at that. He said slowly, “As I mentioned to you before, some of us aren’t sure that the Kradens participated in that shoot out. That possibly they were shocked by the attack upon them and simply disappeared back into hyper-space, or whatever they call it.”
Don said, “Look, even if they were originally peacefully inclined, once our four space fleets hit them, they’d fire back.”
The big Scandinavian shook his head. “Not necessarily. The human race doesn’t subscribe to Jesus’ teaching that, if someone slaps you, turn the other cheek. But that doesn’t mean that more advanced, more enlightened cultures might not believe in it. Possibly when attacked, and even after having lost some of their spaceships, the Kradens, with their higher ethics, simply left.”
“Why did my cruiser come back?”
“How do you know it was a cruiser? Perhaps it was a merchantman, an explorer, possibly it was a ship bearing ambassadors.” Thor leaned forward. “Tell me the truth, Don. Did it fire at you? Even after you had initiated your attack?”
Don ran his tongue over his lip. He liked this man and was in his debt. However, there was nothing he could do without risking his neck. He said, finally, “Frankly, I can’t be sure. I was all caught up in the excitement, moving as fast as I could.”
Thor slumped back in his seat. He thought about it. He said finally, “Very possibly the Kradens were sending out another peaceful feeler to us. After the lapse of fifty years, perhaps their hope was that our warlike attitude toward extraterrestrials had cooled.”
“Perhaps,” Don said, putting doubt in his voice.
“It can never be proven now,” the other said in disgust. He finished his drink. “What are you going to do now that you’re a civilian again? I would have thought you might stay in and get some chairborne assignment that would keep you out of space but still allow you to enjoy your prestige.”
“I don’t have to wear a uniform to enjoy my prestige, as you put it. In fact, I’m beginning to wish I could avoid some of the damn prestige. But at any rate, I’m going to throw myself all out into the war effort to exploit the radioactives on the satellites.”
Thor stared at him. “They’re exploiting them too damn much as it is. In ten years there won’t be any remaining. If we haven’t solved the nuclear fusion problem by then there simply won’t be any radioactives left.”
Don Mathers couldn’t think of anything to say to that. If anything, he’d welcome the day. It would free him of Demming and Rostoff. They wouldn’t have any need of him any longer.
His companion waved at Harry to bring them a refill and then went into it. He said, “We’re destroying ourselves in destroying the solar system’s raw materials like this. It’s an utterly mad socioeconomic system. Are you at all up on economic history?”
“No,” Don said. What’s more, he couldn’t care less.
“Well, the last century in particular has been chaotic. Unbelievable. Classical capitalism, of the type raged against by Marx, actually collapsed in 1929. And never recovered. After ten years of economic chaos, prosperity was restored by the Second World War. The resources, both material and labor power, of practically the whole world were thrown into the military effort. Business boomed. When the war ended, so had classical capitalism. A form of what some call State Capitalism took over. The State entered into the economy to the point of dominating it. The military-industrial complex took over, increasingly, supported by government. Supposed prosperity was maintained by spending endless billions on the military. Supposedly the West and East were confronting each other eyeball to eyeball but in actuality their basic socioeconomic systems had little real difference. The Soviet Complex called itself communist, or socialist, but in truth, it was simply a different version of State Capitalism. The major difference was that instead of having individual capitalists and corporations owning the means of production, they were owned by the State, headed by the Communist party whose heads profited by the system. But basically both Eastern and Western economies were systems of waste, destruction of natural resources, pollution, inflation, threatened collapse of the international monetary system, overproduction in the developed countries and under-production in the undeveloped. These along with the uncontrolled population explosion were leading to a complete collapse. Only the coming of the Kradens prevented it. It was a shot in the arm, somewhat similar to the Second World War. Overnight, the planet was united and became an armed camp. The space program boomed, colonies went to every planet and satellite in the system that could support human life. Unemployment ceased to exist, production boomed.”
Don said, wearying of the long harangue, “Well, isn’t that for the good? At least nobody starves anymore.
