“Include me
Before Rog could answer, Bill Corpsman came bursting into my cabin without knocking, looked at us, and said sharply to Clifton, «Have you told him?»
«Yes,» agreed Clifton. «He's turned down the job.»
«Huh? Nonsense!»
«It's not nonsense,» I answered, «and by the way, Bill, that door you just came through has a nice spot on it to knock. In the profession the custom is to knock and shout, “Are you decent?” I wish you would remember it.»
«Oh, dirty sheets! We're in a hurry. What's this guff about your refusing?»
«It's not guff. This is not the job I signed up for.»
«Garbage! Maybe you are too stupid to realize it, Smythe, but you are in too deep to prattle about backing out. It wouldn't be healthy.»
I went to him and grabbed his arm. «Are you threatening me? If you are, let's go outside and talk it over.»
He shook my hand off. «In a spaceship? You really are simple, aren't you? But haven't you got it through your thick head that you caused this mess yourself?»
«What do you mean?»
«He means,» Clifton answered, «that he is convinced that the fall of the Quiroga government was the direct result of the speech you made earlier today. It is even possible that he is right. But it is beside the point. Bill, try to be reasonably polite, will you? We get nowhere by bickering.»
I was so surprised by the suggestion that
Well, if it was, it was certainly fast service.
I said wonderingly, «Bill, do I understand that you are complaining that the speech I made was too effective to suit you?»
«Huh? Hell, no! It was a lousy speech.»
«So? You can't have it both ways. You're saying that a lousy speech went over so big that it scared the Humanity Party right out of office. Is that what you meant?»
Corpsman looked annoyed, started to answer, and caught sight of Clifton suppressing a grin. He scowled, again started to reply — finally shrugged and said, «All right, buster, you proved your point; the speech could not have had anything to do with the fall of the Quiroga government. Nevertheless, we've got work to do. So what's this about you not being willing to carry your share of the load?»
I looked at him and managed to keep my temper — Bonforte's influence again; playing the part of a calm- tempered character tends to make one calm inside. «Bill, again you cannot have it two ways. You have made it emphatically clear that you consider me just a hired hand. Therefore I have no obligation beyond my job, which is finished. You can't hire me for another job unless it suits me. It doesn't.»
He started to speak but I cut in. «That's all. Now get out. You're not welcome here.»
He looked astounded. «Who the hell do you think you are to give orders around here?»
«Nobody. Nobody at all, as you have pointed out. But this is my private room, assigned to me by the Captain. So now get out or be thrown out. I don't like your manners.»
Clifton added quietly, «Clear out, Bill. Regardless of anything else, it is his private cabin at the present time. So you had better leave.» Rog hesitated, then added, «I think we both might as well leave; we don't seem to be getting anywhere. If you will excuse us — Chief?»
«Certainly.»
I sat and thought about it for several minutes. I was sorry that I had let Corpsman provoke me even into such a mild exchange; it lacked dignity. But I reviewed it in my mind and assured myself that my personal differences with Corpsman had not affected my decision; my mind had been made up before he appeared.
A sharp knock came at the door. I called out, «Who is it?»
«Captain Broadbent.»
«Come in, Dak.»
He did so, sat down, and for some minutes seemed interested in pulling hangnails. Finally he looked up and said, «Would it change your mind if I slapped the blighter in the brig?»
«Eh? Do you have a brig in the ship?»
«No. But it would not be hard to jury-rig one.»
I looked at him sharply, trying to figure what went on inside that bony head. «Would you actually put Bill in the brig if I asked for it?»
He looked up, cocked a brow and grinned wryly. «No. A man doesn't get to be a captain operating on any such basis as that. I would not take that sort of order even from
«That's right.»
«Mmm — I hear you've made one of that sort.»
«That's right.»
«So. I've come to have a lot of respect for you, old son. First met you, I figured you for a clotheshorse and a facemaker, with nothing inside. I was wrong.»
«Thank you.»
«So I won't plead with you. Just tell me: is it worth our time to discuss the factors? Have you given it plenty of thought?»
«My mind is made up, Dak. This isn't my pidgin.»
«Well, perhaps you're right. I'm sorry. I guess we'll just have to hope he pulls out of it in time.» He stood up. «By the way, Penny would like to see you, if you aren't going to turn in again this minute.»
I laughed without pleasure. «Just “by the way,” eh? Is this the proper sequence? Isn't it Dr. Capek's turn to try to twist my arm?»
«He skipped his turn; he's busy with Mr. B. He sent you a message, though.»
«Eh?»
«He said you could go to hell. Embroidered it a bit, but that was the gist.»
«He did? Well, tell him I'll save him a seat by the fire.»
«Can Penny come in?»
«Oh, sure! But you can tell her that she is wasting her time; the answer is still “No.”»
So I changed my mind. Confound it, why should an argument seem so much more logical when underlined with a whiff of Jungle Lust? Not that Penny used unfair means, she did not even shed tears — not that I laid a finger on her — but I found myself conceding points, and presently there were no more points to concede. There is no getting around it. Penny is the worldsaver type and her sincerity is contagious.
The boning I did on the trip out to Mars was as nothing to the hard study I put in on the trip to New Batavia. I already had the basic character; now it was necessary to fill in the background, prepare myself to
The tightrope act I was going to have to attempt was made possible only by Bonforte's Farleyfile, perhaps the best one ever compiled. Farley was a political manager of the twentieth century, of Eisenhower I believe, and the method he invented for handling the personal relations of politics was as revolutionary as the German invention of staff command was to warfare. Yet I had never heard of the device until Penny showed me Bonforte's.
It was nothing but a file about people. However, the art of politics is «nothing but» people. This file contained all, or almost all, of the thousands upon thousands of people Bonforte had met in the course of his long public life; each dossier consisted of what he knew about that person
