property values have skyrocketed in direct relation to depth. Only the most impoverished portion of the populace lives on the surface, which actually serves a double purpose.” “And what is that?” asked Baird.

“It keeps the Commonwealth happy and ignorant. Happy, because the portion of the planet they have access to is so tranquil and obviously unequipped for violence; and ignorant, because if nothing else the surface is totally unrepresentative of the planet.” He opened the hatch of the ship and stepped down. A windowless vehicle was awaiting them. “It works by remote control,” Jannis informed Baird. “The reason for it is so that nobody will be able to see in. Less chance of an incident this way.” “How do you survive in your business?” asked Baird. “I assume you mean physically and not financially.” Jannis smiled. “I never leave the surface, and I work out of our embassy.”

They entered the vehicle, which immediately raced off across the red, barren landscape. After a few minutes it began descending at a 45-degree angle, and when it leveled out again Baird estimated that he was at least four miles beneath the surface. There followed a number of sharp turns, so many that he concluded it was being done to confuse him in case he had been trying to remember the way back, which indeed was the case. At last it stopped and the doors opened automatically, to reveal the interior of a

large building of totally inhuman design.

“I'm not supposed to get out with you,” said Jannis. “I suppose I'll be kept here until you've finished with them, or vice versa.”

Baird nodded and stepped out. No Canphorites were around, so he walked to the only door he could find, opened it, and stepped through. He heard the door close behind him, and found himself in a small, darkened room. Standing a short distance away was a Canphorite. The being was typical of its race, all of which looked alike to Baird: tall, incredibly slender, with a large, bulbous head, small dark eyes, and a round, protruding mouth. It was humanoid in type, but very definitely inhuman. “You are Baird,” it said, the tones coming out dull and unaccented through a T- pack. “Yes,” said Baird. “And you?”

“I am Brastillios.”

“I am pleased to meet you,” said Baird. “Are you indeed?” said Brastillios.

Baird nodded. “Where are the others?”

“What others?”

“I was under the impression that I was to meet the leaders of your underground,” said Baird. “I am empowered to speak on their behalf,” said the Canphorite. “All right,” Baird said, making the best of the situation. “Let's get down to business.” “And just what is the business at hand?” asked Brastillios. “I think you know, or you wouldn't be here,” said Baird. “However, if you want me to spell it out for you, I will. My business is the overthrow of the Commonwealth.” “And why should a Man wish to overthrow another Man when there are still so many non-Men in the galaxy, non-Men that your race delights in slaughtering?” “What my government does and what my race approves of are not necessarily the same thing,” said Baird.

“I wonder,” said Brastillios. “Certainly you seem to have many of the trappings of your government. You cannot speak my language nor I yours, but it is I who have the T-pack.” “I was told to bring nothing with me,” said Baird. “Nothing,” agreed Brastillios, “except the desire to meet a Canphorite. And now that you have, do you even know whether I am native to Canphor VI or Canphor VII?” “What difference does it make?” said Baird. “There are only two sides involved here. Canphor VI and

VII are on the same side, so why should I prefer one to the other?”

“A noble sentiment, and an adroit evasion,” said Brastillios. “I am native to Canphor VII, and I agree that it makes no difference. There is Man, and there is everything else.” “Correction,” said Baird. “There aresome Men, and there is everything else.” “You have not yet answered my original question,” said the Canphorite. “Why should you wish to help us?”

“Because a large body of Men finds the Commonwealth as intolerable as you do. Our economy is unstable, our culture is stagnating, our ambition has been misdirected and stifled.” “Tell me about your ambition,” said Brastillios. “Men have always hungered for distant worlds. Why should I believe that you do not hunger for mine?” “Men have better goals to strive for than the subjugation of other races,” said Baird. “It is unusual, is it not,” said the Canphorite, “that in all of Man's history he has not yet set his sights on some of those better goals?”

“I'm not here to apologize for the past,” said Baird. “My concern is the future. You want to overthrow the Floating Kingdom. So do I. You can't do it alone. Neither can I. But together, we just might cause a few ripples.”

“And after these ripples have caused a wave that washes the Commonwealth away, what are your intentions then?” asked Brastillios.

“I might well ask you the same question,” said Baird. “If the Commonwealth crumbles, Man will be virtually powerless in a galaxy where he is vastly outnumbered by a populace that probably will have a few scores to settle with him.”

“The concept of punishment is alien to most races’ way of thinking. I think Man has very little to fear from us once the Commonwealth is destroyed,” lied Brastillios. “Similarly, I can assure you that the Men I represent are not the type to turn on their allies,” lied Baird. “Whowill they turn on?” asked the Canphorite. “Man always turns on someone.” “Governing the race of Man will be time-consuming enough,” said Baird. “We've already got a pretty big chunk of the galaxy. We don't need any more.” “And who will rule this philanthropic new order? You?” “The thought has crossed my mind.”

“It is an unrealistic thought,” said Brastillios. “We can strike a painful blow to the Commonwealth, but it will nonetheless outlive both you and myself by centuries, probably millennia.” “Then there's no time to waste,” said Baird. “Shall we lay our cards on the table?”

“Even in translation I do not understand this idiomatic expression.”

“It means that our meeting has reached that point where we must be frank and open with each other,” said Baird. “And since you still seem somewhat dubious, I'll begin. Through various contacts I have in the Navy, I can present our side with a force of approximately twelve million men, about two million ships, and a considerable arsenal. No single unit will amount to more than five percent of the whole. They are scattered around the galaxy, but this may prove to be an advantage, as they will thus prevent the Commonwealth from massing its forces. Now, how many planets do you control or can you influence?” “I find it interesting that you speak in terms of numbers of beings, while I am expected to reply in terms of planets,” said Brastillios.

“I am speaking in both cases in terms of strategic units,” Baird pointed out. “I fully realize, as you must, that neither my humans nor your allied races can militarily overthrow the Commonwealth as things stand now. But a well-orchestrated series of attacks and rebellions may give other Men and aliens the idea that it can be done.”

“Why would other Men come over to your side?” asked Brastillios. “Why would they not defend their primacy to the death?”

“Men side with winners,” said Baird. “And they wouldn't view it as surrendering their primacy, but as overthrowing an unpopular government. So I repeat: How many worlds can you influence?” “Perhaps three thousand, perhaps more,” said Brastillios. “There can be no terms such as ‘perhaps’ involved,” said Baird. “We've got to coordinate this entire operation down to the last detail. Each rebellion, both in the Navy and among the nonhuman worlds, must appear spontaneous, and they all must be strategically mapped to cause the most difficulty and confusion to the Navy. Nor must they all be military actions; we don't want the first ten planets that rebel to be blown to kingdom come—it would discourage the rest of them. Now, what kind of weaponry do you have at your disposal?”

The Canphorite listed the contents of his arsenal and made some educated guesses at what the other alien worlds possessed. Baird was surprised to find them so well armed, but said nothing. After all, it just made his job that much easier.

“Your history books will not speak too highly of what you have done today,” remarked Brastillios, when the broad lines of the strategy had been agreed upon. “If we win, I'll be the author of those books,” said Baird. “And if we lose, someone else will overthrow the Commonwealth sometime in the future, in which case I'll be considered a visionary born before his time. If we take a smashing defeat, what will the books say about you?” “They have been written for millennia,” said Brastillios. “We have only been awaiting the proper time to publish them.”

For just a fleeting instant Baird thought he might have bitten off more than he could chew. Then he shrugged. The aliens wouldn't cause any problem. They'd be in the vanguard of the fighting for the next few centuries, and if they still were feeling their oats

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