Leo A. Frankowski
COPERNICK’S REBELLION
Prologue
AN OLD sergeant downed his third pot of wine, belched, and explained to the young private, “Kid, it’s like this. You see something needs doing, go ahead and do it. Don’t ask nobody’s permission, because they’ll tell you no. Officers got their positions to protect and they can’t get into no trouble if nothing happens.
“Just go ahead and do it. Then if it turns out right, you’re a hero. And if it goes wrong, you won’t get into much trouble because everybody knows you’re just a dumb trooper anyway.”
Chapter One
APRIL 21, 1999
IT SHOULD be intuitively obvious to the most casual of observers that our present civilization is faced with a number of serious, possibly insurmountable problems.
Our basic resources are almost exhausted.
Over forty nations possess atomic arsenals, many of which are large enough to eradicate all life on this planet.
The world’s literacy level has dropped to less than fifty percent.
Pollutants are rendering major tracts of farmland sterile at a time when more than eighty percent of our population is undernourished.
Poor standards of sanitation, increased population pressure, and ever-increasing geographical mobility have caused three serious plagues in the last decade. Diseases have annihilated other species; they could wipe out ours.
It seems likely that the Four Horsemen are about to ride in earnest, and I can see no politically acceptable method of stopping them. A technical, biological solution might be possible in ten or twenty years, if civilization holds together that long.
But even this solution could not be acceptable to the Earth’s two hundred warring nations.
The aging U.S. senator walked carefully into a plush Washington restaurant and looked slowly around for his dinner date.
“Senator Beinheimer. It’s good to meet you, sir.”
The senator was momentarily startled by the appearance of the athletic young man before him. “Well, it’s very good to meet you, son. But just now I have an appointment with an old friend.”
“I’m afraid I’m him, sir.”
“And I’m afraid you’re wrong, sir. I’m looking for Lou von Bork.”
“I’m Lou von Bork.”
“What! Oh, wait a minute. That’s right. I’d heard that you’d taken over your grandfather’s firm. It’s just that over the phone you sounded so much like him that I thought he was visiting his old stomping grounds again. How is old Lou?”
“Well, according to the postcards, he’s still taking his retirement pretty seriously, sir.”
“Raising hell and drinking sour mash on that boat of his, huh?”
“That’s about the size of it, sir.”
“And still chasing women, I guess.”
“Two of them, if you want to believe the photos.”
“Oh, you can believe them, son. Your granddad never was the sort to let his wick go dry for long.” The senator laughed. Then quietly he said, “It’s good to see that some people can retire.”
“Well, the country would be in worse shape without you, sir.”
“Hmm. Well.” The sparkle in the senator’s eyes went out. “About that lunch you promised me…”
Later, in one of the darkened, soundproof booths that made the Twin Bridges popular, the senator said, “Son, I just can’t get over how much you look like your granddad. Why, you’re the spitting image of him when he was your age. Come over to the house sometime and I’ll show you pictures of the two of us when we were in college.”
“I’d like that, sir.”
“Why, you even smoke Pall Malls and drink Jim Beam like he does. Now tell me, isn’t that part of it a little bit of an act? You just figure that if he was the best lobbyist in Washington, everything he did must have been right, huh?”
Von Bork just smiled. “Well, I’ll allow that nothing succeeds like success. Just don’t go laying it on too thick, and you’ll come along just fine.”
“I’ll try to, sir. It’s an odd business.”
“Well, you hear a lot of grumbling about paid lobbyists, but I think that they do a lot of good around here.”
“Indeed, sir?”
“Yes indeed. You see, son, my colleagues and I have to know what folks are thinking. We need information channels from all sorts of people, and your gang provides us with a lot of those.”
“Even if they’re biased?”
“Son, every channel is biased. Everybody has an ax to grind. At least with a lobbyist, you know what he’s pulling for, and you can make allowances.”
“I’ll bear that in mind, sir.”
“Will you quit ‘sirring’ me? My friends call me Moe.”
“Thanks, Moe.”
“You’re welcome, Lou. Now, what are you doing with your granddad’s company?”
“Mostly trying to pick up the pieces. Trying to get to know the people and so on.”
“It was kind of sudden, the way he just up and quit. The way he explained it to me, just before he left, was that retiring was like quitting smoking. You got to go cold turkey. Still, he should have at least introduced you around.”
“Well, maybe. Or maybe the best way to learn how to swim is just to jump in.”
“Well, son, I think that I might be able to give you a swimming lesson or two. You come over to Daisey’s party tomorrow, and I’ll introduce you around.”
“I’d really appreciate that, Moe.”
“No trouble at all. I owed old Lou a few favors, and I might as well pay them back to you. Now how about the other half of the business? Were you able to keep many of his old clients?”
“About half of them. I’ve got Markoff Industries, the Michigan Milk Producers, and Copernicus, Inc.”
