He looked around at her. “Evidently, nobody can,” he said disgustedly. “There’s no way of getting to Neuve Albuquerque in time to get that cruiser to New Delos.”
Tog Lee Chang Chu fished in her bag and came up with a wallet similar to the one in which Ronny carried his Section G badge. She held it up to the screen. “Bureau of Investigation, Section G,” she said calmly. “It will be necessary that Agent Bronston and I be in Neuve Albuquerque within the hour.”
The metallic voice said, “Of course. Proceed to your right and through Corridor K to Exit Four. Your rocket will be there. Identify yourself to Lieutenant Economou, who will be at the desk at Exit Four.”
Tog turned to Ronny Bronston. “Shall we go?” she said demurely.
He cleared his throat, feeling foolish. “Thanks, Tog,” he said.
“Not at all, Ronny. Why, this is my job.”
Was there the faintest touch of sarcasm in her voice? It hadn’t been more than a couple of hours ago that he had been hinting rather heavily to Sid Jakes that he needed no assistance.
She even knew the layout of the West Greater Washington shuttleport. Her small body swiveled through the hurrying passengers, her small feet a-twinkle, as she led him to and down Corridor K and then to the desk at Exit Four.
Ronny anticipated her here. He flashed his own badge at the chairborne Space Forces lieutenant there.
“Lieutenant Economou?” he said. “Ronald Bronston, of the Bureau of Investigation, Section G. We’ve got to get to Neuve Alburquerque soonest.”
The lieutenant, only mildly impressed, said, “We can have you in the air in ten minutes, citizen. Just a moment and I’ll guide you myself.”
In the rocket, Ronny had time to appraise her at greater length. She was a delicately pretty thing, although her expression was inclined to the over-serious. There was only a touch of the Mongolian fold at the corner of her eyes. On her it looked unusually good. Her complexion was that which only the blend of Chinese and Caucasian can give. Her figure, thanks to her European blood, was fuller than Eastern Asia usually boasts; tiny, but full.
Let’s admit it, he decided. My assistant is the cutest trick this side of a Tri-D movie queen, and we’re going to be thrown in the closest of juxtaposition for an indefinite time. This comes under the head of work?
He said, “Look here, Tog, you were with Sid Jakes longer than I was. What’s the full story?”
She folded her slim hands in her lap, looking like a schoolgirl about to recite. “Do you know anything about the socio-economic system on New Delos?”
“Well, no,” he admitted.
She said severely, “I’d think that they would have given you more background before an assignment of this type.”
Ronny said impatiently, “In the past three months I’ve been filled in on the economic systems, the religious beliefs, the political forms, of a thousand planets. I just happened to miss New Delos.”
Her mouth expressed disapproval by tucking down on the sides, which was all very attractive but also irritating. She said, “There are two thousand, four hundred and thirty-six member planets in the UP—I’d think an agent of Section G would be up on the basic situation on each.”
He had her there. He said snidely, “Hate to contradict you, Tog, but the number is two thousand, four hundred and thirty-four.”
“Then,” she nodded agreeably, “membership has changed since this morning when Menalaus and Aldeberan Three were admitted. Have two planets dropped out?”
“Look,” he said, “let’s stop bickering. What’s the word on New Delos?”
“Did you ever read Frazer’s Golden Bough?” she asked.
“No.”
“You should. At any rate, New Delos is a theocracy. A priesthood elite rules it. A God-King, who is immortal, holds absolute authority. The strongest of superstition, plus an efficient inquisition, keeps the people under control.”
“Sounds terrible,” Ronny growled.
“Why? Possibly the government is extremely efficient and under it the planet progressing at a rate in advance of UP averages.”
He stared at her in surprise.
She said, “Would you rather be ruled by the personal arbitrary whims of supremely wise men, or by laws formulated by a mob?”
It stopped him momentarily. In all his adult years, he couldn’t remember ever meeting an intelligent, educated person who had been opposed to the democratic theory.
“Wait a minute, now,” he said. “Who decides that they’re supremely wise men who are doing this arbitrary ruling? Let any group come to power, by whatever means, and they’ll soon tell you they’re an elite. But let’s get back to New Delos—from what you’ve said so far, the people are held in a condition of slavery.”
“What’s wrong with slavery?” Tog said mildly.
He all but glared at her. “Are you kidding?”
“I seldom jest,” Tog said primly. “Under the proper conditions, slavery can be the most suitable system for a people.”
“Under what conditions?”
“Have you forgotten your Earth history to the point where Egypt, Greece and Rome mean nothing to you? Man made some of his outstanding progress under slavery. And do you contend that man’s lot is necessarily miserable given slavery? As far back as Aesop we know of slaves who have reached the heights in their society. Slaves sometimes could and did become the virtual rulers in ancient countries.” She shrugged prettily. “The prejudices which you hold today, on Earth, do not necessarily apply to all time, nor to all places.”
He said impatiently, “Look, Tog, we can go into this further later. Let’s get back to New Delos. What happened?”
Tog said, “The very foundation of their theocracy is the belief on the part of the populace that the God-King is immortal. No man conspires against his Diety. Supervisor Jakes informed me that it is understood by UP Intelligence that about once every twenty years the priesthood secretly puts in a new God-King. Plastic surgery would guarantee facial resemblance, and, of course, the rank and file citizen would probably never be allowed close enough to discover that their God-King seemed different every couple of decades. At any rate,
