Inferno: A Chronicle of a Distant World (The Galactic Comedy) (6 page)

Wycynski was a champion, and he fought back like one, but the enormous jason merely shrugged off his blows and began pounding him, a right to the head, a left to the chest, a right to jaw. With each punch, the jasons cheered wildly and the human's knees buckled more. Finally Labu turned to Emperor Bobby, and offered another clumsy salute, and the crowd, both jason and human, became suddenly silent. For just an instant Beddoes seemed to think he was staring directly at her and Cartright; then he grinned happily, turned back to his opponent, and delivered one final blow to the head. Wycynski collapsed, totally senseless, to the canvas. The jasons, except for Bobby, leaped to their feet as one, and applauded. A moment later, led by Cartright, the humans also stood up and clapped their approval, though less enthusiastically. Only the handful of moles, who seem to have taken little or no interest in the bout, remained seated.

After his hand had been raised in victory, Labu was given a microphone to address the crowd. It was announced that he spoke no Terran, and would use the Maringo dialect.

"I thank the Enkoti sitate for this opportunity," he said, flashing a huge smile at the crowd, and again Beddoes had the uneasy feeling he was looking in her direction. There was something about it that she found unnerving, something alien that she had never seen in Bobby or even Disanko. "It was fun."

And with that, he returned to his dressing room.

"Well, Susan," said Emperor Bobby, "now that you've seen a boxing match, what did you think of it?"

Beddoes paused for a moment. "I think Gama Labu has a curious sense of fun," she replied at last.

"Well, what can you expect from a Rizzali?" said Bobby with a deprecating shrug. He turned to Cartright. "Arthur, I should have bet you on the outcome."

"It was an impressive demonstration," replied Cartright.

"Perhaps we are closer to being your equals than you thought," suggested Bobby with a sly grin.

"Well, you certainly are in the boxing ring," agreed Cartright. "This Labu's like some kind of primal force."

"And outside the boxing ring?" persisted Bobby. "Have you given any thought to what we were discussing earlier?"

"Some," answered Cartright.

"And?"

"I suppose we should discuss it further."

"Excellent, my friend!" said Bobby, signaling a waiter. "Have another cognac."

"I don't mind if I do," said Cartright, holding out his glass while the uniformed jason carefully filled it.

"And what shall we toast?" asked Bobby.

"That seems obvious," answered Cartright. "To Gama Labu. I expect to hear a lot more of him in the future."

"Oh, I'm sure you will," said Emperor Bobby.

I hope not,
thought Beddoes.

4.

The Republic gave Faligor 30 years in which to raise its productivity and economy and literacy rate to the level at which it would be invited to join as a full member, following the necessary plebiscite among its inhabitants. Emperor Bobby thought it was far too long; Beddoes thought it was half a century too short; but Cartright, who had negotiated it with his superiors in the government, thought it was just about right, and so the decree came down.

Despite Bobby's impatience, a lot of work remained to be done to prepare Faligor for its entry into the Republic as a free and independent world, and first on the agenda was the formation of a planetary government. Given the literacy rate, an election would have been counter-productive, so Cartright, upon the advice of his aides, decreed that the Sitate Robert August Tantram II was the provisional president of the world. Free to form his own cabinet, Bobby filled the sixteen positions with one member each of the Traja, the Rizzali, and the Bolimbo, and thirteen Enkoti.

It was at that point that Cartright intervened and insisted upon a more equitable distribution of political power. Bobby countered, not unreasonably, that if Cartright could find, for example, a Rizzali or a Traja who knew more about agricultural production or economics than his Secretaries of Agriculture and the Treasury, he would be happy to replace them. They laboriously went through a list compiled by the other tribes, and finally came up with a cabinet composed of ten Enkoti and six non-Enkoti.

This did not sit well with the other tribes, but then Cartright and Bobby made a joint pronouncement that within five years the cabinet would be representative of the population as a whole, and that in the meantime it was essential that the tribes send their best and their brightest to Sabare University in Romulus. And, since it had been decreed not only by the President, but even more importantly, by the Men who gave him his orders, they had no choice but to comply.

The next problem was the moles, which proved not to be a problem at all. Most of them had signed three and five-year contracts, and when the contracts were up, about half of them elected not to renew them, though most of them chose to remain on the planet, and many sent for their families (which, in mole society, could number up to fifty.) At first Cartright feared that supporting them would put an unnecessary financial burden on the planet and cause resentment among the jasons, but the moles had no intention of not supporting themselves, or of competing with the jasons for various menial jobs. With the advent of a monied economy, there was an urgent need for shopkeepers, and the moles soon were entrenched as Faligor's merchant class, setting up shops in all the major population centers and even out in the hinterlands, importing goods not just from their own world but from many of the nearby worlds of the Republic, and indeed forming the tax base from which the planetary government drew most of its revenues. They were a serious, industrious race, and as the jasons, faced with the absence of a barter economy, began applying for work in the mines, more and more of the moles joined their brethren in the merchant sector.

As tourism boomed, the last few private hunting preserves were banned, and off-worlders arrived with nothing but holographic cameras instead of weapons. The five major game reserves, run primarily by fanatically dedicated Men and assisted by jasons, soon began pulling business away from Peponi and even Serengeti. Luxury lodges accommodated the visitors, and it was said that there was no planet in the galaxy that could match the richness of Faligor's wildlife.

Bobby began spending more time on other worlds, ostensibly to solicit investment in Faligor, though he spent more time playing than working, but as Cartright noted, it was probably for the best, since it forced the government to function without him, and he had never been overly interested in the workings of government to begin with.

And, a handful of years after they left the planet for schooling within the Republic, a number of the jasons returned home. Most of them were Enkoti, but a few of them weren't, and of that few, the most brilliant of them was a middle-aged jason who had taken the human name of William to go with his tribal name of Barioke. He was a Rizzali, and unlike most of the others of his race, he had gone to school not on a human world, but rather on the world of Canphor VI, which over the millennia had revolted three different times against human rule, and was currently the leader of a loosely-knit federation of non-human worlds that had ceased all intercourse with the Republic.

Whereas Emperor Bobby wanted nothing more than to join the Republic as a full partner, William Barioke wanted total independence from the Republic. He had no intention of turning down any aid the Republic might continue to give, he didn't want to break off relations with it, but he found the status of Protectorate to be demeaning, and the advantages of being a member world to be minimal. He had made contacts within the Canphorites, and saw no reason not to deal with both sides; he would let the Republic and the Canphor Federation bid for his loyalty (which, as he explained to his people, was never for sale, a fact that he felt would in no way inhibit the bidding.)

The one thing on which Barioke and Bobby were in total agreement was that Men had totally underestimated their ability to handle their own affairs. Barioke saw no reason to allow Men to assist in the running of Faligor's affairs. After all, he argued, the ultimate goal of everyone involved, whether the planet became a member of the Republic or an independent entity, was self-rule, and the sooner it was begun the better. He lobbied the Rizzali, he lobbied the rest of the jasons, he lobbied the Men who lived and worked on the planet, he even lobbied the moles—but most of all, he lobbied Emperor Bobby.

Finally, Bobby agreed to make two public appearances with Barioke, in both of which he gave his approval to the notion of immediate self-rule, which was followed by Barioke's impassioned oratory. It was after the second rally that Beddoes requested an audience with him.

It took her a week to be ushered into his presence, since he had been spent the intervening days partying on nearby Beta Lemoris III, but finally she found herself sitting across a desk from the Emperor, who looked none the worse for wear for all the traveling he had done lately. From the paintings and holographs on the wall, the shape of the desk and chairs, the carpeting on the floor, she would never have guessed that she was in an alien's office had she not known otherwise.

"How nice to see you again, Susan," said Bobby, his golden fur rippling as he shot her an ingratiating smile. "How goes your insect collecting?"

I'll give you this: you're every inch a politician, she thought, not without a touch of admiration.

"Arthur Cartright has asked me to speak to you, your majesty," she replied.

"And how is my old friend Arthur doing?" he asked. "I haven't seen him for months."

"He's very busy these days," she replied. "We've opened up another dozen mining worlds this year."

"Tell him to come to Faligor for a vacation," suggested Bobby.

"Faligor is never far from his mind," answered Beddoes. "In fact, I'm here at his request."

"Ah," he said, and suddenly his face looked more like an unhappy puppy than a jason or a Man. "The speeches."

"He feels that you're giving your people expectations that cannot be realized," said Beddoes.

"Ever?" asked Bobby sharply.

"In the immediate future," said Beddoes. "Furthermore, you have aligned yourself with a very capable politician who has no desire whatsoever to join the Republic."

"He's just a Rizzali rabble-rouser," replied Bobby, with a shrug—unique to his species—that started at his cranium and slowly rippled his golden fleece all the way down to his three-toed feet.

"Then why associate with him?"

"Because he's a very popular rabble-rouser, and I am the President of all my people."

"He is very dangerous, your majesty," said Beddoes.

"I have every intention of assimilating him into my government, where he will be given some official function and never be heard from again," Bobby assured her. "But in the meantime, he and I happen to agree that things are moving too slowly. We really should not have to come to you, hat in hands, to beg for self-rule. We had it before you landed on our planet. We never gave it away, so why should we have to debase ourselves to get it back?"

"I fail to see how educating your people, expanding your economy, vaccinating your children, and showing you how best to make use of your natural resources constitutes debasement," said Beddoes.

"I don't doubt that you fail to see it," responded Bobby. "Probably this is because no one has ever given your race orders."

"Everything we have suggested—and we have suggested, not ordered—has been for Faligor's benefit, your majesty."

"Nevertheless, we resent being denied self-rule. On that point, Barioke and I think as one."

"It is possible that the length of time you remain a protectorate can be shortened," said Beddoes, "but not if you ally yourself with Barioke."

"He is a very astute political thinker," said Bobby.

"He's too smart by half."

"He frightens you, does he?" asked Bobby, amused.

"Nothing frightens the Republic," answered Susan. "But he should frighten you, your majesty."

Bobby laughed again. "He is just a Rizzali."

"You know that the size of the Rizzali army has tripled since he returned from the Canphor system."

"All of the countries of Faligor have armies," said Bobby dismissively.

"Why?" asked Beddoes. "The jasons only own seven spaceships, and four of them are yours. What worlds do you plan to go to war with?"

"Let me assuage your doubts, Susan," said Bobby with a smile. "The armies are just for show, and to protect our territorial borders. As for the Rizzali army, it is a joke, commanded by the biggest clown of all."

"Prego Katora is no clown," Beddoes pointed out. "He graduated from one of the finest military academies on Deluros VIII."

"Prego Katora no longer commands the Rizzali army," answered Bobby.

"No?"

"Do you remember the boxing match I sponsored some time back?"

"Yes," said Beddoes warily. "What of it?"

"Do you remember Gama Labu, the jason who beat your champion?"

"Yes."

"Well, it is Labu, with the body of a self-indulgent giant and the intellect of a child, who is now in charge of Barioke's army." Bobby threw back his head and laughed. "Labu, who cannot even spell his name! If you were to tell him the enemy was gathering to the east, he would probably launch an attack on the Hills of Heaven. Now do you see why Barioke does not worry me?"

"I think you have more to fear than you realize, your majesty," said Beddoes sincerely.

"Because of Labu?" he said disbelievingly.

"There is something frightening about him," said Beddoes. "Something alien."

"Am I not an alien to you?" asked Bobby, amused.

"We are different species, but we hold certain basic principles in common. I think there is something about Gama Labu that is alien to all those things that we both cherish."

"And you base this on the fact that you saw him beat a human fighter in the ring?"

She shook her head. "No," she said slowly. "It is just a feeling I have about him."

"He is a clown," reasserted Bobby. "A great big clown. Always telling jokes, always drinking, always laughing loudest when he is the object of other people's jokes. He became a hero overnight when he defeated Billy Wycynski, and that doubtless caused his elevation to his current position, but nothing could be better for my purposes. In effect, it renders the Rizzali army useless. I will appropriate as much of William Barioke's support as I can, elevate him to a government position where I can control him, disband his army, and steer my people on a swift course that will culminate in self-rule."