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us."
Underhill grinned. "So the base-the man-hour unit-had gone cockeyed. One little monkey
wrench, thrown where it'll do the most good. It's spreading, too. Not only Vyring. The
news is going all over Venus, and the workers in the other cities are asking why half of
Vyring's laborers should get better pay. That's where the equal standard of exchange helps
us-one monetary system all over Venus. Nothing has ever been off par here for centuries.
Now-"
Munn said, "Now the system's toppling. It's a natural fault in a perfectly integrated, rigid
set-up. For want of a nail the tarkomars are losing their grip. They've forgotten how to
adjust."
"It'll spread," Underhill said confidently. "It'll spread. Steve, here comes another
customer."
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Underhill was wrong. Jorust and the Vyring tarkomar leader came in. "May you be worthy
of your ancestors' names," Munn said politely. "Drag up a chair and have a drink. We've
still got a few bulbs of beer left."
Jorust obeyed, but the Venusian rocked on his feet and glowered. The woman said, "Malsi
is distressed. These Power Pills are causing trouble."
"I don't know why," Munn said. "They increase production, don't they?"
Malsi grimaced. "This is a trick! A stratagem! You are abusing our hospitality!"
"What hospitality?" Bronson wanted to know.
"You threatened the system," Malsi plunged on doggedly. "On Venus there is no change.
There must be none."
"Why not?" Underhill asked. "There's only one real reason, and you know it. Any advances
might upset the tarkoinars-threaten the power they hold. You racketeers have had the
whip hand for centuries. You've suppressed inventions, kept Venus in a backwater, tried to
drive initiative out of the race, just so you could stay on top. It can't be done. Changes
happen; they always do. If we hadn't come, there'd have been an internal explosion
eventually."
Malsi glared at him. "You will stop making these Power Pills."
"Point of law," Thirkell said softly. "Show precedent."
Jorust said, "The right of free gift is one of the oldest on Venus. That law could be changed,
Malsi, but I don't think the people would like it."
Munn grinned. "No. They wouldn't. That would be the tipoff. Venusians have learned it's
possible to make more money. Take that chance away from them, and the tarko mars
won't be the benevolent rulers any more."
Malsi turned darker green. 'We have power-"
"Jorust, you're an administrator. Are we protected by your laws?" Underhill asked.
She moved her shoulders. "Yes, you are. The laws are sacrosanct. Perhaps because they
have always been designed to protect the tarkomars."
Malsi swung towards her. "Are you siding with the Earthmen?"
"Why, of course not, Malsi. I'm merely upholding the law, according to my oath of office.
Without prejudice-that's it, isn't it?"
Munn said, 'We'll stop making the Power Pills if you like, but I warn you that it's only a
respite. You can't halt progress."
Malsi seemed unconvinced. "You'll stop?"
"Sure. If you pay us."
"We cannot pay you," Malsi said stubbornly. "You belong to no tarho-mar. It would be
illegal."
Jorust murmured, "You might give them a free gift of-say-ten thousand sofals."
"Ten thousand!" Malsi yelped. "Ridiculous!"
"So it is," Underhill said. "Fifty thousand is more like it. We can live well for a year on
that."
A Venusian came to the valve, peeped in and said: "I made twice as many difals today. May
I have another Power Pill?" He saw Malsi and vanished with a small shriek.
Munn shrugged. "Suit yourself. Pay up, or we go on handing out Power Pills-and you'll
have to adjust a rigid social economy. I don't think you can do it."
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Jorust touched Malsi's arm. "There is no other way."
"I-" The Venusian by now was almost black with impotent rage. "All right," he capitulated,
spitting the words between his teeth. "I won't forget this, Jorust."
"But I must administer the laws," the woman said. "Why, Malsi! The rule of the tarkoinars
has always been unswerving honesty."
Malsi didn't answer. He scribbled a credit check for fifty thousand sofals, validated it and
gave the tag to Munn. After that he sent a parting glare around the cabin and stamped out.
"Well!" Bronson said. "Fifty grand! Tonight we eat!"
"May you be worthy of your fathers' names," Jorust murmured. At the valve she turned.
"I'm afraid you've upset Malsi."
"Too bad," Munn said hypocritically.
Jorust moved her shoulders slightly. "Yes. You've upset Malsi. And Malsi represents the
tarko-mars-"
"What can he do about it?" Underhill asked.
"Nothing. The laws won't let him. But-it's nice to know the tarkomars aren't infallible. I
think the word will get around."
Jorust winked gravely at Munn and departed, looking as innocent as a cat, and as
potentially dangerous.
'Well!" Munn said. "What does that mean? The end of the tarkomar's rule, maybe?"
"Maybe," Bronson said. "I don't give a damn. I'm hungry and I want a beefsteak-
mushroom. Where can we cash a check for fifty grand?"
COLD WAR
Chapter i. Last of the Pughs
I'll never have a cold in the haid again without I think of little Junior Pugh. Now there was
a repulsive brat if ever I saw one. Built like a little gorilla, he was. Fat, pasty face, mean
look, eyes so close together you could poke 'em both out at once with one finger. His paw
thought the world of him though. Maybe that was natural, seeing as how little Junior was
the image of his pappy.
"The last of the Pughs," the old man used to say stickin' his chest out and beamin' down at
the little gorilla. "Finest little lad that ever stepped."
It made my blood run cold sometimes to look at the two of 'em together. Kinda sad, now,
to think back to those happy days when I didn't know either of 'em. You may not believe it
but them two Pughs, father and son, between 'em came within that much of conquerin' the
world.
Us Hogbens is quiet folks. We like to keep our heads down and lead quiet lives in our own
little valley, where nobody comes near withouten we say so. Our neighbors and the folks in
the village are used to us by now. They know we try hard not to act conspicuous. They
make allowances.
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