by C. C. Beck
history?"
"He wrote a pamphlet during the Revolutionary War, didn't he?"
" 'Common Sense,' " Metaxa nodded. "But he was more than that. He was bornin England but went to America as a young man and his writings probablydid as much as anything to put over the revolt against the British. Butthat wasn't enough. When that revolution was successful he went back toEngland and tried to start one there. The government almost caught him,but he escaped and got to France where he participated in the FrenchRevolution."
"He seemed to get around," Ronny Bronston said.
"And so does this namesake of his. We've been trying to catch up with himfor some twenty years. How long before that he was active, we have no wayof knowing. It was some time before we became aware of the fact that halfthe revolts, rebellions, revolutions and such that occur in the UnitedPlanets have his dirty finger stirring around in them."
"But you said some department members don't believe in his existence."
Metaxa grunted. "They're working on the theory that no one man could doall that Tommy Paine has laid to him. Possibly it's true that he sometimesgets the blame for accomplishments not his. Or, for that matter, possiblyhe's more than one person. I don't know."
"Well," Ronny said hesitantly, "what's an example of his activity?"
Metaxa picked up another report from the confusion of his desk. "Here'sone only a month old. Dictator on the planet Megas. Kidnapped and forcedto resign. There's still confusion but it looks as though a new type ofgovernment will be formed now."
"But how do they know it wasn't just some dissatisfied citizens of Megas?"
"It seems as though the kidnap vehicle was an old fashioned Earth-typehelicopter. There were no such on Megas. So Section G suspects it's apossible Tommy Paine case. We could be wrong, of course. That's why I saythe man's in the way of being a legend. Perhaps the others are right andhe doesn't even exist. I think he does, and if so, it's our job to get himand put him out of circulation."
Ronny said slowly, "But why would that come under our jurisdiction? Itseems to me that it would be up to the police of whatever planet he wason."
Ross Metaxa looked thoughtfully at his brown bottle, shook his head andreturned it to its drawer. He looked at a desk watch. "Don't read into theUnited Planets organization more than there is. It's a fragile institutionwith practically no independent powers to wield. Every member planet isjealous of its prerogatives, which is understandable. It's no mistake thatArticles One and Two are the basic foundation of the Charter. No memberplanet wants to be interfered with by any other or by United Planets as anorganization. They want to be left alone.
"Within our ranks we have planets with every religion known to manthroughout the ages. Everything ranging from primitive animism to the mostadvanced philosophic ethic. We have every political system ever dreamedof, and every socio-economic system. It can all be blamed on the crack-potmanner in which we're colonizing. Any minority, no matter howsmall--religious, political, racial, or whatever--if it can collect thefunds to buy or rent a spacecraft, can dash off on its own, find a newEarth-type planet and set up in business.
"Fine. One of the prime jobs of Section G is to carry out, to enforce,Articles One and Two of the Charter. A planet with Buddhism as its statereligion, doesn't want some die-hard Baptist missionary stirring upcontroversy. A planet with a feudalistic socio-economic systems doesn'twant some hot-shot interplanetary businessman coming in with some big dealthat would eventually cause the feudalistic nobility to be tossed onto theash heap. A planet with a dictatorship doesn't want subversives from somedemocracy trying to undermine their institutions--and vice versa."
"And its our job to enforce all this, eh?" Ronny said.
"That's right," Metaxa told him sourly. "It's not always the nicest job inthe system. However, if you believe in United Planets, an organizationattempting to co-ordinate in such manner as it can, the efforts of itsmember planets, for the betterment of all, then you must accept Section Gand Interplanetary Security."
Ronny Bronston thought about it.
Metaxa added, "That's why one of the requirements of this job is that youyourself be a citizen of United Planets, rather than of any individualplanet, have no religious affiliations, no political beliefs, and noracial prejudices. You've got to be able to stand aloof."
"Yeah," Ronny said thoughtfully.
Ross Metaxa looked at his watch again and sighed wearily. "I'll turn youover to one of my assistants," he said. "I'll see you again, though,before you leave."
"Before I leave?" Ronny said, coming to his feet. "But where do I startlooking for this Tommy Paine?"
"How the hell would I know?" Ross Metaxa growled.
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In the outer office, Ronny said to the receptionist, "Commissioner Metaxasaid for me to get in touch with Sid Jakes."
She said, "I'm Irene Kasansky. Are you with us?"
Ronny said, "I beg your pardon?"
She said impatiently, "Are you going to be with the Section? If you are,I've got to clear you with your old job. You were in statistics over inNew Copenhagen, weren't you?"
Somehow it seemed far away now, the job he'd held for more than fiveyears. "Oh, yes," he said. "Yes, Commissioner Metaxa has given me anappointment."
She looked up at him. "Probably to look for Tommy Paine."
He was taken aback. "That's right. How did you know?"
"There was talk. This Section is pretty well integrated." She grimaced,but on her it looked good. "One big happy family. High interdepartmentalmorale. That sort of jetsam." She flicked some switches. "You'll findSupervisor Jakes through that door, one to your left, two to your right."
He could have asked one _what_ to his left and two _what_ to his right,but evidently Irene Kasansky thought he had enough information to get himto his destination. She'd gone back to her work.
[Illustration.]
It was one turn to his left and two turns to his right. The door waslettered simply _Sidney Jakes_. He knocked and a voice shouted happily,"It's open. It's always open."
Supervisor Jakes was as informal as his superior. His attire was on thehappy-go-lucky side, more suited for sports wear than a fairly highranking job in the ultra-staid Octagon.
He couldn't have been much older than Ronny Bronston but he had a nervousvitality about him that would have worn out the other in a few hours. Hejumped up and shook hands. "You must be Bronston. Call me Sid." He waved ahand at a typed report he'd been reading. "Now I've seen them all. They'vejust applied for entry to United Planets. Republic. What a name, eh?"
"What?" Ronny said.
"Sit down, sit down." He rushed Ronny to a chair, saw him seated, returnedto the desk and flicked an order box switch. "Irene," he said, "do up abadge for Ronny, will you? You've got his code, haven't you? Good. Send itover. Bronze, of course."
Sid Jakes turned back to Ronny and grinned at him. He motioned to thereport again. "What a name for a planet. Republic. Bunch of screw-balls,again. Out in the vicinity of Sirius. Based their system on Plato's_Republic_. Have to go the whole way. Don't even speak Basic. Certainlynot. They speak Ancient Greek. That's going to be a neat trick, findinginterpreters. How'd you like the Old Man?"
Ronny said, dazed at the conversational barrage, "Old Man? Oh, you meanCommissioner Metaxa."
"Sure, sure," Sid grinned, perching himself on the edge of the desk. "Didhe give you that drink of tequila during working hours routine? He'd liketo poison every new agent we get. What a character."
The grin was infectious. Ronny said carefully, "Well, I did think hismethod of hiring a new man was a little--cavalier."
"Cavalier, yet," Sid Jakes chortled. "Look, don't get the Old Man wrong.He knows what he's doing. He always knows what he's doing."
"But he took me on after only two or three minutes conversation."
Jakes cocked his head to one side. "Oh? You think so? When did you firstapply for interplanetary assignment, Ronny?"
"I don't know, about three years ago."
Jakes nodded. "Well, depend on it, you've been under observation for thatlength of time. At any one period, Section G is investigating possibly athousand potential agents. We need men but qualifications are high."
He hopped down from his position, sped around to the other side of thedesk and lowered himself into his chair. "Don't get the wrong