by C. C. Beck
about it, definitely killed. There aregoing to be a lot of people on New Delos wondering how it can be that animmortal God-King can die."
"And Sid thinks it's Tommy Paine's work?"
She shifted dainty shoulders in a shrug. "It's the sort of thing he does.I suppose we'll learn when we get there."
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Even on the fast Space Forces cruiser, the trip was going to take a week,and there was precious little Ronny Bronston could do until arrival. Hespent most of his time reading up on New Delos and the several otherplanets in the UP organization which had fairly similar regimes. More thana few theocracies had come and gone during the history of man'sdevelopment into the stars.
He also spent considerable time playing Battle Chess or talking with Togand with the ship's officers.
These latter were a dedicated group, high in morale, enthusiastic abouttheir work which evidently involved the combined duties of a Navy, a CoastGuard, and a Coast and Geodetic Survey system, if we use the ocean goingservices of an earlier age for analogy.
They all had the dream. The enthusiasm of men participating in a race'sexpansion to glory. There was the feeling, even stronger here in spacethan back on Earth, of man's destiny being fulfilled, that humanity hadfinally emerged from its infancy, that the fledgling had finally found itswings and got off the ground.
After one of his studying binges, Ronny Bronston had spent an hour or soonce with the captain of the craft, while that officer stood an easy watchon the ship's bridge. There was little enough to do in space, practicallynothing, but there was always an officer on watch.
They leaned back in the acceleration chairs before the ship's controls andRonny listened to the other's space lore. Stories of far planets, as yetuntouched. Stories of planets that had seemingly been suitable forcolonization, but had proved disastrous for man, for this reason or that.
Ronny said, "And never in all this time have we run into a life form thathas proved intelligent?"
Captain Woiski said, "No. Not that I know of. There was an animal onShangri-La of about the mental level of the chimpanzee. So far as I know,that's the nearest to it."
"Shangri-La?" Ronny said. "That's a new one."
There was an affectionate gleam in the captain's eye. "Yes," he said. "Ifand when I retire, I think that'd be the planet of my choice, if I couldget permission to leave Earth, of course."
Ronny scowled in attempted memory. "Now that you mention it, I think I didsee it listed the other day among planets with a theocratic government."
The captain grunted protest. "If you're comparing it to this New Delosyou're going to, you're wrong. There can be theocracy and theocracy, Isuppose. Actually, I imagine Shangri-La has the most, well _gentle_government in the system."
Ronny was interested. His recent studies hadn't led him to much respectfor a priesthood in political power. "What's the particular feature that'sseemed to have gained your regard?"
"Moderation," Woiski chuckled. "They carry it almost to the point ofimmoderation. But not quite. Briefly, it works something like this. Theyhave a limited number of monks--I suppose you'd call them--who spend theirtime at whatever moves them. At the arts, at scientific research, atreligious contemplation--any religion will do--as students of anything andeverything, and at the governing of Shangri-La. They make a point ofenjoying the luxuries in moderation and aren't a severe drain on the rankand file citizens of the planet."
Ronny said, "I have a growing distrust of hierarchies. Who decides who isto become a monk and who remain a member of the rank and file?"
The captain said, "A series of the best tests they can devise to determinea person's intelligence and aptitudes. From earliest youth, the wholepopulace is checked and rechecked. At the age of thirty, when it isconsidered that a person has become adult and has finished his basiceducation, a limited number are offered monkhood. Not all want it."
Ronny thought about it. "Why not? What are the shortcomings?"
The captain shrugged. "Responsibility, I suppose."
"The monks aren't allowed sex, booze, that sort of thing, I imagine."
"Good heavens, why not? In moderation, of course."
"And they live on a higher scale?"
"No, no, not at all. Don't misunderstand. The planet is a prosperous one.Exceedingly prosperous. There is everything needed for comfortableexistence for everyone. Shangri-La is one planet where the pursuit ofhappiness is pursuable by all." Captain Woiski chuckled again.
Ronny said, "It sounds good enough, although I'm leery of benevolentdictatorships. The trouble with them is that it's up to the dictators todecide what's benevolent. And almost always, nepotism rears its head,favoritism of one sort or another. How long will it be before one of yourmoderate monks decides he'll moderately tinker with the tests, orwhatever, just to be sure his favorite nephew makes the grade? A high I.Q.is no guarantee of integrity."
The captain didn't disagree. "That's always possible, I suppose. One guardagainst it, in this case, is the matter of motive. The _privilege_ ofbeing a monk isn't as great as all that. Materially, you aren'tparticularly better off than any one else. You have more leisure, that'strue, but actually most of them are so caught up in their studies orresearch that they put in more hours of endeavor than does the farmer orindustrial worker on Shangri-La."
"Well," Ronny said, "let's just hope that Tommy Paine never hears of thisplace."
"Who?" the captain said.
Ronny Bronston reversed his engines. "Oh, nobody important. A guy I knowof."
Captain Woiski scowled. "Seems to me I've heard the name."
At first Ronny leaned forward with quick interest. Perhaps the cruiser'sskipper had a lead. But, no, he sank back into his chair. That name wasstrictly a Section G pseudonym. No one used it outside the department, andhe'd already said too much by using the term at all.
Ronny said idly, "Probably two different people. I think I'll go on backand see how Tog is doing."
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Tog was at her communicator when he entered the tiny ship's lounge. Ronnycould see in the brilliant little screen of the compact device, thegrinning face of Sid Jakes. Tog looked up at Ronny and smiled, thenclicked the device off.
"What's new?" Ronny said.
She moved graceful shoulders. "I just called Supervisor Jakes. Evidentlythere's complete confusion on New Delos. Mobs are storming the temples. Inthe capital the priests tried to present a new God-King and he was laughedout of town."
Ronny snorted cynically. "Sounds good to me. The more I read about NewDelos and its God-King and his priesthood, the more I think the best thingthat ever happened to the planet was this showing them up."
Tog looked at him, the sides of her mouth tucking down as usual when shewas going to contradict something he said. "It sounds bad to me," shesaid. "Tommy Paine's work is done. He'll be off to some other place and wewon't get there in time to snare him."
Ronny considered that. It was probably true. "I wonder," he said slowly,"if it's possible for us to get a list of all ships that have blasted offsince the assassination, all ships and their destination from New Delos."
The idea grew in him. "Look! It's possible that a dictatorial governmentsuch as theirs would immediately quarantine every spaceport on theplanet."
Tog said, "There's only one spaceport on New Delos. The priesthood didn'tencourage trade or even communication with the outside. Didn't want itspeople contaminated."
"Holy smokes!" Ronny blurted. "It's possible that Tommy Paine's on thatplanet and can't get off. Look, Tog, see if you can raise the Section Grepresentative on New Delos and--"
Tog said demurely, "I already have taken that step, Ronny, knowing thatyou'd want me to. Agent Mouley Hassan has promised to get the name anddestination of every passenger that leaves New Delos."
Ronny sat down at a table and dialed himself a mug of stout. "Drink?" hesaid to Tog. "Possibly we've got something to celebrate."
&nb
sp; She shook her head disapprovingly. "I don't use depressants."
There was nothing more to be discussed about New Delos, they simply wouldhave to wait until their arrival. Ronny switched subjects. "Ever hear ofthe planet Shangri-La?" he asked her. He took a sip of his brew.
"Of course," she said. "A rather small planet, Earth type within fourdegrees. Noted for its near perfect climate and its scenic beauty."
"Captain was talking about it," Ronny said.