by C. C. Beck
all ways from the middle,nor did it take long. There was no doubt. If this was a Tommy Paine job,and it almost surely was, then there was only one way in which he couldhave escaped from the planet and that was by the single spacecraft thathad left, destination Avalon. He was not on the planet, that was definiteRonny felt. A stranger on New Delos was as conspicuous as a walrus in agoldfish bowl. There simply were no such.
They spent most of their time checking and rechecking United Planetspersonnel, but there was no question there either.
Mouley Hassan and others of UP personnel helped cut the red tape involvedin getting exit visas from New Delos. It wasn't as complicated as it mighthave been a week or two before. No one seemed to be so confident of hisauthority in the new provisional government that he dared veto a UnitedPlanets request.
Mouley Hassan was able to arrange for a small space yacht, slower than amilitary craft, but capable of getting them to Avalon in a few days time.A one-man crew was sufficient, Ronny, and especially Tog, could spell himon the watches.
Time aboard was spent largely in studying up on Avalon, going over andover again anything known about the elusive Tommy Paine, and playingBattle Chess and bickering with Tog Lee Chang Chu.
If it hadn't been for this ability to argue against just about anythingRonny managed to say, he could have been attracted to her to the detrimentof the job. She was a good traveler, few people are; she was anultra-efficient assistant; she was a joy to look at; and she neverintruded. But, Great Guns, the woman could bicker.
The two of them were studying in the ship's luxurious lounge when Ronnylooked up and said, "Do you have any idea why those six agents were sentto Avalon?"
"No," she said.
He indicated the booklet he was reading. "From what I can see here, itsounds like one of the most advanced planets in the UP. They've made someof the most useful advances in industrial techniques of the past century."
"Oh, I don't know," Tog mused. "I haven't much regard for IndustrialFeudalism myself. It starts off with a bang, but tends to go sterile."
"Industrial feudalism," he said indignantly. "What do you mean? Thegovernment is a constitutional monarchy with the king merely a powerlesssymbol. The standard of living is high. Elections are honest anddemocratic. They've got a three-party system...."
"Which is largely phony," Tog interrupted. "You've got to do some readingbetween the lines, especially when the books you're reading are turned outby the industrial feudalistic publishing companies in Avalon."
"What's this industrial feudalism, you keep talking about? Avalon has asystem of free enterprise."
"A gobbledygook term," Tog said, irritatingly. "Industrial feudalism is asocio-economic system that develops when industrial wealth is concentratedinto the hands of a comparatively few families. It finally gets to thepoint of a closed circle all but impossible to break into. Theseindustrial feudalistic families become so powerful that only in rareinstances can anyone lift himself into their society. They dominate everyfield, including the so-called labor unions, which amount to one of thebiggest businesses of all. With their unlimited resources they even ownevery means of dispensing information."
"You mean," Ronny argued, "that on Avalon you can't start up a newspaperof your own and say whatever you wish?"
"Certainly you can, theoretically. If you have the resources.Unfortunately, such enterprises become increasingly expensive to start. Oryou could start a radio, TV or Tri-Di station--if you had the resources.However, even if you overcame all your handicaps and your newspaper orbroadcasting station became a success, the industrial feudalistic familiesin control of Avalon's publishing and broadcasting fields have the endlessresources to buy you out, or squeeze you out, by one nasty means oranother."
Ronny snorted. "Well, the people must be satisfied or they'd vote somefundamental changes."
Tog nodded. "They're satisfied, and no wonder. Since childhood every meansof forming their opinions have been in the hands of industrial feudalisticfamilies--including the schools."
"You mean the schools are private?"
"No, they don't have to be. The government is completely dominated by thefifty or so families which for all practical purposes own Avalon. Thatincludes the schools. Some of the higher institutions of learning areprivate, but they, too, are largely dependent upon grants from thefamilies."
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Ronny was irritated by her know-all air. He tapped the book he'd beenreading with a finger. "They don't control the government. Avalon's got athree-party system. Any time the people don't like the government, theycan vote in an alternative."
"That's an optical illusion. There are three parties, but each isdominated by the fifty families, and election laws are such that for allpractical purposes it's impossible to start another party. Theoreticallyit's possible, actually it isn't. The voters can vary back and forthbetween the three political parties but it doesn't make any differencewhich one they elect. They all stand for the same thing--a continuation ofthe status quo."
"Then you claim it isn't democracy at all?"
Tog sighed. "That's a much abused word. Actually, pure democracy is seldomseen. They pretty well had it in primitive society where government wasbased on the family. You voted for one of your relatives in your clan torepresent you in the tribal councils. Every one in the tribe was equal sofar as apportionments of the necessities of life were concerned. No one,even the tribal chiefs, ate better than anyone else, no one had a betterhome."
Ronny said, snappishly, "And if man had remained at that level, we'd neverhave gotten anywhere."
"That's right," she said. "For progress, man needed a leisure class.Somebody with the time to study, to experiment, to work things out."
He said, "We're getting away from the point. You said in spite ofappearances they don't have democracy on Avalon."
"They have a pretense of it. But only free men can practice democracy. Solong as your food, clothing and shelter are controlled by someone else,you aren't free. Wait until I think of an example." She put her rightforefinger to her chin, thoughtfully.
Holy smokes, she was a cute trick. If only she wasn't so confoundedirritating.
Tog said, "Do you remember the State of California in Earth history?"
"I think so. On the west coast of North America."
"That's right. Well, back in the Twentieth Century, Christian calendar,they had an economic depression. During it a crackpot organization calledThirty Dollars Every Thursday managed to get itself on the ballot. Timeswere bad enough but had this particular bunch got into power it would havebecome chaotic. At first no thinking person took them seriously, however amajority of people in California at that time had little to lose and inthe final week or so of the election campaign the polls showed that ThirtyDollars Every Thursday was going to win. So, a few days before voting manyof the larger industries and businesses in the State ran full page ads inthe newspapers. They said substantially the same thing. _If Thirty DollarsEvery Thursday wins this election, our concern will close its doors. Donot bother to come back to work Monday._"
Ronny was scowling at her. "What's your point?"
She shrugged delicate shoulders. "The crackpots were defeated, of course,which was actually good for California. But my point is that the voters ofCalifornia were not actually free since their livelihoods were controlledby others. This is an extreme case, of course, but the fact alwaysapplies."
A thought suddenly hit Ronny Bronston. "Look," he said. "Tommy Paine. Doyou think he's merely escaping from New Delos, or is it possible thatAvalon is his next destination? Is he going to try and overthrow thegovernment there?"
She was shaking her head, but frowning. "I don't think so. Things arequite stable on Avalon."
"Stable?" he scowled at her. "From what you've been saying, they're prettybad."
She continued to shake her head. "Don't misunderstand, Ronny. On anassignment like this, it's easy to get the impression that all the UnitedPlanets are in a state o
f socio-political confusion, but it isn't so. Asmall minority of planets are ripe for the sort of trouble Tommy Painestirs up. Most are working away, developing, making progress, slowlyevolving. Avalon is one of these. The way things are there, Tommy Painecouldn't make a dent on changing things, even if he wanted to, and there'sno particular reason to believe he does."
Ronny growled. "From what I can learn of the guy he's anxious to stir uptrouble wherever he goes."
"I don't know. If there's any pattern at all in his activities, it seemsto be that he picks