by C. C. Beck
place. One of the few anarchist societies in UP. You don'thear much from them." He turned to Ronny again. "I think that's your bet.Hop to it, boy. We're going to catch this Tommy Paine guy, ororganization, or whatever, soon or United Planets is going to know it. Wecan't keep the lid on indefinitely. If word gets around of his activities,then we'll lose member planets like Christmas trees shedding needles afterNew Year's." He grinned widely. "That's sounds like a neat trick, eh?"
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Ronny Bronston had got to the point where he avoided controversialsubjects with Tog even when provoked and she had a sneaky little way ofprovoking arguments. They had only one really knock down and drag-outverbal battle on the way to Kropotkin.
It had started innocently enough after dinner on the space liner on whichthey had taken passage for the first part of the trip. To kill time theywere playing Battle Chess with its larger board and added contingents ofpawns and castles.
Ronny said idly, "You know, in spite of the fact that I'm a thirdgeneration United Planets citizen and employee, I'm just beginning torealize how far out some of our member planets are. I had no idea before."
She frowned in concentration, before moving. She was advancing her men inechelon attack, taking losses in exchange for territory and trying to penhim up in such small space that he couldn't maneuver.
She said, "How do you mean?"
Ronny lifted and dropped a shoulder. "Well, New Delos and its theocracy,for instance, and Shangri-La and Mother and some of the other planets withextremes in government of socio-economic system. I hadn't the vaguest ideaabout such places."
She made a deprecating sound. "You should see Amazonia, or, for thatmatter, the Orwellian State."
"_Amazonia_," he said, "does that mean what it sounds like it does?"
She made her move and settled back in satisfaction. Her pawns were in suchposition that his bishops were both unusable. He'd tried to play a phalanxgame in the early stages of her attack, but she'd broken through, rollingup his left flank after sacrificing a castle and a knight.
"Certainly does," she said. "A fairly recently colonized planet. A fewthousand feminists no men at all--moved onto it a few centuries ago. Andit's still an out and out matriarchy."
Ronny cleared his throat delicately. "Without men ... ah, how did theycontinue several centuries?"
Tog suppressed her amusement. "Artificial insemination, at first, so Iunderstand. They brought their, ah, supply with them. But then there wereboys among the first generation on the new planet and even the Amazoniansweren't up to cold bloodedly butchering their children. So they merelyenslaved them. Nice girls."
Ronny stared at her. "You mean all men are automatically slaves on thisplanet?"
"That's right."
Ronny made an improperly thought out move, trying to bring up a castle toreinforce his collapsing flank. He said, "UP allows _anybody_ to joinevidently," and there was disgust in his voice.
"Why not?" she said mildly.
"Well, there should be _some_ standards."
Tog moved quickly, dominating with a knight several squares he couldn'tafford to lose. She looked up at him, her dark eyes sparking. "The pointof UP is to include all the planets. That way at least conflict can beavoided and some exchange of science, industrial techniques and culturalgains take place. And you must remember that while in power practically nosocio-economic system will admit to the fact that it could possibly changefor the better. But actually there is nothing less stable. Socio-economicsystems are almost always in a condition of flux. Planets such as Amazoniamight for a time seem so brutal in their methods as to exclude their rightto civilized intercourse with the rest. However, one of these daysthere'll be a change--or one of these centuries. They all change, sooner orlater." She added softly, "Even Han."
"Han?" Ronny said.
Her voice was quiet. "Where I was born, Ronny. Colonized from China in thevery early days. In fact, I spent my childhood in a commune." She saidmusingly, "The party bureaucrats thought their system an impregnable,unchangeable one. Your move."
Ronny was fascinated. "And what happened?" He was in full retreat now, andwith nowhere to go, his pieces pinned up for the slaughter. He moved apawn to try and open up his queen.
"Why don't you concede?" she said. "Tommy Paine happened."
"Paine!"
"Uh-huh. It's a long story. I'll tell you about it some time." She pressedcloser with her own queen.
He stared disgustedly at the board. "Well, that's what I mean," hemuttered. "I had no idea there were so many varieties of crackpotpolitico-economic systems among the UP membership."
"They're not necessarily crackpot," she protested mildly. "Just atdifferent stages of development."
"Not crackpot!" he said. "Here we are heading for a planet named Kropotkinwhich evidently practices anarchy."
"Your move," she said. "What's wrong with anarchism?"
He glowered at her, in outraged disgust. Was it absolutely impossible forhim to say anything without her disagreement?
Tog said mildly, "The anarchistic ethic is one of the highest man has everdeveloped." She added, after a moment of pretty consideration."Unfortunately, admittedly, it hasn't been practical to put to practice.It will be interesting to see how they have done on Kropotkin."
"Anarchist ethic, yes," Ronny snapped. "I'm no student of the movement butthe way I understand it, there isn't any."
Tog smiled sweetly. "The belief upon which they base their teachings isthat no man is capable of judging another."
Ronny cast his eyes ceilingward. "O.K., I give up!"
She began rapidly resetting the pieces. "Another game?" she said brightly.
"Hey! I didn't mean the game! I was just about to counterattack."
"Ha!" she said.
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The Section G agent on Kropotkin was named Hideka Yamamoto, but he was ona field tour and wouldn't be back for several days. However, there wasn'tespecially any great hurry so far as Ronny Bronston and Tog Lee Chang Chuknew. They got themselves organized in the rather rustic equivalent of ahotel, which was located fairly near UP headquarters, and took up theusual problems of arranging for local exchange, meals, means oftransportation and such necessities.
It was a greater problem than usual. In fact, hadn't it been for thepresence of the UP organization, which had already gone through all thisthe hard way, some of the difficulties would have been all butinsurmountable.
For instance, there was no local exchange. There was no medium of exchangeat all. Evidently simple barter was the rule.
In the hotel--if it could be called a hotel--lobby, Ronny Bronston looked atTog. "Anarchism!" he said. "Oh, great. The highest ethic of all. Andwhat's the means of transportation on this wonderful planet? The horse.And how are we going to get a couple of horses with no means of exchange?"
She tinkled laughter.
"All right," he said. "You're the Man Friday. You find out the details andhandle them. I'm going out to take a look around the town--if you can callthis a town."
"It's the capital of Kropotkin," Tog said placatingly, though with amocking background in her tone. "Name of Bakunin. And very pleasant, too,from what little I've seen. Not a bit of smog, industrial fumes, streetdirt, street noises--"
"How could there be?" he injected disgustedly. "There isn't any industry,there aren't any cars, and for all practical purposes, no streets. Thehouses are a quarter of a mile or so apart."
She laughed at him again. "City boy," she said. "Go on out there and enjoynature a little. It'll do you good. Anybody who has cooped himself up inthat one big city, Earth, all his life ought to enjoy seeing what thegreat outdoors looks like."
He looked at her and grinned. She was cute as a pixie, and there were notwo ways about that. He wondered for a moment what kind of a wife she'dmake. And then shuddered inwardly. Life would be one big contradiction ofanything he'd managed to get out of his trap.
&n
bsp; He strolled idly along what was little more than a country path and itcame to him that there were probably few worlds in the whole UP where he'dhave been prone to do this within the first few hours he'd been on theplanet. He would have been afraid, elsewhere, of anything from footpads topolice, from unknown vehicles to unknown traffic laws. There was somethingbewildering about being an Earthling and being set down suddenly in NewDelos or on Avalon.
Here, somehow, he already had a feeling of peace.
Evidently, although Bakunin was supposedly a city, its populace tilledtheir fields and provided themselves with their own food. He could see nosigns of stores or warehouses. And the UP building, which was no greatedifice itself, was the only thing in town which looked even remotely likea governmental building.
Bakunin was neat. Clean as a pin, as the expression went. Ronny wasvaguely reminded of a historical Tri-Di romance he'd once seen. It hadbeen laid in ancient times in a community of the Amish in oldPennsylvania.
He approached one of the wooden houses. The things would have beenpriceless on Earth as an antique to be erected as a museum in some crowdedpark. For that matter it would have been priceless for the wood itcontained. Evidently, the planet Kropotkin still had considerable virginforest.
An old-timer smoking a pipe, sat on the cottage's front step. He noddedpolitely.
Ronny stopped. He might as well try to get a little of the feel of theplace. He said courteously, "A pleasant evening."
The old-timer nodded. "As evenings should be after a fruitful day's toil.Sit down, comrade. You must be from the United Planets. Have you ever seenEarth?"
Ronny accepted the invitation and felt a soothing calm descend upon himalmost immediately. An almost disturbingly pleasant calm. He said, "I wasborn on Earth."
"Ai?" the old man said. "Tell me. The books say that Kropotkin is an Earthtype planet within what they call a few degrees. But is it? Is Kropotkintruly like the mother planet?"
Ronny looked about him. He'd seen some of this world as the shuttle rockethad brought them down from the passing liner. The forests, the lakes, therivers, and the great sections untouched by man's hands. Now he saw theareas between homes, the neat fields, the signs of human toil--the toil ofhands, not machines.
"No," he said, shaking his head. "I'm afraid not. This is how Earth mustonce have been. But no longer."
The other nodded. "Our total population is but a few million," he said.Then, "I would like to see the mother planet, but I suppose I nevershall."
Ronny said diplomatically, "I have seen little of Kropotkin thus far but Iam not so sure but that I might not be happy to stay here, rather thanever return to Earth."
The old man knocked the ashes from his pipe by striking it against theheel of a work-gnarled hand. He looked about him thoughtfully and said,"Yes, perhaps you're right. I am an old man and life has been good. Isuppose I should be glad that I'll unlikely live to see Kropotkin change."
"Change? You plan changes?"
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The old man looked at him and there seemed to be a very faint bitterness,politely suppressed. "I wouldn't say _we_ planned them, comrade. Certainlynot we of the older generation. But the trend toward change is already tobe seen by anyone who wishes to look, and our institutions won't long beable to stand. But, of course, if you're from United Planets you wouldknow more of this than I."
"I'm sorry. I don't know what you're talking about."
"You are new indeed on Kropotkin," the old man said. "Just a moment." Hewent into his house and emerged with a small power pack. He indicated itto Ronny Bronston. "This is our destruction," he said.
The Section G agent shook his head, bewildered.
The old-timer sat down again. "My son," he said, "runs the farm now. Sixmonths ago, he traded one of our colts for a small pump, powered by one ofthese. It was little use on my part to argue against the step. The pumpeliminates considerable work at the well and in irrigation."
Ronny still didn't understand.
"The power pack is dead now," the old man said, "and my son needs a newone."
"They're extremely cheap," Ronny said. "An industrialized planet turnsthem out in multi-million amounts at practically no cost."
"We have little with which to trade. A few handicrafts, at most."
Ronny said, "But, good heavens, man, build yourselves a plant tomanufacture power packs. With a population this small, a factory employingno more than half a dozen men could turn out all you need."
The old man was shaking his head. He held up the battery. "This comes fromthe planet Archimedes," he said, "one of the most highly industrialized inthe UP, so I understand. On Archimedes do you know how many persons ittakes to manufacture this power pack?"
[Illustration.]
"A handful to operate the whole factory, Archimedes is fully automated."
The old man was still moving his head negatively. "No. It takes the totalworking population of the planet. How many different metals do you thinkare contained in it, in all? I can immediately see what must be lead andcopper."
Ronny said uncomfortably, "Probably at least a dozen, some in microscopicamounts."
"That's right. So we need a highly developed metallurgical industry beforewe can even begin. Then a developed transportation industry to take metalsto the factory. We need power to run the factory, hydro-electric, solar,or possibly atomic power. We need a tool-making industry to equip thefactory, the transport industry and the power industry. And while the menare employed in these, we need farmers to produce food for them, educatorsto teach them the sciences and techniques involved, and an entertainmentindustry to amuse them in their hours of rest. As their lives become morecomplicated with all this, we need a developed medical industry to keepthem in health."
The old man hesitated for a moment, then said, "And, above all, we need ahighly complicated government to keep all this accumulation of wealth incheck and balance. No. You see, my friend, it takes _social labor_ toproduce products such as this, and thus far we have avoided that onKropotkin. In fact, it was for such avoidance that my ancestors originallycame to this planet."
Ronny said, scowling, "This gets ridiculous. You show me this basicallysimple power pack and say it will ruin your socio-economic system. On theface of it, it's ridiculous."
The old man sighed and looked out over the village unseeingly. "It's notjust that single item, of course. The other day one of my neighbors turnedup with a light bulb with built-in power for a year's time. It is the envyof the unthinking persons of the neighborhood most of whom would give agreat deal for such a source of light. A nephew of mine has somehow evenacquired a powered bicycle, I think you call them, from somewhere orother. One by one, item by item, these products of advanced technologyturn up--from whence, we don't seem to be able to find out."
Under his breath, Ronny muttered, "_Paine!_"
"I beg your pardon," the old man said.
"Nothing," the Section G agent said. He leaned forward and, a worriedfrown working its way over his face, began to question the other moreclosely.
Afterwards, Ronny Bronston strode slowly toward the UP headquarters. Therewas only a small contingent of United Planets personnel on this littlepopulated member planet but, as always, there seemed to be an office forSection G.
Ronny stood outside it for a moment. There were voices from within, but hedidn't knock.
In fact, he cast his eyes up and down the short corridor. At the far endwas a desk with a girl in the Interplanetary Cultural Exchange Departmentworking away in concentration. She wasn't looking in his direction.
Ronny Bronston put his ear to the door. The building was primitive enough,rustic enough in its construction, to permit his hearing.
Tog Lee Chang Chu was saying seriously, "Oh, it was chaotic all right, butno, I don't really believe it could have been a Tommy Paine case. ActuallyI'd suggest to you that you run over to Catalina. When I was on Avalon Iheard rumors that Tommy Pain
e's finger seemed to be stirring around in themess there. Yes, I'd recommend that you take off for Catalina immediately.If Paine is anywhere in this vicinity at all, it would be Catalina."
For a moment, Ronny Bronston froze. Then in automatic reflex his hand wentinside his jacket to rest over the butt of the Model H automatic there.
No, that wasn't the answer. His hand dropped away from the gun.
He listened, further.
Another voice was saying, "We thought we were on the trail for a while onHector, but it turned out it wasn't Paine. Just a group of local agitatorsfed up with the communist regime there. There's going to be a blood bathon Hector, before they're through, but it doesn't seem to be Paine's workthis time."
Tog's voice was musing. "Well, you never know, it sounds like the sort ofmuck he likes to play in."
The strange voice said argumentatively, "Well, Hector _needs_ a fewfundamental changes."
"It could be," Tog said, "but that's their internal affairs, of course.Our job in Section G is to prevent troubles between the differingsocio-economic and religious features of member