No one cared,
except the one person who knew everything about the colonists' plight
and their activities on Vrus and, except his closest aide and immediate
assistants, no one was breathing a word about it. Too much was at stake
for this man; an unblemished political career, an unblemished record on
the Security Corps files ( the S.C. kept files on everyone on the planet
), and above all, money.
Money was the
key to all his dreams ( though most of those had been fulfilled because
he was now at the pinnacle of the industrial power ); all the dreams he
had had as the Supremident of Homeworld. All was in his hands and he
intended to keep it that way, as long as the Justices of Vrus did their
duty he would be proclaimed saviour of the world, having solved both the
massive glut and burden on the state of retrogrades and unemployment,
and the food problem in one fell swoop.
As long as no
one came close to discovering how his position was secured; but already
he flet the tension rising. He knew his industrial political opponents
were breathing down his neck, dogging his tail waiting for any
opportunity to pounce and topple him. Now all they needed was a mistake
but he did not tolerate failure. In any eventuality he could cover his
trail with a hidden fission bomb in one of the pleasure craft that
passed Vrus when the tractor was operative.
'Oh, I hate the
needless loss of life,' murmured Supremident Egost as these horrible
thoughts washed over him. He rubbed his face in his hands and slowly
pulled them down his face taking the sweat with them. It had been a
boringly, sticky hot day in the old office.
Outside, the
claxons were sounding the end of the first twelve hour shift and his day
was over. Above all, the Supremident believed in working as much as
making money. He had clawed his way to the top by working; even if it
was pleasurable, having to step on other people's toes or even stab his
closest friends in the back. But was that not what politics was all
about?
It had been for
centuries; places and situations change but human nature never did. That
was why Quinn and the other Justices worked for him, they enjoyed the
authority they could exercise - and they were rewarded handsomely for
their work but they knew if he was not Supremident they would lose
everything they had.
Suddenly, there was a quiet 'tap'
at the door. Egost looked around the cold grey sparse metallic walls
and centred on the door. 'Come!' He ordered wearily, suppressing the
desire to yawn.
A weasel faced
man entered in a tight fitting dulse brown tunic. He handed over a clip
board to the Supremident and stepped back. He waited, unsmiling and
unfussed.
'Oh, don't be such a bore, Wells. Sit down,' said Egost sounding tired rather than impatient.
aking
their way, with a feverous haste, towards a predetermined location upon
the moorland, the bulk of the Justices were hauling along a large
pyramid-like shape on tiny wheels. It gave out a constant pulsating
bleep.
cross
the space, which the tractor was not pointing to, sat or rather hung
the dim shape of the overpopulated industrial planet, Homeworld.
