Shining Steel

He could stand the suspense no longer. “Get me a line to the ship,” he told the wall.

“ITD Vessel Clydesdale,” a woman's voice answered.

“This is John Mercy; can you tell me whether Mr. Blessing's replacement is aboard?"

There was a moment's hesitation before the woman answered, “Mr. Mercy, I'm just the pilot; they don't tell me what's going on, they just tell me where to put the ship. We have a company executive aboard, but I have no idea whether he's anybody's replacement."

“Oh."

“He'll be debarking in a minute; why don't you come ask him in person?"

“Thanks, I'll do that."

His duties did not ordinarily include meeting new arrivals, but this was a special case; he stood, slapped his belt to be sure his communicator was working, and headed for the field.

By the time he stepped out onto the concrete crates were unloading themselves, sliding out through the upper hatchways and neatly stacking themselves on the waiting cargo platform. Most of the goods would have to be transferred to other containers before sale-Godsworlders were still uncomfortable around machinery that needed no human direction, and besides, the crate's brains were worth reusing.

The lower passenger hatchway was open, and three people had emerged. Two of them were ordinary ship's perso

“Hlo and j'sevyu,” John said, extending a hand, “Welcome to Godsworld."

“Hlo,” the stranger replied. “I'm Colin Szebenyi."

“John Mercy, director of pla

“Ah! Good, good-glad to meet you."

“Mr. Seven-Ye…"

“Szebenyi."

“Szebenyi, yes. Mr. Szebenyi, I won't waste any time; why are you here? Are you Mr. Blessing's replacement?"

“Direct, aren't you? Is that the local custom, or is it just you?"

“A little of both.” John noticed that Szebenyi had not answered the question.

“Ah. Well, yes. I'm here to evaluate the situation; the development committee has given me free rein. If I think it's necessary, I have the authority to take over here and run things myself, but I don't plan to-and I don't want to, either. Does that ease your mind?"

John smiled. “Yes, it does. What can I do for you?"

“Take me to Blessing, first off."

Three hours later, as Christmas Day was fading with the setting of the sun into New Year's Eve, John, Blessing, Szebenyi, Premosila, and Kwam? were gathered around the table in Blessing's office.

“It looks good,” Szebenyi said.

“Thank you, sir,” Blessing replied.

“You've got an outlet within ten kilometers of every village on the planet that's not exclusive to Bechtel-Rand, is that right?"

“Yes, sir."

“You've got regular air freight ru

“Yes."

“Stable currency?"

“Yes."

“You're buying foodstuffs, leather, this weird nearwood fungus, and plenty of handicrafts-anything else?"

“Not really, sir-Godsworld has no fossil fuels at all, since it's never had dense enough carboniferous life and has been geologically stable since before life really even got established. It's extremely poor in heavy metals and even some of the lighter ones. There's no established industry at all-the original colonists were mildly BTN, and with so little to work with…"

John interrupted, “What's BTN? I never heard that term."

“'Back-to-Nature',” Kwam? explained. “Anti-technology. It's a recurring problem on colony planets."

“Aren't any of the other native life-forms useful?"

“Not that we know of; there are no native fauna, only the fungoids-red plants, the locals call them. They aren't really fungus at all, they're a whole new category-but not a very useful one, except for nearwood. They're not biologically interactive with any terrestrial life, though in an emergency they can be eaten without ill effect. The nutritional value of the best of them is low, and the taste is like eating dirt."

John did not consider fungusmeat to be as bad as that, but said nothing.

“We'll want to put a biochemical research team on that all the same,” Szebenyi said. “Let's see… any chance of tourism?"

“I don't think so, sir-the native culture is pretty drab.” Blessing glanced at John, who made no objection. “About the only thing they ever did with real style was fight wars, and of course we put an end to that. They do have some very complex theology, which has produced interesting rituals-but interesting to anthropologists, not tourists. And really, sir, it's a pretty ugly planet. No trees, no real mountains, no beaches worth mentioning. We've had a few stockholders come around to look the place over, and every one of them got bored and left on the next ship out, so I don't think the place has any overwhelming attraction."

“All right,” Szebenyi said. “That's what I'd heard from the computers. Blessing, we've got a new post for you-ITD just got the contract to open Harwood's World, and you've been named as supervisor-assuming you want the job."

Blessing nodded, smiling.

“For the rest of you, after looking things over here, I've decided to cut back operations on Godsworld. This place is a backwater-it's always going to be a backwater. We'll keep up what we've got, but any expansion would be a waste of money; we're already at the point of diminishing return on our investment, because there just isn't anything here.” He glanced at John, the only native Godsworlder in the room, but John simply stared back silently. He had long suspected that the profits to be made on Godsworld were limited. Even ITD couldn't make money from nothing.

“Mercy, you'll be taking over for Blessing for now; Kim, you'll be coming back to Earth as soon as you can get your operation here set up to run without you. Montez, you'll be taking over as second-in-command-use whatever title you like, we'll pay you the same in any case.” He stood up. “Any objections?"

No one spoke.

“Good. Mercy, I want to talk to you alone for a moment about what you'll be doing.” He motioned for John to follow.

John obeyed, and the two men left the room; they strode side by side down the upholstered hallway, neither one speaking.

Szebenyi led the way to John's office; by unspoken agreement neither man sat behind the desk, but instead each took one of the crude Godsworlder chairs John kept handy for visiting locals.

When both were settled, Szebenyi said, “Mercy, you've done good work here, despite your background."

John nodded. “Thank you,” he said.

“Of course, it's your home planet, and that gives you an advantage."

John nodded again.

“Have you ever considered moving on?"

John leaned back thoughtfully. “Can't say,” he said.

He had thought about leaving Godsworld, of course-particularly in those uncertain weeks when he still thought America Dawes might carry out her threat to show the tapes of Tuesday and himself publicly-but never very seriously. ITD had hired him for his knowledge of this one particular planet, after all-why would they move him elsewhere?

“Well, I'll tell you, the reason I wanted to talk to you alone is to let you consider something without having to listen to what anyone else thinks, because we want it to be entirely your own choice. We're putting you in charge of the operation here on Godsworld, and we're perfectly willing to leave you here ru

He paused.