Warlord of Kor | Page 7

"And what would happen if you had to step on them to make your

money? What if Hirlaj doesn't turn out to have any natural resources worth exploiting--a
whole civilization has been here for thousands of years? What if the colony here starts to
falter, and the men move on?"
Manning frowned at her for a moment, then gave a grunting laugh. "No chance of that.
It's like Lee was just saying--this planet is an important discovery--we've got tame aliens
here, intelligent horsefaces that you can lead around with a rope on their necks. That
alone will draw tourists. Maybe well set up an official Restricted Ground, a sort of
reservation."
"A zoo, you mean," Rynason interrupted.
Manning raised an amused eyebrow at him. "A reservation, I said. You know what
reservations are like, Lee."
Rynason glared at the heavier man, then subsided. There was no point in getting into a
fight over if's and maybe's; in the outworlds you learned quickly to confine your clashes
to tangibles. "Why did you want to see me?" he said.
"I want your preliminary report completed," Manning said. "I've got to have my complete
report collated and transmitted within the week, if it's to have any effect on the Council.
Most of the boys have got them in already; Breune and Larsborg have promised theirs
within four days. But you're still holding me up."
Rynason took a long swallow of his drink and put it down empty. The noise and smell of
the bar seemed to grow around him, washing over him. It might have been the effects of
the tarpaq in the drink, but he felt his stomach tighten and turn slightly when he thought
of how Earth's culture presented itself, warped itself, here on the frontier Edge. Was this
land of mercenary, slipshod rush really what had carried Earthmen to the stars?
"I don't know if I'll have much to report for at least a week," he said shortly.
"Then give me a report on what you've got!" Manning snapped. "If nothing else, turn in
your transcripts and I'll do the report myself; I can handle it. What the hell do you mean,
you won't have much to report?"
"Larsborg said the same thing," Mara interjected.
"Larsborg said he'd have his report ready in a couple of days anyway!"
"I'll give you what I've got as soon as I can," Rynason said. "But things are just beginning
to break for me--did you see my note this afternoon?"
"Yes, of course. The part about this Tedron or whatever his name was?"
"Tebron Marl. He's the link between their barbaric and civilized periods. I've only begun
to get into it."

Manning was waving for more drinks; he caught a waiter's eye and then turned back to
Rynason. "What's this nonsense about some damned block you ran into? Have you got a
crazy horse on your hands?"
"There's something strange there," Rynason said. "He tells me this Tebron was actually
supposed to have communicated with their god, or whatever he was. It sounds crazy, all
right. But there's more to it than that, I'm sure of it. I wanted time to go into it further
before I made my report."
"I think you've got a nut alien there, boy. Don't let him foul you up; you're one of my best
men."
Rynason almost sneered, but he managed to bring it out as a grin. The role of protective
father did not sit well on Manning's shoulders. "We're dealing here with a remarkably
sane race," he pointed out. "The very fact that they have total recall argues against any
insanity in them. There've been experiments on the inner worlds for over a century now,
trying to bring out total recall in us, and not much luck so far. We're a sick, hung-up
race."
Manning slapped his hand down on the table. "What the hell are you trying to do, Lee?
Are you trying to measure these aliens by our standards? I thought you had better sense.
Total recall doesn't necessarily mean a damn thing in them--but when they start telling
you straightforward and cold that they've talked with some god, and then they throw what
sounds like an anxiety fit right in front of you.... Well, what does it sound like to you?"
Rynason accepted one of the drinks that the waiter banged down on the table and took a
sip. He felt lightheaded. "It would have been an anxiety fit if Horng had been human," he
said. "But you're right, I do know better than to judge him by our standards. No, it was
something else."
"What, then?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. That's the point--I can't give you a decent report until I
find out."
"Then, dammit, give me an indecent report! Fill