Hardin started and produced one reluctantly.
Anselm haut Rodric sniffed at it and emitted a clucking sound of pleasure. Vegan tobacco! Where did you get it?
We received some last shipment. Theres hardly any left. Space knows when well get more if ever.
Pirenne scowled. He didnt smoke and, for that matter, detested the odour. Let me understand this, your eminence. Your mission is merely one of clarification?
Haut Rodric nodded through the smoke of his first lusty puffs.
In that case, it is soon over. The situation with respect to Encyclopedia Foundation Number One is what it always has been.
Ah! And what is it that it always has been?
Just this: a State-supported scientific institution and part of the personal domain of his august majesty, the Emperor.
The sub-prefect seemed unimpressed. He blew smoke rings. Thats a nice theory, Dr Pirenne. I imagine youve got charters with the Imperial Seal upon it but whats the actual situation? How do you stand with respect to Smyrno? Youre not fifty parsecs from Smyrnos capital, you know. And what about Konom and Daribow?
Pirenne said: We have nothing to do with any prefect. As part of the Emperors
Theyre not prefects, reminded haut Rodric; theyre kingdoms now.
Kingdoms then. We have nothing to do with them. As a scientific institution
Science be dashed! swore the other, via a bouncing soldierly oath that ionized the atmosphere. What the devil has that got to do with the fact that were liable to see Terminus taken over by Smyrno at any time?
And the Emperor? He would just sit by?
Haut Rodric calmed down and said: Well, now, Dr Pirenne, you respect the Emperors property and so does Anacreon, but Smyrno might not. Remember, weve just signed a treaty with the Emperor Ill present a copy to that Board of yours tomorrow which places upon us the responsibility of maintaining order within the borders of the old Prefect of Anacreon on behalf of the Emperor. Our duty is clear, then, isnt it?
Certainly. But Terminus is not part of the Prefect of Anacreon.
And Smyrno
Nor is it part of the Prefect of Smyrno. Its not part of any prefect.
Does Smyrno know that?
I dont care what it knows.
We do. Weve just finished a war with her and she still holds two stellar systems that are ours. Terminus occupies an extremely strategic spot between the two nations.
Hardin felt weary. He broke in: What is your proposition, your eminence?
The sub-prefect seemed quite ready to stop fencing in favour of more direct statements. He said briskly: It seems perfectly obvious that, since Terminus cannot defend itself, Anacreon must take over the job for its own sake. You understand we have no desire to interfere with internal administration
Uh-huh, grunted Hardin dryly.
but we believe that it would be best for all concerned to have Anacreon establish a military base upon the planet.
And that is all you would want a military base in some of the vast unoccupied territory and let it go at that?
Well, of course, there would be the matter of supporting the protecting forces.
Hardins chair came down on all fours, and his elbows went forward on his knees. Now were getting to the nub. Lets put it into language. Terminus is to be a protectorate and to pay tribute.
Not tribute. Taxes. Were protecting you. You pay for it.
Pirenne banged his hand on the chair with sudden violence. Let me speak, Hardin. Your eminence, I dont care a rusty half-credit coin for Anacreon, Smyrno, or all your local politics and petty wars. I tell you this is a State-supported tax-free institution.
State-supported? But we are the State, Dr Pirenne, and were not supporting.
Pirenne rose angrily. Your eminence, I am the direct representative of
his august majesty, the Emperor, chorused Anselm haut Rodric sourly, and I am the direct representative of the King of Anacreon. Anacreon is a lot nearer, Dr Pirenne.
Lets get back to business, urged Hardin. How would you take these so-called taxes, your eminence? Would you take them in kind; wheat, potatoes, vegetables, cattle?
The sub-prefect stared. What the devil? What do we need with those? Weve got hefty surpluses. Gold, of course. Chromium or vanadium would be even better, incidentally, if you have it in quantity.
Hardin laughed. Quantity! We havent even got iron in quantity. Gold! Here, take a look at our currency. He tossed a coin to the envoy.
Haut Rodric bounced it and stared. What is it? Steel?
Thats right.
I dont understand.
Terminus is a planet practically without metals. We import it all. Consequently, we have no gold, and nothing to pay unless you want a few thousand bushels of potatoes.
Well manufactured goods.
Without metal? What do we make our machines out of?
There was a pause and Pirenne tried again. This whole discussion is wide of the point. Terminus is not a planet, but a scientific foundation preparing a great encyclopedia. Space, man, have you no respect for science?
Encyclopedias dont win wars. Haut Rodrics brows furrowed. A completely unproductive world, then and practically unoccupied at that. Well, you might pay with land.