Bannerd restored the light at a gesture, and the colors faded.
The Cepheid said, 'That is something my people would enjoy.' He stared at the globe with fascination.
And now Antyok rose. 'You had better go. If you stay longer, the atmosphere may have bad effects. I thank you humbly for your kindness.'
'I thank you humbly for yours.' The Cepheid had also risen.
Antyok said, 'Most of your people, by the way, have accepted our offers to them to study the make-up of our modern spaceships. You understand, I suppose, that the purpose was to study the reactions of your people to our technology. I trust that conforms with your sense of propriety.'
'You need not apologize. I, myself, have now the makings of a human pilot. It was most interesting. It recalls our own efforts - and reminds us of how nearly on the right track we were.'
The Cepheid left, and Antyok sat, frowning.
'Well,' he said to Bannerd, a little sharply. 'You remember our agreement, I hope. This interview can't be published.'
Bannerd shrugged, 'Very well.'
Antyok was at his seat, and his fingers fumbled with the small metal figurine upon his desk, 'What do you think of all this, Bannerd?'
'I am sorry for them. I think I understand how they feel. We must educate them out of it. The Philosophy can do it.'
'You think so?'
'Yes.'
'We can't let them go, of course.'
'Oh, no. Out of the question. We have too much to learn from them. This feeling of theirs is only a passing stage. They'll think differently, especially when we allow them the completest independence.'
'Maybe. What do you think of the fluoro-globes, Bannerd? He liked them. It might be a gesture of the right sort to order several thousand of them. The Galaxy knows, they're a drug on the market right now, and cheap enough.'
'Sounds like a good idea,' said Bannerd.
'The Bureau would never agree, though. I know them.'
The newsman's eyes narrowed, 'But it might be just the thing. They need new interests.'
'Yes? Well, we could do something. I could include your transcript of the interview as part of a report and just emphasize the matter of the globes a bit. After all, you're a member of the Philosophy and might have influence with important people, whose word with the Bureau might carry much more weight than mine. You understand-?' 'Yes,' mused Bannerd. 'Yes.'
From:,AdHQ-Cephl8
To: BuOuProv
Subject: OuProv Project 2910, Part II; Birth rate of non-Humans on Cepheus 18, Investigation of.
Reference:
(a) BuOuProv letr. Cep-N-CM/car, 115097, dated 223/977 G.E.
Enclosure:
1. Transcript of conversation between L. Antyok of AdHQ-Ceph18, and Ni-San, High Judge of the non-Humans on Cepheus 18.
1. Enclosure 1 is forwarded herewith for the information of the BuOuProv.
2. The investigation of the subject undertaken in response to the authorization of reference (a) is being pursued along the new lines indicated in Enclosure 1. The BuOuProv is assured that every means will be used to combat the harmful psycho logical attitude at present prevalent among the non-Humans.
3. It is to be noted that the High Judge of the non-Humans on Cepheus 18 expressed interest in fluoro-globes. A prelimin ary investigation into this fact of non-Human psychology has been initiated.
L. Antyok, Superv.
AdHQ-Cephl8, 272/977 G.E.
From: BuOuProv
To: AdHQ-Cephl8
Subject: OuProv Project 2910; Birth rate of non-Humans on Cepheus 18, Investigation of. Reference: (a) AdHQ-Ceph 18 letr. AA-LA/mn, dated 272/977 G.E.
1. With reference to Enclosure 1 of reference (a), five thou sand fluoro-globes have been allocated for shipment to Ceph eus 18, by the Department of Trade.
2. It is instructed that AdHQ-Ceph 18 make use of all meth ods of appeasing non-Humans' dissatisfaction, consistent with the necessities of obedience to Imperial proclamations.
C. Morily, Chief,
BuOuProv, 283/977 G.E.
V
The dinner was over, the wine had been brought in and the cigars were out. The groups of talkers had formed, and the captain of the merchant fleet was the center of the largest. His brilliant white uniform quite outsparkled his listeners.
He was almost complacent in his speech: The trip was nothing. I've had more than three hundred ships under me before this. Still, I've never had a cargo quite like this. What do you want with five thousand fluoro-globes on this desert, by the Galaxy!'
Loodun Antyok laughed gently. He shrugged, 'For the non-Humans. It wasn't a difficult cargo, I hope.'
'No, not difficult. But bulky. They're fragile, and I couldn't carry more than twenty to a ship, with all the government regulations concerning packing and precautions against breakage. But it's the government's money, I suppose.'
Zammo smiled grimly. 'Is this your first experience with government methods, captain?'
'Galaxy, no,' exploded the spaceman. 'I try to avoid it, of course, but you can't help getting entangled on occasion. And it's an abhorrent thing when you are, and that's the truth. The red tape! The paper work! It's enough to stunt your growth and curdle your circulation. It's a tumor, a cancerous growth on the Galaxy. I'd wipe out the whole mess.'
Antyok said, 'You're unfair, captain. You don't understand.'
'Yes? Well, now, as one of these bureaucrats,' and he smiled amiably at the word, 'suppose you explain your side of the situation, administrator.'
'Well, now,' Antyok seemed confused, 'government is a serious and complicated business. We've got thousands of planets to worry about in this Empire of ours and billions of people. It's almost past human ability to supervise the business of governing without the tightest sort of organization. I think there are something like four hundred million men today in the Imperial Administrative Service alone, and in order to coordinate their efforts and to pool their knowledge, you must have what you call red tape and paper work. Every bit of it, senseless though it may seem, annoying though it may be, has its uses. Every piece of paper is a thread binding the labors of four hundred million humans. Abolish the Administrative Service and you abolish the Empire; and with it, interstellar peace, order and civilization.'
'Come -' said the captain.
'No. I mean it.' Antyok was earnestly breathless. 'The rules and system of the Administrative set-up must be sufficiently all-embracing and rigid so that in case of incompetent officials, and sometimes one is appointed - you may laugh, but there are incompetent scientists, and newsmen, and captains, too - in case of incompetent officials, I say, little harm will be done. For, at the worst, the system can move by itself.'
'Yes,' grunted the captain, sourly, 'and if a capable administrator should be appointed? He is then caught by the same rigid web and is forced into mediocrity.'
'Not at all,' replied Antyok, warmly. 'A capable man can work within the limits of the rules and accomplish what he wishes.'
'How?' asked Bannerd.
'Well... well -' Antyok was suddenly ill at ease. 'One method is to get yourself an A-priority project, or double-A, if possible.'
The captain leaned his head back for laughter, but never quite made it, for the door was flung open and frightened men were pouring in. The shouts made no sense at first. Then:
'Sir, the ships are gone. These non-Humans have taken them by force.'
'What? All?'
'Every one. Ships and creatures -'
It was two hours later that the four were together again, alone in Antyok's office now.
Antyok said coldly, 'They've made no mistakes. There's not a ship left behind, not even your training ship, Zammo. And there isn't a government ship available in this entire half of the Sector. By the time we organize a pursuit they'll be out of the Galaxy and halfway to the Magellanic Clouds. Captain, it was your responsibility to maintain an adequate guard.'
The captain cried, 'It was our first day out of space. Who could have known -'
Zammo interrupted fiercely, 'Wait a while, captain. I'm beginning to understand. Antyok,' his voice was hard, 'you engineered this.'
'I?' Antyok's expression was strangely cool, almost indifferent.
'You told us this evening that a clever administrator got an A-priority project assigned to accomplish what he wished. You got such a project in order to help the non-Humans escape.'
1 did? I beg your pardon, but how could that be? It was you yourself in one of your reports that brought up the problem of the failing birth rate. It was Bannerd, here, whose sensational articles frightened the Bureau into making a double A-priority project out of it. I had nothing to do with it.'
'You suggested that I mention the birth rate,' said Zammo, violently.
'Did I?' said Antyok, composedly.
'And for that matter,' roared Bannerd, suddenly, 'you suggested that I mention the birth rate in my articles.'
The three ringed him now and hemmed him in. Antyok leaned back in his chair and said easily, 'I don't know what you mean by suggestions. If you are accusing me, please stick to evidence - legal evidence. The laws of the Empire go by written, filmed or transcribed material, or by witnessed statements. All my letters as administrator are on file here, at the Bureau, and at other places. I never asked for an A-priority project. The Bureau assigned it to me, and Zammo and Bannerd are responsible for that. In print, at any rate.'
Zammo's voice was an almost inarticulate growl, 'You hoodwinked me into teaching the creatures how to handle a spaceship.'
'It was your suggestion. I have your report proposing they be studied in their reaction to human tools on file. So has the Bureau. The evidence - the legal evidence, is plain. I had nothing to do with it.'
'Nor with the globes?' demanded Bannerd.
The captain howled suddenly, 'You had my ships brought here purposely. Five thousand globes! You knew it would require hundreds of craft.'
'I never asked for globes,' said Antyok, coldly. 'That was the Bureau's idea, although I think Bannerd's friends of The Phil-osphy helped that along.'
Bannerd fairly choked. He spat out, 'You were asking that Cepheid leader if he could read minds. You were telling him to express interest in the globes.'
'Come, now. You prepared the transcript of the conversation yourself, and that, too, is on file. You can't prove it.' He stood up, 'You'll have to excuse me. I must prepare a report for the Bureau.'
At the door, Antyok turned, 'In a way, the problem of the non-Humans is solved, even if only to their own satisfaction. They'll breed now, and have a world they've earned themselves. It's what they wanted.
'Another thing. Don't accuse me of silly things. I've been in the Service for twenty-seven years, and I assure you that my paper work is proof enough that I have been thoroughly correct in everything I have done. And captain, I'll be glad to continue our discussion of earlier this evening at your convenience and explain how a capable administrator can work through red tape and still get what he wants.'
It was remarkable that such a round, smooth baby-face could wear a smile quite so sardonic.
From: BuOuProv
To: Loodun Antyok, Chief Public Administrator, A-8
Subject: Administrative Service, Standing in.
Reference:
(a) AdServ Court Decision 22874-Q, dated 1 /978 G.E.
1. In view of the favorable opinion handed down in reference (a) you are hereby absolved of all responsibility for the flight of non-Humans on Cepheus 18. It is requested that you hold yourself in readiness for your next appointment.
R. Horpritt. Chief,
AdServ, 15/978 G.E.
The letters that form a major part of this story (which contains one of my rare examples of extraterrestrial intelligences) are, you will be glad to know, based on the kind of material that routinely passed in and out of the N.A.E.S. (and, for all I know, still does). The turgid style is not my invention. I couldn't invent it if I tried.
When the story appeared, L. Sprague de Camp happily pointed out one flaw in the letter style: I had carelessly made someone in lower position, who was addressing someone in higher position, say, 'it is requested' instead of 'it is suggested.' The underling can humbly suggest, but only an overling can harshly request.
'Blind Alley' has one distinction I would like to mention.
After the war, there began that flood of science fiction anthologies that has been growing in width and depth ever since. Few, if any, science fiction writers have been anthologized as often as I have and the first one of my stories to be anthologized was not 'Nightfall' or a 'positronic robot' story or a 'Foundation' story. It was 'Blind Alley.'
In early 1946 Groff Conklin was putting out the first of his many science fiction anthologies - one called 'The Best of Science Fiction' - and there you will find 'Blind Alley.' That story, for which Campbell had paid $148.75 (He a word) then earned another $42.50 Qc a word). This meant that 'Blind Alley' had earned me 21/4c a word, which was a record high at the time.