ins. It got me a reputation for wisdom. Arran, here — she decides what the in opinion is to be."
"Ridiculous," Arran said. "I just think what I think."
"I traced it. I wish I could trace it further, but you were so obviously innocent of the plot that I didn't want to discover any —"
"Damn right I'm innocent," Arran interrupted.
"Jason, every single Cabinet minister is controlled some way or another. I didn't even discover it on my own. I was told. By a friend who shall remain nameless."
"You mean Shimon Rapth," Jazz said.
Forgetting his nose, Baak sat upright. "If you already know so damn much why did you come in and break my nose!"
"What did Rapth tell you, Farl?"
"Just what I told you. That the Cabinet is being controlled."
"And you nobly decided to try to put a stop to it by killing me."
"No, Worthing, not at all. I don't give a damn who controls the government. What I care about is who controls the somec —"
And then the conversation ended, because a half–dozen guards broke into the room, armed with lasers and ready to kill. Three of them took Jason and held him. Only one of them bothered to restrain Hop. Hop was a little offended at how little they feared him. Oh well.
"If you men worked for me," Jazz said, "I'd fire you all. He pushed the button ten minutes ago, and had to stall me this long."
Farl only set his lips and got up to get something to stanch the nosebleed. Arran also moved. She headed straight for Jason, who knew what was coming but couldn't do anything about it. She brought her knee up sharply into his groin. Jason cried out and went slack for a moment in the guard's arms. Then he pulled himself upright and she did it again, even harder. This time Hop cried out, too, and Farl said from the kitchen, where he was dampening a cloth, "That's enough, Arran." The Cabinet minister came back into the room with the cloth pressed to his nose. "Too bad you came along with Worthing on this one, Hop," he said. "We've had some pleasant dealings in the past, but this time Jazz is going to die, and I'm really not very afraid of the record on your ship, if there is one, Worthing."
Jazz didn't answer. He was still in pain from Arran's blows.
"Jason Worthing isn't any traitor, Baak," Noyock said.
"Oh, heavens, of course not," Baak answered. "How could I think such a thing? Listen, Noyock, how would you feel if you knew that somebody was getting payoffs to promote wealthy people to high somec levels on merit — men and women who obviously have no merit?"
"I'd kill the bastard. But Jazz hasn't even been on Capitol in forty years!"
"People are getting those promotions, Hop. Somebody's controlling the somec review board the same way they're controlling the Cabinet. And Jazz Worthing is involved. Do you want to see the proof? I'd love to show you." Farl Baak walked to a looper — one of the incredibly expensive home models — and slipped in a loop. Immediately on a small viewing stage a half–size replica of Jason Worthing stood in full starpilot's uniform. Baak punched the start button and adjusted the volume.
"Fellow soldiers of the Empire," the holocene of Jazz began, and the speech went on, an eloquent reminder of all the ways that the troops and the fleets had been trodden on and ignored by those in high places in the government. The speech, if played before soldiers, would have had them ready to tear apart the entire civil service after only ten minutes. And then the holo of Jason Worthing dropped its voice and said, "But, brothers, none of this amounts to anything. It amounts to nothing at all. You haven't suffered a bit, compared to this one outrage:
"You are not on somec, my friends.
"Except when they dump you in the belly of a ship and send you off to die in some forgotten colony, somec never reaches the common soldier. These friends of ours in the civil service scramble in their petty departmental squabbles in order to get five years, ten years, twenty years on somec at a time. What do you
"Ridiculous," Arran said. "I just think what I think."
"I traced it. I wish I could trace it further, but you were so obviously innocent of the plot that I didn't want to discover any —"
"Damn right I'm innocent," Arran interrupted.
"Jason, every single Cabinet minister is controlled some way or another. I didn't even discover it on my own. I was told. By a friend who shall remain nameless."
"You mean Shimon Rapth," Jazz said.
Forgetting his nose, Baak sat upright. "If you already know so damn much why did you come in and break my nose!"
"What did Rapth tell you, Farl?"
"Just what I told you. That the Cabinet is being controlled."
"And you nobly decided to try to put a stop to it by killing me."
"No, Worthing, not at all. I don't give a damn who controls the government. What I care about is who controls the somec —"
And then the conversation ended, because a half–dozen guards broke into the room, armed with lasers and ready to kill. Three of them took Jason and held him. Only one of them bothered to restrain Hop. Hop was a little offended at how little they feared him. Oh well.
"If you men worked for me," Jazz said, "I'd fire you all. He pushed the button ten minutes ago, and had to stall me this long."
Farl only set his lips and got up to get something to stanch the nosebleed. Arran also moved. She headed straight for Jason, who knew what was coming but couldn't do anything about it. She brought her knee up sharply into his groin. Jason cried out and went slack for a moment in the guard's arms. Then he pulled himself upright and she did it again, even harder. This time Hop cried out, too, and Farl said from the kitchen, where he was dampening a cloth, "That's enough, Arran." The Cabinet minister came back into the room with the cloth pressed to his nose. "Too bad you came along with Worthing on this one, Hop," he said. "We've had some pleasant dealings in the past, but this time Jazz is going to die, and I'm really not very afraid of the record on your ship, if there is one, Worthing."
Jazz didn't answer. He was still in pain from Arran's blows.
"Jason Worthing isn't any traitor, Baak," Noyock said.
"Oh, heavens, of course not," Baak answered. "How could I think such a thing? Listen, Noyock, how would you feel if you knew that somebody was getting payoffs to promote wealthy people to high somec levels on merit — men and women who obviously have no merit?"
"I'd kill the bastard. But Jazz hasn't even been on Capitol in forty years!"
"People are getting those promotions, Hop. Somebody's controlling the somec review board the same way they're controlling the Cabinet. And Jazz Worthing is involved. Do you want to see the proof? I'd love to show you." Farl Baak walked to a looper — one of the incredibly expensive home models — and slipped in a loop. Immediately on a small viewing stage a half–size replica of Jason Worthing stood in full starpilot's uniform. Baak punched the start button and adjusted the volume.
"Fellow soldiers of the Empire," the holocene of Jazz began, and the speech went on, an eloquent reminder of all the ways that the troops and the fleets had been trodden on and ignored by those in high places in the government. The speech, if played before soldiers, would have had them ready to tear apart the entire civil service after only ten minutes. And then the holo of Jason Worthing dropped its voice and said, "But, brothers, none of this amounts to anything. It amounts to nothing at all. You haven't suffered a bit, compared to this one outrage:
"You are not on somec, my friends.
"Except when they dump you in the belly of a ship and send you off to die in some forgotten colony, somec never reaches the common soldier. These friends of ours in the civil service scramble in their petty departmental squabbles in order to get five years, ten years, twenty years on somec at a time. What do you
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