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Zorn ground out his dope-stick, lit another. He snorted angrily. "Okay; what's your idea?" he asked after a moment. "You know what Petreac is getting in the way of imports as a result of the agreement?" "Sure. A lot of junk."
And there's more. They want the CDT delegation included in the massacre for a reason. It will put Petreac out of the picture; the trade agreement will go to Rotune; and you and your new regime will find yourselves looking down the muzzles of your own blasters." Zorn threw his dope-stick to the floor with a snarl. "I should have smelled something when that Rotune smoothie made his pitch."
They say different." He whirled, stared at Retief. "I have pretty good assurance that once I put it over, the Corps will have to recognize me as the legal government of Petreac. They won't meddle in internal affairs." "Nonsense," Magnan spoke up. "The Corps will never deal with a pack of criminals calling themselves " "Watch your language, you!" Zorn rasped. "I'll admit Mr.
"The Corps is getting a little tired of Petreac and Rotune carrying on their two-penny war out here. Your privateers have a nasty habit of picking on innocent bystanders. After studying both sides, the Corps has decided Petreac would be a little easier to do business with. So this trade agreement was worked out. The Corps can't openly sponsor an arms shipment to a belligerent.
"I'll tell you why," he said. "It's you birds. You and your trade agreement. You're here to tie Petreac into some kind of trade combine. That cuts Rotune out. Well, we're doing all right out here. We don't need any commitments to a lot of fancy-pants on the other side of the Galaxy." "That's what Rotune has sold you, eh?" Retief said, smiling. "Sold, nothing!"
Even a hint of familiarity with lower echelons could mean the failure of the mission. Let us remember that the Nenni represent authority here on Petreac. Their traditions must be observed, whatever our personal preferences. Let's go along now. The Potentate will be making his entrance any moment." Magnan came to Retief's side as they moved toward the salon.
"What if I let your boys alone?" Zorn said suddenly. "The Corps won't have anything to say then, huh?" "The Corps has plans for Petreac, Zorn. You aren't part of them. A revolution right now isn't part of them. Having the Potentate and the whole Nenni caste slaughtered isn't part of them. Do I make myself clear?" "Listen," Zorn said urgently, pulling a chair around.
"This killing won't help you, I'll personally see to it that your grievances are heard in the Corps Courts. I can assure you that the plight of the downtrodden workers will be alleviated. Equal rights for all " "These threats won't work," the man said. "You don't scare me." "Threats? I'm promising relief to the exploited classes of Petreac!" "You must be nuts," the man said.
"You trying to upset the system or something?" "Isn't that the purpose of your revolution?" "Look, Nenni, we're tired of you Nenni getting all the graft. We want our turn. What good would it do us to run Petreac if there's no loot?" "You mean you intend to oppress the people? But they're your own group." "Group, schmoop. We're taking all the chances; we're doing the work. We deserve the payoff.
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