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Updated: June 28, 2025
That's been accomplished now; Commodore Napier is there, and both Resident General Emmert and Attorney General O'Brien are under arrest, on a variety of malfeasance and corrupt-practice charges, but that won't come into your Honor's court. They'll be sent back to Terra for trial." "Then Commodore Napier's taken over the civil government?"
After the doctor had been taken out of the ruins It was found that he had not been seriously injured, and in the course of a few weeks was able to resume practice. During the winter of 1868 the Emmert house, situated on Bench street near Wabasha, was destroyed by fire. The Emmert house was built in territorial times by Fred Emmert, who for some time kept a hotel and boarding house at that place.
"Jack, have you had any news on the screen lately?" "No. Something turn up?" "God, yes! The cops are all over the city hunting the Fuzzies; they have orders to shoot on sight. Nick Emmert was just on the air with a reward offer five hundred sols apiece, dead or alive." It took a few seconds for that to register. Then he became frightened.
Emmert muttered something inaudible and probably indecent. "I didn't think he had. I only hope those Fuzzies don't get up in court, build a bonfire and start making speeches in Lingua Terra." Nick Emmert cried out in panic. "You believe they're sapient yourself!" "Of course. Don't you?" Grego laughed sourly. "Nick thinks you have to believe a thing to prove it. It helps but it isn't necessary.
And, now that he thought of it, it had been one of Kellogg's people, van Riebeek, who had touched off the explosion in the first place. He didn't know van Riebeek himself, but Kellogg should have, and he had handled him the wrong way. He should have known what van Riebeek would go along with and what he wouldn't. "But, Victor, they won't convict Leonard of murder," Emmert was saying.
"Five years from now, they'll be making more money out of bat dung than we'll be making out of this whole world!" And the Company's good friend and substantial stockholder, Nick Emmert, would be out, too, and a Colonial Governor General would move in, with regular army troops and a complicated bureaucracy.
As long as we don't do that, Nick Emmert hasn't anything to worry about. Now forget this whole damned business, Leonard!" He was beginning to speak sharply, and Kellogg was looking hurt. "I know you were concerned about injurious reports getting back to Terra, and that was quite commendable, but...." By the time he got through, Kellogg was happy again.
"The kid's lying, and if they ever get a veridicator on her, they'll prove it", he said. "Emmert, or Grego, or the two of them together, bribed those people to tell that story." "Oh, I take that for granted," Gerd said. "I know that place. Junktown. Ruth does a lot of work there for juvenile court."
Rainsford could be a Federation agent a roving naturalist would have a wonderful cover occupation. But this Big Blackwater business was so utterly silly. Nick Emmert had too much graft on his conscience; it was too bad that overloaded consciences couldn't blow fuses. "Suppose he is, Leonard. What could he report on us?
"He's going to have a goddamn thundering big one from Jack Holloway!" The communication screen buzzed; Gerd snapped it on. "I just talked to Judge Pendarvis," Gus Brannhard reported out of it. "He's issuing an order restraining Emmert from paying any reward except for Fuzzies turned over alive and uninjured to Marshal Fane.
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