The Merchants of Venus, Page 3

thought grimly--he would be riskingnothing but a plan that had already failed.

  ”Go to it, boy,” he said. ”And if you need a fight, you'll get a damngood one.”

  * * * * *

  The fight with Carlson was short, and Rod was abruptly overruled. Afterthat Jaimie moved fast. The new colonists flocked in. Three months afterRod's talk with him, the compounds started to fill. A shipload was ahundred men, and each new man had to wait in a group until it wasfilled. But there was no waiting now except for processing; thecompounds were full before the ships were ready.

  Rod had paid no attention to Jaimie's recruiting methods, thinking thatthe historian's idea differed mainly in control over the colonists.

  Until he saw the crowds.

  Even from a distance, they didn't have the young look of the previousgroups. Up close, they looked like the sweepings of the slums.

 

  He and Biddington talked to a few before they fully realized what Jaimiehad done. All the men were sure that Venus was a mineral paradise--goldin the streams, uranium lodes so pure you had to wear a shield to getnear them, diamonds, silver--every treasure that had ever excited men onEarth was scattered around the new world waiting to be picked up. Thatwas what Jaimie had told them.

  Rod got to a phone, fast.

  ”Jaimie, you fool! I know what you're doing, and I won't put up with it!You've told these dupes they can get rich on Venus! You intended toattract large numbers of recruits, in the hope that some of them will bewhat we need--but look at what you attracted! Crooks, gangsters, bums,hoboes, sharecroppers and I don't know what. You got recruits allright ... but what the hell kind of a society are you going to startwith them! And who will go and live there among them later?”

  ”What's the matter, Workham?” Jaimie asked coldly. ”Are you a racialpurist? Want only your kind of people to get to Venus?”

  ”I don't care _who_ goes, as long as they fit some standards. But tomake a decent place, you need decent people--morally clean and healthy.Not this collection of mental cripples, alcoholics and thieves. Probablyhalf of them are wanted men!”

  He argued further, unable to believe that this was Jaimison's greatfifty-fifty chance. He said many things ... and regretted every one; forthat night the telecasts carried a recorded version of his outburst.Jaimie had maneuvered him into saying things he didn't quite mean, sothat it looked as if he was trying to hide the all good things on Venusand save them for his own friends. One commentator said outright that ifyou weren't a college graduate recommended by one of Workham's friends,it would cost you a thousand dollars to get on an outgoing ship. By thenext morning, half the papers in the world were after Workham's scalp.

  * * * * *

  Rod could only take the abuse and grind his teeth. How did you fight athing like that? You were condemned if you kept silent, and if youanswered, people nodded their heads and said, ”See--he's still trying todeny it.”

  The failures from the old colonies were Rod's only allies. They tried totell people what Venus was like, and what lies Carlson and his stoogeJaimison were using for bait. But it was pointed out that these mennaturally had a stake in the secret ... and, after all, everyone knewhow well off the returning colonists were! This was actually due to thehigh premium paid to get men to go to the planet, but no one believed.

  Days passed. Weeks. The compounds filled, and emptied, and filled again.People stood in lines to apply. They walked miles to appear at arecruiting center. They fought for a place on the next ship, or the oneafter that. Farmers, clerks, ragged families, hoboes, armed men,teen-age boys and old men. Four thousand people applied in the first fewmonths and were shipped out. Then the crowds thinned, even though theGet Rich propaganda continued. Soon, only a few hundred appeared wherethere had been thousands; then twos and threes; at last only a dozen orso a day, many of whom changed their minds before the full shipload hadbeen assembled.

  Rod clung to his job throughout. He had little to do, though hisdepartment had never been formally discontinued. Sooner or later, heknew, their services would be needed--when this cheap trick had failed.So he and his staff remained. Studying old files, making up testbatteries, discussing survival factors, they readied themselves for theproject again. From time to time they interviewed and tested a few ofthose waiting in the compounds. There was too much time to just sitaround--even this activity was a welcome diversion.

  As the year passed, the number of prospective colonists stoppeddecreasing and held steady at about five a day. But slowly somethingelse changed. Among the new arrivals there began to appear engineers whohad tossed up good jobs to emigrate, farmers with their families,school-teachers, storekeepers, lawyers, even doctors. All of them young.Not in any great number; but their appearance was a surprise still. Thenthere came two former colonists who had resigned on one of the earlierattempts, now trying to get back to Venus without inducement of bonus,high pay or guaranteed return.

  That was the day Rod decided to call on Jaimie.

  * * * * *

  ”I have here a bottle of eight-year-old rye, Jaimie,” he began. ”I thinkyou're entitled to a drink, and I'm entitled to an explanation. Want toswap?”

  ”Rod!” Jaimie's bony face lit up. ”It's good to see you. I've beenafraid to call you until we could admit to the hoax. Come in, come in.”

  ”Well, you did it,” Rod said, after they had settled down. ”I met twoformer colonists in the compound today. They know there isn't gold onVenus, and still they want to go out for free. No contract. And latelywe've been getting professional people. There was even a kid fresh outof journalism school who wants to start up a paper. Jaimie, how did youdo it? Were we so far wrong as that?”

  ”You did it yourself, Rod. You told me how--but you wouldn't havebelieved, then. Or if you had, we never would have sold it to Carlson.Remember, you said if there were only a recent pioneer civilizationaround, you'd run to them with ink-blots and vocabulary tests? All youneeded to do was duplicate the kind of person who settled America orAustralia or California.

  ”Well, as a historian I _knew_ those people. And I knew what broughtthem. So I merely put out the same kind of bait.”

  ”The same kind of bait!” Rod exclaimed. ”What about freedom of religionand freedom from oppression? Isn't that what brought people to thiscountry? There's no oppression to flee from these days! And even if itwas the same bait, why weren't the same kind of people attracted? Yousaw that first compound full--where in that cesspool was Thomas Paine,or Franklin, or Miles Standish?”

  ”Franklin was born here,” Jaimie grinned. ”Paine didn't come over in thefirst wave. And I suppose General Carlson was Miles Standish. Maybe thatkid journalist you saw was Paine's counterpart. No, Rod--the bait I heldout attracted the same kind of people initially as it always has. Youhave been compromising all along on the factors you really wanted inorder to get young, healthy, moral people to Venus. The answer is simplythis: Pioneers are not necessarily young, healthy, or moral. So youdidn't get what you wanted.

  ”You see, America wasn't only founded by pilgrims. They were actually aminority here. We were settled by promoters, trappers, bonded servants,exiled British deportees, pickpockets and thieves. We were explored byFrench and Spanish pirates. The better element in Europe didn't comehere at first--why should they? It was dangerous. Pioneering was to theadvantage of the worst elements. They came by court order, out ofnecessity, for adventure. They came for gold more than for freedom; fora new chance more than for a new religion.

  ”Australia was set up as a penal colony. Others went there for gold, orto start over where they weren't known. That's the kind of person whosettles a new land--the misfits: too impulsive, drunkards, weaklings,convicts, and fugitives from justice. Too sick in mind and body to makea go of it where they are.

  ”So we announced that there was a brand new world with a new chance foreveryone on it. We implied that there was wealth. We told themeverything about Venus that brought the English to America, the Spanishto South Ame
rica, the Easterners to the West, and the Middlewesternersto California. We didn't hunt for pioneers. They came to us.”

  * * * * *

  Rod refilled his glass thoughtfully. ”But what kind of a society willmen like that create? A fighting, lawless structure....”

  ”That's right. And the lawless will eliminate themselves by their veryactivities. Like the early West. While the doctors come in to treatwounds, and the lawyers to plead their cases; while their wives and theother wives will start schools and bring in school-teachers. Thatsociety will purge itself, Rod--many of the worst will become goodcitizens out of meeting the challenge of a new planet, and the rest willdisappear.”

  ”Well, then, what about the gold story?” Rod asked. ”Won't they be angrywith everyone connected with the project because of the hoax?”

  ”That was a little raw, but no worse than other gold rushes--few of thestampeders ever found the gold they went after. The captain of one ofthe rockets told me that the first few months the colonists were tryingto stow away on the returning ships. Now they send messages to friendsand relatives to come before the opportunity is gone--that's why you'veseen this better element. Our lies will soon be forgotten, and crops andfoods and minerals will be coming from Venus, and better people will goto