For a Good Time Call.... Donald Ph.D. Ladew

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sure are, sir."

      Hey, what the hell, I like the guy, William thought. Besides he has a better hold on English than I do on Badgerese.

      For the first time since he'd been making these trips Mr. Carson motioned William over to where he sat. He activated a control and a door appeared in the opaque wall that led into his work area.

      "Come in, Mr. Holt-Fennimore." He indicated another chair which sprang suddenly out of the floor. "Forgive me, William, but while there was any doubt that you might take the assignment, it was necessary that you have as little direct contact as possible with the rest of the people here, and of course, with our technology. The Confederacy, of which my home world is a member, has strict rules about advanced technologies being given to worlds existing at different technological levels."

      He was sure trying to be tactful. He could have said they didn't approve of giving cannon to children. Hell, William could figure that out.

      "William, I want you to know from the start, there is danger in this assignment, considerable danger. Others have made the attempt and failed. However, I feel you have unique talents that will help you overcome these problems. I am sure you will be a great help to your employer."

      His tail wasn't getting the job done so he replaced it with his small, dexterous fingers, then proceeded to scratch and pull the irritating extremity.

      "In order for you to understand the assignment it will be necessary for me to tell you how things are run out here in my neck of the trees. Did I get that right, William?" he asked.

      "Don't worry about it, Mr. Carson, it's close enough."

      "Good. As you have probably concluded there are many inhabited planets in the Galaxy. The world that I come from is a member of a confederation of planetary systems, comprised of more than four thousand planets. The members of the Confederation, each member planet, subscribe to certain overall rules of conduct. These rules are aimed solely at promoting survival, broadly, for each member race. Through the membership, those who subscribe to these rules acquire certain...tangible and intangible benefits.

      "There are many other planets spread through the known areas of the Galaxy, like your Earth, which aren't members. As a general rule, planetary systems that aren't members won't become such until they acquire interplanetary transport technology, FTL (Faster-Than-Light) space travel as you call it. We deduce from your current level of technology, barring any real disasters, your people will develop that technology in approximately two hundred of your years. Soon enough, I should think.

      "There are of course exceptions to both sides of this rule. The Confederation has members who don't have FTL technology, and there are those who have space flight who aren't members, and probably never will be."

      William realized the lecture was going to go on for a long time.

      "Be certain you understand this. The confederation of planets is not a governmental body. There are no political parties, such as your...Republicans and Democrats. Nor are we a police force."

      That was a change. "We?" William asked.

      "Ahhh, William, you do pay attention." He made sounds which William discovered were his version of laughter. "Yes, quite right, very astute. I am an agent, occasional employee of, and volunteer to the Confederation. My company is frequently retained by the presiding representatives. As I was saying, the group of beings who represent all the member worlds are not a police force. However they do have the authority and the means to punish in extreme situations.

      "Each planet or group of planets develops its own form of government. Each is entirely free to work out their own particular destiny, their own goals, by their own means."

      William didn't say anything, but he was supremely bored. He wondered when Carson was finally going to get to the point.

      "I have been watching your T.V. for years," Carson said. "There was a drama I watched regularly that featured “aliens”. That's me," he laughed, "or you, depending on your viewpoint. In any case, the drama often portrayed certain aliens, often an entire race as sublimely intelligent and gently motivated toward the goals of universal brotherhood and survival. I regret to tell you, William, that this is seldom the case."

      William woke up a little. It looked like Carson was finally going to get to the bottom line.

      "No, William, that is not how it is. Reality is far closer to your own history. The universe, this galaxy is filled with life. The inhabitants are also filled with prejudice, paranoia, avarice, hatred, evil and violence. I do not want to paint an entirely gloomy picture, however, because like Earth they have also produced beings of amazing ability, goodwill and charity. Some of them would even by your religious tenets be considered saints. But, while the latter happens often enough at an individual level to give us all hope, it seldom happens within any group, nation, planet or the like."

      Christ, I could have told him that, William thought. What organization ever does anything except muddy the work of an individual. Group think is never elegant, and frequently destructive.

      "Occasionally," Mr. Carson went on, "when two nations or even planetary systems, have a problem for which their final solution is war, and this strife becomes so destructive, so harmful to others that its effects spread beyond its own territorial boundaries, the Confederation finds it necessary, under the rules of its charter, to step in and...terminate the problem, to...sterilize the area.

      "This form of quarantine is not pleasant. The confederation's solution is almost always exercised in extremis. It will only occur if all other efforts to mediate have failed. Truly the Confederation would interfere only if such a war threatened the security of those not directly involved. A people's right to fight, to struggle, to survive, no matter how obscene, no matter how savage, is the business of the participants."

      Now we're getting down to it, William thought. It's nitty-gritty time.

      "A situation exists in the Tau Ceti System which is rapidly approaching the point where the Confederacy may find it necessary to intervene. Be assured, William, they would rather not. And this is where I think you may be able to help us. In Tau Ceti there is a situation that is desperately in need of a new viewpoint."

      He paused. "Have you understood me so far, William?" He was very intense, quite different from his normal, professorial detachment.

      William tried to answer him in kind. "Yeah, I got it, but I'm not sure I like the sound of this business. I can't see how I could possibly help. It looks like you're counting on one man to make the difference. Mr. Carson, I haven't even been able to make my own life go right. How do you expect me to be able to help anyone else?"

      "Trust me, William. One man is often the only difference at great moments of history. I do know what I am doing." He was very sure.

      William tried to recall where he'd heard that “trust me” bit before? Another recruiter in a different uniform, he thought.

      "I know your potential, perhaps even better than you," Carson said. "When you leave here you will have an assignment, a task. It will be very specific. You will fulfill that task any way you can. Of course we will give you every kind of help possible. Remember, no matter what strange ideas you come up with, or odd suggestions, you will be listened to very carefully by the Confederation."

      Well at least I know who the job is for, William thought.

      "The people you will be dealing with have already heard all

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