cleared his throat. “There must be. What I wanted was the file on him, sir.”
“File?”
“Yes, sir. I've got to the point where I want to cram up on everything we have on him. So far, all I've got is verbal information from individual agents and from Supervisor Jakes.”
“Don't be silly, Ronny. There isn't any file on Tommy Paine.”
Ronny just looked at the other.
Ross Metaxa said impatiently, “The very knowledge of the existence of the man is top secret. Isn't that obvious? Suppose some reporter got the story and printed it. If our member planets knew there was such a man and that we haven't been able to scotch him, why they'd drop out of UP so fast the computers couldn't keep up with it. There's not one planet in ten that feels secure enough to lay itself open to subversion. Why some of our planets are so far down the ladder of social evolution they live under primitive tribal society; their leaders, their wise men and witch-doctors, whatever you call them, are scared someone will come along and establish chattel slavery. Those planets that have a system based on slavery are scared to death of developing feudalism, and those that have feudalism are afraid of creeping capitalism. Those with an anarchistic basis—and we have several—are afraid of being subverted to statism, and those who have a highly developed government are afraid of anarchism. The socio-economic systems based on private ownership of property hate the very idea of socialism or communism, and vice versa, and those planets with state capitalism hate them both.”
He glared at Ronny. “What do you think the purpose of this Section is, Bronston? Our job is to keep our member planets from being afraid of each other. If they found that Tommy Paine and his group, if he's got a group, were buzzing through the system subverting everything they can foul up, they'd drop out of UP and set up quarantines that a space mite couldn't get through. No sir, there is no file on Tommy Paine and there never will be. And if any news of him spreads to the outside, this Section will emphatically deny he exists. I hope that's clear.”
“Well, yes sir,” Ronny said. The commissioner had been all but roaring toward the end.
The order box clicked on Ross Metaxa's desk and he said loudly, “What?”
“Don't yell at me,” Irene snapped back. “Ronny's five minutes are up. You've got an appointment. I'm getting tired of this job. It's a mad-house. I'm going to quit and get a job with Interplanetary Finance.”
“Oh, yeah.” Ross snarled back. “That's what you think. I've taken measures. Top security. I've warned off every Commissioner in UP. You can't get away from me until you reach retirement age. Although I don't know why I care. I hate nasty tempered women.”
“Huh!” she snorted and clicked off.
“There's a woman for you,” Ross Metaxa growled at Ronny. “It's too bad she's indispensable. I'd love to fire her. Look, you go in and see Sid Jakes. Seems to me he said something about Tommy Paine this morning. Maybe it's a lead.” He came to his feet. “So long and good luck, Ronny. I feel optimistic about you. I think you'll get this Paine troublemaker.”
Which was more than Ronny Bronston thought.
Sid Jakes already had a visitor in his office, which didn't prevent him from yelling, “It's open,” when Ronny Bronston knocked.
He bounced from his chair, came around the desk and shook hands enthusiastically. “Ronny!” he said, his tone implying they were favorite brothers for long years parted. “You're just in time.”
Ronny took in the office's other occupant appreciatively. She was a small girl, almost tiny. He estimated her to be at least half Chinese, or maybe Indo-Chinese, the rest probably European or North American.
She evidently favored her Asiatic blood, her dress was traditional Chinese, slit almost to the thigh Shanghai style.
Sid Jakes said, “Tog Lee Chang Chu—Ronny Bronston. You'll be working together. Bloodhounding old Tommy Paine. A neat trick if you can pull it off. Well, are you all set to go?”
Ronny mumbled something to the girl in the way of amenity, then looked back at the supervisor. “Working together?” he said.
“That's right. Lucky you, eh?”
Tog Lee Chang Chu said demurely, “Possibly Mr. Bronston objects to having a female assistant.”
Sid Jakes snorted, and hurried around his desk to resume his seat. “Does he look crazy? Who'd object to having a cutey like you around day in and day out? Call him Ronny. Might as well get used to it. Two of you'll be closer than man and wife.”
“Assistant?” Ronny said, bewildered. “What do I need an assistant for?” He turned his eyes to the girl. “No reflection on you, Miss ... ah, Tog.”
Sid Jakes laughed easily. “Section G operatives always work in pairs, Ronny. Especially new agents. The advantages will come home to you as you go along. Look on Tog Lee Chang Chu as a secretary, a man Friday. This isn't her first assignment, of course. You'll find her invaluable.”
The supervisor plucked a card from an order box. “Now here's the dope. Can you leave within four hours? There's a UP Space Forces cruiser going to Merlini, they can drop you off at New Delos. Fastest way you could possibly get there. The cruiser takes off from Neuve Albuquerque in, let's see, three hours and forty-five minutes.”
“New Delos?” Ronny said, taking his eyes from the girl and trying to catch up with the grasshopper-like conversation of his superior.
“New Delos it is,” Jakes said happily. “With luck, you might catch him before he can get off the planet.” He chuckled at the other's expression. “Look alive, Ronny! The quarry is flushed and on the run. Tommy Paine's just assassinated the Immortal God-King of New Delos. A neat trick, eh?”
* * * * *
The following hours were chaotic. There was no indication of how long a period he'd be gone. For all he knew, it might be years. For that matter, he might never return to Earth. This Ronny Bronston had realized before he ever applied for an interplanetary appointment. Mankind was exploding through this spiral arm of the galaxy. There was a racial enthusiasm about it all. Man's destiny lay out in the stars, only a laggard stayed home of his own accord. It was the ambition of every youth to join the snowballing avalanche of man into the neighboring stars.
It took absolute severity by Earth authorities to prevent the depopulation of the planet. But someone had to stay to administer the ever more complicated racial destiny. Earth became a clearing house for a thousand cultures, attempting, with only moderate success, to co-ordinate her widely spreading children. She couldn't afford to let her best seed depart. Few there were, any more, allowed to emigrate from Earth. New colonies drew their immigrants from older ones.
Lucky was the Earthling able to find service in interplanetary affairs, in any of the thousands of tasks that involved journey between member planets of UP. Possibly one hundredth of the population at one time or another, and for varying lengths of time, managed it.
Ronny Bronston was lucky and knew it. The thing now was to pull off this assignment and cinch the appointment for good.
He packed in a swirl of confusion. He phoned a relative who lived in the part of town once known
