IF YOU COULD slip over into other possible worlds, you might find some strange economic set-ups, some strange enterprises.
Take the buisness of killing for instance…
The pacifist was looking for a warless world.
He thought he had found one.
THE room was small and undistinguished, yet there was the indelible impression that power radiated to and from it, that it was the focal point of vast, far-flung, tension-fraught, and crucial activities. Its general appearance — that of a hastily stripped living room — clashed with the large, efficient, and centrally located desk from which radiated a number of ribbons sheathing conductors and adhering unobtrusively to the floor. A strong possibility: that it was the temporary headquarters of an organization engaged in a critical enterprise.
The man who had said they might call him Whitlow sat in a corner. His face was long, bony, and big-jawed, but the effect was of fanaticism and obstinacy, even sulkiness, rather than strength. He rubbed his hands in a way that was meant to be amiable, very much the master of the situation although it was he who was being interviewed. His gaze wandered inquisitively. He looked, despite his pseudogeniality, as if he could make his expression go all stern in a moment, and he wore high-mindedness like an admiral�'s uniform. Yet behind it all lurked a hint of the brat who knows where the candy is hidden and who knows, furthermore, that he is immune from interference.
Saturnly and Neddar sat behind the desk. Or, rather, Saturnly sat behind most of it, while Neddar was tucked in at a corner, his nimble fingers poised above the noiseless keys of a hidden lightwriter, which was at present hooked up with a little panel that stared slantwise at Saturnly from the center of the desk.
Saturnly was obviously all appetite and will power. Heavy-jowled bullethead set on a torso that had expanded with its owner�'s enterprises. Eyes in which there was little subtlety but worlds of dogged power. A man who lived to outshout, outpound, outorganize, and outwit. A great driving voraciousness, joyously dedicated to the task of making men and money work.
Yet deep underneath was the suggestion of an iron and admirable integrity; one felt that in a pinch the man would unfailingly stand up for the things he believed in and lived by, whatever the cost and no matter how tawdry they might be.
Neddar just as obviously had no appetite at all except for his own peculiar whims, and subtlety fairly danced a jig in his liquid brown eyes. Yet he was Saturnly�'s equal in energy and tireless competence, but based on intellectual rather than emotional drives. A small, lithe man, very quick in all ways, young, but with a full black beard. Lips brimming with humor and mockery, though now carefully composed. A human catalyst, a court jester turned private secretary, a superassistant.
Their relationship was that of crocodile and crocodile bird, or — more accurately — shark and pilot fish.
The most arresting difference between them and the Whitlow person related to clothing. Although superficially similar, there was the suggestion of different epochs of fashion — or of some even wider gulf.
They watched him as a fat tom and a brainy kitten watch a mouse just out of reach.
Whitlow said, �“I repeat, the means whereby I came here are immaterial to our discussion. Suffice it to say that alternate time streams exist, resulting from time bifurcations in the not-too-distant past, and that I possess the means of traveling between them.�”
Saturnly extended his great paws soothingly. He said, �“Now, now, Mr. Whitlow, don�'t excite your — �”
He choked off. Neddar's fingers flickered, although no other part of his anatomy moved, and there glowed up at Saturnly the following warning: �“WATCH YOUR STEP! It�'s probably true. Remember, he turned up where he couldn�'t have.�”
Neddar said, �“Mr. Saturnly is concerned that you don�'t overtax yourself after your strenuous ordeal.�”
Mollified, Whitlow continued in his unpleasantly high-pitched and mincing voice, �“I am, among other things, a pacifist. I am visiting the alternate worlds in search of one that has learned how to do away with the horrid scourge of war, in order to bring back the precious knowledge to my erring co-timers. I see in yours no uniforms, no headlines detailing carnage, no posters blaring propaganda, nor any of the subtler indications that war is just over or will soon break out. I assume, therefore, that you have been able to eliminate this dreadful business of killing — �”
During this speech a stifled inward churning had been apparent in Saturnly. Now he exploded, �“Just who do you think you are, anyway? Coming here and insulting me — John Saturnly — this way! Why, you dirty Red — �”
He chewed air furiously. A new message glowed on the panel: �“You big ape! This guy�’s got something. If we offend him, we may not get it.�”
To Whitlow, Neddar said, �“Mr. Saturnly misunderstood you. He is a businessman and has a very keen sense of the dignity and worth of his work. He thought you were referring specifically to business, whereas, of course, you were only using the words in a figurative sense.�”
At the same time he made furtive motions indicating that Saturnly, though well intentioned, was rather slow of understanding.
Whitlow inquired, �“Just what is the nature of Mr. Saturnly's business?�”
A grumble of explosions shook the night.
�“Blasting operations,” said Neddar. ��“I don't mean his business — that comprises a variety of enterprises and has many ramifications. It happens, moreover, to be very closely concerned with that matter on which you are desirous of obtaining information.�”
�“I�'m glad to hear that,” said Whitlow. ��“I appreciate the attention you�'ve shown in bringing me here. But I could just as well follow my usual procedure of drifting around and taking things in gradually.�”
�“A needless waste of your time, which I am sure must be valuable. In Mr. Saturnly you have found the fountainhead. It is his enterprises that have eliminated from this world the terrible and chaotic sociopolitical upheavals of war.�”
The explosions continued. There came the vindictive drone of high-speed aircraft. Eagerness and doubt fought in Whitlow�'s face.
�“The night freight,” said Neddar. �“We are a very industrious people — very businesslike in all matters. And that leads me to another consideration. Mr. Saturnly and I are in a position to provide you with information which you greatly desire. You, on the other hand, possess a very fascinating power — that of passing between time streams.�”
�“Follow my lead,�” glowed on the panel, but it was unnecessary. Saturnly understood things like this without thinking.
He said, �“Yes, how about a little deal, Mr. Whitlow? We tell you how to prevent… uh… war. You tell us how to cross time.�”
Whitlow rolled the idea on his tongue, as if it were a new but not necessarily unpleasant kind of cough syrup. �“An interesting proposal. I could, of course, ultimately obtain the same information independently…�”
�“But not so adequately,�” said Neddar quickly, his eyes flashing. �“And not soon enough. I take it that there is some particular war which you desire to stop or prevent.��” A tiny green light began to blink on Saturnly�'s desk. Neddar thumbed a square marked �“No.” It continued to blink. He thumbed the square once more, then resumed, �“So speed must be your paramount consideration, Mr. Whitlow.�”
�“Yeh… ah… perhaps. And if I decide to impart my power to you, I would require assurances that it be used only for the most high-minded purposes.�”
�“Absolutely,�” said Saturnly, bringing down his palm as if it were a seal and his desk the document.
A door flicked open and a blonde young lady catapulted in. She squealed, �“I know you�'re in conference, J. S., but this is a crisis!�”
Saturnly made frantic gestures of warning. Neddar, after one appraising glance, wasted no time in such maneuvers.
She struck the pose of one announcing catastrophe. �“There�'s been a strike of front-line operatives!” she managed to wail — then Neddar was rushing her out. The slamming door punctuated her woeful: �“And just when you�'d come down to supervise the big push, J. S.!�”
�“A lovely girl, Mr. Whitlow, but hysterical,�” said Saturnly. �“She talks… what�'s that word… figuratively.�”
His blandness was lost on Whitlow. �“Just what is the nature of your business, Mr. Saturnly?�” The voice had acquired an inquisitorial edge.
Saturnly groped for a reply, looking around for Neddar as a dripping man looks for a towel.
�“Of course,��” Whitlow continued, a puzzled note creeping in, �“I assumed that there was no war here, because of the absence of war atmosphere, to which I am very sensitive. But — �”
�“You took the words out of my mouth,�” said Saturnly, clutching at the straw. ���“No war atmosphere — no war. You proved it yourself.�”
But another door flicked open, and it is doubtful if even Neddar could have stemmed the agitated tide of the small crowd that poured through it.
Of individuals of major importance — the rest wore badges — there seemed to be three. The first was tall and had been, at some prior date, dapper and competent.
He said, �“I'm through, J. S. I can't do anything with them. They've gotten beyond reason.” He threw himself down in a chair.
The second was short and bristling. He said, �“Just let me turn the artillery on them, J. S., and I�'ll blast them out of their sit-down!�”
�“You and who else?” inquired the third, who was of medium height, lumpy, and wearing a dirty raincoat. �“Just try that, and you�'ll see the biggest sympathetic walkout you ever tried to toss tear gas at.�”
They disregarded Saturnly's herculean efforts to shush them as completely as they did the presence of Whitlow.
�“J. S., their demands are impossible!�” the second man barked over the babbling.
The third man planted himself in front of Saturnly�'s desk. He stated, �“Twenty cents more an hour and time-and-a-half in the mud, with pay retroactive to day before yesterday�fs rainstorm.�”
�“It isn�'t mud!” the second man rebutted fiercely. �“It isn�'t sufficiently gelatinous. I�'ve had it analyzed.�”
Two studious-looking men in the background bobbed their heads in affirmation.
The third man dug his hand in his raincoat pocket, stepped forward, and slapped down a black, gooey handful in the middle of Saturnly�fs desk.
�“No mud, eh?�” he said, watching it ooze. �“What do you say, Saturnly?�”
The first man shuddered and cringed in his chair.
With a sweep of his bearlike arm, Saturnly sent the mud splattering off his desk as he came around it.
�“You dirty gutter stooge!” he roared. �“So two dollars an hour isn�’t good enough for your good-for-nothing front-liners?” He waved his muddied fist.
The third man stood his ground. He said, “And there are complaints about the absence of adequate safety engineering.�”
�“Safety engineering!�” Saturnly blew up. �“Why, when I was a frontline operative — and I knew the business, I can tell you, because I worked up to it from a low-down factory job — we kicked out any safety engineers that had the nerve to come sniffing around our trenches!�”
�“Care to join the union at this late date?�” asked the third man imperturbably.
Neddar�’s return coincided with the outburst of fresh pandemonium. He gave one apprehensive look. Three skipping strides carried him to Whitlow and put his bearded mouth two inches from the pacifist�’s ear.
�“We did deceive you,” he said rapidly, �“but it was only to avoid giving you an even more false impression. Let me clear out this rabble. Don�’t come to a decision until we�’ve talked to you.�”
Without waiting for a reply, he darted to Saturnly and drew him toward the door, pulling the rest of the crowd after him like planets after a sun.
Fifteen minutes later Neddar was still trying to pry Saturnly away. The second and third man had departed with their satellites, but Saturnly was hanging onto the first man and giving him certain instructions that caused him to lose his defeated look and finally hurry off excitedly.
Neddar redoubled his tugging. Saturnly did not at once yield to it. He turned his head. His broad face wore a beamy, glazed smile. �“Wait a minute, Neddy,” he said. �“I see it all now. Of course, when you first brought the guy in and tipped me off about time streams, I got the idea they were something we should go for. But you know how it is with me… I can only think when there's no opportunity to. It was only when those boobs came in and started to yammer at me that I really began to see the possibilities.�”
�“Yes, yes,�” said Neddar. �“And while you gloat, he slips through our fingers. Come on.�”
But in his exultation Saturnly was imperturbable. �“Just think, Neddy, worlds like ours — maybe dozens of them — and we got a monopoly on the trade. A real open-door policy — nobody but us can open it. We got a surplus — we know where to unload it. There�’s a scarcity — we know where we can get some. We got critical materials by the tail. We set up secret branch offices — Oh, Neddy!�”
Only then did he allow himself to be led off.
They passed through three rooms. All had the stripped look of Saturnly�'s office, yet there was still not enough space for the new installations and occupants. A battery of nimble-fingered girls tended transmitters of some sort. Others typed and lightwrote. Wall maps glowed vital information. Table maps had chess played on them by delicate logistic machines. Rakish young men in windbreakers lounged against the walls. Occasionally one of them would snatch up a packet and dart out into the night.
Various individuals, badgeless and badged, assailed and importuned Saturnly.
�“Sign this, J. S.!�”
�“Those front-liners won�'t let us bring up reinforcements, J. S. They�'re picketing the communication trenches!�”
�“J. S., the aircrafter's brotherhood has offered to take disciplinary measures against the front-liners. Can I give them the go ahead?�”
But Neddar did not look to either side, and Saturnly�'s tranced, Buddha-like smile said nothing.
Only when they came to the blonde secretary�'s desk, beside the door with the motto over it, did Neddar pause grudgingly.
�“If there are any important calls, you might as well let them come through,�” he said bitterly. “There�'s no longer any use in trying to keep our visitor in the dark.�”
She favored him with a poisonous smile.
�“We�'re all set, then?�” he asked Saturnly. “We admit everything and try to sell him on it?�”
�“We sell him,” Saturnly echoed positively.
Neddar hesitated. �“There�'s only one thing worries me,�” he said darkly. �“Your unfortunate tendency to tell the truth in crises.�”
�“Ha… a liar like me!” Saturnly laughed, but a shadow of uneasiness flickered across his face.
Mr. Whitlow had obviously used the fifteen minutes for thinking. Lingering puzzlement and cold anger were the apparent results. The latter predominated.
�“I�'m sorry, gentlemen,” he said, �“but there�’s no longer any possibility of an understanding between us. Your world is a war world like all the rest, except that it masks it in a peculiarly repellent fashion.�”
�“That ain�'t war,” said Saturnly gaily. His exuberance in situations like this perpetually amazed Neddar. �“Sit down, Mr. Whitlow. That�'s just Coldefinc conducting its legitimate business enterprises.�”
�“Coldefinc?�”
�“Sure. Columbian Defense, Inc.�”
�“Don�'t think to deceive me by any such ridiculous rigmarole,�” said Whitlow venomously. �“It's obvious that, whatever you call yourself, you�'ve seized supreme political power in your country.�”
�“Mr. Whitlow, you make me angry,�” said Saturnly genially. �“I�'m sorry, but you do. I�'m a respectable businessman.�”
�“But you conduct wars. Only governments can maintain an army and navy.�”
�“That�'s right,” said Saturnly genially. �“Come to think of it, they did maintain an army and navy — until we bought �eem up.�”
�“But it's impossible!” Whitlow was beginning to argue. �“In all worlds I have visited, it is the governments and the governments alone that conduct wars.�”
�“You amaze me,�” Neddar interjected. �“Government is the older form of social organization, business the newer. According to all natural expectations, the newer form should gradually absorb all or most of the activities of the older form.�”
�“Primitive,�” Saturnly confirmed.
�“But don�'t you have any government at all?” Whitlow demanded.
�“Sure,” said Saturnly. �“Only it doesn�'t do anything except make things legal.�”
�“An empty sham!�” said Whitlow. �“How, without armed forces, can government enforce the laws it makes?�”
�“By prestige alone,” Neddar answered. �“There was a time when religion clubbed people into becoming converts. When the center of social organization shifted elsewhere, religion had to change its methods — rather to its advantage, I believe.
�“Moreover,�” he added gravely, �“I thought you were an enemy of exercise of force by government, as in war.�”
Whitlow sat back. For a moment he had nothing to say.
�“Government incorporates us, we do the rest,�” Saturnly concluded. �“The point is, Mr. Whitlow, as I�'ve been trying to tell you, that Coldefinc is a legitimate business enterprise, working hard every minute to satisfy its customers, to make money for its stockholders, and to pay its ungrateful employees a lot higher wages than they deserve.�”
�“Customers?�” Whitlow mumbled. �“Stock…?�”
�“Sure, customers. We sell �eem defense. That�'s how we got started. Government was slipping. Crime was on the up. There were lots of disorders. There had just been a big, inconclusive war and everybody was dissatisfied. They didn�'t want any army or navy, but they did want protection. O.K., we sold it to �eem.�”
“�Now I understand!” Whitlow interjected, a whiplash quality in his voice, his eyes burning. �“We had it in our world. You'fre just the same thing, grown to monstrous proportions. Racketeers!�”
�“Mr. Whitlow!” Saturnly was on his feet. Neddar lightwrote, �“Watch yourself!” but Saturnly didn�'t even see it. �“You will make me mad. Every step of the way Coldefinc has conformed to law. Should I read you the Supreme Court decision that because it's any man�'s right to carry arms, it's all right for him to hire somebody to do it for him? Why, we�'re so clean we haven�'t done any strikebreaking — at least for outsiders. How can anything be a racket if it's completely legal?�”
Neddar lightwrote, �“Excuse me. I thought you were going to say something else. That was perfect.�”
Saturnly sat down. �“To continue where I left off at. We sold �eem defense. First, private individuals and other businesses, especially those with racketeers — we had �eem here too, Mr. Whitlow — on their necks. Then small communities that were tired of police departments that did nothing but graft. We advertised — dignified. We expanded — and so we could sell our product cheaper. Then came a war scare.�”
To give him a breather, Neddar chipped in with, �“Meanwhile, similar developments were taking place in all fields of social activity. Forrelinc — Foreign Relations, Inc. — absorbed all but the purely formal activities of the diplomatic service. Social-service companies vied as to which could sell its customers the cheapest and happiest ways of life.�”
�“Then came a war scare,�” Saturnly resumed determinedly. �“People howled for our product. Our stocks boomed. We increased our plant — for years we�'d been hiring away the best army and navy officers; now we bought the entire personnel and equipment from the government dirt cheap and used what we could of it. We started a monster sales campaign — this time to include neighboring countries. We…�”
Whitlow nervously waved for time to ask a question. His face was a study in confusions and uncertainties.
�“Do I understand you right,” he faltered incredulously. �“You�'ve really organized war…�”
�“Defense.�”
�“ — on a business basis? You sell it like any other product? You issue stock that fluctuates in value according to the failure or success of your activities?�”
�“Correct, Mr. Whitlow. That�'s why you didn�'t see any war headlines. it's all on the financial page.�”
�“And you don�'t draft soldiers…�”
�“Operatives.�”
�“…but hire them just like any other business?�”
�“Absolutely. Though a front-liner usually has to work his way up through other jobs. First in a munitions factory, so he learns all about our weapons. Next, transport and distribution, so he gets that end of it. Then maybe he gets a chance at a front-line job and the big money.�”
�“You mean to say you pay your front-line soldiers…�”
�“Operatives.�”
�“…more than anyone else?�”
�“Naturally.�”
�“But that�’s detestable,” said Whitlow righteously, as if seizing any opportunity to maintain resentment. �“In my world there are soldiers, but at least we don�'t try to gild the dungheap by paying them high wages.�”
�“What?” Saturnly asked. �“You mean in your world an operative doesn�'t get as much as a factory hand? Or doesn�'t anyone make any money?�”
�“No,” Whitlow replied angrily, �“a factory worker is well paid. We have wage scales governing such things.�”
�“But that�'s terrible,” said Saturnly. He seemed shocked. �“A front-liner has to have all kinds of skills, and besides, it's dangerous work, as dangerous as mining — maybe more — maybe almost as risky as deep-sea diving.�”
Whitlow wilted. He looked dazed. �“Then those men that rushed in here a while back — they really were talking about a strike by front-line operatives?�”
�“Sure.�”
�“But how can you allow such a thing? Surely it will enable the enemy —” Whitlow looked up, his eyes widening. �“Who is your enemy?�”
�“Right now it is the Fatherland Cartel,�” Saturnly replied breezily. �“You needn�'t worry, Mr. Whitlow — it's just a little sit-down strike the boys are having. They�'ll hold the line if they have to. The only bad thing is that it'll slow up the big push — for a while,” he added cryptically.
�“Then you�'re actually engaged in fighting a war… a real war? it's business — but at the same time it's war?�”
�“Of course, Mr. Whitlow,” Saturnly replied patiently. �“We try to defend our customers without fighting, but if we have to, we fight. Coldefinc always delivers.�”
�“And that war is like any other war? Battles, invasions, encirclement and annihilation of the enemy army?�”
�“Liquidation of his plant,” Saturnly corrected. “Though of course we�'re all businessmen and try to avoid useless waste.” He airily waved a hand. �“Oh, yes, those things happen, but they aren�'t the really important part of the war. The important part is the underlying financial situation.�”
�“Yes?” A sudden new interest lighted Whitlow�'s eyes. Neddar noted it, and his tense watchfulness was broken so far as his fingers were concerned. He lightwrote, �“Concentrate on this angle. You�'re going great. Just don�'t get excited.�”
Saturnly leaned forward, beaming. �“Mr. Whitlow, I know I can trust you. You�'re not of this world, and what�'s happening in it doesn�'t mean anything to you.�” He paused. �“Mr. Whitlow, it's a dead secret, but in a few days Coldefinc will have the Fatherland Cartel by the tail. Through disguised holding companies in neutral countries we�'ve been buying up stock in the component organizations of the cartel. The big push is mainly to scare a few people into letting go their shares. Pretty soon we�'ll have more than fifty per cent, and then, Mr. Whitlow, this war will be over like that.�” He snapped his fingers.
Whitlow goggled. �“You mean all you have to do is to get a controlling interest in the enemy organization?�”
�“Sure.�”
�“And the enemy will submit to it?�”
�“What else can they do? Business is business.�”
�“And you won�'t have to invade or annihilate them? Untold killing and destruction will be avoided? You won�'t lose many of your operatives?�”
Saturnly shrugged. �“Not more than in normal times.�”
�“Mr. Saturnly!�” Whitlow stood up. The new interest had grown to a consuming, fanatic flame. �“I have a proposal to make to you. Could you do that sort of thing for my world?” He held out his hand as if he were giving it to Saturnly.
�“Um-m-m.” Saturnly leaned back, frowning. Neddar rejoiced at the way he masked his triumph with an air of reluctance. �“I�'d have to think it over. it's a big proposition, Mr. Whitlow.�”
�“I�'d provide the means of entry,�” the pacifist continued rapidly. �“You could bring across whatever you�'d need in the way of operatives and… eh… plant.�”
�“I dunno,�” said Saturnly dubiously. �“Is there any business at all in your world, or does government run everything? If there isn�'t, it�'ll be pretty hard for us to get an in.�”
�“Oh, there�'s business, all right,�” Whitlow reassured him. �“Though at present somewhat submerged.�”
�“And are there any neutral countries? Or are they all in the war?�”
�“There are still a few neutrals.�”
Saturnly thought. Whitlow hung on his reactions.
�“Well, we�'d have to go slow at first,” Saturnly finally said ruminatively. �“There�'d be the matter of sales research, sizing up likely prospects, setting up pioneer offices, and also incorporating firms to front for us — that�'s where the neutral countries would come in handy.” He began to warm up. �“Then we build up plant and personnel — the latter mixed, from both worlds. Then feeler campaigns, trial balloons, preliminary advertising and promotion. With all that set, we really start in.�” He turned to Whitlow. �“Of course, if we get that far, there�'s no doubt of our ultimate success, because we�'ll be all business and they�'ll be just maybe half business and half government — an awful jumble.�”
Whitlow nodded eagerly. Neddar lightwrote: �“You�'ve got him, J. S.!�”
Saturnly laid his hand authoritatively on the table. �“First we sell the neutral countries — they�'ll want protection the worst way, because they won�ft know which side is going to jump them first. At the same time we start hiring out to do small jobs for the warring nations — we pose as kind of war-industrial specialists. Maybe the neutral countries get invaded and we have a chance to show our stuff. Maybe the small jobs grow into big ones. Maybe both.” He was really warmed up now. �“Either way, our stocks boom. We put in more plant, increase personnel, start a major sales campaign. People begin to have more confidence in us than in their government armies. We pick one of the big powers — whichever is slipping, it doesn�'t matter which — and buy it out. The other side — we outorganize �eem, outbuy �eem, hit �eem hard on both the financial and operational fronts. And then…�”
The phone purred. Automatically, Saturnly snatched it up and bawled into it, �“Yes?�” A wait, while Whitlow swayed forward in pale-faced, hypnotized eagerness. Then in a roar, �“What do you mean bothering me with trifles like the strike being called off when I�'m fixed with something important?” Suddenly a wicked smile fattened his face. �“Oh, it's you, Dulger? You don�'t like me sending whisky to those front-liners? Well, what would you want if you were out there in all that mud?�” From beyond the walls, making them tremble faintly, came suddenly a many-voiced rumbling. It kept on. �“Hear that, Dulger? it's the big push. Oh, you�'re going to indict me for corrupting my workers? Good. Good! Maybe some day when you start a real man he-man�'s union, I�'ll join it.�”
He turned back. His lips formed, �“And then…�”
But there had been time for his previous words to ferment in Whitlow�'s emotion-drunk soul. The pacifist�fs face was a mask of fanatic ecstasy, and his voice was hoarsely vibrant against the grumbling guns as he finished for him: �“And then, Mr. Saturnly, will come the millennium to which the nobler side of mankind has always aspired, that Utopia of perfect and gentle brotherhood which your world will so soon attain and which you will ultimately bring to mine, that purified existence from which all hatred and strife, all greed and war, have been forever banished. I refer, Mr. Saturnly, to that most precious of all blessings — peace.�”
�“WHAT!” Slowly Saturnly came to his feet, crouching bearlike. Slowly his bulging neck suffused with red, with purple. In vain Neddar plucked, tugged, jerked at his sleeve, desperately lightwrote, �“Don�'t, J. S. Don�'t! DON�'T!”, resorted to even more drastic efforts to shut him up. He might as well have tried to quiet a god. In the rapidly shifting excitement, the truth-telling mechanism buried deep in Saturnly had been set in motion and now could no more be stopped than if Saturnly had been Juggernaut�'s car.
�“You… you talk to John Saturnly of PEACE when you know War is his business?�” He loomed over the astounded pacifist like a prehistoric idol. His voice boomed from the walls. �“You�'d have me wreck a world organization that I built up with these hands? You�'d have me throw my customers to the dogs? Bankrupt my stockholders? Fire millions of loyal employees out into a world where they would drift around unemployed and help start a real mess? No, Mr. Whitlow, I�'ll gladly help you with your proposition, but you must understand that if Coldefinc tackles your world, it will be war from then on — forever!” He sucked up a great breath and drew himself erect. �“Maybe, Mr. Whitlow, you didn�'t read the motto over the door when you came in. �“When there are bigger wars, Coldefinc will wage them!��”
The pacifist shrank back in horror, shock, and fear.
�“…you —” he mumbled brokenly. Then it all came out in a whimpering rush. �“I won�'t have anything to do with you, you fiend!�”
�“Oh, yes, you will!�” Saturnly came around the table, crouching. �“You�'re going to show us how to cross time.�” He kept coming. The pacifist was wedged in a corner and fumbling with his coat. �“We�'ve been nice to you, Mr. Whitlow, but now that�'s over. I don�'t like people who try to go back on me.�” Whitlow�'s hands came out with what looked like a small gray egg. He fingered it in a panicky rhythm, and his face went blank as if he were desperately trying to concentrate on some thought. Saturnly closed in. �“We�'re going to have your secret, Mr. Whitlow, whether you get anything for it or not.” Then, suddenly, �“Stop him, Neddar! Stop him! That way! No, that way!�”
Both men dove, Saturnly with a bearlike lunge, Neddar with an incredibly pantherlike leap. They clutched air, scrambled up, looked around. Mr. Whitlow was gone.
For a long while nothing was said or done. Then, slowly, heavily, Saturnly walked back to the desk and sat down and pressed his face in his hands.
�“He faded,�” said Neddar in a voice that likewise faded. �“He got misty and went curving off… at an increasing tangent… toward an alternate future…�”
Then his rapierlike anger flashed out. His eyes seemed to spark and his black beard to crackle with the electricity of it. He whirled on Saturnly.
�“You big, honest, imbecile! How you ever got this far, even with me to do your conniving for you, I don�'t know. You had him sold. We had worlds within our grasp, worlds ripe for exploitation and conquest, worlds for sale at bargain prices, and you had to go sincere and scare him off — forever. Oh, you bumbling ape!�”
�“I know.�” Saturnly pressed his face harder. Neddar twisted his features in one last bitter grimace, then tossed it off, sighed, and almost smiled.
Saturnly peeped at him guiltily between thick fingers.
“You know, Neddy,” he said softly, �“maybe in a way it's just as well this didn�'t go any farther. You know how I think — always while I�'m doing something else. Well, while I was selling this guy I was thinking of something very different. You know, Neddy, our world is maybe kind of peculiar. We rate business and money and financial things above everything. They�'re our ultimates. If something�'s decided in a business way, it never occurs to us to try to go around it or look for any other answer. Maybe it isn�'t that way in the other worlds. I know it's hard to imagine, but maybe they wouldn�'t think of business as the ultimate. Maybe the people in those other worlds are sort of different… sort of crazy…” His voice changed, took on a note almost of relief, as he finished, �“At least, if they�'re anything like that Whitlow guy!”
Variant intro
In infinite time, all varieties of worlds can exist, as has been pointed out elsewhere. Here a pacifist named Whitlow discovers a world which he grossly misinterprets at first. Moreover, his knowledge of human nature is just as poor as his judgment, but he remains alive because of his ability to escape when the going gets tough.
Actually, the civilization pictured on this alternate world is close to what our own might be if certain trends here were to continue unchecked. This makes it an uncomfortable tale to read — which is, I am sure, just what its author meant it to be.