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Impact
by
Ann sat waiting, ramrod straight, in front of a green-tinged projectoscope. She made no compromise with the heat, which had driven the men to strip to their fatigue shorts. Ann wore the full, formal uniform. A less strong-willed woman might have appeared wilted after a day’s work. Ann’s face was expressionless, a block of cold ivory. Only a faint mist of perspiration on her upper lip betrayed her acute discomfort.
“You came promptly, Mr. Lord.” There was a faint gleam of triumph in her eyes. “That was good of you.”
She unfolded her brother’s note and gave it to Lord. It was a clear, straight-forward statement of fact. Don Howard said he was deserting the mission, relinquishing his Federation citizenship. “I’m staying on this world; these people have something priceless, Ann. All my life I’ve been looking for it, dreaming of it. You wouldn’t understand how I feel, but nothing else–nothing else–matters, Ann. Go home. Leave these people alone. Don’t try to make them over.”
The last lines rang in sympathy with Lord’s own feelings, and he knew that was absurd. Changes would have to be made when the trade city was built. That was Lord’s business. Expansion and progress: the lifeblood of the Federation.
“What do you want me to do?” he demanded.
“Go after Don and bring him back.”
“And if he refuses–“
“I won’t leave him here.”
“I have no authority to force him against his will, Ann.”
“I’m sure you can get help from this–” her lip curled “–this native girl of yours. What’s her name?”
“Niaga.”
“Oh, yes; Niaga. Quaint, isn’t it?” She smiled flatly.
He felt an almost irresistible urge to smash his fist into her jaw. Straight-laced, hopelessly blind to every standard but her own–what right did Ann have to pass judgment on Niaga? It was a rhetorical question. Ann Howard represented the Federation no less than Lord did himself. By law, the teachers rode every trading ship; in the final analysis, their certification could make or break any new planetary franchise.
* * * * *
“Niaga has been very helpful, Ann; cooperative and–“
“Oh, I’m sure she has, Mr. Lord.”
“I could threaten to cut off Don’s bonus pay, I suppose, but it wouldn’t do much good; money has no meaning to these people and, if Don intends to stay here, it won’t mean much to him, either.”
“How you do it, Mr. Lord, is not my concern. But if Don doesn’t go home with us–” She favored him with another icy smile. “I’m afraid I’ll have to make an adverse report when you apply for the franchise.”
“You can’t, Ann!” Lord was more surprised than angry. “Only in the case of a primitive and belligerent culture–“
“I’ve seen no evidence of technology here.” She paused. “And not the slightest indication that these people have any conception of moral values.”
“Not by our standards, no; but we’ve never abandoned a planet for that reason alone.”
“I know what you’re thinking, Mr. Lord. Men like you–the traders and the businessmen and the builders–you’ve never understood a teacher’s responsibility. You make the big noise in the Federation; but we hold it together for you. I’m not particularly disturbed by the superficials I’ve seen here. The indecent dress of these people, their indolent villages, their congenital irresponsibility–all that disgusts me, but it has not affected my analysis. There’s something else here–something far more terrible and more dangerous for us. I can’t put it in words. It’s horrible and it’s deadly; it’s the reason why our men have deserted. They’ve had attractive women on other worlds–in the trade cities, anything money could buy–but they never jumped ship before.”
“A certain percentage always will, Ann.” Lord hoped he sounded reassuring, but he felt anything but reassured himself. Not because of what she said. These naive, altogether delightful people were harmless. But could the charming simplicity of their lives survive the impact of civilization? It was this world that was in danger, not by any stretch of the imagination the Federation.