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course, that if we do get the charter back, you'll be out of a job."
Rainsford chuffed on his pipe. "No; I'll be out of this job-" He lifted his
eyes toward the ceiling. "-something I have been devoutly hoping for ever
since Alex Napier shoe-horned me into it."
Grego stubbed out his cigarette and held out his glass for the refill
Rainsford preferred from the now unstoppered jug. Rainsford set the jug back
on the coffee table. Both men looked at each other for a moment.
"The Company," Grego said, "in such an eventuality, would petition that you be
retained as Resident-General." "I don't want to be Resident-General,"
Rainsford insisted, "or Governor General. I want to go back over to Beta and
help out at Fuzzy Institute."
"Well," Grego said, "there's no blinding rush to come to a decision at this
point. I just wanted you to know that I think you've been doing pretty good,
and-" The chiming of the entry door interrupted. Rainsford leaped to his feet.
"Ah!" he said. "That will be-mmmmm-" He rummaged around in his pocket, took
out a slip of paper, and read from it. "The Right Reverend Father Thomas
Aquinas Gordon. We will now see what's what with this so-called whiskey priest
who's supposed to be holding Junktown together with his fingernails. I want
your opinion about his young fella, Victor. That's the main reason I asked you
over here." He straightened his bush jacket and started for the door.
Outside, The Rev put the palm of his hand in front of his face, blew at it and
quickly inhaled through his nose-for perhaps the twentieth time since leaving
the mission. It wouldn't make a good first impression for his breath to betray
the fact that he'd had a couple of bracers beforehand. Meetings with Colonial
Governors General were not occurrences that happened to him frequently. He was
nervous, but his head was quite clear. That was the trouble; his head was
always clear. Perhaps the true loss of innocence occurred when one reached the
point of being able to see through every sham, con-game, deliberate lie, and
frailty to which the human spirit was subject.
"And they wonder why I drink," he muttered to himself, just as the door was
opened by a rumpled little man with bristly red whiskers, who looked like he
had just come out of the deep woods.
"Father Gordon," Rainsford said cheerfully, shaking hands with his visitor,
"do come in. I've been looking forward to meeting you." Rainsford ushered him
into the living room. "I've been hearing lots of good things about you, and I
wanted to meet you. I'd like your opinion on something."
As the introductions were being made, Grego thought, Says he isn't qualified
to be Governor General. Faugh! I haven't heard such a smooth line of patter
since the last time I talked to someone I wanted to get on my side.
"We were just about to have another drink, Father," Rainsford said. "Will you
join us?"
"I'd be delighted," The Rev said.
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"Anything in particular you'd like?" Rainsford asked.
The Rev chuckled engagingly and nodded his head. "If you pour it, Governor,
I'll drink it."
"Fine," Rainsford said. "Just fine. Well, I'll be back in a moment. You and
Mr. Grego can be getting acquainted."
This is rich, The Rev thought. Here's a chance to look over this guy
Christiana's all out of shape about-and he doesn't even know she's been
pouring her heart out to me about him.
No sooner had Rainsford returned from the kitchen than the Fuzzies came
rushing in with an empty plate and hopeful looks on their faces. The Rev was
momentarily startled. He had heard a lot about Fuzzies, but never really seen
one in person.
Grego handled the introductions.
"They certainly seem trusting," The Rev said to Grego and Rainsford.
He was startled again when Diamond spoke. "We know good Hagga from bad Hagga,"
he said. " 'Sides, you come see Pappy Vic and Unka Ben. That make you hokay,
too." He scratched his head. "Unka Wev," he said thoughtfully. "Not know name
Eke Unka Wev."
"Come on, now, Diamond," Grego said. "It's Rev, with an 'R,' Auntie K'istanna
has been teaching you about 'R.' Now try to say Unk Rev."
Diamond screwed up his tiny face. "Ehr-hev," he managed. "Eh-rhev." He took a
deep breath. "UnkaRrrrrev," he said. It still gargled a bit, but the
pronunciation was coming through. Diamond looked pleased.
The Rev took a long sip at his drink and studied Diamond. Diamond studied him
back, with his little head cocked over to one side.
"Remarkable," The Rev said. "I used to think people were exaggerating the
humanity of Fuzzies." He made a quick, noncommittal gesture. "But, then, I've
always thought they exaggerated the humanity of Terrans, too." "Everyone
thinks that-until they meet a Fuzzy," Grego said. "I used to think it. In
fact, I blush to think what I used to think about Fuzzies."
"They're little people-just like us-" The Rev said, "-except they're covered
with soft, golden fur."
"Not exactly like us," Rainsford said. "Nature never makes exact
duplications-even in character. However, Fuzzies are a totally sane race. And,
they cannot be driven insane. They know the difference between right and
wrong, good and bad-and their ethical system is highly developed, more highly
developed than ours, I'm bound to think. For example, they have no concept at
all of crime or doing hurt to another in any premeditated way."
Diamond made a sweeping gesture to include everyone in the room-Terrans and
Fuzzies. "Make friend, make help, have fun; is only way be good. Hagga-" He
made a pointing gesture, with his fingers spread, toward the Terrans. "-Big
Ones-make good place for Fuzzies, keep Fuzzies from hurt. Big Ones make dead
dem things hurt Fuzzies; make dead thehah'pie, the dam'ting, and make dead Bad
Big Ones. Fuzzies love Hagga. So much-many-many-for Hagga to teach Fuzzies."
"You see what I mean about ethical systems, Father Gordon?" Rainsford said.
The Rev abruptly turned his attention from Diamond, at whom he had been
staring in rapt attention. "Oh," he said absently. "Please call me Rev. Every
time someone says 'Father Gordon' I get the uncomfortable feeling that my
dowdy old bishop has come around to check up on me." Rainsford chuckled,
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