Professor Feldman sat beside the Police Chief who
was waiting to see Cesare to ask whether he knew
anything about the Air Force general who had, it
seemed, jumped to his death from the roof of the
building a few days ago.The professor had been
talking about this with the policeman, and was
shocked to discover that it was the same general he
had been waiting with up to a week ago.The other
general, who was still there waiting, said he
couldn't help in the investigation.
'Checkmate,' Professor Feldman said, after eight
moves.
'Are you sure?' said the foreign minister, leaning
closer to inspect the board.Feldman was about to
reply when the young secretary came over and
tapped him on the shoulder.
'Professor Feldman?'
'Yes?'
'Would you like to go in?Mr Borges will see you
now.'
The young secretary went back to his seat.The
professor looked around at the others, aghast.They
were glaring at him with that special contempt
reserved by the envious for the undeserving.The
remaining general sneered openly at him and
glanced meaningfully down at the patchwork of
ribbons that covered one side of his chest.The
professor gathered up his papers in total silence
and gave his lunchbox and magazines to the
policeman.He pulled his tie straight and walked as
steadily as he could to the door, still wondering
why he had been summoned before people who
had been waiting much longer than he had.
Cesare Borges straightened his tie, put the edition
of National Geographic away, and emptied the
small box containing the names of the rest of the
people sitting in the outer-outer office into the
waste-bin.Professor Feldman's slip of paper was
marking Cesare's place in the magazine.
'Well?' he said when Professor Feldman walked
into the room.Cesare motioned him to sit in a seat
in front of the massive desk.Feldman sat down and
cleared his throat.He took some papers and spread
them deferentially on Cesare's desk.
'Well, sir, these are some of the projects we've
been working on in this, the first phase of what I
like to call -'
'What's this?' snorted Cesare, holding up a piece of
paper with a drawing on it.
'That?That's ah that's a new design of mud-press
for constructing bricks in a low-technology
situation.'
Cesare looked at him.He picked up another bit of
paper.
'And this?'
'That's a section through a new, low-cost, long-life
toilet we've designed for when water is at a
premium.'
'You've spent two million of the firm's money
designing a john ?' Cesare said huskily.
'Well, sir, it's very important.It's just one
component in a whole system of low-cost, high-use
interdependent facilities which have been designed
to be of facility in the Third World.Of course, the
development costs will probably be recouped in
production, though it was agreed that it would be
very good for the overall image of the company
and the associated universities if there was no
actual profit component included in the eventual
selling price.'
'It was?' said Cesare.
The professor coughed nervously. 'So I believe,
sir.That was at the last shareholders' meeting.The
grant for the project as a whole dates from then,
although the preliminary viability study was first -'
'Just a minute,' Cesare said, holding up one hand
and putting the other to the buzzing intercom. 'Yes?'
'Call on line two, sir.'
Cesare picked up the phone.Feldman sat back and
wondered what was going to happen.Cesare said,
'Are you sure? And this could definitely be used?
This had better be right.OK.Hold everything; I'm
coming out there.' He put down the phone and hit a
button on the intercom set. 'Get the helicopter and
have the jet ready.'
'Ah Mr Borges -' Professor Feldman began as
Cesare opened a drawer in his desk and took out a
travelling bag.Cesare held up one hand.
'Not now, doc; I got to move.Just wait in the outer-
outer office until I send for you.I won't be long.So
long.'
With that he was gone, into his private elevator
and on up to the roof to his private helicopter
which would fly him to an I.M.C.C. airstrip where
his private jet would be waiting.The young
secretary came into the office and ushered
Professor Feldman and his papers back out into the
outer-outer office, where nobody talked to him and
the foreign minister and the Police Chief were
playing chequers on his chess board.
'Black Holes!' Matriapoll said loudly.
'What's wrong, Matty?' said Oney.The three of
them were watching a complicated array of lights
and screens in the control cabin.The system and
surrounding space was shown diagrammatically,
and a little red light had just appeared next to the
third planet, counting out from the star.
'I'll tell you what's wrong,' said Matriapoll,
clicking his brows with annoyance. 'That