“Gentlemen,” Ackoff began. “I find myself falling further behind in necessary work, so we will have to cut this short today.”

Midshipman Landry was seated across the table from Jeff. Landry looked relieved. Jeff hoped that his own face wasn’t quite as obvious, but it probably was, because Ackoff looked directly at him.

“You are amused, Mr. Jefferson?”

“No, sir.”

“You shouldn’t be. As of tomorrow you will be assisting the survey team. So will most of the rest of you. And you needn’t groan, gentlemen. The work is important.”

I suppose it is, Jeff thought. But … “Sir?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“I — do you know where I will be assigned?”

“Near Haven for the moment,” Ackoff said. “At the University.” His lips curled slightly, perhaps in a smile, perhaps something else. “We must fully understand the capabilities of the industrial base here. Get a total picture of their energy budget. Assess their ability to maintain complex technologies. Without that information we can’t know what to license for import.”

Midshipman Landry raised his hand.

“Yes?” Ackoff said.

“Trader Soliman says he already knows what he wants to import, and if he’s wrong the market place will show him up soon enough.”

“Yes. He would say that,” Ackoff said. “I don’t suppose he gave you the benefit of his thoughts on what he would import?”

“No, sir.”

“You may be certain that Mr. Soliman’s ideas will be considerably different from mine,” Ackoff said. “Luxury and convenience items, no doubt. And imbecile acts like this expedition to Makassar. It’s quite natural that Mr. Soliman wants profits for Imperial Autonetics, and it doesn’t take genius to imagine ways to accomplish that. Our task is to bring this planet smoothly into the Empire, and that may be a bit more difficult. Consider our situation, how very few we are, how expensive it will be to bring anything here. We cannot afford mistakes. The market may show up Trader Soliman, but the worst disaster he faces merely costs money. Our mistakes will cost lives — and do not deceive yourselves, we will make mistakes.”

The officers around the table looked at each other significantly. This was Ackoff’s favorite lecture, and once started it was unlikely that he’d change the subject. More importantly, he wasn’t likely to ask many questions. You could safely relax and daydream when Ackoff took that tone and spoke of the burdens of Imperial office …

“For example,” Ackoff said, “any fool knows that energy systems are the key to industrialization. Make energy cheap and plentiful, and people will figure ways to use it. But what energy systems? Satellites? This planet hasn’t the industrial base for that, and we haven’t the personnel to build either the orbital or the ground components. We’re unlikely to get enough skilled people. Scratch power satellites for a generation or more.

“Small fusion plants? Who will operate them? Who will maintain them? How many engineers do we bring in, and who will train others here? And how is the power to be distributed on a world where metals are dear and copper so scarce it’s used as jewelry? We’ll have to use organic conductors. That’s a very sophisticated technology, far too complex for a world this primitive, but I suppose we’ll have to do it even so.

“And once we begin, when we’ve made electricity cheap and plentiful — how do we control industrial developments? No matter what we do, we’re going to change the class structure of this planet. Power relationships will shift and flow in unpredictable ways. Mister Jefferson. What is our primary mission?”

“Sir?” Jeff looked up with a start and tried to recall the question. “To keep the peace.”

“Precisely. Which means that when this planet does develop an industrial base, it must be governed — well governed — by people loyal to the Empire. Governors both able and popular, at least popular enough to retain their offices without constant revolt. Yet consider this. If we are to bring them industry, we must bring in the personnel to build and operate the primary systems. How do we induce them to come here? What can we offer highly skilled people so that they will colonize a primitive world?”

“Wealth,” Landry said.

“Precisely,” Ackoff agreed. “Wealth. Opportunity. The chance to found an aristocratic family. Power indeed. But whenever you bring in an alien governing class you will inevitably breed resentment among the population. Breed enough and you can’t govern. You lose control. Whether we like it or not, Prince Samual’s World will within a few generations have the capability of building modern weapons. When that time comes, the planet must be loyalist. The alternative is almost unthinkable. Remember Istvan and Kutuzov’s choice…”

Jeff shuddered. Admiral Kutuzov had bombed an entire planet into the stone age. The alternative was the revolt of a whole sector; the alternative would have been another Secession War, Imperial planets destroyed, all of the horrors of the war years. Kutuzov had made the right choice, but it was one no sane officer wanted to face.

And, he thought, it could happen here, too. To me. Or, the other side of the coin, if I decide to become a colonist. Perhaps not to me. But to my children. Mine and Elaine’s—

The thought startled him. Was he really thinking of marriage? He barely knew her. But he didn’t want to be away from her, not for an hour, and—

It wasn’t unthinkable. She came of a good family. Imperial policy encouraged colonists to marry locals, and send down roots into the world they chose to live on.

“Hard choices, gentlemen,” Ackoff was saying. “And the decisions we make will change the history of the world. For the moment the local government cooperates with us. Even welcomes our help. We have encouraged them to believe that once they have established a planetary government, the local dynasty will remain in control. You ladies and gentlemen will naturally continue that deception as long as possible.”

“What happens when they find out we’ve been lying to them?” a consular officer asked. Her tone made it obvious that she did not approve.

“It is not precisely a lie, Miss Neville,” Ackoff said. “More a diplomatic truth—”

“Whatever we call it, they’ll find us out, and what then?” she asked.

“ ‘Find us out,’ ” Ackoff repeated. “You young people can afford phrases like that. I can’t. What will they find out? That no matter what our intentions, the experts we bring in will be more important than even the most influential locals? That the Traders and technicians and diplomatic personnel and civil servants will have the knowledge and skills to rise high during the inevitable turmoil of change to a modern society — and their traditional leaders will not? That is the real truth, far more influential than any legalities we may impose. Try as we will — and we do try — there will be no way to avoid a change of ruling elites here. For obvious reasons we mustsee that the new ruling class is loyalist. Sometimes that requires shoring up traditional leaders long after they have lost the ability to govern. Sometimes it requires replacing then. Sometimes—”

“Why can’t we just leave them alone?” Sirica Neville asked.

Ackoff shrugged. “Would that be kindness?” he asked. “Suppose we do as you suggest. Leave them alone, let them develop as they see fit. Quite aside from the fact that the inevitable revolution here could as easily cast up monsters as saints for their leaders, what are we to do if they move away from the Empire, make alliance with outies, become a threat to this sector?”

Kutuzov’s choice again, Jeff thought. There’s got to be a better way than that …

“So I leave you to contemplate our burden,” Ackoff said. “We must not fail.” He glanced at his pocket computer. “And now, as it is getting late, I’ll let you go. Please stand for the pledge of allegiance …”