LITMIR.BIZ

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of legalistics I’ve ever seen,” Kennon said bluntly. “If that’s the best you can offer, I wouldn’t touch the job with a pair of forceps.”

      Alexander smiled. “I see you read the fine print,” he said. There was quiet amusement in his voice. “So you don’t like the contract?”

      “No sensible man would. I’m damned if I’ll sign commitment papers just to get a job. No wonder you’re having trouble getting professional help. If your contracts are all like that it’s’ a wonder anyone works for you.”

      “We have no complaints from our employees,” Alexander said stiffly.

      “How could you? If they signed that contract you’d have a perfect right to muzzle them.”

      “There are other applicants for this post,” Alexander said.

      “Then get one of them. I wouldn’t be interested.”

      “A spaceman’s ticket is a good thing to have,” Alexander said idly. “It’s a useful ace in the hole. Besides, you have had three other job offers—all of which are good even though they don’t pay fifteen Ems a year.”

      Kennon did a quick double take. Alexander’s investigative staff was better than good. It was uncanny.

      “But seriously, Dr. Kennon, I am pleased that you do not like that contract. Frankly, I wouldn’t consider employing you if you did.”

      “Sir?”

      “That contract is a screen. It weeds out the careless, the fools, and the unfit in one operation. A man who would sign a thing like that has no place in my organization.” Alexander chuckled at Kennon’s blank expression. “I see you have had no experience with screening contracts.”

      “I haven’t,” Kennon admitted. “On Beta the tests are formal. The Medico-Psych Division supervises them.”

      “Different worlds, different methods,” Alexander observed. “But they’re all directed toward the same goal. Here we aren’t so civilized. We depend more on personal judgment.” He took another contract from one of the drawers of his desk. “Take a look at this. I think you’ll be more satisfied.”

      “If you don’t mind, I’ll read it now,” Kennon said.

      Alexander nodded.

      * * *

      “It’s fair enough,” Kennon said, “except for Article Twelve.”

      “The personal privilege section?

      “Yes.”

      “Well, that’s the contract. You can take it or leave it.”

      “I’ll leave it,” Kennon said. “Thank you for your time.” He rose to his feet, smiled at Alexander, and turned to the door. “Don’t bother to call your receptionist,” he said. “I can find my way out.”

      “Just a minute, Doctor,” Alexander said. He was standing behind the desk, holding out his hand.

      “Another test?” Kennon inquired.

      Alexander nodded. “The critical one,” he said. “Do you want the job?”

      “Of course.”

      “Without knowing more about it?”

      “The contract is adequate. It defines my duties.”

      “And you think you can handle them?”

      “I know I can.”

      “I notice,” Alexander observed, “that you didn’t object to other provisions.”

      “No, sir. They’re pretty rigid, but for the salary you are paying I figure you should have some rights. Certainly you have the right to protect your interests. But that Article Twelve is a direct violation of everything a human being should hold sacred besides being a violation of the Peeper Laws. I’d never sign a contract that didn’t carry a full Peeper rider.”

      “That’s quite a bit.”

      “That’s the minimum,” Kennon corrected. “Naturally, I won’t object to mnemonic erasure of matters pertaining to your business once my contract’s completed and I leave your employment. But until then there will be no conditioning, no erasures, no taps, no snoopers, and no checkups other than the regular periodic psychans. I’ll consult with you on vacation time and will arrange it to suit your convenience. I’ll even agree to emergency recall, but that’s the limit.” Kennon’s voice was flat.

      “You realize I’m agreeing to give you a great deal of personal liberty,” Alexander said. “How can I protect myself?”

      “I’ll sign a contingency rider,” Kennon said, “if you will specify precisely what security matters I am not to reveal.”

      “I accept,” Alexander said. “Consider yourself hired.” He touched a button on his desk. “Prepare a standard 2-A contract for Dr. Jac Kennon’s signature. And attach two riders, a full P-P-yes, no exceptions—and a security-leak contingency, Form 287-C. Yes—that’s right—that one. And strike out all provisions of Article Twelve which conflict with the Peeper Laws. Yes. Now—and finish it as soon as you can.” He touched another button. “Well, that’s that,” he said. “I hope you’ll enjoy being a member of our group.”

      “I think I shall,” Kennon said. “You know, sir, I would have waived part of that last demand if you had cared to argue.”

      “I know it,” Alexander said. “But what concessions I could have wrung from you would be relatively unimportant beside the fact that you would be unhappy about them later. What little I could have won here, I’d lose elsewhere. And since I want you, I’d prefer to have you satisfied.”

      “I see,” Kennon said. Actually he didn’t see at all. He looked curiously at the entrepreneur. Alexander couldn’t be as easy as he seemed. Objectivity and dispassionate weighing and balancing were nice traits and very helpful ones, but in the bear pit of galactic business they wouldn’t keep their owner alive for five minutes. The interworld trade sharks would have skinned him long ago and divided the stripped carcass of his company between them.

      But Outworld was a “respected” company. The exchange reports said so—which made Alexander a different breed of cat entirely. Still, his surface was perfect—polished and impenetrable as a duralloy turret on one of the latest Brotherhood battleships. Kennon regretted he wasn’t a sensitive. It would be nice to know what Alexander really was.

      “Tell me, sir,” Kennon asked. “What are the real reasons that make you think I’m the man you want?”

      “And you’re the young man who’s so insistent on a personal privacy rider,” Alexander chuckled. “However, there’s no harm telling you. There are several reasons.

      “You’re from a culture whose name is a byword for moral integrity. That makes you a good risk so far as your ethics are concerned. In addition you’re the product of one of the finest educational systems in the galaxy-and you have proven your intelligence to my satisfaction. You also showed me that you weren’t a spineless ‘yes man.’ And finally, you have a spirit of adventure. Not one in a million of your people would do what you have done. What more could an entrepreneur ask of a prospective employee?”

      Kennon sighed and gave up. Alexander wasn’t going to reveal a thing.

      “All I hope,” Alexander continued affably, “is that you’ll find Outworld Enterprises as attractive as did your predecessor Dr. Williamson. He was with us until he died last month—better than a hundred years.”

      “Died rather young, didn’t he?”

      “Not exactly, he was nearly four hundred when he joined us. My grandfather was essentially conservative. He liked older men, and Old Doc was one of his choices—a good one, too. He was worth every credit

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