Reluctant Farmer / Неохотен фермер: Reluctant Farmer

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“I’m not sure. You tell me.”

#151

“Tobacco isn’t an easy crop to grow,” explained Jelkson. “By that I mean that it isn’t easy to breed true, not when subjected to alien radiation. I don’t know why that is, but experience has taught us never to rely on it as a staple. It doesn’t seem incredible to me that the seeds of say, a second or third generation crop should display odd tendencies. Number seven is a perfect example of what I mean. One day a perfectly normal appearing crop, the next rotten with disease.”

#152

“There were spores in the boxes, Jelkson, not disease,” reminded King. “Can you explain how they could have got there?”

#153

“Could it have been by accident?” Susan didn’t blush as she made the suggestion, but the tone of her voice gave the impression that she did. If anything it made her even more attractive and Kenton wished that she wasn’t so introverted. Career women were the very devil, especially when they were shy and doubly so when they chose a man like Jelkson to be their guiding star.

#154

“Naturally,” admitted the accountant. “But for any such accident to have taken place would mean that someone was criminally careless.”

#155

“Not necessarily.” Thorpe spoke for the first time through a screen of tobacco smoke. “Accidents happen all the time. If I understand what you are hinting then it wasn’t an accident at all.” He removed the pipe from his mouth, examined the bowl and poked at it with a seemingly fireproof finger. “Did you make any investigations?”

#156

“We did what we could,” said King. “The results were negative. Either it was a pure accident, in which case the spores must have contaminated the seeds before packaging, or someone in the packaging sheds introduced them. In either case the spores must have been introduced, whether by accident or design, sometime during harvesting and the sealing of the boxes.”

#157

“I disagree,” said Jelkson. “There is another method which you haven’t mentioned. The seed boxes are only fibre board overlaid with thin metal. Assuming that someone wanted to introduce spores into the seeds he could have done so with a slender instrument.”

#158

“Such as a hypodermic needle?” Thorpe looked intently at the botanist. “Is that what you mean?”

#159

“A hypodermic needle would be ideal,” said Jelkson evenly.

#160

“Yes,” said Thorpe dryly, “I suppose it would.” He glanced at King. “Did any of the boxes show any signs of puncturing?”

#161

“No.” King glanced at Jelkson. “Have you changed your mind about it being a coincidence?”

#162

“Of course not. I was merely theorising. I say that the introduction of the spores was the result of an accident. It’s incredible to think that it could be otherwise.”

#163

“We’re getting nowhere,” said Perchon abruptly. “Talking about the lost seeds won’t replace them.” He looked at Kenton. “I understand now, Dan, why you blew your top. Forget any apologies you may think you owe me. This thing is more serious than I thought.”

#164

“Serious?” Jelkson shrugged. “Surely that depends on the point of view. Admitting that the loss of any crop is serious, yet it could have been worse. Our staples are unharmed and, even if we do lose our tobacco, it can’t really harm us.”

#165

“No?” King pursed his lips as he looked at the botanist. “For a man with so much brains, Jelkson, you seem awfully dumb. Don’t you realise that tobacco is the most profitable crop we can grow? With those profits we subsidise our other produce. Lose those profits and up go the price of our staples. Let them rise too high and the competition will step in and, maybe, the government. Aside from anything else we are paid on a profit-sharing percentage and, unless you’ve forgotten about it, lost profits hurt us where it hurts most—in the pocket. Unless we can replace our tobacco it will pay us to work as common labourers. That is unless the government step in and make us work for our keep as they can do under the emergency laws.”

#166

“What would happen then?” asked Susan. She was fairly new to the hydroponic farms and was still full of idealism. King doubted whether she had ever once thought of the financial juggling that went on behind the scenes.

#167

“The emergency laws were passed to safeguard our people against exploitation,” explained the accountant. “If the price of food rises too high the government have powers to step in and operate the plant under martial law. They will conscript us and concentrate on producing basic yeast. Home Office will send out a new staff and we will face an inquiry.”

#168

“But nothing can happen to us, can it? I mean they can’t hurt us, can they?”

#169

“Deliberate sabotage of any crop, seed, building, plant, machinery or anything which could lead to hindrance or damage to farming is punishable by first degree execution,” said King. “I won’t tell you what first degree execution is but it isn’t pleasant. In fact, it’s the most unpleasant death the experts could dream up. For minor things like incompetence, bad management and criminal negligence the penalties range from life imprisonment to a heavy fine.” King shrugged. “You should read the small print on your contract, it’s all written down there.”

#170

“But that only applies to us, doesn’t it? Not the general staff.”

#171

“Paid servants can be fired or, if the Controller sees fit, reported to the government authority for the above penalties.” King grinned at her shocked expression. “That’s right. Susan, in a way Kenton has the power of life and death. Now you know why you should be nice to him.”

#172

The joke, Kenton thought, was in bad taste. He was responsible for the entire farm but, because he was responsible, his position carried the heaviest penalties. He rapped on the table to attract attention.

#173

“I think it time we discovered something more important,” he said curtly. “I still want to discover how the crop became contaminated in the first place. Jelkson, have you anything to say?”

#174

“A little. The disease is extremely virulent. The progression of decay is fantastic, the crop now is totally infected and is in actual process of disintegration. In view of the rapid degeneration of the crop I hesitate to perform further tests for fear of spreading the contamination.”

#175

“Is the disease recognisable?”

#176

“No. However that means nothing. It must be a virus, probably a mutated strain, and the progress of the infection bears out my previous decision. Utter destruction and sterilisation is the only answer.”

#177

“Agreed.” Kenton glanced at Perchon. “And you?”

#178

“I can’t help you,” said the young man miserably. “I took all precautions and simply cannot account for the infection. Unless, of course, the disease was inherent in the plants themselves.”

#179

“Could that be so, Jelkson?”

#180

“In this case I doubt it. Inherent disease is always possible, of course, but the shocking speed of actual decomposition is against it. At first I thought that it was inherent but it is hard to believe that the crop could have grown so well without previous signs of infection.” Jelkson held up his hand to halt Kenton’s instinctive reply.

#181

“Before you blame Perchon let me make one thing clear. He was the only one to enter number seven. He has worked in other buildings, the crops of which show no signs of harm. I believe him when he says that he has taken all precautions.”

#182

“So do I,” said Kenton abruptly, and Perchon smiled with sudden relief. “But that doesn’t help us. You say that the disease is not inherent?”

#183

“I do.”

#184

“Then it must have been introduced?”

#185

“Yes.”

#186

“That settles it. The seeds were one thing, the crop another. Add them both together and there is only one answer.” Kenton drew a deep breath. “Someone deliberately sabotaged our crop.”

#187

His voice carried the hate of all men for anyone who would strike at the very roots of their existence.

#188

Phorisci, the Denebian, smiled as an aide announced his visitor. Tall, thin, humanoid and, aside from his cat-eyes and blue-tinted skin, almost man-like, he bowed as he offered Jelkson a chair.

#190

He had been eating, the plate on his desk half-filled with succulent vegetables and synthetic meat, but Jelkson knew that one mouthful of the appetising food would double him in a fit of retching and more would kill him as surely as prussic acid.

#191

“I am intruding,” said Jelkson. “I apologise. If you would prefer me to call some other time…?”

#192

“Think nothing of it.” Phorisci spoke Terran with scarcely a trace of accent. “If it does not offend your sight to see me partake of nourishment I would be happy for you to remain. I will soon finish and then be able to entertain you.”

#193

Jelkson nodded. He knew enough of the habits of the Denebians to know that he was being particularly favoured. Food, to them, was merely fuel. They ate to stay alive and not for pleasure. Unlike the Terrestrials they had never evolved a complex ceremonial about the necessity of eating and, while not forbidden; it was considered impolite for anyone to watch another partaking of his food.

#194

Phorisci ate swiftly, almost mechanically, lifting his food to his mouth and chewing it as if it were a duty. Jelkson waited until the plate had been emptied.

#195

“May I smoke in your presence?”

#196

“Certainly.” Phorisci leaned back and watched with interest as Jelkson lit a cigarette. The Denebians did not smoke and, of all the intelligent races as yet contacted, Earthmen were the only ones addicted to the illogical, utterly unreasonable habit of paying money for the dubious privilege of inhaling smoke.

#197

“Thank you.” Normally Jelkson smoked very little. He smoked now for no other reason than that the air in the Denebian farm was heavy with the taint of alien chemicals. Tobacco smoke effectively numbed his olfactory passages.

#198

“I trust that your visit is of a social nature?” Phorisci’s eyes strayed to a side table on which a chessboard and men were set out ready for play. “I have a new gambit which I think will interest you. It is something one of our technicians developed and, though I say it without boasting, it is beautiful in its complex logic.”

#199

“That is interesting,” said Jelkson sincerely. “Have you worked out the counter-moves?”

#200

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