Astounding Science Fiction (UK Edition) — page 41: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE WEDGE “JT don’t,” said Gorov. “And if I did, it wouldn’t affect things.” “They'll kill you the second time.” Gorov shrugged. Devers said quietly, “If I'm going to negotiate with the Grand Master again, I want to know the whole story. So far, I’ve been working it too blind. As it was, the few mild remarks I did make almost threw his veneration into fits.” “It’s simple enough.” Gorov’ spoke rapidly, and in a whisper. “Here it is. The Foundation is creating a commercial em- pire here in the Periphery. The foreign policy revolves about that. We are the only source of atomic power available except for such relics of the old Empire as still exist. Every system then, whose economic back- bone we can convert from chemical and mechanical energy to atomic energy be- comes totally dependent upon us.” Devers was nodding. “That I realize. I’m a trader.” . “Right. And that’s your reason for exist- ence. Organized trade for the Foundation at present can exist only with worlds re- latively near. You traders are the outposts, the wandering peddlers, that reach regions we couldn’t otherwise for centuries, per- haps. You’re wedges, understand. You in- troduce gadgets, little atomic doodads, that open the way, increase the desire, whet the appetite.” The trader grinned, “Stop. You’re break- ing my heart.” “It’s so!” Gorov was not grinning. “And, ~ conversely, going back to the argument, any system that refuses to accept atomic gadgets is dangerous to us—” “Because such a system can never be under our economic domination?” _ ‘“‘And because it can act as a focal point for hostility.” _ “All right, then,’ said Devers, “so much for theory. Now what exactly prevents the sale. Religion? The Grand Master implied as much.” “It’s a form of ancestor worship. Their traditions tell of an evil past from which they were saved by the simple and virtuous heroes of the past generations. It amounts to a distortion of the anarchic period two centuries ago, when the imperial troops were driven out and an independent govern- ment was set up. Advanced science and atomic ‘power in particular became identified with the old imperial regime they remember with horror.” | “That so? But they have nice little ships 39 which spotted me very handily two parsecs away. That smells of atomics to me.” Gorov shrugged, “Those ships are hold- overs of the Empire, no doubt. Probably with atomic drive. What they have, they keep. The point is that they will not inno- vate, and their internal economy is entirely nonatomic. That is what we must change.” ““How were you going to do it?” “By breaking the resistance at one point. To put it simply, if I could sell a penknife with a forcefield blade to a nobleman, it would be to his interest to use it. Put that baldly, it sounds silly, but it is sound, psychologically. To make strategic sales at strategic points would be to create a pro- Atomics faction at court.” “A wedge to start the wedge towards economic domination. Wedges’ within wedges, huh? And they send you? And I’m to ransom you and leave, while you keep on trying? Isn’t that sort of tailing back- wards?” “In that way?” said Gorov, guardedly. “Listen,” Devers was suddenly exasper- ated, “you’re a diplomat, not a trader, and calling you one won’t make you one. This is a case for someone who’s made a busi- ness of selling—and I’m here with a full cargo stinking into uselessness, and a quota that won’t ever be met, it looks like.” “You mean you’re going to risk your life on something that isn’t your business?” Gorov smiled thinly. Devers said, “You mean that this is a matter of patriotism, and traders aren’t patriotic?” “Notoriously not. Pioneers never are.” “All right. [ll grant that. I don’t scoot about space to save the Foundation or any- thing like that. But I’m out to make money, and this is my chance. If it helps the Foundation at the same time, all the better. And I’ve risked my life on slimmer chances.” Devers rose, and Gorov rose with him, “What are you going to do, Devers?” The trader smiled, “Gorov, I don’t know —yet. But if the crux of the matter is to make a sale, !m your man. I’m not a boaster as a general thing, but there’s one thing I'll always back up. I’ve never ended up below quota yet.” 'The door to the cell opened almost in- stantly when he knocked, and two guards fell in on either side. “A show!” said the Grand Master, grimly. He settled himself well into his furs, and one thin hand grasped the iren eudgel he used as a cane. EOMIGIOoO <S) CO