Astounding Science Fiction (UK Edition) — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

THE IRON STANDARD whispering campaign would be squashed before we got it started. The Venusian government—the tarkomars—would simply deny that Earth had unlimited iron supplies. We wouldn’t profit, anyway.” “There must be some angle,” Underhill scowled. “There’s got to be. Let’s see. What’s the basis of the Venusian system?” “No competition,’ Mike Soaring Eagle said. ‘Everybody has all he wants.” ““Maybe. At the top. But the competitive instinct is too strong to be suppressed like that. [ll bet plenty of Venusians would like to make a few extra fals.” “Where does that get us?” Munn wanted to know. “The way my father did it... . Hm-m-m. He manipulated, pulled the wires, made people come to him. What’s the weak spot in Venusian economy?” _Munn hesitated. “Nothing we can strike at—we’re too handicapped.” Underhill shut his eyes. “The basis of an economic and social system is—what?” *“Money,” Bronson said. “No. Earth’s on the radium standard. Years ago it was gold or silver. Venus is on iron. And there’s the barter system, too. Money’s variable.” “Money represents natural resources—”’ Thirkell began. ‘““Man-hours,” Munn put in quietly. Underhill jumped. “‘That’s it! Of course —man-hours! That’s the constant. The ‘amount of production a man can turn out in an hour represents an arbitrary constant —two dollars, a dozen difals, or whatever it is. That’s the base for any economic set- up. And it’s the base we’ve got to hit. The ancestor worship, the power of the tarko- mars—they’re superficial really. Once the basic system is challenged, they'll go down.” “I don’t see where it gets us,” Thirkell said. , *““Make the man-hours variable,’ Under- hill explained. “Once we do that, anything can happen.” “Something had better happen,” Bronson said, “and quick: We've little food left.” “Shut up,” Munn said. “I think the kid’s ' got the right angle. Alter the man-hour con- stant, eh? How can we do that? Specialized training? Train a Venusian to turn out twice as much stuff in the same period of time? Skilled labor?” | “They’ve got skilled labor,” Underhill said. “If we could make ’em work faster, or increase their stamina—”’ 61 “Benzedrine plus,” Thirkell ’ interrupted. “With enough caffeine, vitamin complex, and riboflavin—I could whip up a speeder- upper, all right.” Munn nodded slowly. “Pills, not shots. If this works out, we'll have to do it under- cover after a while.” “What the devil will it get us to make the Venusians work faster?” Bronson asked. Underhill snapped his fingers. “Don’t you see? Venus is_ ultra-conservative. The economic system is frozen static. It isn’t adapted to change. There'll be hell pop- ping!” Munn said, “We'll need advertising to arouse public interest. first of all. A practical demonstration.”” He looked around the table, his gaze settling on Mike Soaring Eagle. “Looks like you’re elected, Redskin. You’ve more stamina than any of us, ac- cording to the tests we took back on Earth.” “All right,” the Navaho said. “What do I do?” “Work!” Underhill told him. you drop!” It began early the next morning in the main plaza of Vyring. Munn had checked up carefully, determined to make sure noth- ing would go wrong, and had learned that a recreation building was to be constructed on the site of the plaza. “Work won’t start for several weeks,” Jorust said. “Why?” “We want to dig a hole there,” Munn said. “Is it legal?” The Venusian smiled. “Why, of course. That’s public domain—until the contractors begin. But a demonstration of your mus- cular prowess won’t help you, I’m afraid.” “Bh?” “Tm not a fool. You’re trying to land a job. You hope to do that by advertising your abilities. But why do it in just this way? Anybody can dig .a hole. It isn’t specialized.” Munn grunted! If Jorust wanted to jump at that conclusion, swell. He said, “It pays to advertise. Put a steam shovel to work, back on Earth, and a crowd will gather to watch it. We don’t have a steam shovel, but—” “Well, whatever you like. Legally you’re within your rights. Nevertheless you can’t hold a job without joining a tarkomar.’” “Sometimes I think your planet would be a lot better off without the tarkomars,” Munn said bluntly. “Work till Jorust moved her shoulders. “Between ourselves, I have often thought so. I am ComiclOokkSs.com