A Matter of Survival by E. C. Tubb

Author:E. C. Tubb
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Vision of Tomorrow
Published: 1970-06-01T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

It surprised Rasch. It knocked him a little off-balance and he said so. He was disgusted that any loyal patriot would even think in terms of self when his government so desperately needed his skill and knowledge. It should be an honor to serve and that service should be its own reward. Michelin's response was to relight his pipe.

"Calm down, General," he said. "Incidentally, how much do you get paid a year?"

"What has that got to do with it?"

"According to you the honor of wearing that uniform should be recompense enough. But you like to eat and smoke and maybe throw a few parties, eh, General? And your wife, doesn't she like a little spending money? Well, so do I. Now let's act like grown-ups and make a deal. If you agree to pay me what I asked for in my last letter to you I'll help you out. If not—" Michelin shrugged.

"All right," Rasch surrendered. After all, it wasn't his money. "Now tell me. What is the optimum team we should send out in the ships?"

"Two people."

"Two? But the psychologists..."

"...talk more often than not out of the backs of their necks." Michelin jabbed the stem of his pipe as if he were holding a sword. "Two people, General, is the basic unit of humanity. Two. Not three or four or five, but two. One man and one woman. Two people."

"But—?"

"Married, of course" said Michelin dreamily. "They have to be married and the longer the better. If the woman is expecting a blessed event then that's all to the good. A man will make a fool of himself for a wife who is expecting. He does it all the time."

"You're joking." Rasch jerked to his feet, storm-clouds gathering in his eyes. "Listen, Michelin, I didn't come all this way to be made a fool of. I came as a Government representative, seeking advice. I..."

"You got advice," snapped Michelin. "You asked for it and you got it. A married couple have between them every desirable characteristic you can imagine for what you intend. Self-preservation, self-sacrifice, all the rest of it. You doubt that? Then who the hell do you think beat a civilization out of the wilderness? A gang of bachelor hunters? Not on your life. It was the little woman wanting a warm cave and who was tired of all the moving about who drove her mate to quit playing and start working. And the poor devil hasn't stopped since."

"You're a cynic."

"I'm a bachelor," corrected Michelin. "The outsider sees most of the game, remember. But don't imagine that I hate women, on the contrary, I've the greatest admiration for them. The way they get things done—!"

He smiled and shook his head.

"Well, General, there it is. Too obvious for your own staff but it's the answer you're looking for. Send a couple out in each of your ships and pretty soon we'll own the universe."

"I don't know," protested Rasch. "I just don't know."

"You should."

"What—?" Rasch broke off as the housekeeper stuck her head into the room.

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