[This is not a "sex story". It is a story about a society where people have superfast reflexes... and guns.]
Chapter 8: A Meeting With Mo
"Surface to air missiles?" said the Chief. "What on August would they use those for?"
"You mean, what would they have used them for?" said Croft, grinning, accentuating the fact that he had destroyed them.
The holo of the Chief nodded, smiling slightly. "Very well, Mr. Croft, you have earned a bit of praise. But what was their purpose?"
"I don't know," said Croft.
"Have you gleaned anything else from your listening devices?"
"Not really," said Croft. Most of the conversations he had monitored were mundane. Either Quandry held his important conversations somewhere else, or he had figured out that his ranch was being monitored.
"Then continue with your primary mission. Talk to more elites."
"Chief, every time I talk to elites I get attacked by gunmen."
"You seem able to handle yourself well."
"There's a limit to the number of tricks even I can pull," said Croft.
"All right," said the Chief. "Spend one more day at it and then we'll regroup and consider our options. Agreed?"
Croft mumbled something.
"Very good." Her holographic image faded.
"She seemed almost pleased with you today," said Tane.
"Yes, very nice," said Croft, distracted. "So, where are we going today to give someone else a chance to kill me?"
"I've set up a meeting with one of the foremost psychiatrists on Grafton," said Tane.
"Good, I feel I need to have my head examined," said Croft.
The Clapper clapped.
"And make sure you book extra time for the Clapper as well," Croft added.
********
"-I'm not a psychiatrist, Mr. Croft," said Arn Arco. Arco didn't look like a typical Graftonite. He had sandy brown hair, wore old fashioned glasses, and his face had a softer edge.
Croft, having monitored the grisly conversation where Quandry had learned of his identity, realized there was no longer any reason to operate under his alias.
"Not a psychiatrist?" said Croft, casting a glance at Tane.
"Well, perhaps I am the closest thing to a psychiatrist on Grafton," said Arco. "You have to understand, there are no mentally ill people on Grafton."
"Let me guess; 'If you're mentally ill, don't come to Grafton'," said Croft wryly.
"Yes, well, if by that you mean that there aren't a lot of social services here for the mentally ill, you're correct. In fact, the mentally ill don't survive very long here," said Arco.
"And why is that?" Croft asked, although he already guessed the answer.
"The mentally ill tend to be ill-mannered in public; and on Grafton, if you're ill-mannered, it's best if you be a good gunfighter; unfortunately, the mentally ill rarely are," said Arco.
"So if I were a paranoid schizophrenic with a gold medal from your shooting Olympics, I'd do just fine here?"
"I wouldn't phrase it that way, but... well, actually, the way you phrase it works too," said Arco. "But getting back to what I am, I am a culturist."
"Culturist?"
"Ah... sociologist, you might call it. I study the culture of Grafton, our dynamics, what makes us what we are on a societal level."
Arco was the equivalent of a sociologist. He had been ridiculed roundly by his peers for years for having little interest in bounty hunting or mercenary work, and the criticism got so bad that one of his neighbors started calling him a "sheep". But after Arco shot his neighbor in a friendly dispute, the public criticism of him abated.
Unlike most Graftonites, Arco was interested in the why of things, a question most Graftonites weren't even interested in. In a sense he was an outcast on his own planet.
"I see," said Croft. "I'm curious; how much demand is there for... your kind of work here?"
"None," said Arco promptly, with a smile. "I mostly publish my papers in off-planet journals. I have to supplement my meager income by hiring myself out to kill people."
Croft raised an eyebrow. He felt his body temperature rise slightly, and he shifted in his seat.
Arco smiled again. "Oh, I have a code of ethics, Mr. Croft. I only kill those who have killed others. It's so unfortunately rare for people in my profession to have such ethics, wouldn't you say?"
Croft thought it was time to tactfully change the subject. "Ah, getting back to the purpose of our visit-"
"Ah, yes, you want to learn more about the culture of my people. But that would take years, Mr. Croft. Can you be more specific?" Arco asked.
"For years the Graftonites have been content to hire themselves out as bounty hunters and bodyguards and the like," said Croft. "Now all of a sudden they're all becoming militant and talking about war. Can you tell me why the sudden change?"
Arco nodded. "The answer is simple, Mr. Croft. It resolves around fairness."
"Fairness?"
"You are probably familiar with the death of Rel Cadwalader, yes?"
Croft nodded.
"It really enraged people," said Arco. "Not because he was killed (because a number of people are killed every day on Grafton), but in the way he was killed. A sneak attack by multiple opponents."
"But I have seen Graftonites attack in groups before, or launch surprise attacks," said Croft.
"Were they one on one encounters?" Arco asked. "Or was the Grafton vastly outnumbered, or part of a group attacking another group? The rules for war are different, you see. But one on one encounters are supposed to be fair. The rule of law has been replaced by the rule of ability. If one cheats the rules, one risks societal disapproval."
"Which can be quite lethal, I see," said Croft. "But you were explaining how this ties in with the current situation."
"Well, the unfairness of his death enraged the population. It cast sheep--begging your pardon, off-worlders in quite a bad light. Previously, off-worlders hadn't been held in the highest of regards, but they were never as intensely disliked as they are now."
"Because they don't kill by the rules?" Croft asked. "Because they don't play right?"
"Play right? Yes, that's one way of putting it," said Arco, smiling a little. "There is another strand to it, of course, the fight for civil rights."
"So Quandry is invading other planets to fight for all of your 'civil rights'?" said Croft.
"Precisely!" said Arco. "We on Grafton believe that one should be rewarded based on one's ability. For centuries we've taken jobs as bounty hunters, killers, item locators, and other high risk positions. While our pay has been higher than what you would think of in traditional professions, it has still only been a fraction of the reward."
"How do you mean?"
"For example, an associate of mine recently was hired to terminate a business rival on Selekaris," said Arco. "This rival ran a multimillion credit business which was a competitor to the client who hired my associate. My associate was paid 75,000 credits to eliminate the rival. But the elimination of the rival led to the collapse of the rival's company, leading to gains of millions of credits for the client. Imagine that! A gain of millions of credits, and my associate was only paid in five figures."
"I almost feel sorry for the killer," said Croft ironically.
Arco frowned. "I note your sarcasm, Mr. Croft. But consider that the rival had bodyguards. It was a dangerous mission. With the reward so high, my associate should have had a greater share of the rewards, because it was his superior ability that made it possible to eliminate the rival."
"Then why not do something more peaceful, such as going on strike," Croft suggested.
"In our culture, invading other planets is the equivalent of going on strike," said Arco. "It's our way of getting noticed."
"It certainly attracts attention," said Croft.
"Thank you."
"I'm surprised that a scholarly 'culturist' such as yourself would endorse such violent means," said Croft.
"But I don't," said Arco.
Croft looked surprise.
"I merely said I understand the cultural imperative. I didn't say I agree with it."
"Do you?"
"No. I hope this doesn't offend you to say this, but off-worlders can't help being inferior to us. I think they should be pitied, I think, rather than punished," said Arco. He wasn't trying to mock Croft; he was just expressing his honest feelings.
"A most enlightened perspective." Croft commented.
"I support a more moderate solution," said Arco.
"Which is?"
"Quandry is promoting a conference next week to work out a solution involving the payment of transfer fees to cement galactic unity."
"You mean the blackmail payments."
"I prefer to think of them as economic exchanges which will promote greater harmony," said Arco.
"What if the League doesn't pay up?"
"Then the results could be most tragic, for the League," said Arco, looking sad.
"Do you really want to see a wider war?" Croft asked.
"As I've stated, I do not."
"Then what can we do to stop it?"
"I'm not sure you can," said Arco. "Quandry has done an extraordinary thing, uniting our people."
"Uniting? I thought he only has one or two percent of the population who actively supported him."
"For one or two percent of Graftonites to agree on anything is considered unification," said Arco. "And a much greater proportion of the population actively sympathizes with him."
"Is there any way he can be discredited? What if he publicly showed fear or cowardice?" said Croft.
"Mo Quandry? That's highly unlikely, Mr. Croft," said Arco.
"Well, is there any way we can change cultural norms, then?"
"Certainly," said Arco. "Become a Graftonite, win some gold medals, hold a large number of Peaceful Debates, face down your opponents in combat, and persuade people to believe in your cause."
"I'm not sure we have the time for all that," said Croft.
"Then your government had better be prepared to pay," said Arco.
********
They went outside Arco's suburban office. It was a hot day on August, and Croft felt an unusual amount of perspiration.
Tane looked at him oddly.
"Something wrong?" said Croft.
"You look... different," said Tane.
"Different how?" said Croft.
"I don't know, but ever since we got up this morning to go to Arco, you've looked somehow different," said Tane.
"Do I look like myself?" said Croft reasonably.
"Yes, basically," said Tane.
