Birthright

for a chuckle with that, and was gratified to note one spreading through the assemblage. Gamma Leporis

IX was more than a light-year from the nearest sending station. “Tell me,” he said, blowing into his hands and rubbing them together, “when does summer come around here?” “You'rein summer!” shouted someone. “You ought to come by someday when it's nippy out!” That brought the laughter he had been waiting for. If there had been any hostility, at least it would be suspended for a little while.

“Well, gentlemen,” he said, “I'll get right down to business. My name is Jerim Coleman, and I represent the newly-formed Federation of Miners. At present, the Republic has 843 mining worlds, and our Federation has been accepted on well over half of them—and there are a lot we haven't made presentations to yet. I've asked to speak to you this evening because I'd like to tell you a little bit about ourselves, and try to offer you some concrete reasons why joining the Federation will prove to be in your best interests.”

He looked across the audience. So far, so good. Now for the silken hand disguised in a gauntlet of tempered steel.

“I know a number of stories have reached you concerning what membership in our organization entails, so I won't mince words. If you join, every one of you will be required to turn half his salary over to us for a period of five Earth years, and each of you will have to sign a contract guaranteeing that you will remain in the mining profession for a period of no less than fifteen years. You will also have to undergo extensive psychological conditioning.”

He waited for the reaction that he had seen so many times in so many similar meeting places. First silence, then a whispered muttering which quickly turned into a series of outraged curses, cries, and questions. He waited a full four minutes for the noise level to subside before continuing. “Gentlemen,” he said at last, “please give me your attention for a little while longer. I know most of the objections that you want to raise, and will try my best to answer them right now. After I'm through, I'll be open to questions from the floor. All I ask is that you hear me out. Besides,” he added, “if I get your blood boiling, it'll make the walk home a little easier.” There were a few grins at that, and one huge guffaw from somewhere to his left. “Your major objection is probably that no organization can possibly do enough for you to merit half your income. After all, no single vocational group is paid as well as you. Not that you don't deserve it: You're not pick-wielders, but highly trained specialists, responsible for survey work, controlling robotic miners, and refining the ores that you come up with, which makes you well-nigh irreplaceable. Your second objection concerns the fifteen-year contract. You are highly paid because, due to environmental conditions, your work is extremely hazardous, and therefore each of you—or most of you, anyway—hopes to make a killing and get back to civilization to spend some of those hard-earned credits. Am I correct in my assumptions?” There was a general nodding of heads.

“Good. Now, before I answer those and other objections, I'd like to spend a few minutes filling you in on the background of the Federation so that you may better realize exactly what it is that we have to offer. After all, we couldn't present such extreme conditions for membership unless we felt we could give you value received for time and money spent. And try to keep in the back of your minds the fact that