Birthright

“And when the Republic says no?” asked a man.

“They won't say no,” said Coleman.

“But if they do?”

“Then every mining world in the Republic will go on strike. For the next decade and more, you will be carefully and thoroughly conditioned to do whatever is required of you. And how long do you think the Republic could stand a galaxy-wide strike? A day? A week? Surely not a year. Think about it, gentlemen. Cartography may be the great force behind our expansion, but you, and you alone, are the major power insofar as utilizing what we already possess. You've been a sleeping giant up until now, but the time has come to arise and flex those long-dormant muscles.” There was a low buzzing in the room.

“Gentlemen, it is not my intention to rush you,” said Coleman, “but I must ask for a vote tonight. Tomorrow morning I'm taking off to visit your less fortunate companions of Gamma Leporis X, and—” “What do you mean, less fortunate?” demanded a miner. “Your air may be cold,” said Coleman, smiling, “but at least it's breathable. As I was saying, I'll be very happy to answer any questions at this point; but I must have your decision one way or the other, by sunrise.”

To nobody's great surprise, least of all Coleman's, Gamma Leporis IX voted overwhelmingly to join the Federation of Miners.

* * * *

It didn't take twelve years. Things had gone even faster than Coleman had expected, and now, seven years after his visit to the Gamma Leporis system, he stood before the Secretary of the Republic as that graying politician bounced from one tirade to the next, barely pausing for breath. “Just what the hell are you trying to pull, Coleman?” he demanded for the dozenth time. “This is blackmail, plain and simple! The Republic will not be railroaded into any action by a bunch of militant malcontents.”

“I beg to differ, sir,” said Coleman. “Respectfully, of course. But if the Republic wasn't scared out of its wits, I think our problem would have been handled at a lower level.” “Your only problem is your so-called Federation!” snapped the Secretary. “And I'm not going tohandle it, I'm going to grind it into the dirt!” “I think not,” said Coleman. “May I sit down while we discuss it?” “No!” bellowed the Secretary. “You may not sit down, and we will not discuss it! Had you come in here like a reasonable man, I'd have been happy to talk with you. But no, you toss a list of ultimatums on my desk and demand that the Republic knuckle under to a bunch of hooligans.” “Had I acted like a reasonable man,” said Coleman, “and had I not come prepared with a list of