There were a handful of people in the office beyond. None of them looked up at Jason or asked his business. Everything has a purpose on Pyrrus. If he came there—he must have had a good reason. No one would ever think to ask him what he wanted. Jason, used to the petty officialdom of a thousand worlds, waited for a few moments before he understood. There was only one other door. He shuffled over and opened it.
Kerk looked up from a desk strewed about with papers and ledgers. "I was wondering when you would show up," he said.
"A lot sooner if you hadn’t prevented it," Jason told him as he dropped wearily into a chair. "It finally dawned on me that I could spend the rest of my life in your blood–thirsty nursery school if I didn’t do something about it. So here I am."
"Ready to return to the 'civilized' worlds, now that you’ve seen enough of Pyrrus?"
"I am not," Jason said. "And I’m getting very tired of everyone telling me to leave. I’m beginning to think that you and the rest of the Pyrrans are trying to hide something."
Kerk smiled at the thought. "What could we have to hide? I doubt if any planet has as simple and one–directional an existence as ours."
"If that’s true, then you certainly wouldn’t mind answering a few direct questions about Pyrrus?"
Kerk started to protest, then laughed. "Well done. I should know better by now than to argue with you. What do you want to know?"
Jason tried to find a comfortable position on the hard chair, then gave up. "What’s the population of your planet?" he asked.
For a second Kerk hesitated, then said, "Roughly thirty thousand. That is not very much for a planet that has been settled this long, but the reason for that is obvious."
"All right, population thirty thousand," Jason said. "Now how about surface control of your planet. I was surprised to find out that this city within its protective wall—the perimeter—is the only one on the planet. Let’s not consider the mining camps, since they are obviously just extensions of the city. Would you say then, that you people control more or less of the planet’s surface than you did in the past?"
* * * * *
Kerk picked up a length of steel pipe from the desk, that he used as a paperweight, and toyed with it as he thought. The thick steel bent like rubber at his touch, as he concentrated on his answer.
"That’s hard to say offhand. There must be records of that sort of thing, though I wouldn’t know where to find them. It depends on so many factors—"
"Let’s forget that for now then," Jason said. "I have another question that’s really more relevant. Wouldn’t you say that the population of Pyrrus is declining steadily, year after year?"
There was a sharp twang as the steel snapped in Kerk’s fingers, the pieces dropping to the floor. He stood, over Jason, his hands extended towards the smaller man, his face flushed and angry.
"Don’t ever say that," he roared. "Don’t let me ever hear you say that again!"
Jason sat as quietly as he could, talking slowly and picking out each word with care. His life hung in the balance.
"Don’t get angry, Kerk. I meant no harm. I’m on your side, remember? I can talk to you because you’ve seen much more of the universe than the Pyrrans who have never left the planet. You are used to discussing things. You know that words are just symbols. We can talk and know you don’t have to lose your temper over mere words—"
Kerk slowly lowered his arms and stepped away. Then he turned and poured himself a glass of water from a bottle on the desk. He kept his back turned to Jason while he drank.
Very little of the sweat that Jason wiped from his sopping face was caused by the heat in the room.
"I’m… sorry I lost my temper," Kerk said, dropping heavily into his chair. "Doesn’t usually happen. Been working hard lately, must have got my temper on edge." He made no mention of what Jason had said.
