ches in petroleum. Did you know he's established a
laboratory in Amerus? Has a hundred or more chemists working on new
products."

"Fine," Kennedy said.

"Fine! What do you mean? Dean is our man in petroleum."

"Look here, if Russ can develop the industry even faster than Mike Dean,
let him go ahead. That's all to our advantage."

Mayer leaned forward and tapped his assistant emphatically on the knee.
"Look here, yourself, Jerry Kennedy. At this stage we don't want things
getting out of our hands. A culture is in the hands of those who control
the wealth; the means of production, distribution, communication. Theirs
is the real power. I've made a point of spacing our men about the whole
planet. Each specializes, though not exclusively. Gunther is our mining
man, Dean heads petroleum, MacDonald shipping, Buchwald textiles, Rykov
steel, and so forth. As fast as this planet can assimilate we push new
inventions, new techniques, often whole new sciences, into use.
Meanwhile, you and I sit back and dominate it all through that strongest
of power mediums, finance."

Jerry Kennedy nodded. "I wouldn't worry about old man Russ taking over
Dean's domination of oil, though. Mike's got the support of all the
_Pedagogue's_ resources behind him. Besides, we've got to let these
Genoese get into the act. The more the economy expands, the more capable
men we need. As it is, I think we're already spread a little too thin."

Amschel Mayer had dropped the subject. He was reading the radiogram
again and scowling his anger. "Well, this cooks MacDonald and Buchwald.
I'll break them."

His assistant raised his eyebrows. "How do you mean?"

"I'm not going to put up with my subordinates going against my
interests."

"In this case, what can you do about it? Business is business."

"You hold quite a bit of their paper, don't you?"

"You know that. Most of our team's finances funnel through my hands."

"We'll close them out. They've become too obsessed with their wealth.
They've forgotten why the _Pedagogue_ was sent here. I'll break them,
Jerry. They'll come crawling. Perhaps I'll send them back to the
_Pedagogue_. Make them stay aboard as crew."

Kennedy shrugged. "Well, Peter MacDonald's going to hate that. He's
developed into quite a high liver--gourmet food, women, one of the
swankiest estates on the eastern continent."

"Ha!" Mayer snorted. "Let him go back to ship's rations and crew's
quarters."

A servant entered the lushl