now." He waved a hand toward the chair. "Sit down, Edway.
Want a drink?"

Tarnhorst sat down and folded his hands. He looked down at them as if
he were really interested in the flat, unfaceted diamond, engraved
with the Tarnhorst arms, that gleamed on the ring on his finger.

"A little glass of whiskey wouldn't hurt much, Sam," he said, looking
up from his hands. He smiled. "As you say, there isn't much to worry
about now. If Morgan goes to the police, they'll give him the same
information."

Sam Fergus handed Tarnhorst a drink. "Damn right. Who's to know?" He
chuckled again and sat down. "That was pretty good. Yes sir, pretty
good. Just because he thought that when you voted for the Belt Cities
you were on their side, he believed what you said. Hell, _I've_ voted
on their side when it was the right thing to do. Haven't I now, Ed?
Haven't I?"

"Sure you have," said Tarnhorst with an easy smile. "So have a lot of
us."

"Sure we have," Fergus repeated. His grin was huge. Then it changed to
a frown. "I don't figure them sometimes. Those Belt people are crazy.
Why wouldn't they give us the process for making that cable of theirs?
Why?" He looked up at Tarnhorst with a genuinely puzzled look on his
face. "I mean, you'd think they thought that the laws of nature were
private property or something. They don't have the right outlook. A
man finds out something like that, he ought to give it to the human
race, hadn't he, Edway? How come those Belt people want to keep
something like that secret?"

Edway Tarnhorst massaged the bridge of his nose with a thumb and
forefinger, his eyes closed. "I don't know, Sam. I really don't know.
Selfish, is all I can say."

_Selfish?_ he thought. _Is it really selfish? Where is the dividing
line? How much is a man entitled to keep secret, for his own benefit,
and how much should he tell for the public?_

He glanced again at the coat of arms carved into the surface of the
diamond. A thousand years ago, his ancestors had carved themselves a
tiny empire out of middle Europe--a few hundred acres, no more. Enough
to keep one family in luxury while the serfs had a bare existence.
They had conquered by the sword and ruled by the sword. They had taken
all and given nothing.

But had they? The Barons of Tarnhorst had not really lived much better
than their serfs had lived. More clothes and more food, perhaps, and a
few baubles--diamonds and fine silks and warm furs. But no Baron
Tarnhorst had