"Don't know for certain." Neel shrugged. "I can set it up and get an approximation. But there is no definite point on the scale where war has to break out. Just a going and going until, somewhere along the line—"
"I know. Gone." Costa said reaching for his gun. He slid it into his side pocket. "Now it's time to stop looking and start doing. What do I do?"
"Going to kill War Marshal Lommeord?" Neel asked distastefully. "I thought we had settled that you can't stop a war by assassinating the top man."
"We also settled that something can be done to change the k-factor. The gun is for my own protection. While you're radioing results back to Earth and they're feeling bad about it, I'm going to be doing something. Now you tell me what that something is."
This was a different man from, the relaxed and quietly efficient Adao Costa of the past week. All of his muscles were hard with the restrained energy of an animal crouching to leap. The gun, ready in his pocket, had a suddenly new significance. Neel looked away, reaching around for words. This was all very alien to him and a little frightening. It was one thing to work out a k-problem in class, and discuss the theory of correction. It was something entirely different to direct the operation.
"Well?" Costa's voice knifed through his thoughts.
"You can. . well. . it's possible to change one of the peak population curves. Isolate individuals and groups, then effect status and location changes—"
"You mean get a lot of guys to take jobs in other towns through the commercial agents?"
Neel nodded.
"Too slow." Costa withered the idea with his voice. "Fine in the long run, but of absolutely no value in an emergency." He began to pace back and forth. Too quickly. It was more of a bubbling-over than a relaxation. "Can't you isolate some recent key events that can be reversed?"
"It's possible." Neel thought about it, quickly. "It wouldn't be a final answer, just a delaying action."
"That's good enough. Tell me what to do."
Neel flipped through his books of notes, checking off the Beta-13's. These were the reinforcers, the individuals and groups who were k-factor amplifiers. It was a long list which he cut down quickly by crossing off the low-increment additions and multiple groups. Even while the list was incomplete, Neel began to notice a pattern. It was an unlikely one — but it was there. He isolated the motivator and did a frequency check. Then sat back and whistled softly.
"We have a powerhouse here," he said, flipping the paper across the table. "Take this organization out of the equations and you might even knock us negative."
"Society for the Protection of the Native Born," Costa read. "Doesn't sound like it's very important. Who or what are they?"
"Proof positive of the law of averages. It's possible to be dealt a royal flush in a hand of cards, but it isn't very common. It's just as possible for a bunch of simpletons to set up an organization for one purpose, and have it turn out to be a supercharged, high-frequency k-factor amplifier. That's what's happened with this infernal SPNB. A seedy little social club, dedicated to jingoists with low IQs. With the war scare they have managed to get hold of a few credits. They have probably been telling the same inflated stories for years about the discrimination against natives of this fair planet, but no one has really cared. Now they have a chance to get their news releases and faked pix out in quantity. Just at a time when the public is ripe for their brand of nonsense. Putting this bunch out of business will be a good day's work."
"Won't there be repercussions?" Costa asked. "If they are this important and throw so much weight around — won't it look suspicions if they are suddenly shut up? Like an obvious move by the enemy?"
"Not at all. That might be true if, for instance, you blew up the headquarters of the War Party. It would certainly be taken as an aggressive move. But no one really knows or cares about this Society of the Half-baked Native Born. There might be reaction and interest if attention was drawn to them. But if some accident or act of nature were to put them out of business, that would be the end of it."
Costa was snapping his lighter on and off as he listened to Neel, staring at the flame. He closed it and held it up. "I believe in accidents. I believe that even in our fireproof age, fires still occur. Buildings still burn down. And if a burnt building just happened to be occupied by the SPNB — just one tenant of many — and their offices and records were destroyed, that would be of very little interest to anyone except the fire brigade."
"You're a born criminal," Neel told him. "I'm glad we're on the same side. That's your department and I leave it to you. I'll just listen for the news flashes. Meanwhile I have one little errand to take care of."
