Battlefield Earth Page #4

But nobody works for free.

Man-animals do.

What if we were to train them|how to mine?

Man-animals operating machinery?

Have you blown a head gasket?

I will be the laughingstock|of the universe.

So you should have me|take man-animals. . .

. . .with equipment,|out to a remote area. . .

. . .better that you don't know where,|and try and train them.

Have them do some test mining.

If it doesn't work out,|no one will know.

-Right.|-And if it does work. . .

. . .I will be vaporized.

It is against the law.

Regulations say. . .

. . .a Planetship faced with|a profit-threatening situation. . .

. . .is relieved|of all other ordinances. . .

. . .to pursue, to protect|and to acquire said profits.

There you have it.

We stick to the original plan.

Bring in new workers. . .

. . .and they go on half-pay|as soon as they arrive.

And that is final!

Run! Run!

Okay, now! Pull his breath mask off.

Last time we didn't even stop timing|until its lungs burst.

That's the wager.

No way this man-animal|lasts more than four minutes.

Help me!

I need your air!

The wager's off.|The damn thing cheated.

The Planetship is hiding something.

All we have to do|is find out what it is. . .

. . .then we'll have leverage.

And then we can get the gold.

What do you mean, we? It's my plan.

I'm sending the gold to Psychlo, then|I'm getting off this stinking planet.

Come on, sir.

You gotta let me in on it.

I barely make any lousy credits|in this job.

And I've got five wives|to support, sir.

I don't know if I want|to partner up with an idiot.

How do I even know|you understand the plan?

We train man-animals|who don't need breath gas. . .

. . .to mine the gold for us.

But Home Planet owns this planet.|The gold belongs to them.

That's the beauty of it.

Home Planet doesn't know|the gold exists.

Those corporate crapheads|won't know we stole it.

It's the perfect crime, sir.

Putting aside the serious violations|of teaching mining to inferiors. . .

. . .and insulting corporate superiors,|each one punishable by death.

So it is my duty to report you. . .

. . .though you'll be vaporized, and|I'll have to train a new assistant.

But it's your stinking plan, sir.

So I'm glad I have|a recording of you. . .

. . .Iaying out the plan|and my reprimanding you.

Think of it as part of your education.

Education, huh?

Never engage in a criminal activity|unless you have a patsy to pin it on. . .

. . .in case you ever get found out.

Thank you. That's great.

But why do I have to be the patsy?

So you don't get any bright ideas|to get rid of Terl. . .

. . .and keep the gold for yourself.

But I'd never double-cross you.

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