THE
UNNECESSARY
MAN
BY RANDALL GARRETT
Sometimes an organizationalsetup grows, sets its ways, andbecomes so traditional that once-necessaryjobs become unnecessary.But it is sometimes quitehard to spot just which man isthe unnecessary one. In thiscase ... not the one you think!
Illustrated by Martinez
"I recall," said the Businessman,"that William Wrigley, Junior, oncesaid: 'When two men in a businessalways agree, one of them is unnecessary.'How true that is."
The Philosopher cast his eyes towardHeaven. "O God! The MercantileMind!" He looked back at theBusinessman. "When two men in abusiness always agree, one of themwill come in handy as a scapegoat."
ord Barrick Sorban,Colonel, H.I.M.O.G.,Ret., sipped gently athis drink and lookedmildly at the sheaf ofnewsfacsimile that he'd just boughtfresh from the reproducer in the lobbyof the Royal Hotel. Sorban did notlook like a man of action; he certainlydid not look like a retired colonel ofHis Imperial Majesty's Own Guard.The most likely reason for this wasthat he was neither.
Not that he was incapable of actionon a physical level if it became necessary;he was past forty, but his tough,hard body was in as fine a shape as ithad been fifteen years before, and hisreflexes had slowed only slightly. Theonly major change that had occurredin his body during that time had beenthe replacement of an irreparablydamaged left hand by a prosthetic.
But Lord Barrick Sorban preferredto use his mind, to initiate action inothers rather than himself, and hisface showed it. His was a precisionmind, capable of fast, accurate computations,and his eyes betrayed the fact,but the rest of his face looked, if anything,rather like that of a gentle,persuasive schoolteacher—the typewhom children love and parents admireand both obey.
Nor was he a retired colonel of theImperial bodyguard, except on paper.According to the official records, hehad been retired for medical reasons—themissing left hand. In reality, hisposition in the Imperium was a greatdeal higher than that of an ordinarycolonel, and he was still in the activeservice of the Emperor. It was a secretknown only to a comparative few,and one that was carefully guarded.
He was a fairly tall man, as an ImperialGuardsman had to be, with afinely-shaped head and dark hair thatwas shot through with a single streakof gray from an old burn wound. Inan officer's uniform, he looked impressive,but in civilian dress he lookedlike a competent businessman.
He held the newsfac in his prostheticleft hand, which was indistinguishablein appearance and in ordinaryusage from the flesh, bone, andblood that it had replaced. Indeed, theright hand, with its stiff little finger,often appeared to be more uselessthan the left. The hand, holding theglass of rye-and-ginger, gave an impressionof over-daintiness because ofthat stiff digit.
Lord Sorban paid little attentionto the other customers in the bar; customersof the Green Room of theRoyal Hotel weren't the noisy kind,anyway. He kept his attention on thenewsfac for the most part; only asmall amount of awareness was