“The depositors could bring pressure on the bank,” said Voraz, defending his branch manager. “But that does not change your loan-'

"Indeed they could bring pressure,” said the baron. “The basic profit income of the Galactic Bank came from handling fund transfers for Psychlo planets. Not from loans, but from the high percent charged by the bank for handling their funds. And with those regency planet transfers shut off, Your Excellency, your regency banks had to dismiss their staffs and close their doors. The senior branch bank in Balor, your own personal office, fired nearly everyone.

“So that, Sir Robert,” continued the baron, “is why you are being pressured. Dries figured the only route he had out of going bankrupt was to repossess Earth. It 's the only planet in any universe that Intergalactic Mining Company owed any money on. He thought if he could auction this planet off, if only for a little cash, he could prevent total insolvency.”

“Pointing to the mud on someone's fins,” said Dries, “does not improve your own swimming! You had better sign over or you yourself will drown!” This rehearsal of the last year's troubles was making him edgy. “Pay up and pay up now!” He picked up the form and rattled it in front of Sir Robert. It crackled like a machine gun.

MacAdam reached over and pushed Dries' arm gently back down to the table. “We'll come back to that later.”

The small gray man trembled. He could never remember being so upset before. It had been a very terrible year. What were these fellows up to? If they didn't have the money, why were they delaying? He sat back. Never mind. The end would be the same. Let them ramble.

“Now let's take up the main bank in the Gredides," said the baron. “We went there, right to Universe One. The capital city Snautch was damaged by the transshipment recoil and so were the capitals of the other two Selachee planets. The whole top floors of the bank buildings were very badly damaged.”

“They can be rebuilt,” said Lord Voraz.

“The blasts knocked down the huge Galactic Bank signs, the ones you can see from all over the cities in each capital, and they're still hanging there shattered. You can see what they said but that's about all.”

“They can be hung up again,” said Lord Voraz smoothly.

“But for a whole year,” the baron bored in like a mine drill, “you haven't done it! Now, all three Selachee planets depended upon banking. Those banks affected millions and millions of people. When you lost teleportation, you were thereafter unable to reach the other fifteen universes, space travel or no space travel. You have millions of Selachees stranded in branch banks all over those universes, banks as broke as His Excellency's, that you can't bring home. Families and relatives don't think they'll ever see their fathers or brothers or sons again. There are mobs rioting outside your bank doors. Rioting very loudly and howling for blood!”

Lord Voraz shrugged. “There are strong bank guards.”

“And how will you pay them?” said the baron. “Your bank income did not really come from loans but from Psychlo fund transfers. The instant Psychlo and Intergalactic Mining were blown up, there was no further fund flow. You started to go broke and you began to lay off employees. You know from Dries here that many of your branch banks have had to close their doors.”

“We have gone through economic difficulties before,” said Lord Voraz.

The baron leaned closer to him. “But not as bad as this one, Lord Voraz. The Psychlos were hated bitterly by peoples everywhere. When your Lord Loonger, whose face you carry on your bills, made a deal with the Psychlos a couple of hundred thousand years ago to handle all their finances, he refused to let any Psychlo sit on the bank's board of directors.”

“It would have hurt the bank's reputation,” said Lord Voraz. “A sensible move. People would have claimed it was a Psychlo bank.”

“Ah, yes,” said the baron. “But the Psychlos then insisted that forever thereafter the bank's reserves would be kept in vaults on Psychlo. They're gone!”

Lord Voraz dropped his heavy eyelids for a moment. He passed his hand across his face. Then he rallied. “It is true. This still does not alter the fact that you are a debtor.”

“It certainly does!” said the baron. “You're insolvent. And if you don't fine assets to back you fast, you will go under!”

“All right!” said Lord Voraz. “But this just proves the fact that we must repossess this planet!”

“This one planet won't save you,” said MacAdam.

“Why,” said the baron smoothly, “don't you just grab some old Psychlo mining planets or regency planets. There are over two hundred thousand of them lying about.”

“Oh, here now!” said Lord Voraz, horrified. “It is quite one thing to run down our credit and expose our troubles. But it is an entirely different thing to suggest the bank would ever engage upon piratical seizures of things to which it has no title!”

“Goodness,” said Dries, shocked. “Those planets were all properly paid for! You simply can't engage in theft!”

“Their titles would be in dispute!” said Lord Voraz. “It would open up the bank to wars and the bank is not a military organization! Anybody who touched those planets would wind up in court. No title to them! I must say, you know very little about intergalactic law governing nations!”

“Oh,” said MacAdam, “I think we do. Have you ever read the original Psychlo Imperial Royal Charter of the Intergalactic Mining Company?”

“Exhaustively!” said Lord Voraz. “You can't do business with a company that doesn't file its charter. It was granted three hundred two thousand, nine hundred sixty-one years ago by King Dith of Psychlo. Why, there's a copy of it– or was– on the wall of every Intergalactic Mining central compound. Required by law. I have read-'

The baron threw a copy of it on the table. “You should read the fine print.” He turned the copy around so Voraz could read it, though Voraz didn't bother to, knowing it almost by heart.

“Note this clause here,” said the baron, “Number 109: 'In the absence of a director or directors, the head of a planet owned by the said Intergalactic Mining Company shall have the power to make resolutions and his resolutions shall be binding.'

Lord Voraz shrugged. “Of course. They had only one additional planet then and the head of it was a royal prince. The directors at that time couldn't be bothered with business. I don't see-'

“But it is a valid clause,” said the baron.

“Right, right,” said Voraz. “But you are just delaying-”

“Now take this next clause,” said the baron. “Number 110: 'In time of emergency and/or threat to the company, and especially at a time of disaster, the head of a planet may dispose of company property.' Note that it is not further limited nor qualified.”

“Why should it be?” demanded Voraz. “It was the same royal prince. He wouldn't take the job away from home otherwise. He was afraid of communication cutoffs or palace revolutions. He could have been left out there holding a claw full of company bills. It was Prince Sco."

“But you agree,” said the baron, “that these are valid clauses.”

“When do I get to repossess this planet?” said Dries wearily. “Nothing in that charter will permit you to wriggle out of paying forty trillion credits!”

Lord Voraz corrected him, “Forty trillion, nine hundred sixty billion, two hundred seventeen million, six hundred five thousand, two hundred sixteen Galactic credits.”

“So there's nothing inaccurate in this royal charter,” persisted the baron.

“Of course not!” said Lord Voraz.

Baron von Roth and Andrew MacAdam looked at each other and laughed, startling the other two.

MacAdam reached down into the papers beside his chair and drew up a thick pack of documents. “This was fully signed and witnessed eleven months after the destruction of the planet Psychlo." He threw down the stack and it landed like a cannon shot.