Pasarian was even willing to put up with Buher's insistence that he chauffeur them in the oversized, overequipped golf cart. It was a scene out of any of a dozen old Hollywood movies Pasarian had seen projected against the canvas walls of tents when he was a boy; the big silver bird drops out of the sky, the white man comes to save the natives, explaining to them that the volcano is not erupting because they have been evil.

This particular big silver bird, however, was one of the smaller helicopters owned by Thorn Industries, and the white men it bore to earth were Richard Thorn and Bill Atherton. What they had come to explain to the natives was a carefully reasoned position prepared on behalf of the Common Market—another term Pasarian resented. Ten basically white nations ganging up against the basically nonwhite nations of Asia and Africa might be many things, might even be natural—it was certainly the way of the world. But 'common' didn't seem to be the best public relations word to apply to the enterprise.

Pasarian knew enough about the company and the various differences of opinion within it to recognize that this was Buher's big opportunity to convince Richard Thorn that his way of doing things was the best way. Pasarian had a private joke with himself that Buher had majored in Persistence and Persuasion in college. He'd never seen anyone like Buher before; always weaseling around, somehow always in the right place at the right time; knowing when to force an opinion and when not to; never giving up, always willing to wait for the right moment. And if it seemed the right moment might never come, doing whatever had to be done to make it occur. That was Buher. A real winner type. And a threat to everyone except Thorn, who was exempt only because he owned the damned company, and because as long as he was alive, the predominant philosophy behind Thorn Industries would be his.

The helicopter landed. Everyone shook hands and then the four men took off across the fields in the super golf cart. Pasarian was at the wheel, with Thorn next to him and the other two in back. Buher started making his pitch to Thorn immediately, making sure to denigrate Atherton's opinion right from the start.

'Bill is simply wrong in this area,' he said, leaning forward and shouting into Richard's ear over the noise of the cart's engine. 'My report points to the indisputable fact that Thorn Industries' main interest, at this point in time, is in energy and electronics. What I'm maintaining is that, because of the bias, we tend to ignore the kind of thing that's going on at this plant, for example. And we ignore it at our own risk. Our profitable future, energy aside,' he said, pausing to catch his breath, 'lies in just one thing... famine!'

Atherton snorted with disgust. That statement is typical of you, Paul,' he said, shaking his head. 'It's heartless and-‘