aren't doing any business out this way at all."
"Good, good. That means my company will have first shoot at your planet," he said.
"That's first shot, Mr. Carson." William corrected him automatically.
"Thank you, William. Wonderful language. Let me tell you what we do. First of all we don't go around grabbing people at random. A great deal of research goes into the selection of a client/solver. For instance, even when you have all the required physical attributes and are well within the proper intelligence profile, without a powerful desire to change your life we would not take you."
"Okay, okay, you select carefully. It's like I told Miss Annie-Brown, I don't have any money or anything of value to exchange for this good time. I don't know how it is out in the rest of the galaxy, but I'd bet you fellows want your nickel, your pound of flesh, whatever you use for money."
William damn well knew the way the world was. One way or the other, dues had to be paid.
"You are partly mistaken, William. You do have something to exchange. Your time and your service. I see that our company name has been somewhat misleading. We are not a travel agency, although a being who takes our service usually gets to travel extensively. We are not vacation consultants. We are in fact a galactic employment agency with offices throughout this quadrant. We, however, provide something more than just bodies to our clients. We provide catalysts for change. We give our clients an employee who will bring new viewpoints to their problems.
"Our clients pay very well for this service. We also collect ten percent of your first year's salary. To you we guarantee that at some point during your employment you will know that you are “having a good time”. If not, we refund your salary, and a hundred thousand credit separation fee, when and if the contract is terminated."
William was momentarily speechless. "I'll be damned. I'll be doubled damned!" It was too weird. "I don't have any skill anyone out there, I mean out here wants."
Mr. Carson, if that was really his name, which William doubted, touched some panels, and a screen with strange symbols appeared.
"William, let me be the judge of that. You have more skills than you think. You are a competent technical writer. You have had good training as an engineer, with minor studies in journalism. You spent six years in the Navy as a S.E.A.L."
William felt a kind of isolation. Culture shock or something was beginning to set in. How did Carson know all that stuff? he wondered. William had more questions than he could think straight enough to ask.
Mr. Carson went on. "I've investigated that organization in your libraries. As warriors they are considered the finest. You were rated very resourceful by your superiors. Your military records indicate you are quick to learn new languages. Oh yes, William, you have many qualities that are highly valued out among the inhabited worlds.
"You have personal problems, that is true. Part of our exchange is to find a position, and a client, that will give you the opportunity to resolve these difficulties. Please note that I said, give you the opportunity. We don't take a hand in the actual resolution. No personal problem was ever resolved for one sentient directly by another. A being may be shown a path, but he must go the rest of the way himself.
"The solution to your problem lies within you. It is up to you to find it. What we do is locate a situation where the potential for change, challenge, A Good Time, exists"
William found himself listening closely to everything Carson said. It fit his concept of problems and solutions to a tee. That he had no answer to his troubles wasn't someone else's fault.
William had a thousand questions. "Mr. Carson, suppose I take this job you're offering, what are the conditions?"
He smiled. It was a nice smile. "Your first contract will be for five years. For all the benefits it brings, you must finish the assignment to the complete satisfaction of the client. If the client should chose, they can terminate the contract early, without prejudice. It will be as though you fulfilled the complete term, as far as pay and bonuses go. However to fulfill the contract, the client is also aware that some time may be necessary for him to get the full benefit of your unique viewpoints. I will tell you this, William, there is potential for danger on many of these contracts. Your client has full responsibility for any medical repairs the body may require as a result of work done for the client."
Wonderful, William thought.
"If your body is damaged beyond re-assembly, through no fault of your own, or through negligence on the client's part, a five hundred thousand credit indemnity will be paid to anyone you designate. I want you to know this seldom happens. Our clients do business with us for the very reason that they need something new, a uniqueness of viewpoint not available from beings of their own race or other races."
"Other races. Judas Priest! You are for real, aren't you?"
"Oh, to be sure, William. We are very much as you say, for real. I hope you don't have any problem with xenophobia. I have not noticed any such aberration in your personality profile."
"I know what that means. Well, Jesus, I don't know. I've never thought about it. If you've read our more creative literature on the subject, you probably know we've created all sorts of bug-eyed monsters, living out there." He had to laugh. "I mean out here."
"William, I have a news crash for you. Of the races which have produced literature as you know it, that is, fiction, every one of them has stories of “bug-eyes monsters”, living “out there”. I hope you won't be offended if I tell you that some of the races I have contacted would consider you the bug-eyed monster."
That made sense. "May I ask you something personal?"
Carson nodded agreeably.
"Am I seeing you as you really are, or are you some sort of projection?" Might as well satisfy that question while we're on the subject, William thought.
Mr. Carson's bushy eyebrows went up at least an inch. "You are perceptive, William. The answer to your question is no, this is not my true body shape. Your next question, prompted by an innate curiosity peculiar to your race is, what in fact do I look like?" He grinned mischievously. "Are you sure you won't be shocked or disgusted?"
"I don't know, Mr. Carson, I hope not," he told him.
Carson passed his hands over a control panel. There was a shimmering where he sat, and then he reappeared, not disgusting at all. He looked a lot like an over-weight badger with a few notable exceptions. His teeth looked human, and his deep brown eyes were circular and luminous. His forefeet weren't paws at all. He had well developed hands with long, flexible fingers, and a really long tail. It must have been three feet at least. He was scratching a large furry ear vigorously with his tail. The whole thing struck William as impossibly funny.
"Well, I see you are not frightened or disgusted. However, I did not think I was quite so laughable." He sounded grumpy.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Carson, this is quite a shock to me. I'm wondering what Miss Annie-Brown looks like." He suddenly felt sad at the prospect of her being another little badger or worse.
"Ahhh...then you would be quite surprised. She is in fact entirely humanoid although a bit taller than she appeared to you on Earth."
"I thought something was strange when I first saw her. Taller, wouldn't you know it," he muttered. "So, where to from here, Mr. Carson?"
Carson ignored the question. "Are you interested in employment, William?"
Time to fish or cut bait. "Yeah, I guess I am, Mr. Carson." I sure as hell ain't going anywhere back on old Earth. Can you give me an example of one of your employee-client deals; like how it worked out?" William asked.
"I understand, William. Indeed I can." His long tail lashed around randomly, then ended back at the tufted ear scratching vigorously.
"I recently had a request from a race of insectoids many parsecs east of here. They are a successful monarchy. For the past two thousand years they have been following a planned selective breeding