Joseph Carroll told him the check was cursory; except for the spasmodic attacks of the revolution underground, the Colonies were submissive enough, and the precautions taken were in the nature of routine.
It looked to be easy, Wolf thought wryly. The easiest of them all, since the planet was fairly distant from the scene of previous underground operations.
They wouldn't be expecting it, he thought. Down the main street in procession, the Administrator standing in the little ground car, smiling and waving to his subjects, genial, effusive. And then—
"Joseph," said Wolf suddenly. "How many men can I depend on?"
"Perhaps thirty," said the farmer. "Perhaps a few more."
"Are they completely dependable?"
"Within reason," said Carroll. "They are farmers, not soldiers. Plows are more familiar to them than guns."
"How many can you get me that will obey me without question, no matter what?"
Joseph Carroll tugged absently at his ear. Finally, he shrugged. "Perhaps five," he said. "Including myself."
"All right," sighed Wolf. "It will have to be that way, then. But the others can be depended on 'within reason?'"