Universal Relief served the function that used to be handled by the Red Cross. They were disaster rectifiers, succor and reconstruction was their business. But they were a business—declaring annual, taxable profits and dividends and, in general, a profit-seeking firm.
They received regular payments from planetary governments, much like premiums with insurance, and in case of emergency they were to provide complete relief as swiftly as possible. There was no chance for graft in their business, for they were closely checked by the government and competing organizations like Galactic Aid, their closest rival.
This business was now apparently faced with a crisis and its staff was feverishly trying to cope with it.
Roald Gibbons, President of Universal Relief, was the only person not affected—at least not apparently. His indolent posture, his quiet grey eyes reflected nothing of the hectic activity.
This made Kim Roger nervous.
"I don't think you comprehend the seriousness of it, Mr. Gibbons," he was saying.
"I am not thinking of the seriousness of it. I just want the facts."
"Very well, sir. Two days ago, the Lyranian stock market crashed."
"You will have to go back further than that. I can't possibly know the history of all the planets in the Empire. That's what I pay you for. Give me some background."
This little speech made Kim lose his clutching hold on his patience. Roald Gibbons had just taken office after the death of his father, who had managed the galactic firm for twenty years. By merely being the boss's son, Roald had achieved the reputation of being an ignorant, careless playboy. His professed ignorance of the planets confirmed, in Kim's mind, this reputation.