"They're not planning to release the serum, are they?" Walton gasped.
"Not immediately," Fred said. "In exchange for certain concessions on your part, they're prepared to return Lamarre's portfolio to you without making use of it."
"Concessions? Such as what?"
"That you refrain from declaring their private lands open territory for equalization. That you resign your post as interim director. That you go before the General Assembly and recommend me as your successor."
"You?"
"Who else is best fitted to serve the interests I represent?"
Walton leaned back, his face showing a mirth he scarcely felt. "Very neat, Fred. But full of holes. First thing, what assurance have I that your wealthy friends won't keep a copy of the Lamarre formula and use it as a bludgeon in the future against anyone they don't agree with?"
"None," Fred admitted.
"Naturally. What's more, suppose I refuse to give in and your employers release the serum to all and sundry. Who gets hurt? Not me; I live in a one-room box myself. But they'll be filling the world with billions and billions of people. Their beloved estates will be overrun by the hungry multitudes, whether they like it or not. And no fence will keep out a million hungry people."
"This is a risk they recognize," Fred said.