diff options
Diffstat (limited to '20898.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 20898.txt | 9363 |
1 files changed, 9363 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/20898.txt b/20898.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e21e682 --- /dev/null +++ b/20898.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9363 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Galaxy Primes, by Edward Elmer Smith + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Galaxy Primes + +Author: Edward Elmer Smith + +Release Date: March 25, 2007 [EBook #20898] + +Date last Updated: August 18, 2007 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GALAXY PRIMES *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, V. L. Simpson and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + [Transcriber's Note: + + Typographic errors have been corrected. + + This etext was produced from Amazing Stories March, April + and May 1959. Extensive research did not uncover any + evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was + renewed.] + + * * * * * + + + + + THE GALAXY PRIMES + + By E. E. SMITH + + + They were four of the greatest minds in the Universe: + Two men, two women, lost in an experimental spaceship + billions of parsecs from home. And as they mentally + charted the Cosmos to find their way back to earth, + their own loves and hates were as startling as the worlds + they encountered. Here is E. E. Smith's great new novel.... + + + [Illustration: + + The guardian struggled to immobilize the beast's + gigantic talons as the frightened girl leaped to the + safety of Garlock's arms.] + + + + +CHAPTER 1 + + +Her hair was a brilliant green. So was her spectacularly filled halter. +So were her tight short-shorts, her lipstick, and the lacquer on her +finger-and toe-nails. As she strolled into the Main of the starship, +followed hesitantly by the other girl, she drove a mental probe at the +black-haired, powerfully-built man seated at the instrument-banked +console. + +Blocked. + +Then at the other, slenderer man who was rising to his feet from the +pilot's bucket seat. His guard was partially down; he was telepathing a +pleasant, if somewhat reserved greeting to both newcomers. + +She turned to her companion and spoke aloud. "So _these_ are the +system's best." The emphasis was somewhere between condescension and +sneer. "Not much to choose between, I'd say ... 'port me a tenth-piece, +Clee? Heads, I take the tow-head." + +She flipped the coin dexterously. "Heads it is, Lola, so I get +Jim--James James James the Ninth himself. You have the honor of pairing +with Clee--or should I say His Learnedness Right the Honorable Director +Doctor Cleander Simmsworth Garlock, Doctor of Philosophy, Doctor of +Science, Prime Operator, President and First Fellow of the Galaxian +Society, First Fellow of the Gunther Society, Fellow of the Institute of +Paraphysics, of the Institute of Nuclear Physics, of the College of +Mathematics, of the Congress of Psionicists, and of all the other +top-bracket brain-gangs you ever heard of? Also, for your information, +his men have given him a couple of informal degrees--P.D.Q. and S.O.B." + + * * * + +The big psionicist's expression of saturnine, almost contemptuous +amusement had not changed; his voice came flat and cold. "The less you +say, Doctor Bellamy, the better. Obstinate, swell-headed women give me +an acute rectal pain. Pitching your curves over all the vizzies in space +got you aboard, but it won't get you a thing from here on. And for your +information, Doctor Bellamy, one more crack like that and I take you +over my knee and blister your fanny." + +"Try it, you big, clumsy, muscle-bound gorilla!" she jeered. "_That_ I +want to see! Any time you want to get both arms broken at the elbows, +just try it!" + +"Now's as good a time as any. I like your spirit, babe, but I can't say +a thing for your judgment." He got up and started purposefully toward +her, but both non-combatants came between. + +"Jet back, Clee!" James protested, both hands against the heavier man's +chest. "What the hell kind of show is _that_ to put on?" And, +simultaneously: + +"Belle! Shame on you! Picking a fight already, and with nobody knows how +many million people looking on! You know as well as I do that we may +have to spend the rest of our lives together, so act like civilized +beings--please--both of you! And don't...." + +"Nobody's watching this but us," Garlock interrupted. "When pussy there +started using her claws I cut the gun." + +"That's what _you_ think," James said sharply, "but Fatso and his number +one girl friend are coming in on the tight beam." + +"Oh?" Garlock whirled toward the hitherto dark and silent +three-dimensional communications instrument. The face of a bossy-looking +woman was already bright. + +"Garlock! How _dare_ you try to cut Chancellor Ferber off?" she +demanded. Her voice was deep-pitched, blatant with authority. "Here you +are, sir." + +The woman's face shifted to one side and a man's appeared--a face to +justify in full the nickname "Fatso." + +"'Fatso', eh?" Chancellor Ferber snarled. Pale eyes glared from the fat +face. "That costs you exactly one thousand credits, James." + +"How much will this cost me, Fatso?" Garlock asked. + +"Five thousand--and, since nobody can call me that deliberately, +demotion three grades and probation for three years. Make a note, Miss +Foster." + +"Noted, sir." + +"Still sure we aren't going anywhere," Garlock said. "_What_ a brain!" + +"Sure I'm sure!" Ferber gloated. "In a couple of hours I'm going to buy +your precious starship in as junk. In the meantime, whether you like it +or not, I'm going to watch your expression while you push all those +pretty buttons and nothing happens." + +"The trouble with you, Fatso," Garlock said dispassionately, as he +opened a drawer and took out a pair of cutting pliers, "is that all your +strength is in your glands and none in your alleged brain. There are a +lot of things--including a lot of tests--you know nothing about. How +much will you see after I've cut one wire?" + +"You wouldn't dare!" the fat man shouted. "I'd fire you--blacklist you +all over the sys...." + +Voice and images died away and Garlock turned to the two women in the +Main. He began to smile, but his mental shield did not weaken. + +"You've got a point there, Lola," he said, going on as though Ferber's +interruption had not occurred. "Not that I blame either Belle or myself. +If anything was ever calculated to drive a man nuts, this farce was. As +the only female Prime in the system, Belle should have been in +automatically--she had no competition. And to anybody with three brain +cells working the other place lay between you, Lola, and the other three +female Ops in the age group. + +"But no. Ferber and the rest of the Board--stupidity _uber +alles_!--think all us Ops and Primes are psycho and that the ship will +never even lift. So they made a Grand Circus of it. But they succeeded +in one thing--with such abysmal stupidity so rampant I'm getting more +and more reconciled to the idea of our not getting back--at least, for a +long, long time." + +"Why, they said we had a very good chance...." Lola began. + +"Yeah, and they said a lot of even bigger damn lies than that one. Have +you read any of my papers?" + +"I'm sorry. I'm not a mathematician." + +"Our motion will be purely at random. If it isn't, I'll eat this whole +ship. We won't get back until Jim and I work out something to steer us +with. But they must be wondering no end, outside, what the score is, so +I'm willing to call it a draw--temporarily--and let 'em in again. How +about it, Belle?" + +"A draw it is--temporarily." Neither, however, even offered to shake +hands. + +"Smile pretty, everybody," Garlock said, and pressed a stud. + +"... the matter? What's the matter? Oh...." the worried voice of the +System's ace newscaster came in. "Power failure _already_?" + +"No," Garlock replied. "I figured we had a couple of minutes of privacy +coming, if you can understand the meaning of the word. Now all four of +us tell everybody who is watching or listening _au revoir_ or good-bye, +whichever it may turn out to be." He reached for the switch. + +"Wait a minute!" the newscaster demanded. "Leave it on until the last +poss...." His voice broke off sharply. + +"Turn it back on!" Belle ordered. + +"Nix." + +"Scared?" she sneered. + +"You chirped it, bird-brain. I'm scared purple. So would you be, if you +had three brain cells working in that glory-hound's head of yours. Get +set, everybody, and we'll take off." + +"Stop it, both of you!" Lola exclaimed. "Where do you want us to sit, +and do we strap down?" + +"You sit here; Belle at that plate beside Jim. Yes, strap down. There +probably won't be any shock, and we should land right side up, but +there's no sense in taking chances. Sure your stuff's all aboard?" + +"Yes, it's in our rooms." + +The four secured themselves; the two men checked, for the dozenth time, +their instruments. The pilot donned his scanner. The ship lifted +effortlessly, noiselessly. Through the atmosphere; through and far +beyond the stratosphere. It stopped. + +"Ready, Clee?" James licked his lips. + +"As ready as I ever will be, I guess. Shoot!" + +The pilot's right hand, forefinger outstretched, moved +unenthusiastically toward a red button on his panel ... slowed ... +stopped. He stared into his scanner at the Earth so far below. + +"Hit it, Jim!" Garlock snapped. "_Hit_ it, for goodness sake, before we +_all_ lose our nerve!" + +James stabbed convulsively at the button, and in the very instant of +contact--instantaneously; without a fractional microsecond of +time-lapse--their familiar surroundings disappeared. Or, rather, and +without any sensation of motion, of displacement, or of the passage of +any time whatsoever, the planet beneath them was no longer their +familiar Earth. The plates showed no familiar stars nor patterns of +heavenly bodies. The brightly-shining sun was very evidently not their +familiar Sol. + +"Well--we went _somewhere_ ... but not to Alpha Centauri, not much to +our surprise." James gulped twice; then went on, speaking almost +jauntily now that the attempt had been made and had failed. "So now it's +up to you, Clee, as Director of Project Gunther and captain of the good +ship _Pleiades_, to boss the more-or-less simple--more, I hope--job of +getting us back to Tellus." + + * * * + +Science, both physical and paraphysical, had done its best. Gunther's +Theorems, which define the electromagnetic and electrogravitic +parameters pertaining to the annihilation of distance, had been studied, +tested, and applied to the full. So had the Psionic Corollaries; which, +while not having the status of paraphysical laws, do allow computation +of the qualities and magnitudes of the stresses required for any given +application of the Gunther Effect. + +The planning of the starship _Pleiades_ had been difficult in the +extreme; its construction almost impossible. While it was practically a +foregone conclusion that any man of the requisite caliber would already +be a member of the Galaxian Society, the three planets and eight +satellites were screened, psionicist by psionicist, to select the two +strongest and most versatile of their breed. + +These two, Garlock and James, were heads of departments of, and under +iron-clad contract to, vast Solar System Enterprises, Inc., the only +concern able and willing to attempt the building of the first starship. + +Alonzo P. Ferber, Chancellor of SSE, however, would not risk a +tenth-piece of the company's money on such a bird-brained scheme. +Himself a Gunther First, he believed implicitly that Firsts were in fact +tops in Gunther ability; that these few self-styled "Operators" and +"Prime Operators" were either charlatans or self-deluded crackpots. +Since he could not feel that so-called "Operator Field," no such thing +did or could exist. No Gunther starship could ever, possibly, work. + +He did loan Garlock and James to the Galaxians, but that was as far as +he would go. For salaries and for labor, for research and material, for +trials and for errors; the Society paid and paid and paid. + +Thus the starship _Pleiades_ had cost the Galaxian Society almost a +thousand million credits. + +Garlock and James had worked on the ship since its inception. They were +to be of the crew; for over a year it had been taken for granted that +would be its only crew. + + * * * + +As the _Pleiades_ neared completion, however, it became clearer and +clearer that the displacement-control presented an unsolved, and quite +possibly an insoluble, problem. It was mathematically certain that, when +the Gunther field went on, the ship would be displaced instantaneously +to some location in space having precisely the Gunther coordinates +required by that particular field. One impeccably rigorous analysis +showed that the ship would shift into the nearest solar system +possessing an Earth-type planet; which was believed to be Alpha Centauri +and which was close enough to Sol so that orientation would be automatic +and the return to Earth a simple matter. + +Since the Gunther Effect did in fact annihilate distance, however, +another group of mathematicians, led by Garlock and James, proved with +equal rigor that the point of destination was no more likely to be any +one given Gunther point than any other one of the myriads of billions of +equiguntherial points undoubtedly existent throughout the length, +breadth, and thickness of our entire normal space-time continuum. + +The two men would go anyway, of course. Carefully-calculated pressures +would make them go. It was neither necessary nor desirable, however, for +them to go alone. + +Wherefore the planets and satellites were combed again; this time to +select two women--the two most highly-gifted psionicists in the +eighteen-to-twenty-five age group. Thus, if the _Pleiades_ returned +successfully to Earth, well and good. If she did not, the four selectees +would found, upon some far-off world, a race much abler than the +humanity of Earth; since eighty-three percent of Earth's dwellers had +psionic grades lower than Four. + +This search, with its attendant fanfare and studiedly blatant publicity, +was so planned and engineered that two selected women did not arrive at +the spaceport until a bare fifteen minutes before the scheduled time of +take-off. Thus it made no difference whether the women liked the men or +not, or vice versa; or whether or not any of them really wanted to make +the trip. Pressures were such that each of them had to go, whether he or +she wanted to or not. + + * * * + +"Cut the rope, Jim, and let the old bucket drop," Garlock said. "Not too +close. Before we make any kind of contact we'll have to do some +organizing. These instruments," he waved at his console, "show that ours +is the only Operator Field in this whole region of space. Hence, there +are no Operators and no Primes. That means that from now until we get +back to Tellus...." + +"_If_ we get back to Tellus," Belle corrected, sweetly. + +"_Until_ we get back to Tellus there will be no Gunthering aboard this +ship...." + +"_What?_" Belle broke in again. "Have you lost your mind?" + +"There will be little if any lepping, and nothing else at all. At the +table, if we want sugar, we will reach for it or have it passed. We will +pick up things, such as cigarettes, with our fingers. We will carry +lighters and use them. When we go from place to place, we will walk. Is +that clear?" + +"You seem to be talking English," Belle sneered, "but the words don't +make sense." + +"I didn't think you were that stupid." Eyes locked and held. Then +Garlock grinned savagely. "Okay. You tell her, Lola, in words of as few +syllables as possible." + +"Why, to get used to it, of course," Lola explained, while Belle glared +at Garlock in frustrated anger. "So as not to reveal anything we don't +have to." + +"Thank you, Miss Montandon, you may go to the head of the class. All +monosyllables except two. That should make it clear, even to Miss +Bellamy." + +"You ... you _beast_!" Belle drove a tight-beamed thought. "I was never +so insulted in my life!" + +"You asked for it. Keep on asking for it and you'll keep on getting it." +Then, aloud, to all three, "In emergencies, of course, anything goes. We +will now proceed with business." He paused, then went on, bitingly, "If +possible." + +"One minute, please!" Belle snapped. "Just why, Captain Garlock, are you +insisting on oral communication, when lepping is so much faster and +better? It's stupid--reactionary. Don't you ever lep?" + +"With Jim, on business, yes; with women, no more than I have to. What I +think is nobody's business but mine." + +"What a way to run a ship! Or a project!" + +"Running this project is my business, not yours; and if there's any one +thing in the entire universe it does _not_ need, it's a female +exhibitionist. Besides your obvious qualifications to be one of the Eves +in case of Ultimate Contingency...." he broke off and stared at her, his +contemptuous gaze traveling slowly, dissectingly, from her toes to the +topmost wave of her hair-do. + +"Forty-two, twenty, forty?" he sneered. + +"You flatter me." Her glare was an almost tangible force; her voice was +controlled fury. + +"Thirty-nine, twenty-two, thirty-five. Five seven. One thirty-five. If +any of it's any of your business, which it isn't. You should be +discussing brains and ability, not vital statistics." + +"Brains? You? No, I'll take that back. As a Prime, you _have_ got a +brain--one that really works. What do _you_ think you're good for on +this project? What can you do?" + +"I can do anything any man ever born can do, and do it better!" + +"Okay. Compute a Gunther field that will put us two hundred thousand +feet directly above the peak of that mountain." + +"That isn't fair--not that I expected fairness from you--and you know +it. That doesn't take either brains or ability...." + +"Oh, no?" + +"No. Merely highly specialized training that you know I haven't had. +Give me a five-tape course on it and I'll come closer than either you or +James; for a hundred credits a shot." + +"I'll do just that. Something you _are_ supposed to know, then. How +would you go about making first contact?" + + * * * + +"Well, I wouldn't do it the way _you_ would--by knocking down the first +native I saw, putting my foot on his face, and yelling 'Bow down, you +stupid, ignorant beasts, and worship me, the Supreme God of the +Macrocosmic Universe'!" + +"Try again, Belle, that one missed me by...." + +"Hold it, both of you!" James broke in. "What the hell are you trying to +prove? How about cutting out this cat-and-dog act and getting some work +done?" + +"You've got a point there," Garlock admitted, holding his temper by a +visible effort. "Sorry, Jim. Belle, what were you briefed for?" + +"To understudy you." She, too, fought her temper down. "To learn +everything about Project Gunther. I have a whole box of tapes in my +room, including advanced Gunther math and first-contact techniques. I'm +to study them during all my on-watch time unless you assign other +duties." + +"No matter what your duties may be, you'll have to have time to study. +If you don't find what you want in your own tapes--and you probably +won't, since Ferber and his Miss Foster ran the selections--use our +library. It's good--designed to carry on our civilization. Miss +Montandon? No, that's silly, the way we're fixed. Lola?" + +"I'm to learn how to be Doctor James'...." + +"Jim, please, Lola," James said. "And call him Clee." + +"I'd like that." She smiled winningly. "And my friends call me +'Brownie'." + +"I see why they would. It fits like a coat of lacquer." + + * * * + +It did. Her hair was a dark, lustrous brown, as were her eyebrows. Her +eyes were brown. Her skin, too--her dark red playsuit left little to the +imagination--was a rich and even brown. Originally fairly dark, it had +been tanned to a more-than-fashionable depth of color by naked +sun-bathing and by practically-naked outdoor sports. A couple of inches +shorter than the green-haired girl, she too had a figure to make any +sculptor drool. + +"I'm to be Dr. Jim's assistant. I have a thousand tapes, more or less, +to study, too. It'll be quite a while, I'm afraid, before I can be of +much use, but I'll do the best I can." + +"If we had hit Alpha Centauri that arrangement would have been good, but +as we are, it isn't." Garlock frowned in thought, his heavy black +eyebrows almost meeting above his finely-chiseled aquiline nose. "Since +neither Jim nor I need an assistant any more than we need tails, it was +designed to give you girls something to do. But out here, lost, there's +work for a dozen trained specialists and there are only four of us. So +we shouldn't duplicate effort. Right? You first, Belle." + +"Are you asking me or telling me?" she asked. "And that's a fair +question. Don't read anything into it that isn't there. With your +attitude, I want information." + +"I am asking you," he replied, carefully. "For your information, when I +know what should be done, I give orders. When I don't know, as now, I +ask advice. If I like it, I follow it. Fair enough?" + +"Fair enough. We're apt to need any number of specialists." + +"Lola?" + +"Of course we shouldn't duplicate. What shall I study?" + +"That's what we must figure out. We can't do it exactly, of course; all +we can do now is to set up a rough scheme. Jim's job is the only one +that's definite. He'll have to work full time on nebular configurations. +If we hit inhabited planets he'll have to add their star-charts to his +own. That leaves three of us to do all the other work of a survey. +Ideally, we would cover all the factors that would be of use in getting +us back to Tellus, but since we don't know what those factors are.... +Found out anything yet, Jim?" + +"A little. Tellus-type planet, apparently strictly so. Oceans and +continents. Lots of inhabitants--farms, villages, all sizes of cities. +Not close enough to say definitely, but inhabitants seem to be humanoid, +if not human." + +"Hold her here. Besides astronomy, which is all yours, what do we need +most?" + +"We should have enough to classify planets and inhabitants, so as to +chart a space-trend if there is any. I'd say the most important ones +would be geology, stratigraphy, paleontology, oceanography, xenology, +anthropology, ethnology, vertebrate biology, botany, and at least some +ecology." + +"That's about the list I was afraid of. But there are only three of us. +The fields you mention number much more." + +"Each of you will have to be a lot of specialists in one, then. I'd say +the best split would be planetology, xenology, and anthropology--each, +of course, stretched all out of shape to cover dozens of related and +non-related specialties." + +"Good enough. Xenology, of course, is mine. Contacts, liaison, politics, +correlation, and so on, as well as studying the non-human life +forms--including as many lower animals and plants as possible. I'll make +a stab at it. Now, Belle, since you're a Prime and Lola's an Operator, +you get the next toughest job. Planetography." + +"Why not?" Belle smiled and began to act as one of the party. "All I +know about it is a hazy idea of what the word means, but I'll start +studying as soon as we get squared away." + +"Thanks. That leaves anthropology to you, Lola. Besides, that's your +line, isn't it?" + +"Yes. Sociological Anthropology. I have my M.S. in it, and am--was, I +mean--working for my Ph.D. But as Jim said, it isn't only the one +specialty. You want me, I take it, to cover humanoid races, too?" + +"Check. You and Jim both, then, will know what you're doing, while Belle +and I are trying to play ours by ear." + +"Where do we draw the line between humanoid and non-human?" + +"In case of doubt we'll confer. That covers it as much as we can, I +think. Take us down, Jim--and be on your toes to take evasive action +fast." + + * * * + +The ship dropped rapidly toward an airport just outside a fairly large +city. Fifty thousand--forty thousand--thirty thousand feet. + +"Calling strange spaceship--you must be a spaceship, in spite of your +tremendous, hitherto-considered-impossible mass--" a thought impinged on +all four Tellurian minds, "do you read me?" + +"I read you clearly. This is the Tellurian spaceship _Pleiades_, Captain +Garlock commanding, asking permission to land and information as to +landing conventions." He did not have to tell James to stop the ship; +James had already done so. + +"I was about to ask you to hold position; I thank you for having done +so. Hold for inspection and type-test, please. We will not blast unless +you fire first. A few minutes, please." + + * * * + +A group of twelve jet fighters took off practically vertically upward +and climbed with fantastic speed. They leveled off a thousand feet below +the _Pleiades_ and made a flying circle. Up and into the ring thus +formed there lumbered a large, clumsy-looking helicopter. + +"We have no record of any planet named 'Tellus'; nor of any such ship as +yours. Of such incredible mass and with no visible or detectable means +of support or of propulsion. Not from this part of the galaxy, certainly +... could it be that intergalactic travel is actually possible? But +excuse me, Captain Garlock, none of that is any of my business; which is +to determine whether or not you four Tellurian human beings are +compatible with, and thus acceptable to, our humanity of Hodell ... but +you do not seem to have a standard televideo testing-box aboard." + +"No, sir; only our own tri-di and teevee." + +"You must be examined by means of a standard box. I will rise to your +level and teleport one across to you. It is self-powered and fully +automatic." + +"You needn't rise, sir. Just toss the box out of your 'copter into the +air. We'll take it from there." Then, to James, "Take it, Jim." + +"Oh? You can lift large masses against much gravity?" The alien was all +attention. "I have not known that such power existed. I will observe +with keen interest." + +"I have it," James said. "Here it is." + +"Thank you, sir," Garlock said to the alien. Then, to Lola: "You've been +reading these--these Hodellians?" + +"The officer in the helicopter and those in the fighters, yes. Most of +them are Gunther Firsts." + +"Good girl. The set's coming to life--watch it." + +The likeness of the alien being became clear upon the alien screen; +visible from the waist up. While humanoid, the creature was very far +indeed from being human. He--at least, it had masculine rudimentary +nipples--had double shoulders and four arms. His skin was a vividly +intense cobalt blue. His ears were black, long, and highly dirigible. +His eyes, a flaming red in color, were large and vertically-slitted, +like a cat's. He had no hair at all. His nose was large and Roman; his +jaw was square, almost jutting; his bright-yellow teeth were clean and +sharp. + +After a minute of study the alien said: "Although your vessel is so +entirely alien that nothing even remotely like it is on record, you four +are completely human and, if of compatible type, acceptable. Are there +any other living beings aboard with you?" + +"Excepting micro-organisms, none." + +"Such life is of no importance. Approach, please, one of you, and grasp +with a hand the projecting metal knob." + +With a little trepidation, Garlock did so. He felt no unusual sensation +at the contact. + +"All four of you are compatible and we accept you. This finding is +surprising in the extreme, as you are the first human beings of record +who grade higher than what you call Gunther Two ... or Gunther Second?" + +"Either one; the terms are interchangeable." + +"You have minds of tremendous development and power; definitely superior +even to my own. However, there is no doubt that physically you are +perfectly compatible with our humanity. Your blood will be of great +benefit to it. You may land. Goodbye." + +"Wait, please. How about landing conventions? And visiting restrictions +and so on? And may we keep this box? We will be glad to trade you +something for it, if we have anything you would like to have?" + +"Ah, I should have realized that your customs would be widely different +from ours. Since you have been examined and accepted, there are no +restrictions. You will not act against humanity's good. Land where you +please, go where you please, do what you please as long as you please. +Take up permanent residence or leave as soon as you please. Marry if you +like, or simply breed--your unions with this planet's humanity will be +fertile. Keep the box without payment. As Guardians of Humanity we +Arpalones do whatever small favors we can. Have I made myself clear?" + +"Abundantly so. Thank you, sir." + +"Now I really must go. Goodbye." + +Garlock glanced into his plate. The jets had disappeared, the helicopter +was falling rapidly away. He wiped his brow. + +"Well, I'll be damned," he said. + + * * * + +When his amazement subsided he turned to the business at hand. "Lola, do +you check me that this planet is named Hodell, that it is populated by +creatures exactly like us? Arpalones?" + +"Exactly, except they aren't 'creatures'. They are humanoids, and very +fine people." + +"You'd think so, of course ... correction accepted. Well, let's take +advantage of their extraordinarily hospitable invitation and go down. +Cut the rope, Jim." + + * * * + +The airport was very large, and was divided into several sections, each +of which was equipped with runways and/or other landing facilities to +suit one class of craft--propellor jobs, jets, or helicopters. There +were even a few structures that looked like rocket pits. + +"Where are you going to sit down, Jim? With the 'copters or over by the +blast-pits?" + +"With the 'copters, I think. Since I can place her to within a couple of +inches. I'll put her squarely into that far corner, where she'll be out +of everybody's way." + +"No concrete out there," Garlock said. "But the ground seems good and +solid." + +"We'd better not land on concrete," James grinned. "Unless it's terrific +stuff we'd smash it. On bare ground, the worst we can do is sink in a +foot or so, and that won't hurt anything." + +"Check. A few tons to the square foot, is all. Shall we strap down and +hang onto our teeth?" + +"Who do you think you're kidding, boss? Even though I've got to do this +on manual, I won't tip over a half-piece standing on edge." + +James stopped talking, pulled out his scanner, stuck his face into it. +The immense starship settled downward toward the selected corner. There +was no noise, no blast, no flame, no slightest visible or detectable +sign of whatever force it was that was braking the thousands of tons of +the vessel's mass in its miles-long, almost-vertical plunge to ground. + +When the _Pleiades_ struck ground the impact was scarcely to be felt. +When she came to rest, after settling into the ground her allotted "foot +or so," there was no jar at all. + +"Atmosphere, temperature, and so on, approximately Earth-normal," +Garlock said. "Just as our friend said it would be." + +James scanned the city and the field. "Our visit is kicking up a lot of +excitement. Shall we go out?" + +"Not yet!" Belle exclaimed. "I want to see how the women are dressed, +first." + +"So do I," Lola added, "and some other things besides." + +Both women--Lola through her Operator's scanner; Belle by manipulating +the ship's tremendous Operator Field by the sheer power of her Prime +Operator's mind--stared eagerly at the crowd of people now beginning to +stream across the field. + +"As an anthropologist," Lola announced, "I'm not only surprised. I am +shocked, annoyed, and disgruntled. Why, they're _exactly_ like white +Tellurian human beings!" + +"But _look_ at their _clothes_!" Belle insisted. "They're wearing +anything and everything, from bikinis to coveralls!" + +"Yes, but notice." This was the anthropological scientist speaking now. +"Breasts and loins, covered. Faces, uncovered. Heads and feet and hands, +either bare or covered. Ditto for legs up to there, backs, arms, necks +and shoulders down to here, and torsos clear down to there. We'll not +violate any conventions by going out as we are. Not even you, Belle. You +first, Chief. Yours the high honor of setting first foot--the biggest +foot we've got, too--on alien soil." + +"To hell with that. We'll go out together." + +"Wait a minute," Lola went on. "There's a funny-looking automobile just +coming through the gate. The Press. Three men and two women. Two +cameras, one walkie-talkie, and two microphones. The photog in the +purple shirt is really a sharpie at lepping. Class Three, at +least--possibly a Two." + +"How about screens down enough to lep, boss?" Belle suggested. "Faster. +We may need it." + +"Check. I'm too busy to record, anyway--I'll log this stuff up tonight," +and thoughts flew. + +"Check me, Jim," Garlock flashed. "Telepathy, very good. On Gunther, the +guy was right--no signs at all of any First activity, and very few +Seconds." + +"Check," James agreed. + +"And Lola, those 'Guardians' out there. I thought they were the same as +the Arpalone we talked to. They aren't. Not even telepathic. Same color +scheme, is all." + +"Right. Much more brutish. Much flatter cranium. Long, tearing canine +teeth. Carnivorous. I'll call them just 'guardians' until we find out +what they really are." + + * * * + +The press car arrived and the Tellurians disembarked--and, accidentally +or not, it was Belle's green slipper that first touched ground. There +was a terrific babel of thought, worse, even, than voices in similar +case, in being so much faster. The reporters, all of them, wanted to +know everything at once. How, what, where, when, and why. Also who. And +all about Tellus and the Tellurian solar system. How did the visitors +like Hodell? And all about Belle's green hair. And the photographers +were prodigal of film, shooting everything from all possible angles. + +"Hold it!" Garlock loosed a blast of thought that "silenced" almost the +whole field. "We will have order, please. Lola Montandon, our +anthropologist, will take charge. Keep it orderly, Lola, if you have to +throw half of them off the field. I'm going over to Administration and +check in. One of you reporters can come with me, if you like." + +The man in the purple shirt got his bid in first. As the two men walked +away together, Garlock noted that the man was in fact a Second--his flow +of lucid, cogent thought did not interfere at all with the steady stream +of speech going into his portable recorder. Garlock also noticed that in +any group of more than a dozen people there was always at least one +guardian. They paid no attention whatever to the people, who in turn +ignored them completely. Garlock wondered briefly. Guardians? The +Arpalones, out in space, yes. But these creatures, naked and unarmed on +the ground? The Arpalones were non-human people. These things +were--what? + +At the door of the Field Office the reporter, after turning +Garlock over to a startlingly beautiful, leggy, breasty, blonde +receptionist-usherette, hurried away. + + * * * + +He flecked a feeler at her mind and stiffened. How could a Two--a high +Two, at that--be working as an usher? And with her guard down clear to +the floor? He probed--and saw. + +"Lola!" He flashed a tight-beamed thought. "You aren't putting out +anything about our sexual customs, family life, and so on." + +"Of course not. We must know their mores first." + +"Good girl. Keep your shield up." + +"Oh, we're so glad to see you, Captain Garlock, sir!" The blonde, who +was dressed little more heavily than the cigarette girls in Venusberg's +Cartier Room, seized his left hand in both of hers and held it +considerably longer than was necessary. Her dazzling smile, her laughing +eyes, her flashing white teeth, the many exposed inches of her skin, and +her completely unshielded mind; all waved banners of welcome. + +"Captain Garlock, sir, Governor Atterlin has been most anxious to see +you ever since you were first detected. This way, please, sir." She +turned, brushing her bare hip against his leg in the process, and led +him by the hand along a hallway. Her thoughts flowed. "I have been, too, +sir, and I'm simply delighted to see you close up, and I hope to see a +lot more of you. You're a wonderfully pleasant surprise, sir; I've never +seen a man like you before. I don't think Hodell ever saw a man like you +before, sir. With such a really terrific mind and yet so big and strong +and well-built and handsome and clean-looking and blackish. You're +wonderful, Captain Garlock, sir. You'll be here a long time, I hope? +Here we are, sir." + +She opened a door, walked across the room, sat down in an overstuffed +chair, and crossed her legs meticulously. Then, still smiling happily, +she followed with eager eyes and mind Garlock's every move. + +Garlock had been reading Governor Atterlin; knew why it was the governor +who was in that office instead of the port manager. He knew that +Atterlin had been reading him--as much as he had allowed. They had +already discussed many things, and were still discussing. + +The room was much more like a library than an office. The governor, a +middle-aged, red-headed man a trifle inclined to portliness, had been +seated in a huge reclining chair facing a teevee screen, but got up to +shake hands. + +"Welcome, friend Captain Garlock. Now, to continue. As to exchange. Many +ships visiting us have nothing we need or can use. For such, all +services are free--or rather, are paid by the city. Our currency is +based upon platinum, but gold, silver, and copper are valuable. Certain +jewels, also...." + +"That's far enough. We will pay our way--we have plenty of metal. What +are your ratios of value for the four metals here on Hodell?" + +"Today's quotations are...." He glanced at a screen, and his fingers +flashed over the keys of a computer beside his chair. "One weight of +platinum is equal in value to seven point three four six...." + +"Decimals are not necessary, sir." + +"Seven plus, then, weights of gold. One of gold to eleven of silver. One +of silver to four of copper." + +"Thank you. We'll use platinum. I'll bring some bullion tomorrow morning +and exchange it for your currency. Shall I bring it here, or to a bank +in the city?" + +"Either. Or we can have an armored truck visit your ship." + +"That would be better yet. Have them bring about five thousand tanes. +Thank you very much, Governor Atterlin, and good afternoon to you, sir." + +"And good afternoon to you, sir. Until tomorrow, then." + +Garlock turned to leave. + +"Oh, may I go with you to your ship, sir, to take just a little look at +it?" the girl asked, winningly. + +"Of course, Grand Lady Neldine, I'd like to have your company." + +She seized his elbow and hugged it quickly against her breast. Then, +taking his hand, she walked--almost skipped--along beside him. "And I +want to see Pilot James close up, too, sir--he's not nearly as wonderful +as you are, sir--and I wonder why Planetographer Bellamy's hair is +green? Very striking, of course, sir, but I don't think I'd care for it +much on me--unless you'd think I should, sir?" + + * * * + +Belle knew, of course, that they were coming; and Garlock knew that +Belle's hackles were very much on the rise. She could not read him, +except very superficially, but she was reading the strange girl like a +book and was not liking anything she read. Wherefore, when Garlock and +his joyous companion reached the great spaceship-- + +"How come you picked up _that_ little man-eating shark?" she sent, +venomously, on a tight band. + +"It wasn't a case of picking her up." Garlock grinned. "I haven't been +able to find any urbane way of scraping her off. First Contact, you +know." + +"She wants altogether too much Contact for a First--I'll scrape her off, +even if she is one of the nobler class on this world...." Belle changed +her tactics even before Garlock began his reprimand. "I shouldn't have +said that, Clee, of course." She laughed lightly. "It was just the +shock; there wasn't anything in any of my First Contact tapes covering +what to do about beautiful and enticing girls who try to seduce our men. +She doesn't know, though, of course, that she's supposed to be a +bug-eyed monster and not human at all. Won't Xenology be in for a rough +ride when we check in? Wow!" + +"You can play _that_ in spades, sister." And for the rest of the day +Belle played flawlessly the role of perfect hostess. + +It was full dark before the Hodellians could be persuaded to leave the +_Pleiades_ and the locks were closed. + + * * * + +"I have refused one hundred seventy-eight invitations," Lola reported +then. "All of us, individually and collectively, have been invited to +eat everything, everywhere in town. To see shows in a dozen different +theaters and eighteen night spots. To dance all night in twenty-one +different places, ranging from dives to strictly soup-and-fish. I was +nice about it, of course--just begged off because we were dead from our +belts both ways from our long, hard trip. My thought, of course, is that +we'd better eat our own food and take it slowly at first. Check, Clee?" + +"On the beam, dead center. And you weren't lying much, either. I feel as +though I'd done a day's work. After supper there's a thing I've got to +discuss with all three of you." + +Supper was soon over. Then: + +"We've got to make a mighty important decision," Garlock began, +abruptly. "Grand Lady Neldine--that title isn't exact, but +close--wondered why I didn't respond at all, either way. However, she +didn't make a point of it, and I let her wonder; but we'll have to +decide by tomorrow morning what to do, and it'll have to be airtight. +These Hodellians expect Jim and me to impregnate as many as possible of +their highest-rated women before we leave. By their Code it's mandatory, +since we can't hide the fact that we rate much higher than they +do--their highest rating is only Grade Two by our standards--and all the +planets hereabouts up-grade themselves with the highest-grade new blood +they can find. Ordinarily, they'd expect you two girls to become +pregnant by your choices of the top men of the planet; but they know you +wouldn't breed down and don't expect you to. But how in all hell can Jim +and I refuse to breed them up without dealing out the deadliest insult +they know?" + +There was a minute of silence. "We can't," James said then. A grin began +to spread over his face. "It might not be too bad an idea, at that, come +to think of it. That ball of fire they picked out for you would be a +blue-ribbon dish in anybody's cook-book. And Grand Lady Lemphi--" He +kissed the tips of two fingers and waved them in the air. "Strictly Big +League Material; in capital letters." + +"Is that nice, you back-alley tomcat?" Belle asked, plaintively; then +paused in thought and went on slowly, "I won't pretend to like it, but I +won't do any public screaming about it." + +"Any anthropologist would say you'll have to," Lola declared without +hesitation. "I don't like it, either. I think it's horrible; but it's +excellent genetics and we cannot and must not violate systems-wide +mores." + +"You're all missing the point!" Garlock snapped. He got up, jammed his +hands into his pockets, and began to pace the floor. "I didn't think any +one of you was _that_ stupid! If _that_ was all there were to it we'd do +it as a matter of course. But _think_, damn it! There's nothing higher +than Gunther Two in the humanity of this planet. Telepathy is the only +ESP they have. High Gunther uses hitherto unused portions of the brain. +It's transmitted through genes, which are dominant, cumulative, and +self-multiplying by interaction. Jim and I carry more, stronger, and +higher Gunther genes than any other two men known to live. Can +we--_dare_ we--plant such genes where none have ever been known before?" + +Two full minutes of silence. + +"That one has _really_ got a bone in it," James said, unhelpfully. + + * * * + +Three minutes more of silence. + +"It's up to you, Lola," Garlock said then. "It's your field." + +"I was afraid of that. There's a way. Personally, I like it less even +than the other, but it's the only one I've been able to think up. First, +are you absolutely sure that our refusal--Belle's and mine, I mean--to +breed down will be valid with them?" + +"Positive." + +"Then the whole society from which we come will have to be strictly +monogamous, in the narrowest, most literal sense of the term. No +exceptions whatever. Adultery, anything illicit, has always been not +only unimaginable, but in fact impossible. We pair--or marry, or +whatever they do here--once only. For life. Desire and potency can exist +only within the pair; never outside it. Like eagles. If a man's wife +dies, even, he loses all desire and all potency. That would make it +physically impossible for you two to follow the Hodellian Code. You'd +both be completely impotent with any women whatever except your +mates--Belle and me." + +"That will work," Belle said. "_How_ it will work!" She paused. Then, +suddenly, she whistled; the loud, full-bodied, ear-piercing, +tongue-and-teeth whistle which so few women ever master. Her eyes +sparkled and she began to laugh with unrestrained glee. "But do you know +what you've done, Lola?" + +"Nothing, except to suggest a solution. What's so funny about that?" + +"You're wonderful, Lola--simply priceless! You've created something +brand-new to science--an impotent tomcat! And the more I think about +it...." Belle was rocking back and forth with laughter. She could not +possibly talk, but her thought flowed on, "I just love you all to +pieces! An _impotent tomcat_, and he'll _have_ to stay true to me--Oh, +this is simply _killing_ me--I'll _never_ live through it!" + +"It _does_ put us on the spot--especially Jim," came Garlock's thought. + + * * * + +He, too, began to laugh; and Lola, as soon as she stopped thinking about +the thing only as a problem in anthropology, joined in. James, however, +did not think it was very funny. + +"And that's less than half of it!" Belle went on, still unable to talk. +"Think of Clee, Lola. Six two--over two hundred--hard as nails--a +perfect hunk of hard red meat--telling this whole damn cockeyed region +of space that he's impotent, too! And with a perfectly straight face! +And it ties in so _beautifully_ with his making no response, yes or no, +when she propositioned him. The poor, innocent, impotent lamb just +simply didn't have even the faintest inkling of what she meant! Oh, +my...." + +"Listen--_listen_--_listen_!" James managed finally to break in. "Not +that I want to be promiscuous, but...." + +"There, there, my precious little impotent tomcat," Belle soothed him +aloud, between giggles and snorts. "Us Earth-girls will take care of our +lover-boys, see if we don't. You won't need any nasty little...." Belle +could not hold the pose, but went off again into whoops of laughter. +"_What_ a brain you've got, Lola! I thought I could imagine _anything_, +but to make these two guys of ours--the two absolute tops of the whole +Solar System--it's a stroke of genius...." + +"Shut up, will you, you human hyena, and _listen_!" James roared aloud. +"There ought to be _some_ better way than that." + +"Better? Than sheer perfection?" Belle was still laughing but could now +talk coherently. + +"If you can think of another way, Jim, the meeting is still open." +Garlock was wiping his eyes. "But it'll have to be a dilly. I'm not +exactly enamored of Lola's idea, either, but as the answer it's one +hundred percent to as many decimal places as you want to take time to +write zeroes." + +There was more talk, but no improvement could be made upon Lola's idea. + +"Well, we've got until morning," Garlock said, finally. "If anybody +comes up with anything by then, let me know. If not, it goes into effect +the minute we open the locks. The meeting is adjourned." + + * * * + +Belle and James left the room; and, a few minutes later, Garlock went +out. Lola followed him into his room and closed the door behind her. She +sat down on the edge of a chair, lighted a cigarette, and began to smoke +in short, nervous puffs. She opened her mouth to say something, but shut +it without making a sound. + +"You're afraid of me, Lola?" he asked, quietly. + +"Oh, I don't.... Well, that is...." She wouldn't lie, and she wouldn't +admit the truth. "You see, I've never ... I mean, I haven't had very +much experience." + +"You needn't be afraid of me at all. I'm not going to pair with you." + +"You're not?" Her mouth dropped open and the cigarette fell out of it. +She took a few seconds to recover it. "Why not? Don't you think I could +do a good enough job?" + +She stood up and stretched, to show her splendid figure to its best +advantage. + +Garlock laughed. "Nothing like that, Lola; you have plenty of sex +appeal. It's just that I don't like the conditions. I never have paired. +I never have had much to do with women, and that little has been urbane, +logical, and strictly _en passant_; on the level of mutual physical +desire. Thus, I have never taken a virgin. Pairing with one is very +definitely not my idea of urbanity and there's altogether too much +obligation to suit me. For all of which good reasons I am not going to +pair with you, now or ever." + +"How do you know whether I'm a virgin or not? You've never read me that +deep. Nobody can. Not even you, unless I let you." + +"Reading isn't necessary--you flaunt it like a banner." + +"I don't know what you mean.... I certainly don't do it intentionally. +But I ought to pair with you, Clee!" Lola had lost all of her +nervousness, most of her fear. "It's part of the job I was chosen for. +If I'd known, I'd've gone out and got some experience. Really I would +have." + +"I believe that. I think you would have been silly enough to have done +just that. And you have a very high regard for your virginity, too, +don't you?" + +"Well, I ... I used to. But we'd better go ahead with it. I've _got_ +to." + +"No such thing. Permissible, but not obligatory." + +"But it was assumed. As a matter of course. Anyway ... well, when that +girl started making passes at you, I thought you could have just as much +fun, or even more--she's charming; a real darling, isn't she?--without +pairing with me, and then I had to open my big mouth and be the one to +keep you from playing games with _anyone except_ me, and I certainly am +not going to let you suffer...." + +"Bunk!" Garlock snorted. "Sheer flapdoodle! Pure psychological +prop-wash, started and maintained by men who are either too weak to +direct and control their drives or who haven't any real work to occupy +their minds. It applies to many men, of course, possibly to most. It +does not, however, apply to all, and, it lacks one whole hell of a lot +of applying to me. Does that make you feel better?" + +"Oh, it does ... it does. Thanks, Clee. You know, I like you, a lot." + +"Do you? Kiss me." + +She did so. + +"See?" + +"You _tricked_ me!" + + * * * + +"I did not. I want you to see the truth and face it. Your idealism is +admirable, permanent, and shatter-proof; but your starry-eyed +schoolgirl's mawkishness is none of the three. You'll have to grow up, +some day. In my opinion, forcing yourself to give up one of your +hardest-held ideals--virginity--merely because of the utter bilge that +those idiot head-shrinkers stuffed you with, is sheer, plain idiocy. I +suppose that makes you like me even less, but I'm laying it right on the +line." + +"No ... more. I'll argue with you, when we have time, about some of your +points, but the last one--if it's valid--has tremendous force. I didn't +know men felt that way. But no matter what my feeling for you really is, +I'm really grateful to you for the reprieve ... and you know, Clee, I'm +pretty sure you're going to get us back home. If anyone can, you can." + +"I'm going to try to. Even if I can't, it will be Belle, not you, that +I'll take for the long pull. And not because you'd rather have +Jim--which you would, of course...." + +"To be honest, I think I would." + +"Certainly. He's your type. You're not mine; Belle is. Well, that +buttons it up, Brownie, except for one thing. To Jim and Belle and +everyone else, we're paired." + +"Of course. Urbanity, as well as to present a united front to any and +all worlds." + +"Check. So watch your shield." + +"I always do. That stuff is 'way, 'way down. I'm awfully glad you called +me 'Brownie,' Clee. I didn't think you ever would." + +"I didn't expect to--but I never talked to a woman this way before, +either. Maybe it had a mellowing effect." + +"You don't _need_ mellowing--I do like you a lot, just exactly as you +are." + +"If true, I'm very glad of it. But don't strain yourself; and I mean +that literally, not as sarcasm." + +"I know. I'm not straining a bit, and this'll prove it." + +She kissed him again, and this time it was a production. + +"That was an eminently convincing demonstration, Brownie, but don't do +it too often." + +"I won't." She laughed, gayly and happily. "If there's any next time, +you'll have to kiss me first." + +She paused and sobered. "But remember. If you should change your mind, +any time you really want to ... to kiss me, come right in. I won't be as +silly and nervous and afraid as I was just now. That's a promise. Good +night, Clee." + +"Good night, Brownie." + + + + +CHAPTER 2 + + +Next morning, Garlock was the last one, by a fraction of a minute, into +the Main. "Good morning, all," he said, with a slight smile. + +"Huh? How come?" James demanded, as all four started toward the dining +nook. + +Garlock's smile widened. "Lola. She brought me a pot of coffee and +wouldn't let me out until I drank it." + +"_Brought?_" + +"Yeah. They haven't read their room-tapes yet, so they don't know that +room-service is practically unlimited." + +"Why didn't I think of that coffee business a couple of years ago?" + +"Well, why didn't I think of it myself, ten years ago?" + +Belle's eyes had been going from one, man to the other. "Just _what_ are +you two talking about? If it's anybody's business except your own?" + +"He is an early-morning grouch," James explained, as they sat down at +the table. "Not fit to associate with man or beast--not even his own +dog, if he had one--when he first gets up. How come you were smart +enough to get the answer so quick, Brownie?" + +"Oh, the pattern isn't too rare." She shrugged daintily, sweeping the +compliment aside. "Especially among men on big jobs who work under +tremendous pressure." + +"Then how about Jim?" Belle asked. + +"Clee's the Big Brain, not me," James said. + +"You're a lot Bigger Brain than any of the men Lola's talking about," +Belle insisted. + +"That's true," Lola agreed, "but Jim probably is--must be--an icebox +raider. Eats in the middle of the night. Clee probably doesn't. It's a +good bet that he doesn't nibble between meals at all. Check, Clee?" + +"Check. But what has an empty stomach got to do with the case?" + +"Everything. Nobody knows how. Lots of theories--enzymes, blood sugar, +endocrine balance, what have you--but no proof. It isn't always true. +However, six or seven hours of empty stomach, in a man who takes his job +to bed with him, is very apt to uglify his pre-breakfast disposition." + +Breakfast over and out in the Main: + +"But when a man's disposition is ugly all the time, how can you tell the +difference?" Belle asked, innocently. + +"I'll let that pass," Garlock's smile disappeared, "because we've got +work to do. Have any of you thought of any improvement on Lola's +monogamous society?" + +No one had. In fact-- + +"There may be a loop-hole in it," Lola said, thoughtfully. "Did any of +you happen to notice whether they know anything about artificial +insemination?" + +"D'you think I'd stand for _that_?" Belle blazed, before Garlock could +begin to search his mind. "I'd scratch anybody's eyes out--if you'd +thought of that idea as a woman instead of as a near-Ph.D. in +anthropology you'd've thrown it into the converter before it even +hatched!" + +"Invasion of privacy? That covers it, of course, but I didn't think it +would bother you a bit." Lola paused, studying the other girl intently. +"You're quite a problem yourself. Callous--utterly savage humor--yet +very sensitive in some ways--fastidious...." + +"I'm not on the table for dissection!" Belle snapped. "Study me all you +please, but keep the notes in your notebook. I'd suggest you study +Clee." + +"Oh, I have been. He baffles me, too. I'm not very good yet, you...." + +"That's the unders...." + +"_Cut_ it!" Garlock ordered, sharply. "I said we had work to do. Jim, +you're hunting up the nearest observatory." + +"How about transportation? No teleportation?" + +"Out. Rent a car or hire a plane, or both. Fill your wallet--better have +too much money than not enough. If you're too far away tonight to make +it feasible to come back here, send me a flash. Brownie, you'll work +this town first. Belle and I will have to work in the library for a +while. We'll all want to compare notes tonight...." + +"Yeah," James said into the pause, "I could tune in remote, but I don't +know where I'll be, so it might not be so good." + +"Check. You can 'port, but be _damn_ sure nobody sees or senses you +doing it. That buttons it up, I guess." + + * * * + +James and Lola left the ship; Garlock and Belle went into the library. + +"If I didn't know you were impotent, Clee," Belle shivered affectedly +and began to laugh, "I'd be scared to death to be alone with you in this +great big spaceship. Lola hasn't realized yet what she really hatched +out--the screamingest screamer ever pulled on anybody!" + +"It isn't _that_ funny. You have got a savage sense of humor." + +"Perhaps." She shrugged her shoulders. "But you were on the receiving +end, which makes a big difference. She's a peculiar sort of duck. +Brainy, but impersonal--academic. She knows all the words and all their +meanings, all the questions and all the answers, but she doesn't apply +any of them to herself. She's always the observer, never the +participant. Pure egg-head ... pure? _That's_ it. She looks, acts, +talks, and thinks like a _virgin_.... Well, if that's all, she isn't +any--or is she? Even though you've started calling her 'Brownie,' like +my now-tamed tomcat, you might not...." She stared at him. + +"Go ahead. Probe." + +"Why waste energy trying to crack a Prime's shield? But just out of +curiosity, are you two pairing, or not?" + +"Tut-tut; don't be inurbane. Let's talk about Jim instead. I thought +he'd be gibbering." + +"No, I'm working under double wraps--full dampers. I don't want him in +love with me. You want to know why?" + +"I think I know why." + +"Because having him mooning around underfoot would weaken the team and I +want to get back to Tellus." + +"I was wrong, then. I thought you were out after bigger game." + +Belle's face went stiff and still. "What do you mean by that?" + +"Plain enough, I would think. Wherever you are, you've got to be the +Boss. You've never been in any kind of a party for fifteen minutes +without taking it over. When you snap the whip everybody jumps--or +else--and you swing a wicked knife. For your information I don't jump, I +am familiar with knives, and you will never run this project or any part +of it." + + * * * + +Belle's face set; her eyes hardened. "While we're putting out +information, take note that I'm just as good with actual knives as with +figurative ones. If you're still thinking of blistering my fanny, don't +try it. You'll find a rawhide haft sticking up out of one of those +muscles you're so proud of--clear enough Mr. Garlock." + +"Why don't you talk sense, instead of such yak-yak?" + +"Huh?" + +"I know you're a Prime, too, but don't let it go to your head. I've got +more stuff than you have, so you can't Gunther me. You weigh one +thirty-five to my two seventeen. I'm harder, stronger, and faster than +you are. You're probably a bit limberer--not too much--but I've +forgotten more judo than you ever will know. So what's the answer?" + +Belle was breathing hard. "Then why don't you do it right now?" + +"Several reasons. I couldn't brag much about licking anybody I outweigh +by eighty-two pounds. I can't figure out your logic--if any--but I'm +pretty sure now it wouldn't do either of us any good. Just the +opposite." + +"From your standpoint, would that be bad?" + +"What a _hell_ of a logic! You have got the finest brain of any woman +living. You're stronger than Jim is by a lot more than the +Prime-to-Operator ratio--you've got more initiative, more drive, more +guts. You know as well as I do what your brain may mean before we get +back. Why in all hell don't you start _using_ it?" + +"_You_ are complimenting _me_?" + +"No. It's the truth, isn't it?" + +"What difference does that make? Clee Garlock, I simply can't understand +you at all." + +"That makes it mutual. I can't understand a geometry in which the +crookedest line between any two given points is the best line. Let's get +to work, shall we?" + +"Uh-huh, let's. One more bit of information, though, first. Any such +idea as taking the Project away from you simply _never_ entered my +mind!" She gave him a warm and friendly smile as she walked over to the +file-cabinets. + +For hours, then, they worked; each scanning tape after tape. At mid-day +they ate a light lunch. Shortly thereafter, Garlock put away his reader +and all his loose tapes. "Are you getting anywhere, Belle? I'm not +making any progress." + +"Yes, but of course planets are probably pretty much the same +everywhere--Tellus-type ones, I mean, of course. Is all the Xenology as +cockeyed as I'm afraid it must be?" + +"Check. The one basic assumption was that there are no human beings +other than Tellurians. From that they derive the secondary assumption +that humanoid types will be scarce. From there they scatter out in all +directions. So I'll have to roll my own. I've got to see Atterlin, +anyway. I'll be back for supper. So long." + + * * * + +At the Port Office, Grand Lady Neldine met him even more +enthusiastically than before; taking both his hands and pressing them +against her firm, almost-bare breasts. She tried to hold back as Garlock +led her along the corridor. + +"I have an explanation, and in a sense an apology, for you, Grand Lady +Neldine, and for you, Governor Atterlin," he thought carefully. "I would +have explained yesterday, but I had no understanding of the situation +here until our anthropologist, Lola Montandon, elucidated it very +laboriously to me. She herself, a scientist highly trained in that +specialty, could grasp it only by referring back to somewhat similar +situations which may have existed in the remote past--so remote a past +that the concept is known only to specialists and is more than half +mythical, even to them." + +He went on to give in detail the sexual customs, obligations, and +limitations of Lola's purely imaginary civilization. + +"Then it isn't that you don't want to, but you _can't_?" the lady asked, +incredulously. + +"Mentally, I can have no desire. Physically, the act is impossible," he +assured her. + +"What a shame!" Her thought was a peculiar mixture of disappointment and +relief: disappointment in that she was not to bear this man's +super-child; relief in that, after all, she had not personally +failed--if she couldn't have this perfectly wonderful man herself, no +other woman except his wife could ever have him, either. But what a +shame to waste such a man as that on _any_ one woman! It was really too +bad. + +"I see ... I see--wonderful!" Atterlin's thought was not at all +incredulous, but vastly awed. "It is of course logical that as the power +of mind increases, physical matters become less and less important. But +you will have much to give us; we may perhaps have some small things to +give you. If we could visit your Tellus, perhaps...?" + +"That also is impossible. We four in the _Pleiades_ are lost in space. +This is the first planet we have visited on our first trial of a new +method--new to us, at least--of interstellar travel. We missed our +objective, probably by many millions of parsecs, and it is quite +possible that we four will never be able to find our way back. We are +trying now, by charting the galaxies throughout billions of cubic +parsecs of space, to find merely the direction in which our own galaxy +lies." + +"What a concept! What stupendous minds! But such immense distances, sir +... what can you possibly be using for a space-drive?" + +"None, as you understand the term. We travel by instantaneous +translation, by means of something we call 'Gunther'.... I am not at all +sure that I can explain it to you satisfactorily, but I will try to do +so, if you wish." + +"Please do so, sir, by all means." + + * * * + +Garlock opened the highest Gunther cells of his mind. There was nothing +as elementary as telepathy, teleportation, telekinesis, or the like; it +was the pure, raw Gunther of the Gunther Drive, which even he himself +made no pretense of understanding fully. He opened those cells and +pushed that knowledge at the two Hodellian minds. + +The result was just as instantaneous and just as catastrophic as Garlock +had expected. Both blocks went up almost instantly. + +"Oh, no!" Atterlin exclaimed, his face turning white. + +The girl shrieked once, covered her face with her hands, and collapsed +on the floor. + +"Oh, I'm _so_ sorry ... excuse my ignorance, please!" Garlock implored, +as he picked the girl up, carried her across the room to a sofa, and +assured himself that she had not been really hurt. She recovered +quickly. "I'm very sorry, Grand Lady Neldine and Governor Atterlin, but +I didn't know ... that is, I didn't realize...." + +"You are trying to break it gently." Atterlin was both shocked and +despondent. "This being the first planet you have visited, you simply +did not realize how feeble our minds really are." + +"Oh, not at all, really, sir and lady." Garlock began deftly to repair +the morale he had shattered. "Merely younger. With your system of +genetics, so much more logical and efficient than our strict monogamy, +your race will undoubtedly make more progress in a few centuries than we +made in many millennia. And in a few centuries more you will pass +us--will master this only partially-known Gunther Drive. + +"Esthetically, Lady Neldine, I would like very much to father you a +child." He allowed his coldly unmoved gaze to survey her charms. "I am +sorry indeed that it cannot be. I trust that you, Governor Atterlin, +will be kind enough to spread word of our physical shortcomings, and so +spare us further embarrassment?" + +"Not shortcomings, sir, and, I truly hope, no embarrassment," Atterlin +protested. "We are immensely glad to have seen you, since your very +existence gives us so much hope for the future. I will spread word, and +every Hodellian will do whatever he can to help you in your quest." + +"Thank you, sir and lady," and Garlock took his leave. + +"What an act, my male-looking but impotent darling!" came Belle's clear, +incisive thought, bubbling with unrestrained merriment. "For our Doctor +Garlock, the Prime Exponent and First Disciple of Truth, _what_ an act! +_Esthetically_, he'd like to father her a child, it says here in fine +print--Boy, if she only knew! One tiny grain of truth and she'd chase +you from here to Andromeda! Clee, I _swear_ this thing is going to kill +me yet!" + +"Anything that would do that I'm very much in favor of!" Garlock growled +the thought and snapped up his shield. + +This one was, quite definitely, Belle's round. + + * * * + +Garlock took the Hodellian equivalent of a bus to the center of the +city, then set out aimlessly to walk. The buildings and their +arrangement, he noted--not much to his surprise now--were not too +different from those of the cities of Earth. + +With his guard down to about the sixth level, highly receptive but not +at all selective, he strolled up one street and down another. He was not +attentive to detail yet; he was trying to get the broad aspects, the +"feel" of this hitherto unknown civilization. + +The ether was practically saturated with thought. Apparently this was +the afternoon rush hour, as the sidewalks were crowded with people and +the streets were full of cars. It did not seem as though anyone, whether +in the buildings, on the sidewalks, or in the cars, was doing any +blocking at all. If there were any such things as secrets on Hodell, +they were scarce. Each person, man, woman, or child, went about his own +business, radiating full blast. No one paid any attention to the +thoughts of anyone else except in the case of couples or groups, the +units of which were engaged in conversation. It reminded Garlock of a +big Tellurian party when the punch-bowls were running low--everybody +talking at the top of his voice and nobody listening. + +This whole gale of thought was blowing over Garlock's receptors like a +Great Plains wind over miles-wide fields of corn. He did not address +anyone directly; no one addressed him. At first, quite a few young +women, at sight of his unusual physique, had sent out tentative feelers +of thought; and some men had wondered, in the same tentative and +indirect fashion, who he was and where he came from. However, when the +information he had given Atterlin spread throughout the city--and it did +not take long--no one paid any more attention to him than they did to +each other. + +Probing into and through various buildings, he learned that groups of +people were quitting work at intervals of about fifteen minutes. There +were thoughts of tidying up desks; of letting the rest of this junk go +until tomorrow; of putting away and/or covering up office machines of +various sorts. There were thoughts of powdering noses and of repairing +make-up. + +He pulled in his receptors and scanned the crowded ways for +guardians--he'd have to call them that until either he or Lola found out +their real name. Same as at the airport--the more people, the more +guardians. What were they? How? And why? + + * * * + +He probed; carefully but thoroughly. When he had talked to the Arpalone +he had read him easily enough, but here there was nothing whatever to +read. The creature simply was not thinking at all. But that didn't make +sense! Garlock tuned, first down, then up; and finally, at the very top +of his range, he found something, but he did not at first know what it +was. It seemed to be a mass-detector ... no, two of them, paired and +balanced. Oh, that was it! One tuned to humanity, one to the other +guardians--balanced across a sort of bridge--_that_ was how they kept +the ratio so constant! But why? There seemed to be some wide-range +receptors there, too, but nothing seemed to be coming in.... + +While he was still studying and still baffled, some kind of stimulus, +which was so high and so faint and so alien that he could neither +identify nor interpret it, touched the Arpalone's far-flung receptors. +Instantly the creature jumped, his powerful, widely-bowed legs sending +him high above the heads of the crowd and, it seemed to Garlock, +directly toward him. Simultaneously there was an insistent, low-pitched, +whistling scream, somewhat like the noise made by an airplane in a +no-power dive; and Garlock saw, out of the corner of one eye, a +yellowish something flashing downward through the air. + +At the same moment the woman immediately in front of Garlock stifled a +scream and jumped backward, bumping into him and almost knocking him +down. He staggered, caught his balance, and automatically put his arm +around his assailant, to keep her from falling to the sidewalk. + + * * * + +In the meantime the guardian, having landed very close to the spot the +woman had occupied a moment before, leaped again; this time vertically +upward. The thing, whatever it was, was now braking frantically with +wings, tail, and body; trying madly to get away. Too late. There was a +bone-crushing impact as the two bodies came together in mid-air; a +jarring thud as the two creatures, inextricably intertwined, struck the +pavement as one. + +The thing varied in color, Garlock now saw, shading from bright orange +at the head to pale yellow at the tail. It had a savagely-tearing curved +beak; tremendously powerful wings; its short, thick legs ended in +hawk-like talons. + +The guardian's bowed legs had already immobilized the yellow wings by +clamping them solidly against the yellow body. His two lower arms were +holding the frightful talons out of action. His third hand gripped the +orange throat, his fourth was exerting tremendous force against the +jointure of neck and body. The neck, originally short, was beginning to +stretch. + +For several seconds Garlock had been half-conscious that his accidental +companion was trying, with more and more energy, to disengage his +encircling left arm from her waist. He wrenched his attention away from +the spectacular fight--to which no one else, not even the near-victim, +had paid the slightest attention--and now saw that he had his arm around +the bare waist of a statuesque matron whose entire costume would have +made perhaps half of a Tellurian sun-suit. He dropped his arm with a +quick and abject apology. + +"I should apologize to you instead, Captain Garlock," she thought, with +a wide and friendly smile, "for knocking you down, and I thank you for +catching me before I fell. I should not have been startled, of course. I +would not have been, except that this is the first time that I, +personally, have been attacked." + +"But what _are_ they?" Garlock blurted. + +"I don't know." The woman turned her head and glanced, in complete +disinterest, at the two furiously-battling creatures. Garlock knew now +that this was the first time, except for that instantly-dismissed thrill +of surprise at being the actual target of an attack, that she had +thought of either of them. "Orange-yellow? It could be a ... a fumapty, +perhaps, but I've no idea, really. You see, such things are none of our +business." + +She thought at him, a half-shrug, half-grimace of mild distaste--not at +the personal contact with the man nor at the savage duel; but at even +thinking of either the guardian or the yellow monster--and walked away +into the crowd. + +Garlock's attention flashed back to the fighters. The yellow thing's +neck had been stretched to twice its natural length and the guardian had +_eaten_ almost through it. There was a terrific crunch, a couple of +smacking, gobbling swallows, and head parted from body. The orange beak +still clashed open and shut, however, and the body still thrashed +violently. + +Shifting his grips, the guardian proceeded to tear a hole into his +victim's body, just below its breast-bone. Thrusting two arms into the +opening, he yanked out two organs--one of which, Garlock thought, could +have been the heart--and ate them both; if not with extreme gusto, at +least in a workmanlike and thoroughly competent fashion. He then picked +up the head in one hand, grabbed the tip of a wing with another, and +marched up the street for half a block, dragging the body behind him. + +He lifted a manhole cover with his two unoccupied hands, dropped the +remains down the hole thus exposed, and let the cover slam back into +place. He then squatted down, licked himself meticulously clean with a +long, black, extremely agile tongue, and went on about his enigmatic +business quite as though nothing had happened. + +Garlock strolled around a few minutes longer, but could not recapture +any interest in the doings of the human beings around him. He had filed +away every detail of what had just happened, and it had so many bizarre +aspects that he could not think of anything else. Wherefore he flagged +down a "taxi" and was taken out to the _Pleiades_. Belle and Lola were +in the Main. + + * * * + +"I saw the _damndest_ thing, Clee!" Lola exclaimed. "I've been gnawing +my fingernails off up to the knuckles, waiting for you!" + +Lola's experience had been very similar to Garlock's own, except in that +her monster was an intense green in color and looked something like a +bat about four feet long, with six-inch canine teeth and several +stingers.... + +"Did you find out the name of the thing?" Garlock asked. + +"No. I asked half-a-dozen people, but nobody would even listen to me +except one half-grown boy, and the best he could do was that it might be +something he had heard another boy say somebody had told him might be a +'lemart.' And as to those lower-case Arpalones, the best I could dig out +of anybody was just 'guardians.' Did you do any better?" + +"No, I didn't do as well," and he told the girls about his own +experience. + +"But I didn't find any detectors or receptors, Clee," Lola frowned. +"Where were they?" + +"'Way up--up here," he showed her. "I'll make a full tape tonight on +everything I found out about the guardians and the Arpalones--besides my +regular report, I mean--since they're yours, and you can make me one +about your friend the green bat...." + + * * * + +"Hey, I _like_ that!" Belle broke in. "That _could_ be taken amiss, you +know, by such a sensitive soul as I!" + +"Check." Garlock chuckled. "I'll have to file that one, in case I want +to use it sometime. How're you coming, Belle?" + +"Nice!" Belle's voracious mind had been so busy absorbing new +knowledge that she had temporarily forgotten about her fight with +her captain. "I'm just about done here. I'll be ready tomorrow, I +think, to visit their library and tape up some planetological and +planetographical--notice how insouciantly I toss off those two-credit +words?--data on this here planet Hodell." + +"Good going. You've been listening to this stuff Lola and I were chewing +on--does any of it make sense to you?" + +"It does not. I never heard anything to compare with it." + +"Excuse me for changing the subject," Lola put in, plaintively, "but +when, if ever, do we eat? Do we _have_ to wait until that confounded +James boy gets back from wherever it was he went?" + +"If you're hungry, we'll eat now." + +"_Hungry?_ Look!" Lola turned herself sidewise, placed one hand in the +small of her back, and pressed hard with the other her flat, taut belly. +"See? Only a couple of inches from belt-buckle to backbone--dangerously +close to the point of utter collapse." + +"You poor, abused little thing!" Garlock laughed and all three crossed +the room to the dining alcove. While they were still ordering, James +appeared beside them. + +"Find out anything?" Garlock asked. + +"Yes and no. Yes, in that they have an excellent observatory, with a +hundred-eighty-inch reflector, on a mountain only seventy-five miles +from here. No, in that I didn't find any duplication of nebulary +configurations with the stuff I had with me. However, it was relatively +coarse. Tomorrow I'll take a lot of fine stuff along. It'll take some +time--a full day, at least." + +"I expected that. Good going, Jim!" + +All four ate heartily, and, after eating, they taped up the day's +reports. Then, tired from their first real day's work in weeks, all went +to their rooms. + + * * * + +A few minutes later, Garlock tapped lightly at Lola's door. + +"Come in." She stiffened involuntarily, then relaxed and smiled. "Oh, +yes, Clee: of course. You're...." + +"No, I'm not. I've been doing a lot of thinking about you since last +night, and I may have come up with an answer or two. Also, Belle knows +we aren't pairing, and if we don't hide behind a screen at least once in +a while, she'll know we aren't going to." + +"Screen?" + +"Screen. Didn't you know these four private rooms are solid? Haven't you +read your house-tape yet?" + +"No. But do you think Belle would actually peek?" + +"Do you think she wouldn't?" + +"Well, I don't like her very much, but I wouldn't think she would do +anything like that, Clee. It isn't urbane." + +"She isn't urbane, either, whenever she thinks it might be advantageous +not to be." + +"What a _terrible_ thing to say!" + +"Take it from me, if Belle Bellamy doesn't know everything that goes on +it isn't from lack of trying. You wouldn't know about room service, +either, then--better scan that tape before you go to sleep +tonight--what'll you have in the line of a drink to while away enough +time so she will know we've been playing games?" + +"Ginger ale, please." + +"I'll have ginger beer. You do it like so." He slid a panel aside, his +fingers played briefly on a typewriter-like keyboard. Drinks and ice +appeared. "Anything you want--details of the tape." + +He lighted two cigarettes, handed her one, stirred his drink. "Now, fair +lady--or should I say beauteous dark lady?--we will follow the precept +of that immortal Chinese philosopher, Chin On." + +"You _are_ a Prime Operator, aren't you?" She laughed, but sobered +quickly. "I'm worried. You said I flaunted virginity like a banner, and +now Belle.... What am I doing wrong?" + +"There's a lot wrong. Not so much what you're doing as what you aren't +doing. You're too aloof--detached--egg-headish. You know the score, +words and music, but you don't sing. All you do is listen. Belle thinks +you're not only a physical virgin, but a psychic-blocked prude. I know +better. You're so full of conflict between what you want to do--what you +know is right--and what those three-cell-brained nincompoops made you +think you ought to do that you have got no more degrees of freedom than +a piston-rod. You haven't been yourself for a minute since you came +aboard. Check?" + +"You _have_ been thinking, haven't you? You may be right; except that +it's been longer than that ... ever since the first preliminaries, I +think. But what can I _do_ about it, Clee?" + +"Contact. Three-quarters full, say; enough for me to give you what I +think is the truth." + +"But you said you _never_ went screens down with a woman?" + +"There's a first time for everything. Come in." + + * * * + +She did so, held contact for almost a minute, then pulled herself loose. + +"Ug-gh-gh." She shivered. "I'm glad I haven't got a mind like that." + +"And the same from me to you. Of course the real truth may lie somewhere +in between. I may be as far off the beam on one side as you are on the +other." + +"I hope so. But it cleared things up no end--it untied a million knots. +Even that other thing--brotherly love? It's a very nice concept--you +see, I never had any brothers." + +"That's probably one thing that was the matter with you. Nothing warmer +than that, certainly, and never will be." + +"And I suppose you got the thought--it must have jumped up and smacked +you--" Lola's hot blush was visible even through her heavy tan, "how +many times I've felt like running my fingers up and down your ribs and +grabbing a handful of those terrific muscles of yours, just to see if +they're as hard as they look?" + +"I'm glad you brought that up; I don't know whether I would have dared +to or not. You've got to stop acting like a Third instead of an +Operator; and you've got to stop acting as though you had never been +within ten feet of me. Now's as good a time as any." He took off his +shirt and struck a strong-man's pose. "Come ahead." + +"By golly, I'm _going_ to!" Then, a moment later, "Why, they're even +_harder_! How do you, a scientist, psionicist, and scholar, keep in such +hard shape as that?" + +"An hour a day in the gym, three hundred sixty-five days a year. Many +are better--but a hell of a lot are worse." + +"I'll say." She finished her ginger ale, sat down in her chair, leaned +back and put her legs up on the bed. "That was a relief of tension if +there ever was one. I haven't felt so good since they picked me as +home-town candidate--and that was a mighty small town and eight months +ago. Bring on your dragons, Clee, and I'll slay 'em far and wide. But I +can't actually _be_ like she is...." + +"Thank God for that. Deliver me from _two_ such pretzel-benders aboard +one ship." + +"... but I could have been a pretty good actress, I think." + +"Correction, please. 'Outstanding' is the word." + +"Thank you, kind sir. And women--men, too, of course--do bring up +certain memories, to ... to...." + +"To roll 'em around on their tongues and give their taste-buds a treat." + +"Exactly. So where I don't have any appropriate actual memories to bring +up, I'll make like an actress. Check?" + +"Good girl! Now you're rolling--we're in like Flynn. Well, we've been in +screen long enough, I guess. Fare thee well, little sister Brownie, +until we meet again." He tossed the remains of their refreshments, trays +and all, into the chute, picked up his shirt, and started out. + +"Put it _on_, Clee!" she whispered, intensely. + +"Why?" He grinned cheerfully. "It'd look still better if I peeled down +to the altogether." + +"You're incorrigible," she said, but her answering grin was wide and +perfectly natural. "You know, if I had had a brother something like you +it would have saved me a lot of wear and tear. I'll see you in the +morning before breakfast." + + * * * + +And she did. They strolled together to breakfast; not holding hands, but +with hip almost touching hip. Relaxed, friendly, on very cordial and +satisfactory terms. Lola punched breakfast orders for them both. Belle +drove a probe, which bounced--Lola's screen was tight, although her +brown eyes were innocent and bland. + +But during the meal, in response to a double-edged, wickedly-barbed +remark of Belle's, a memory flashed into being above Lola's shield. It +was the veriest flash, instantly suppressed. Her eyes held clear and +steady; if she blushed at all it did not show. + +Belle caught it, of course, and winked triumphantly at Garlock. +She knew, now, what she had wanted to know. And, Prime Operator +though he was, it was all he could do to make no sign; for that +fleetingly-revealed memory was a perfect job. He would not have--_could_ +not have--questioned it himself, except for one highly startling fact. +It was of an event that had not happened and never would! + +And after breakfast, at some distance from the others, "That is my girl, +Brownie! You're firing on all forty barrels. You're an Operator, all +right; and it takes a damn good one to lie like that with her mind!" + +"Thanks to you, Clee. And thanks a million, really. I'm me again--I +think." + +Then, since Belle was looking, she took him by both ears, pulled his +head down, and kissed him lightly on the lips. The spontaneity and +tenderness were perfect at that moment. Clee's appreciation was obvious. + +"I know I said you'd have to kiss me next time," Lola said, very low, +"but this act needs just this much of an extra touch. Anyway, such +little, tiny, sisterly ones as this, and out in public, don't count." + + + + +CHAPTER 3 + + +Lola and Garlock went to town in the same taxi. As they were about to +separate, Garlock said: + +"I don't like those hell-divers, yellow, green, or any other color; and +you, Brownie, are very definitely not expendable. Are you any good at +mind-bombing?" + +"Why, I never heard of such a thing." + +"You isolate a little energy in the Op field, remembering of course, +that you're handling a hundred thousand gunts. Transpose it into +platinum or uranium--anything good and heavy. For one of these monsters +you'd need two or three micrograms. For a battleship, up to maybe a gram +or so. 'Port it to the exact place you want it to detonate. Reconvert +and release instantaneously. One-hundred-percent-conversion atomic bomb, +tailored exactly to fit the job. Very effective." + +"It would be. My God, Clee, can _you_ do _that_?" + +"Sure--so can you. Any Operator can." + +"Well, I _won't_. I _never_ will. Besides, I'd probably kill too many +people, besides the monster. No, I'll 'port back to the Main if anything +attacks me. I'm chain lightning at that." + +"Do that, then. And if anything very unusual happens give me a flash." + +"I'll do that. 'Bye, Clee." She turned to the left. He walked straight +on, toward the business center, to resume his study at the point where +he had left off the evening before. + +For over an hour he wandered aimlessly about the city; receiving, +classifying, and filing away information. He saw several duels between +guardians and yellow and green-bat monsters, to none of which he paid +any more attention than did the people around him. Then a third kind of +enemy appeared--two of them at once, flying wing-and-wing--and Garlock +stopped and watched. + +Vivid, clear-cut stripes of red and black, even on the tremendously +long, strong wings. Distinctly feline as to heads, teeth, and claws. +While they did not at all closely resemble flying saber-toothed tigers, +that was the first impression that leaped into Garlock's mind. + +Two bow-legged guardians came leaping as usual, but one of them was a +fraction of a second too late. That fraction was enough. While the first +guardian was still high in air, grappling with one tiger, the other +swung on a dime--the blast of air from his right wing blowing people in +the crowd below thither and yon and knocking four of them flat--and took +the guardian's head off his body with one savage swipe of a +frightfully-armed paw. Disregarding the carcass both attackers whirled +sharply at the second guardian, meeting him in such fashion that he +could not come to firm grips with either of them, and that battle was +very brief indeed. More and more guardians were leaping in from all +directions, however, and the two tigers were forced to the ground and +slaughtered. + +Since six guardians had been killed, eight guardians marched up the +street, dragging grisly loads. Eight bodies, friend and foe alike, were +dumped into a manhole; eight creatures squatted down and cleaned +themselves meticulously before resuming their various patrols. + + * * * + +Ten or fifteen minutes later, Garlock felt Lola's half-excited, +half-frightened thought. "Clee, do you read me?" + +"Loud and clear." + +"There's something coming that's certainly none of my business--maybe +not even yours." + +"Coming," and with the thought he was there. "Where?" + +She pointed a thought, he followed it. Far away yet, but coming fast, +was an immense flock of flying tigers! + +Lola licked her lips. "I'm going home, if you don't mind." + +"Beat it." + +She disappeared. + +"Jim!" Garlock thought. "Where are you?" + +"Observatory. Need me?" + +"Yes. Bombing. Two point four microgram loads. Focus spot on my +right--teleport in." + +"Coming in on your right." + +"And I on your left!" Belle's thought drove in as he had never before +felt it driven. Being a Prime, she did not need a focus spot and +appeared the veriest instant later than did James. + +"Can you bomb?" Garlock snapped. + +"What do _you_ think?" she snapped back. + +A moment of flashing thought and the three Tellurians disappeared, +materializing five hundred feet in air, two hundred feet ahead of the +van of that horrible flight of monsters, drifting before it. + +Belle got in the first shot. Not only did the victim disappear--a couple +of dozen around it were torn to fragments and the force of the blast +staggered all three Tellurians. + +"Damn it, Belle, cut down or get to hell out!" Garlock yelped. "I said +two point four _micrograms_, not milligrams. Just kill 'em, don't +scatter 'em all over hell's half acre--less mess to clean up and I +_don't_ want you to kill people down below. Especially I don't want you +to kill us--not even yourself." + +"'Scuse, please, I guess I was a bit enthusiastic in my weighing." + +There began a series of muffled explosions along the front; each +followed by the plunge of a tiger-striped body to the ground. Faster and +faster the explosions came as the Operator and the Primes learned the +routine and the rhythm of the job. + +Nor were they long alone. The roaring, screaming howl of jets came up +from behind them; four Arpalones appeared at their left, strung out +along the front. Each held an extraordinarily heavy-duty blaster in each +of his four hands; sixteen terrific weapons were hurling death into the +flying horde. + +"Slide over, Terrestrials," came a calm thought. "You three take their +left front, we'll take their right and center." + +As they obeyed the instructions, "_They_ don't give a damn where the +pieces fly!" Belle protested. "Why should we be fussy about their +street-cleaning department? _I'm_ starting to use fives." + +"Okay. We'll have to hit 'em harder, anyway, to keep up. Five or maybe +six--just be damn sure not to knock us or the Arpalones out of the air." + +Carnage went on. The battle-front, while inside the city limits, was now +almost stationary. + +"Ha! Help--I hear footsteps approaching on jet-back," Garlock announced. +"Give 'em hell, boys--shovel on the coal!" + + * * * + +A flight of fighter-planes, eight abreast and wing-tips almost touching, +howled close overhead and along the line of invasion. They could not +fire, of course, until they reached the city limits. There they opened +up as one, and the air below became literally filled with falling +monsters. Some had only broken wings; some were dead, but more or less +whole; many were blown to unrecognizable bits and scraps of flesh. + +Another flight screamed into place immediately behind the first; then +another and another and another until six flights had passed. Then came +four helicopters, darting and hovering, whose gunners picked off +individually whatever survivors had managed to escape all six waves of +fighters. + +"That's better," came a thought from the Arpalone nearest Garlock. +"Situation under control, thanks to you Tellurians. Supposed to be two +squads of us gunners, but the other squad was busy on another job. +Without you, this could have developed into a fairly nasty little +infection. I don't know what you're doing or how you're doing it--we +were told that you weren't like any other humans, and how true _that_ +is--but I'm in favor of it. I thought there were four of you?" + +"One of us is not a fighter." + +"Oh. You can knock off now, if you like. We'll polish off. Thanks much." + +"But don't the boys on the ground need some help?" + +"The Arpales? Those idiots you have been thinking of as 'guardians'? +Which they are, of course. Uh-uh. Besides, we're air-fighters. Ground +work is none of our business. Also, these guns would raise altogether +too much hell down there. Bound to hit some humans." + +"Check. Those Arpales aren't very intelligent, you Arpalones are +extremely so. Any connection?" + +"'Way back, they say. Common ancestry, and doing two parts of the same +job. Killing these fumapties and lemarts and sencors and what-have-you. +I don't know what humanity's job is and don't give a damn. Probably +fairly important, some way or other, though, since it's our job to see +that the silly, gutless things keep on living. We have nothing to do +with 'em, ever. The only reason I'm talking to you is you're not really +human at all. You're a fighter, too, and a damn good one." + +"I know what you mean," and the three Tellurians turned their attention +downward to the scene on the ground. + + * * * + +The heaviest fighting had been over a large park at the city's edge, +which was now literally a shambles. Very few people were to be seen, and +those few more moving unconcernedly away from the center of violence. +All over the park thousands of Arpales were fighting furiously and +hundreds of them were dying. For hundreds of the sencors had suffered +only wing injuries, the long fall to ground had not harmed them further, +and their tremendous fighting ability had been lessened very little if +at all. + +"But I'd think, just for efficiency if nothing else," Garlock argued, +"you'd support the Arpales _some_ way. Lighter guns or something. Why, +thousands of them must have been killed, just in this last hour or so." + +"Yeah, but that's their business. They breed fast and die fast. +Everything has to balance, you know." + +"Perhaps so." Garlock was silenced, if not convinced. "Well, it's about +over. What happens to the bodies they're dumping down manholes? They +can't go down a sewer that way?" + +"Oh, you didn't know? Food." + +"Food? For what?" + +"The Arpales and us, of course." + +"What? You don't mean--you _can't_ mean that they--and by your thought, +you Arpalones, too--are cannibals!" + +"Cannibals? Explain, please? Oh, eaters-of-our-own-species. Of +course--certainly. Why not?" + +"Why, self-respect ... common decency ... respect for one's fellow-man +... family ties...." Garlock was floundering; to be called upon to +explain his ingrained antipathy to such a custom was new to his +experience. + +"You are silly. Worse, squeamish. Worst, supremely illogical." The +Arpalone paused, then went on as though trying to educate a hopelessly +illogical inferior, "While we do not kill Arpales purposely--except when +they over-breed--why waste good meat as fertilizer? If a diet is +wholesome, nutritious, well-balanced, and tasty, what shred of +difference can it _possibly_ make what its ingredients once were?" + +"Well, I'll be damned." Garlock quit. + +Belle agreed. "This whole deal makes me sick at the stomach and I think +my face is turning green too. But I'm devilishly and gleefully glad, +Clee, that I was here to hear _somebody_ give you cards, spaces, and big +casino and still beat the lights and liver out of you at your own game +of cold-blooded logic!" + +"We gunners must go now. Would you like to come along with us and see +the end of this particular breeding-hole of sencors?" + +At high speed the seven flew back along the line of advance of the +flying-tiger horde; across a barren valley, toward and to the side of a +mountain. + + * * * + +An area almost a mile square of that mountain's side was a burned, +blasted, churned, pocked, cratered and flaming waste; and the four +helicopters were still working on it. High-energy beams blasted, fairly +volatilizing the ground as they struck in as deep as they could be +driven. High-explosive shells bored deep and detonated, hurling +shattered rock and soil and yellow smoke far and wide; establishing new +craters by destroying the ones existing a moment before. + +While it seemed incredible that any living thing larger than a microbe +could emerge under its own power from such a hell of energy, many flying +tigers did; apparently being blown aloft along with the hitherto +undisturbed volume of soil in which the creatures had been. Most of them +were not fully grown; some were so immature as to be unrecognizable to +an untrained eye; but from all four helicopters hand-guns snapped and +cracked. Nothing--but _nothing_--was leaving that field of carnage +alive. + +"What are you gunners supposed to be doing here?" Garlock asked. + +"Oh, the 'copters will be leaving pretty soon--they've got other places +to go. But they won't get them all--some of the hatches are too deep--so +us four gunners will stick around for two-three days to kill the +late-hatchers as they come out." + +"I see," and Garlock probed. "There are four cells they won't reach. +Shall I bomb 'em out?" + +"I'll ask." The slitted red eyes widened and he sent a call. "Commander +Knahr, can you hop over here a minute? I want you to meet these things +we've been hearing about. They look human, but they really aren't. +They're killers, with more stuff and more brains than any of us ever +heard of." + +Another Arpalone appeared, indistinguishable to Tellurian eyes from any +one of the others. + +"But why do you want to mix into something that's none of your +business?" Knahr was neither officious nor condemnatory. He simply could +not understand. + +"Since you have no concept of our quality of curiosity, just call it +education. The question is, do or do you not want those four +deeply-buried cells blasted out of existence?" + +"Of course I do." + +"Okay. You've got all of 'em you're going to get. Tell your 'copters to +give us about five miles clearance, and we'll all fall back, too." + +They drew back, and there were four closely-spaced explosions of such +violence that one raggedly mushroom-shaped cloud went into the +stratosphere and one huge, ragged crater yawned where once churned +ground had been. + +"But that's _atomic_!" Knahr gasped the thought. "Fall-out!" + +"No fall-out. Complete conversion. Have you got a counter?" + +They had. They tested. There was nothing except the usual background +count. + +"There's no life left underground, so you needn't keep this squad of +gunners tied up here," Garlock told the commander. "Before we go, I want +to ask a question. You have visitors once in a while from other solar +systems, so you must have a faster-than-light drive. Can you tell me +anything about it?" + +"No. Nothing like that would be any of my business." Knahr and the four +gunners disappeared; the helicopters began to lumber away. + +"Well, _that_ helps--I don't think," Garlock thought, glumly. "_What_ a +world! Back to the Main?" + + * * * + +In the Main, after a long and fruitless discussion, Garlock called +Governor Atterlin, who did not know anything about a faster-than-light +drive, either. There was one, of course, since it took only a few days +or a few weeks to go from one system to another; but Hodell didn't have +any such ships. No ordinary planet did. They were owned and operated by +people who called themselves "Engineers." He had no idea where the +Engineers came from; they didn't say. + +Garlock then tried to get in touch with the Arpalone Inspector who had +checked the _Pleiades_ in, and could not find out even who it had been. +The Inspector then on duty neither knew or cared anything about either +faster-than-light drives or Engineers. Such things were none of his +business. + +"What difference would it make, anyway?" James asked. "No drive that +takes 'a few weeks' for an intra-galaxy hop is ever going to get us back +to Tellus." + +"True enough; but if there is such a thing I want to know how it works. +How are you coming with your calculations?" + +"I'll finish up tomorrow easily enough." + +Tomorrow came, and James finished up, but he did not find any familiar +pattern of Galactic arrangement. The other three watched James set up +for another try for Earth. + +"You don't think we'll ever get back, do you, Clee?" Belle asked. + +"Right away, no. Some day, yes. I've got the germ of an idea. Maybe +three or four more hops will give me something to work on." + +"I hope so," James said, "because here goes nothing," and he snapped the +red switch. + + * * * + +It was not nothing. Number Two was another guardian Inspector and +another planet very much like Hodell. It proved to be so far from both +Earth and Hodell, however, that no useful similarities were found in any +two of the three sets of charts. + +Number Three was equally unproductive of helpful results. James did, +however, improve his technique of making galactic charts; and he and +Garlock designed and built a high-speed comparator. Thus the time +required per stop was reduced from days to hours. + +Number Four produced a surprise. When Garlock touched the knob of the +testing-box he yanked his hand away before it had really made contact. +It was like touching a high-voltage wire. + +"You are incompatible with our humanity and must not land," the +Inspector ruled. + +"Suppose we blast you and your jets out of the air and land anyway?" +Garlock asked. + +"That is perhaps possible," the Inspector agreed, equably enough. "We +are not invincible. However, it would do you no good. If any one of you +four leaves that so-heavily-insulated vessel in the atmosphere of this +planet you will die. Not quickly, but slowly and with difficulty." + +"But you haven't tested _me_!" Belle said. "Do you mean they'll attack +us on sight?" + +"There is no need to test more than one. Anyone who could live near any +of you could not live on this planet. Nor will they attack you. Don't +you know what the thought 'incompatible' means?" + +"With us it does not mean death." + +"Here it does, since it refers to life forces. The types are mutually, +irreconcilably antagonistic. Your life forces are very strong. Thus, no +matter how peaceable your intentions may be, many of our human beings +would die before you would, but you will not live to get back to your +ship if you land it and leave its protective insulation." + +"Why? What is it? How does it work?" Belle demanded. + +"It is not my business to know; only to tell. I have told. You will go +away now." + +Garlock's eyes narrowed in concentration. "Belle, can you blast? I mean, +could you if you wanted to?" + +"Certainly ... why, I don't _want_ to, Clee!" + +"I don't, either--and I'll file that one away to chew on when I'm hungry +some night, too. Take her up, Jim, and try another shot." + + * * * + +Numbers Five to Nine, inclusive, were neither productive nor eventful. +All were, like the others, Hodell all over again, in everything +fundamental. One was so far advanced that almost all of its humanity +were Seconds; one so backward--or so much younger--that its strongest +telepaths were only Fours. The Tellurians became acquainted with, and +upon occasion fought with, various types of man-sized monsters in +addition to the three varieties they had seen on Hodell. + +Every planet they visited had Arpalones and Arpales. Not by those names, +of course. Local names for planets, guardians, nations, cities, and +persons went into the starship's tapes, but that welter of names need +not be given here; this is not a catalogue. Every planet they visited +was peopled by _Homo Sapiens_; capable of inter-breeding with the +Tellurians and eager to do so--especially with the Tellurian men. Their +strict monogamy was really tested more than once; but it held. Each had +been visited repeatedly by starships; but all Garlock could find out +about them was that they probably came from a world somewhere that was +inhabited by compatible human beings of Grade Two. He could learn +nothing about the faster-than-light drive. + +Number Ten was another queer--the Tellurians were found incompatible. + +"Let's go down anyway." Belle suggested. "Overcome this unwillingness of +ours and find out. What do you think they've got down there, Clee +Garlock, that could possibly handle you and me both?" + +"I don't think it's a case of 'handling' at all. I don't know what it +is, but I believe it's fatal. We won't go down." + +"But it doesn't make sense!" Belle protested. + +"Not yet, no; but it's a datum. Enough data and we'll be able to +formulate a theory." + + * * * + +"You and your theories! I wish we could get some _facts_!" + +"You can call that a fact. But I want you and Jim to do some +math. We know that we're making mighty long jumps. Assuming that they're +at perfect random, and of approximately the same length, the probability +is greater than one-half that we're getting farther and farther away +from Tellus. Is there a jump number, N, at which the probability is +one-half that we land nearer Tellus instead of farther away? My +jump-at-conclusions guess is that there isn't. That the first jump set +up a bias." + +"Ouch. _That_ isn't in any of the books," James said. "In other words, +do we or do we not attain a maximum? You're making some bum assumptions; +among others that space isn't curved and that the dimensions of the +universe are very large compared to the length of our jumps. I'll see if +I can put it into shape to feed to Compy. You've always held that these +generators work at random--the rest of those assumptions are based on +your theory?" + +"Check. I'm not getting anywhere studying my alleged Xenology, so I'm +going to work full time on designing a generator that will steer." + +"You tried to before. So did everybody else." + +"I know it, but I've got a lot more data now. And I'm not promising, +just trying. Okay? Worth a try?" + +"Sure--I'm in favor of anything that has any chance at all of working." + +Jumping went on; and Garlock, instead of going abroad on the planets, +stayed in the _Pleiades_ and worked. + + * * * + +At Number Forty-three, their reception was of a new kind. They were +compatible with the people of this world, but the Inspector advised them +against landing. + +"I do not forbid you," he explained, carefully. "Our humans are about to +destroy themselves with fission and fusion bombs. They send missiles, +without warning, against visitors. Thus, the last starship to visit us +here disregarded my warning and sent down a sensing device as +usual--Engineers do not land on non-telepathic worlds, you know--and it +was destroyed." + +"You're a Guardian of Humanity," Garlock said. "Can't you straighten +people out?" + +"Of course not!" The Arpalone was outraged. "We guard humanity against +incompatibles and non-humans; but it is not our business to interfere +with humanity if it wishes to destroy itself. That is its privilege and +its own business!" + +Garlock probed down. "No telepathy, even--not even a Seven. This planet +_is_ backward--back to Year One. And nothing but firecrackers--we're +going down, aren't we?" + +"I'll say we are!" Belle said. "This will break the monotony, at least," +and the others agreed. + +"You won't object, I take it," Garlock said to the Inspector, "if we try +to straighten them out. We can postpone the blow-up a few years, at +least." + +"No objections, of course. In fact, I can say that we Guardians of +Humanity would approve such action." + +Down the _Pleiades_ went, into the air of the nation known as the +"Allied Republican Democracies of the World," and an atomic-warheaded +rocket came flaming up. + +"Hm ... m ... m. Ingenious little gadget, at that," James reported, +after studying it thoroughly. "Filthy thing for fall-out, though, if it +goes off. Where'll I flip it, Clee? One of their moons?" + +"Check. Third one out--no chance of any contamination from there." + +The missile vanished; and had any astronomer been looking at that +world's third and outermost moon at the moment, he might have seen a +tremendous flash of light, a cloud of dust, and the formation of a new +and different crater among the hundreds already there. + +"No use waiting for 'em, Jim. All three of you toss everything they've +got out onto that same moon, being sure not to hurt anybody--yet. I'll +start asking questions." + +The captain who had fired the first missile appeared in the Main. He +reached for his pistol, to find that he did not have one. He tensed his +muscles to leap at Garlock, to find that he could not move. + +Garlock drove his probe. "Who is your superior officer?" and before the +man could formulate a denial, that superior stood helpless beside him. + + * * * + +Then three--and four. At the fifth: + +"Oh, you are the man I want. Prime Minister--euphemism for +Dictator--Sovig. Missile launching stations and missile storage? You +don't know? Who does?" + +Another man appeared, and for twenty minutes the _Pleiades_ darted about +the continent. + +"Now submarines, atomic and otherwise, and all surface vessels capable +of launching missiles." Another man appeared. + +This job took a little longer, since the crew of each vessel had to be +teleported back to their bases. An immense scrap-pile, probably visible +with a telescope of even moderate power, built up rapidly on the third +moon. + +"Now a complete list of your uranium-refining plants, your military +reactors, heavy-water and heavy-hydrogen plants, and so on." Another man +appeared, but the starship did not move. + +"Here is a list of plants," and Garlock named them, coldly. "You will +remember them. I will return you to your office, and you may--or may +not, as you please--order them evacuated. Look at your watch. We start +destroying them in exactly seventy-two of your hours from this moment. +Any and all persons on the properties will be killed; any within a +radius of ten of your miles may be killed. Our explosives are extremely +powerful, but there is no radioactivity and no danger from the fall-out. +The danger is from flash-blindness, flash-burn, sheer heat, shock-wave, +concussion, and flying debris of all kinds." + +The officer vanished and Garlock turned back to the Prime Minister. + +"You have an ally, a nation known as the 'Brotherhood of People's +Republics.' Where is its capital? Slide us over there, Jim. Now, Prime +Minister Sovig, you and your ally, the second and first most populous +nations of your world, are combining to destroy--a pincers movement, let +us say?--the third largest nation, or rather, group of nations--the +Nations of the North.... Oh, I see. Third only in population, but first +in productive capacity and technology. They should be destroyed because +their ideology does not agree with yours. They are too idealistic to +strike first, so you will. After you strike, they will not be able to. +Whereupon you, personally, will rule the world. I will add to that +something you are not thinking, but should: You will rule it until one +of your friends puts his pistol to the back of your neck and blows your +brains out." + + * * * + +They were now over the ally's capitol; which launched five missiles +instead of one. Garlock collected four more men and studied them. + +"Just as bad--if possible, worse. Who, Lingonor, is the leader of your +opposition, if any?" Another man, very evidently of the same race, +appeared. + +"Idealistic, in a way, but spineless and corrupt," Garlock announced to +all. "His administration was one of the most corrupt ever known on this +world. We'll disarm them, too." + +They did. The operation did not take very long; as this nation--or +group, it was not very clear exactly what it was--while very high in +manpower, was very low in technology. + +The starship moved to a station high above the Capitol Building of the +Nations of the North and moved slowly downward until it hung poised one +scant mile over the building. Missiles, jets, and heavy guns were set +and ready, but no attack was made. Therefore Garlock introduced himself +to various personages and invited them aboard instead of snatching them; +nor did he immobilize them after they had been teleported aboard. + +"The president, the chief of staff, the Chief Justice, the most eminent +scientist, the head of a church, the leaders of the legislative body and +four political bosses, the biggest business man, biggest labor leader, +and biggest gangster. Fourteen men." As Garlock studied them his face +hardened. "I thought to leave your Nations armed, to entrust this +world's future to you, but no. Only two of you are really concerned +about the welfare of your peoples, and one of those two is very weak. +Most of you are of no higher motivation than are the two dictators and +your gangster Clyden. You are much better than those we have already +disarmed, but you are not good enough." + +Garlock's hard eyes swept over the group for two minutes before he went +on: + +"I am opening all of your minds, friend and foe alike, to each other, so +that you may all see for yourselves what depths of rottenness exist +there and just how unfit your world is to associate with the decent +worlds of this or any other galaxy. It would take God Himself to do +anything with such material, and I am not God. Therefore, when we have +rid this world of atomics we will leave and you will start all over +again. If you really try, you can not only kill all animal life on your +planet, but make it absolutely uninhabitable for...." + +"Stop it, Clee!" Lola jumped up, her eyes flashing. Garlock dropped the +tuned group, but Belle took it over. Everyone there understood every +thought. "Don't you _see_, you've done enough? That now you're going too +far? That these twenty-odd men, having had their minds opened and having +been given insight into what is possible, will go forward instead of +backward?" + +"Forward? With such people as the Prime Ministers, the labor and +business leaders, the bosses and the gangsters to cope with? Do you +think they've got spines stiff enough for the job?" + +"I'm sure of it. Our world did it with no better. Millions and millions +of other worlds did it. Why can't this one do it? Of course it can." + +"May I ask a couple of questions?" This thought came from the tall, +trim, soldierly Chief of Staff. + +"Of course, General Cordeen." + +"We have all been taking it for granted that you four belong to some +super-human race; some kind or other of _Homo Superior_. Do I understand +correctly your thought that your race is _Homo Sapiens_, the same as +ours?" + +"Why, of course it is," Lola answered in surprise. "The only difference +is that we are a few thousand years older than you are." + +"You said also that there were 'millions and millions' of worlds that +have solved the problems facing us. Were all these worlds also peopled +by _Homo Sapiens_? It seems incredible." + +"True, nevertheless. On any and every world of this type humanity is +identical physically; and the mental differences are due only to their +being in different stages of development. In fact, every planet we have +visited except this one makes a regular custom of breeding its best +blood with the best blood of other solar systems. And as to the +'millions and millions,' I meant only a very large but indefinite +number. As far as I know, not even a rough estimate has ever been +made--has there, Clee?" + +"No, but it will probably turn out to be millions _of_ millions, instead +of millions _and_ millions; and squared and then cubed at that. My guess +is that it'll take another ten thousand years of preliminary surveying +such as we're doing, by all the crews the various Galaxian Societies can +put out, before even the roughest kind of an estimate can be made as to +how many planets are inhabited by mutually fertile human peoples." + + * * * + +For a moment the group was stunned. Then: + +"Do you mean to say," asked the merchant prince, "that you Galaxians are +not the only ones who have interstellar travel?" + +"Far from it. In fact, yours is the only world we have seen that does +not have it, in one form or another." + +"Oh? More than one way? That makes it still worse. Would you be willing +to sell us plans, or lease us ships...?" + +"So that you could exploit other planets? We will not. You would get +nowhere, even if you had an interstellar drive right now. You, +personally, are a perfect example of what is wrong with this planet. +Rapacious, insatiable; you violate every concept of ethics, common +decency, and social responsibility. Your world's technology is so far +ahead of its sociology that you not only should be, but actually are +being, held in quarantine." + +"_What?_" + +"Exactly. One race I know of has been inspecting you regularly for +several hundreds of your years. They will not make contact with you, or +allow you to leave your own world, until you grow up to something beyond +the irresponsible-baby stage. Thus, about two and one-half of your years +ago, a starship of that race sent down a sensing element--unmanned, of +course--to check your state of development. Brother Sovig volatilized it +with an atomic missile." + +"We did not do it," the dictator declared. "It was the war-mongering +capitalists." + +"You brainless, mindless, contemptible idiot," Garlock sneered. "Are +even you actually stupid enough to try to lie with your mind? To minds +linked to your own and to mine?" + +"We did do it, then, but it was only a flying saucer." + +"Just as this ship was, to you, only a flying saucer, I suppose. So +here's something else for you to think about, Brother Sovig, with +whatever power your alleged brain is able to generate. When you shot +down that sensor, the starship did not retaliate, but went on without +taking any notice of you. When you tried to shoot _us_ down, we took +some slight action, but did not kill anyone and are now discussing the +situation. Listen carefully now, and remember--it is very possible that +the next craft you attack in such utterly idiotic fashion will, without +any more warning than you gave, blow this whole planet into a ball of +incandescent gas." + +"Can that actually be done?" the scientist asked. For the first time, he +became really interested in the proceedings. + +"Very easily, Doctor Cheswick," Garlock replied. "We could do it +ourselves with scarcely any effort and at very small cost. You are +familiar, I suppose, with the phenomenon of ball lightning?" + +"Somewhat. Its mechanism has never been elucidated in any very +satisfactory mathematics." + +"Well, we have at our disposal a field some...." + +"Hold it, Clee," James warned. "Do you want to put out that kind of +stuff around here?" + +"Um ... m ... m. What do you think?" + + * * * + +James studied Cheswick's mind. "Better than I thought," he decided. "He +has made two really worthwhile intuitions--a genius type. He's been +working on what amounts almost to the Coupler Theory for ten years. He's +almost got it, but you know intuitions of that caliber can't be +scheduled. He might get it tomorrow--or never. I'd say push him over the +hump." + +"Okay with me. We'll take a vote--one blackball kills it. Brownie? Just +the link, of course. A few hints, perhaps, at application, but no +technological data." + +"I say give it to him. He's earned it. Besides, he isn't young and may +die before he gets it, and that would lose them two or three hundred +years." + +"Belle?" + +"In favor. Shall I drop the linkage? No," she answered her own question. +"No other minds here will have any idea of what it means, and it may do +some of them a bit of good to see one of their own minds firing on more +than one barrel." + +"Thank you, Galaxians." The scientist's mind had been quivering with +eagerness. "I am inexpressibly glad that you have found me worthy of so +much help." + + * * * + +Garlock entered Cheswick's mind. First he impressed, indelibly, six +symbols and their meanings. Second, a long and intricate equation; which +the scientist studied avidly. + +During the ensuing pause, Garlock cut the President and Chief of Staff +out of the linkage. "We have just given Cheswick a basic formula. In a +couple of hundred years it will give you full telepathy, and then you +will begin really to go up. There's nothing secret about it--in fact, +I'd advise full publication--but even so it might be a smart idea to +give him both protection and good working conditions. Brains like his +are apt to be centuries apart on any world." + +"But this is ... it could be ... it _must_ be!" Cheswick exclaimed. "I +_never_ would have formulated _that_! It isn't quite implicit, of +course, but from this there derives the existence of, and the necessity +for, electrogravitics! An entirely new field of reality and experiment +in science!" + +"There does indeed," Garlock admitted, "and it is far indeed from being +implicit. You leaped a tremendous gap. And yes, the resultant is more +humanistic than technological." + +Belle's ear-splitting whistle resounded throughout the Main. "How do you +like _them_ tid-bits, Clee?" she asked. "Two hundred years in +seventy-eight seconds? You folks will have telepathy by the time your +present crop of babies grows up. Clee, aren't you sorry you got mad and +blew your top and wanted to pick up your marbles and go home? _Three_ +such intuitions in one man's lifetime beats par, even for the genius +course." + +"It sure does," Garlock admitted, ruefully. "I should have studied these +minds--particularly his--before jumping at conclusions." + +"May I say a few words?" the president asked. + +"You may indeed, sir. I was hoping you would." + +"We have been discouraged; faced with an insoluble problem. Sovig and +Lingonor, knowing that their own lives were forfeit anyway, were +perfectly willing to destroy all the life on this world to make us +yield. Now, however, with the insight and the encouragement you +Galaxians have given us, the situation has changed. Reduced to ordinary +high explosives, they cannot conquer us...." + +"Especially without an airforce," Lola put in. "I, personally, will see +to it that every bomber and fighter plane they now have goes to the +third moon. It will be your responsibility to see to it that they do not +rebuild." + +"Thank you, Miss Montandon. We will see to it. As for our internal +difficulties--I think, under certain conditions, they can be handled. +Our lawless element," he glanced at the gangster, "can be made impotent. +The corrupt practices of both capital and labor can be stopped. We have +laws," here he looked at the members of Congress and the judge, "which +can be enforced. The conditions I mentioned would be difficult at the +moment, since so few of us are here and it is manifest that few if any +of our people will believe that such people as you Galaxians really +exist. Would it be possible for you, Miss Montandon, to spend a few +days--or whatever time you can spare--in showing our Congress, and as +many other groups as possible, what humanity may hope to become?" + +"Of course, sir. I was planning on it." + +"I'm afraid that is impossible," the Chief of Staff said. + +"Why, General Cardeen?" Lola asked. + +"Because you'd be shot," Cardeen said, bluntly. "We have a very good +Secret Service, it is true, and we would give you every protection +possible; but such an all-out effort as would be made to assassinate you +would almost certainly succeed." + +"Shot?" Garlock asked in surprise. "What with? You haven't anything that +could even begin to crack an Operator's Shield." + +"With this, sir." Cardeen held out his automatic pistol for inspection. + +"Oh, I hadn't studied it ... a pellet-projector...." + +"_Pellet!_ Do you call a four-seventy-five slug a pellet?" + +"Not much of that, really ... it shoots eight times--shoot all eight of +them at her. None of them will touch her." + +"_What?_ I _will_ not! One of those slugs will go through three women +like her, front to back in line." + +"I will, then." The pistol leaped into Garlock's hand. "Hold up one +hand, Brownie, and catch 'em. Don't let 'em splash--no deformation, so +he can recognize his own pellets." + +Holding the unfamiliar weapon in a clumsy, highly unorthodox +grip--something like a schoolgirl's first attempt--Garlock glanced once +at Lola's upraised palm and eight shots roared out as fast as the gases +of explosion could operate the mechanism. The pistol's barrel remained +rigidly motionless under all the stress of ultra-rapid fire. Lola's +slim, deeply-tanned arm did not even quiver under the impact of that +storm of heavy bullets against her apparently unsupported hand. No one +saw those bullets strike that gently-curved right palm, but everyone saw +them drop into her cupped left hand, like drops of water dripping +rapidly from the end of an icicle into a bowl. + +"Here are your pellets, General Cardeen." Lola handed them to him with a +smile. + +"Holy--Jumping--Snakes!" the general said, and: + +"Wotta torpedo!" came the gangster's envious thought. + +"You see, I am perfectly safe from being 'shot,' as you call it," Lola +said. "So I'll come down and work with you. You might have your news +services put out a bulletin, though. I never have killed anyone, and am +not going to here, but anyone who tries to shoot me or bomb me or +anything will lose both hands at the wrists just before he fires. That +would keep them from killing anyone standing near me, don't you think?" + +"I should _think_ it would," General Cordeen thought, and a pall of awe +covered the linked minds. The implications of the naively frank remark +just uttered by this apparently inoffensive and defenseless young woman +were simply too overwhelming to be discussed. + +"Anything else on the agenda, Clee?" Lola asked. + +There was not, and the starship's guests were returned, each to his own +home place. + +And not one of them, it may be said, was exactly the same as he had +been. + + [Illustration: + + The deepest Gunther block was at last penetrated and + Belle became conscious of a heretofore unknown mental + alignment with the ship.] + + + + +CHAPTER 4 + + +"I think I'll come along with you and bodyguard you, Lola," Belle said, +the following morning after breakfast. "Clee's going to be seven +thousand miles deep in mathematics and Jim's doing his stuff at the +observatory, and I can't help either of 'em at the moment. You'd do a +better job, wouldn't you, if you could concentrate on it?" + +"Of course. Thanks, Belle. But remember, it's already been announced--no +death. Just hands. I can't really believe that I'll be attacked, but +they seem pretty sure of it." + +"I'd like to separate anyone like that from his head instead of his +hands, but as it is published so it will be performed." + +"How about wearing some kind of half-way-comfortable shoes instead of +those slippers?" Garlock asked. "That could turn out to be a long, tough +brawl, and your dogs'll be begging for mercy before you get back here." + +"Uh-uh. Very comfortable and a perfect fit. Besides, if I have to suffer +just a little bit for good appearance's sake in a matter of +intergalactic amity...." + +"A matter of showing off, you mean." + +"Why, Clee!" Belle widened her eyes at him. "How you talk! But they're +ready, Lola--let's go." + +The two girls disappeared from the Main, to appear on the speakers' +stand in front of the Capitol Building. President Benton was there, with +his cabinet and certain other personages. General Cordeen and his staff. +And many others. + +"Oh, Miss Bellamy, too? I'm _very_ glad you are here," Benton said, as +he shook hands cordially with both. + +"Thank you. I came along as bodyguard. May I meet your Secret Service +Chief, please?" + +"Why, of course. Miss Bellamy, may I present Mr. Avengord?" + +"You have the hospital room ready?... Where is it, please?" + +"Back of us, in the wing...." + +"Just think of it, please, and I will follow your thought.... Ah, yes, +there it is. I hope it will not be used. You agree with General Cordeen +that there will be one or more attempts at assassination?" + +"I'm very much afraid so. This town is literally riddled with enemy +agents, and of course we don't know all of them--especially the best +ones. They know that if these meetings go through, they're sunk; so +they're desperate. We've got this whole area covered like dew--we've +arrested sixteen suspects already this morning--but all the advantage is +theirs," Avengord finished glumly. + +"Not all of it, sir," Belle smiled at him cheerfully. "You have me, and +I am a Prime Operator. That is, a wielder of power of no small ability. +Oh, you are right. There is an attempt now being prepared." + + * * * + +While Belle had been greeting and conversing, she had also been +scanning. Her range, her sensitivity, and her power were immensely +greater than Lola's; were probably equal to Garlock's own. She scanned +by miles against the scant yards covered by the Secret Service. + +"Where?" + +"Give me your thought." The Secret Service man did not know what she +meant--telepathy was of course new to him--so she seized his attention +and directed it to a certain window in a building a couple of miles away +on a hill. + +"But they couldn't, from there!" + +"But they can. They have a quite efficient engine of destruction--a +'rifle' is their thought. Large, and long, with a very good telescope on +it--with crosshairs. If I scan their minds more precisely you may know +the weapon.... Ah, they think of it as a 'Buford Mark Forty +Anti-Aircraft Rifle'." + +"A Buford! My God, they can hit any button on her clothes--get her away, +quick!" He tried to jump, but could not move. + +"As you were," she directed. "There was another Buford there, and +another over there." She guided his thought. "Two men to each Buford. +There are now six handless men in your hospital room. If you will send +men to those three places you will find the Bufords and the hands. Your +surgeon will have no difficulty in matching the hands to the men. If any +seek to remove either Bufords or hands before your men get there, I will +de-hand them, also." + + * * * + +To say that the Secret Service man was flabbergasted is to put it very +mildly indeed. Cordeen had told him, with much pounding on his desk and +in searing, air-blueing language, what to expect-or, rather, to expect +_anything_, no matter what and with no limits whatever--but he hadn't +believed it then and simply could not believe it now. Goddamn it, such +things _couldn't_ happen. And this beautiful, beautifully-stacked, +half-naked woman--girl, rather, she couldn't be a day over +twenty-five--even if it had been their black-browed, toplofty leader, +Captain Garlock himself.... + +"I am twenty-three of your years old, not twenty-five," she informed +him, coldly, "and I will permit no distinction of sex. In your primitive +culture the women may still be allowing you men to believe in the +fallacy of the superiority of the male, but know right now that I can do +anything any man ever born can do and do it better." + +"Oh, I'm ... I'm sure ... certainly...." Avengord's thought was +incoherent. + +"If you want me to work with you you had better start believing right +now that there are a lot of things you don't know," Belle went on +relentlessly. "Stop believing that just because a thing has not already +happened on this primitive, backward, mudball planet of yours, it can't +happen anywhere or anywhen. You do believe, however, whether you want to +or not, things you see with your own eyes?" + +"Yes. I can _not_ be hypnotized." + +"I'm very glad you believe that much." Avengord did not notice that she +neither confirmed nor denied the truth of his statement. "To that end +you will go now into the hospital room and see the bandaging going on. +You will see and hear the news broadcast going out as I prepared it." + +He went, and came back a badly shaken man. + +"But they're sending it out exactly as it happened!" he protested. +"They'll all scatter out so fast and so far we'll _never_ catch them!" + +"By no means. You see, the amputees didn't believe that they would lose +their hands. Their superiors didn't believe it, either; they assured +each other and their underlings that it was just capitalistic bluff and +nonsense. And since they are all even more materialistic and hidebound +and unbelieving than you are, they all are now highly confused--at a +complete loss." + +"You can say _that_ again. If I, working with you and having you +pounding it into my head, couldn't more than half believe it...." + +"So they are now very frightened, as well as confused, and the director +of their whole spy system is now violating rule and precedent by sending +out messengers to summon certain high agents to confer with him in his +secret place." + +"If you'll tell me where, I'll get over to my office...." + +"No. We'll both be in your office in plenty of time. We'll watch Lola +get started. It will be highly instructive for you to watch a really +capable Operator at work." + + * * * + +President Benton had been introduced; had in turn finished introducing +Lola. The crowd, many thousands strong, was cheering. Lola was stepping +into the carefully marked speaker's place. + +"You may disconnect these," she waved a hand at the battery of +microphones, "since I do not use speech. Not only do I not know any of +your various languages, but no one language would suffice. My thought +will go to every person on this, your world." + +"World?" the President asked in surprise. "Surely not behind the +Curtains? They will jam you, I'm afraid." + +"My thought, as I shall drive it, will not be stopped," Lola assured +him. "Since this world has no telepathy, it has no mind-blocks and I can +cover the planet as easily as one mind. Nor does it matter whether it be +day or night, or whether anyone is awake or asleep. All will receive my +message. Since you wish a record, the cameras may run, although they are +neither necessary nor desirable for me. Everyone will see me in his +mind, much better than on the surface of any teevee tube." + +"And I was going to have her address _Congress_!" the President +whispered, aside, to General Cordeen. + +Then Lola put her whole fine personality into a smile, directed +apparently not only at each separate individual within sight, but also +individually at every person on the globe; and when Brownie Montandon +set out to make a production of a smile, it had the impact of a +pile-driver. Then came her smooth, gently-flowing, friendly thought: + +"My name, friends of this world Ormolan, is Lola Montandon. Those of you +who are now looking at teevee screens can see my imaged likeness. All of +you can see me very much better within your own minds. + +"I am not here as an invader in any sense, but only as a citizen of the +First Galaxy of this, our common universe. I have attuned my mind to +each of yours in order to give you a message from the United Galaxian +Societies. + +"There are four of us Galaxians in this Exploration Team. As Galaxians +it is our purpose here and our duty here to open your minds to certain +basic truths, to be of help to you in clearing your minds of fallacies, +of lies, and of undefensible prejudices; to the end that you will more +rapidly become Galaxians yourselves...." + +"Okay. This will go on and on. That's enough to give you an idea of what +a trained and polished performer can do. What do you think of _them_ +comfits, Chief?" Belle deliberately knocked the Secret Service man out +of his Lola-induced mood. + +"Huh? Oh, yes." Avengord was still groggy. "She's phenomenal--good--I +don't mean goody-goody, but sincere and really...." + +"Yeah, but don't fall in love with her. Everybody does and it doesn't do +any of them a bit of good. That's her specialty and she's _very_ good at +it. I told you she's a smooth, smooth worker." + +"You can say _that_ again." Avengord did not know that he was repeating +himself. "But it isn't an act. She means it and it's true." + +"Of course she means it and of course it's true. Otherwise even she, +with all her training, couldn't sell such a big bill of goods." Then, in +answer to the man's unspoken question, "Yes, we're all different. She's +the contactor, the spreader of the good old oil, the shining example of +purity and sweetness and light--in short, the Greaser of the Ways. I'm a +fighter, myself. Do you think she could actually have de-handed those +men? Uh-uh. At the last minute she would have weakened and brought them +in whole. My job in this operation is to knock hell out of the ones Lola +can't convince, such as those spies you and I are going to interview +pretty quick." + +"Even they ought to be convinced. I don't see how anybody could help but +be." + +"Uh-uh. It'll bounce off like hailstones off of a tin roof. The only +thing to do to that kind of scum is kill them. If you'll give me a +thought as to where your office is we'll hop over and...." + + * * * + +Belle and Avengord disappeared from the stand; and, such was Lola's +hold, no one on the platform or in the throng even noticed that they +were gone. They materialized in Avengord's private office; he sitting as +usual at his desk, she reclining in legs-crossed ease in a big leather +chair. + +"... get to work." Belle's thought had not been interrupted by any +passage of time whatever. "What do you want to do first?" + +"But I thought you were covering Miss Montandon?" + +"I am. Like a blanket. Just as well here as anywhere. I will be, until +she gets back to the _Pleiades_. What first?" + +"Oh. Well, since I don't know what your limits are--if you have any--you +might as well do whatever you think best and I'll watch you do it." + +"That's the way to talk. You're going to get a shock when you see who +the Head Man is. George T. Basil." + +"_Basil_! I'll say it's a shock!" Avengord steadied, frowned in +concentration. "Could be, though. _He_ would _never_ be suspected--but +they're very good at that." + +"Yeah. His name used to be Baslovkowitz. He was trained for years, then +planted. None of this can be proved, as his record is perfect. Born +citizen, highest standing in business and social circles. Unlimited +entry and top security clearance. Right?" + +"Right ... and getting enough evidence, in such cases as that, is pure, +unadulterated hell." + +"I suppose I could kill him, after we've recorded everything he knows," +Belle suggested. + +"No!" He snapped. "Too many people think of us as a strong-arm squad +now. Anyway, I'd rather kill him myself than wish the job off onto--you +don't _like_ killing, do you?" + +"That's the understatement of the century. No civilized person does. In +a hot fight, yes; but killing anyone who is helpless to fight back--in +cold blood--ugh! It makes me sick in my stomach even to think of it." + +"With the way you can read minds, we can get evidence enough to send +them all to jail, and that we'll have to do." + +"How about this?" Belle grinned as another solution came to mind. "From +those first eight top men, we'll find out a lot of others lower down, +and so on, until we have 'em all locked up here. We'll announce that +exactly so many spies and agents--giving names, addresses, and facts, of +course--got panicky after Lola's address. They fired up their hidden +planes and flew back behind the Curtain. Then, when we've scanned their +minds and recorded everything you want, I'll pack them all, very snugly +and carefully, into Sovig's private office. With the world situation +what it then will be, he won't dare kill them--he simply won't know what +to do when faced with it." + + * * * + +Avengord agreed happily. He reached out and flipped the switch of his +intercom. "Miss Kimling, come in, please." + +The door burst open. "Why, it _is_ you! But you were on the rostrum just +a minute.... Oh!" She saw Belle, and backed, eyes wide, toward the door +she had just entered. "_She_ was there, too, and it's fifteen +_miles_...." + +"Steady, Fram. I'd like to present you to Prime Operator Belle Bellamy, +who is cleaning out the entire Curtain organization for us." + +"But how did you...." + +"Never mind that. Teleportation. It took her half an hour to pound it +into me, and we can't take time to explain anything now. I'll tell +everybody everything I know as soon as I can. In the meantime, don't be +surprised at anything that happens, and by that I mean _anything_. Such +as solid people appearing on this carpet--on that spot right +there--instantaneously. I want you to pay close attention to everything +your mind receives, put your phenomenal memory into high gear, listen to +everything I record, stop me any time I'm wrong, and be _sure_ I get +everything we need." + +"I don't know exactly what you're talking about, sir, but I'll try." + +"Frankly, I don't, either--we'll just have to roll it as we go along. +We're ready for George T. Basil now, Miss Bellamy--I hope. Don't jump, +Fram." + + * * * + +Basil appeared and Fram jumped. She did not scream, however, and did not +run out of the office. The master spy was a big, self-assured, affluent +type. He had not the slightest idea of how he had been spirited out of +his ultra-secret sub-basement and into this room; but he knew where he +was and, after one glance at Belle, he knew why. He decided instantly +what to do about it. + +"This is an outrage!" he bellowed, hammering with his fist on Avengord's +desk. "A stupid, high-handed violation of the rights...." + +Belle silenced him and straightened him up. + +"High-handed? Yes," she admitted quite seriously. "However, from the +Galaxian standpoint, you have no rights at all and you are going to be +extremely surprised at just how high-handed I am going to be. I am going +to read your mind to its very bottom--layer by layer, like peeling an +onion--and everything you know and everything you think is going down in +Mr. Avengord's Big Black Book." + +Belle linked all four minds together and directed the search, making +sure that no item, however small, was missed. Avengord recorded every +pertinent item. Fram Kimling memorized and correlated and +double-checked. + +Soon it was done, and Basil, shouting even louder about this last and +worst violation of his rights--those of his own private mind--was led +away by two men and "put away where he would keep." + +"But this _is_ a flagrant violation of law...." Miss Kimling began. + +"You can say _that_ again!" her boss gloated. "And if you only knew how +tickled I am to do it, after the way they've been kicking _me_ around! + +"But I wonder ... are you sure we can get away with it?" + +"Certainly," Belle put in. "We Galaxians are doing it, not your +government or your Secret Service. We'll start you clean--but it'll be +up to you to keep it clean, and that will be no easy job." + +"No, it won't; but we'll do it. Come around again, say in five or six +years, and see." + +"You know, I might take you up on that? Maybe not this same team, but +I've got a notion to tape a recommendation for a re-visit, just to see +how you get along. It'd be interesting." + +"I wish you would. It might help, too, if everybody thought you'd come +back to check. Suppose you could?" + +"I've no idea, really. I'd like to, though, and I'll see what I can do. +But let's get on with the job. They're all in what you call the 'tank' +now. Which one do you want next?" + +The work went on. That evening there was of course a reception; and then +a ball. And Belle's feet did hurt when she got back to the _Pleiades_, +but of course she would not admit the fact--most especially not to +Garlock. + +Exactly at the expiration of the stipulated seventy-two hours, the +Galaxians began to destroy military atomic plants; and, shortly +thereafter, the starship's crew was again ready to go. + +And James rammed home the red button that would send them--all four +wondered--_where_? + +It turned out to be another Hodell-type world; and, even with the +high-speed comparator, it took longer to check the charts than it did to +make them. + + * * * + +The next planet was similar. So was the next, and the next. The time +required for checking grew longer and longer. + +"How about cutting out this checking entirely, Clee?" James asked then. +"What good does it do? Even if we find a similarity, what could we do +about it? We've got enough stuff now to keep a crew of astronomers busy +for five years making a tank of it." + +"Okay. We probably are so far away now, anyway, that the chance of +finding a similarity is vanishingly small. Keep on taking the shots, +though; they'll prove, I think, that the universe is one whole hell of a +lot bigger than anybody has ever thought it was. That reminds me--are +you getting anywhere on that N-problem? I'm not." + +"I'm getting nowhere, fast. You should have been a math prof in a grad +school, Clee. You could flunk every advanced student you had with that +one. Belle and I together can't feed it to Compy in such shape as to get +a definite answer. We think, though, that your guess was right--if we +ever stabilize anywhere it will probably be relative to Hodell, not to +Tellus. But the cold fact of how far away we must be by this time just +scares the pants off of me." + +"You and me both, my ripe and old. We're a _long_ ways from home." + + * * * + +Jumping went on; and, two or three planets later, they encountered an +Arpalone Inspector who did not test them for compatibility with the +humanity of his world. + +"Do not land," the creature said, mournfully. "This world is dying, and +if you leave the protection of your ship, you too will die." + +"But _worlds_ don't die, surely?" Garlock protested. "People, yes--but +worlds?" + +"Worlds die. It is the Dilipic. The humans die, too, of course, but it +is the world itself that is attacked, not the people. Some of them, in +fact, will live through it." + +Garlock drove his attention downward and scanned. + +"You Arpalones are doing what looks like a mighty good job of fighting. +Can't you win?" + +"No, it is too late. It was already too late when they first appeared, +two days ago. When the Dilipics strike in such small force that none of +their--agents?--devices?--whatever they are?--can land against our +beaming, a world can be saved; but such cases are very few." + +"But this thought, 'Dilipic'?" Garlock asked, impatiently. "It is merely +a symbol--it doesn't _mean_ anything--to me, at least. What are they? +Where do they come from?" + +"No one knows anything about them," came the surprising answer. "Not +even their physical shape--if they have any. Nor where they come from, +or how they do what they do." + +"They can't be very common," Garlock pondered. "We have never heard of +them before." + +"Fortunately, they are not," the Inspector agreed. "Scarcely one world +in five hundred is ever attacked by them--this is the first Dilipic +invasion I have seen." + +"Oh, you Arpalones don't die with your worlds, then?" Lola asked. She +was badly shaken. "But I suppose the Arpales do, of course." + +"Practically all of the Arpales will die, of course. Most of us +Arpalones will also die, in the battles now going on. Those of us who +survive, however, will stay aloft until the rehabilitation fleet +arrives, then we will continue our regular work." + +"Rehab?" Belle exclaimed. "You mean you can _restore_ planets so badly +ruined that all the people die?" + +"Oh, yes. It is a long and difficult work, but the planet is always +re-peopled." + +"Let's go down," Garlock said. "I want to get all of this on tape." + +They went down, over what had been one of that world's largest cities. +The air, the stratosphere, and all nearby space were full of battling +vessels of all shapes and sizes; ranging from the tremendous globular +spaceships of the invaders down to the tiny, one-man jet-fighters of the +Arpalones. + + * * * + +The Dilipics were using projectile weapons only--ranging in size, +with the size of the vessels, from heavy machine guns up to +seventy-five-millimeter quick-firing rifles. They were also launching +thousands of guided missiles of fantastic speed and of tremendous +explosive power. + +The Arpalones were not using anything solid at all. Each defending +vessel, depending upon its type and class, carried from four up to a +hundred or so burnished-metal reflectors some four feet in diameter; +each with a small black device at its optical center and each pouring +out a tight beam of highly effective energy. It was at these reflectors, +and particularly at these tiny devices, that the small-arms fire was +directed, and the marksmanship of the Dilipics was very good indeed. +However, each projector was oscillating irregularly and each +fighter-plane was taking evasive action; and, since a few bullet-holes +in any reflector did not reduce its efficiency very much, and since the +central mechanisms were so small and were moving so erratically, a good +three-quarters of the Arpalonian beams were still in action. + + * * * + +There was no doubt at all that those beams were highly effective. +Invisible for the most part, whenever one struck a Dilipic ship or plane +everything in its path flared almost instantly into vapor and the beam +glared incandescently, blindingly white or violet or high blue--never +anything lower than blue. Almost everything material, that is; for guns, +ammunition, and missiles were not affected. They did not even explode. +When whatever fabric it was that supported them was blasted away, all +such things simply dropped; simply fell through thousands or hundreds of +thousands of feet of air to crash unheeded upon whatever happened to be +below. + +The invading task force was arranged in a whirling, swirling, almost +cylindrical cone, more or less like an Earthly tornado. The largest +vessels were high above the stratosphere; the smallest fighters were +hedge-hoppingly close to ground. Each Dilipic unit seemed madly, +suicidally determined that nothing would get through that furious wall +to interfere with whatever it was that was coming down from space to the +ground through--along?--the relatively quiet "eye" of the +pseudo-hurricane. + +On the other hand, the Arpalones were madly, suicidally determined to +break through that vortex wall, to get into the "eye," to wreak all +possible damage there. Group after group after group of five +jet-fighters each came driving in; and, occasionally, the combined +blasts of all five made enough of opening in the wall so that the center +fighter could get through. Once inside, each pilot stood his little, +stubby-winged craft squarely on her tail, opened his projectors to +absolute maximum of power and of spread, and climbed straight up the +spout until he was shot down. + +And the Arpalones were winning the battle. Larger and larger gaps were +being opened in the vortex wall; gaps which it became increasingly +difficult for the Dilipics to fill. More and more Arpalone fighters were +getting inside. They were lasting longer and doing more damage all the +time. The tube was growing narrower and narrower. + +All four Galaxians perceived all this in seconds. Garlock weighed out +and detonated a terrific matter-conversion bomb in the exact center of +one of the largest vessels of the attacking fleet. It had no effect. +Then a larger one. Then another, still heavier. Finally, at over a +hundred megatons equivalent, he did get results--of a sort. The +invaders' guns, ammunition, and missiles were blown out of the ship and +scattered outward for miles in all directions; but the structure of the +Dilipic ship itself was not harmed. + +Belle had been studying, analyzing, probing the things that were coming +down through that hellish tube. + +"Clee!" She drove a thought. "Cut out the monkey-business with those +damn firecrackers of yours and look here--pure, solid force, like ball +lightning or our Op field, but entirely different--see if you can +analyze the stuff!" + +"Alive?" Garlock asked, as he drove a probe into one of the things--they +were furiously-radiating spheres some seven feet in diameter--and began +to tune to it. + +"I don't know--don't think so--if they are, they're a form of life that +no sane human being could even imagine!" + +"Let's see what they actually do," Garlock suggested, still trying to +tune in with the thing, whatever it was, and still following it down. + +This particular force-ball happened to hit the top of a six-story +building. It was not going very fast--fifteen or twenty miles an +hour--but when it struck the roof it did not even slow down. Without any +effort at all, apparently, it continued downward through the concrete +and steel and glass of the building; and everything in its path became +monstrously, sickeningly, revoltingly changed. + +"I simply can't stand any more of this," Lola gasped. "If you don't +mind, I'm going to my room, set all the Gunther blocks it has, and bury +my head under a pillow." + +"Go ahead, Brownie," James said. "This is too tough for _anybody_ to +watch. I'd do the same, except I've got to run these cameras." + +Lola disappeared. + + * * * + +Garlock and Belle kept on studying. Neither had paid any attention at +all to either Lola or James. + +Instead of the structural material it had once been, the bore that the +thing had traversed was now full of a sparkling, bubbling, writhing, +partly-fluid-partly-viscous, obscenely repulsive mass of something +unknown and unknowable on Earth; a something which, Garlock now +recalled, had been thought of by the Arpalone Inspector as "golop." + +As that unstoppable globe descended through office after office, it +neither sought out people nor avoided them. Walls, doors, windows, +ceilings, floors and rugs, office furniture and office personnel; all +alike were absorbed into and made a part of that indescribably horrid +brew. + +Nor did the track of that hellishly wanton globe remain a bore. Instead, +it spread. That devil's brew ate into and dissolved everything it +touched like a stream of boiling water being poured into a +loosely-heaped pile of granulated sugar. By the time the ravening sphere +had reached the second floor, the entire roof of the building was gone +and the writhing, racing flood of corruption had flowed down the outer +walls and across the street, engulfing and transforming sidewalks, +people, pavement, poles, wires, automobiles, people-anything and +everything it touched. + + * * * + +The globe went on down, through basement and sub-basement, until it +reached solid, natural ground. Then, with its top a few inches below the +level of natural ground, it came to a full stop and--apparently--did +nothing at all. By this time, the ravening flood outside had eaten far +into the lower floors of the buildings across the street, as well as +along all four sides of the block, and tremendous masses of masonry and +steel, their supporting structures devoured, were subsiding, crumbling, +and crashing down into the noisome flood of golop--and were being +transformed almost as fast as they could fall. + +One tremendous mass, weighing hundreds or perhaps thousands of tons, +toppled almost as a whole; splashing the stuff in all directions for +hundreds of yards. Wherever each splash struck, however, a new center of +attack came into being, and the peculiarly disgusting, abhorrent +liquidation went on. + +"Can you do anything with it, Clee?" Belle demanded. + +"Not too much--it's a mess," Garlock replied. "Besides, it wouldn't get +us far, I don't think. It'll be more productive to analyze the beams the +Arpalones are using to break them up, don't you think?" + +Then, for twenty solid minutes, the two Prime Operators worked on those +enigmatic beams. + +"We can't assemble _that_ kind of stuff with our minds," Belle decided +then. + +"I'll say we can't," Garlock agreed. "Ten megacycles, and cycling only +twenty per second." He whistled raucously through his teeth. "My guess +is it'd take four months to design and build a generator to put out that +kind of stuff. It's worse than our Op field." + +"I'm not sure I could _ever_ design one," Belle said, thoughtfully, "but +of course I'm not the engineer you are...." Then, she could not help +adding, "... yet." + +"No, and you never will be," he said, flatly. + +"No? That's what _you_ think!" Even in such circumstances as those, +Belle Bellamy was eager to carry on her warfare with her Project Chief. + +"That's _exactly_ what I think--and I'm so close to knowing it for a +fact that the difference is indetectible." + +Belle almost--but not quite--blew up. "Well, what _are_ you going to +do?" + +"Unless and until I can figure out something effective to do, I'm not +going to try to do anything. If you, with your vaunted and flaunted +belief in the inherent superiority of the female over the male, can dope +out something useful before I do, I'll eat crow and help you do it. As +for arguing with you, I'm all done for the moment." + +Belle gritted her teeth, flounced away, and plumped herself down into a +chair. She shut her eyes and put every iota of her mind to work on the +problem of finding something--_anything_--that could be done to help +this doomed world and to show that big, overbearing jerk of a Garlock +that she was a better man than he was. Which of the two objectives +loomed more important, she herself could not have told, to save her +life. + +And Garlock looked around. The air and the sky over the now-vanished +city were both clear of Dilipic craft. The surviving Arpalone fighters +and other small craft were making no attempt to land, anywhere on the +world's surface. Instead, they were flying upward toward, and were being +drawn one by one into the bowels of, huge Arpalonian space-freighters. +When each such vessel was filled to capacity, it flew upward and set +itself into a more-or-less-circular orbit around the planet. + +Around and around and around the ruined world the _Pleiades_ went; +recording, observing, charting. Fifty-eight of those atrocious Dilipic +vortices had been driven to ground. Every large land-mass surrounded by +large bodies of water had been struck once, and only once; from the +tremendous area of the largest continent down to the relatively tiny +expanses of the largest islands. One land-mass, one vortex. One only. + +"What d'you suppose _that_ means?" James asked. "Afraid of water?" + +"Damfino. Could be. Let's check ... mountains, too. Skip us back to +where we started--oceans and mountains both fairly close there." + +The city had disappeared long since; for hundreds of almost-level square +miles there extended a sparkling, seething, writhing expanse of--of +what? The edge of that devouring flood had almost reached the +foot-hills, and over that gnawing, dissolving edge the _Pleiades_ +paused. + + * * * + +Small lakes and ordinary rivers bothered the golop very little if at +all. There was perhaps a slightly increased sparkling, a slight +stiffening, a little darkening, some freezing and breaking off of solid +blocks; but the thing's forward motion was not noticeably slowed down. +It drank a fairly large river and a lake one mile wide by ten miles long +while the two men watched. + +The golop made no attempt to climb either foot-hills or mountains. It +leveled them. It ate into their bases at its own level; the undermined +masses, small and large, collapsed into the foul, corrosive semi-liquid +and were consumed. Nor was there much raising of the golop's level, even +when the highest mountains were reached and miles-high masses of solid +rock broke off and toppled. There was some raising, of course; but the +stuff was fluid enough so that its slope was not apparent to the eye. + + * * * + +Then the _Pleiades_ went back, over the place where the city had been +and on to what had once been an ocean beach. The original wave of +degradation had reached that shore long since, had attacked its sands +out into deep water, and there it had been stopped. The corrupt flood +was now being reinforced, however, by an ever-rising tide of material +that had once been mountains. And the slope, which had not been even +noticeable at the mountains or over the plain, was here very evident. + +As the rapidly-flowing golop struck water, the water shivered, came to a +weirdly unforgettable cold boil, and exploded into drops and streamers +and jagged-edged chunks of something that was neither water nor land; or +rock or soil or sand or Satan's unholy brew. Nevertheless, the water +won. There was _so_ much of it! Each barrel of water that was destroyed +was replaced instantly and enthusiastically; with no lowering of level +or of pressure. + +And when water struck the golop, the golop also shivered violently, then +sparkled even more violently, then stopped sparkling and turned dark, +then froze solid. The frozen surface, however, was neither thick enough +nor strong enough to form an effective wall. + +Again and again the wave of golop built up high enough to crack and to +shatter that feeble wall; again and again golop and water met in +ultimately furious, if insensate, battle. Inch by inch the ocean's +shoreline was driven backward toward ocean's depths; but every inch the +ocean lost was to its tactical advantage, since the advancing front was +by now practically filled with hard, solid, dead blocks of its own +substance which it could neither assimilate nor remove from the scene of +conflict. + +Hence the wall grew ever thicker and solider; the advance became slower +and slower. + +Then, finally, ocean waves of ever-increasing height and violence rolled +in against the new-formed shore. What caused those tremendous +waves--earthquakes, perhaps, due to the shifting of the mountains' +masses?--no Tellurian ever surely knew. Whatever the cause, however, +those waves operated to pin the golop down. Whenever and wherever one of +those monstrous waves whitecapped in, hurling hundreds of thousands of +tons of water inland for hundreds of yards, the battle-front stabilized +then and there. + +All over that world the story was the same. Wherever there was water +enough, the water won. And the total quantity of water in that world's +oceans remained practically unchanged. + +"Good. A lot of people escaped," James said, expelling a long-held +breath. "Everybody who lives on or could be flown to all the islands +smaller than the biggest ones ... if they can find enough to eat and if +the air isn't poisoned." + +"Air's okay--so's the water--and they'll get food," Garlock said. "The +Arpalones will handle things, including distribution. What I'm thinking +about is how they're going to rehabilitate it. That, as an engineering +project, is a feat to end all feats." + +"_Brother!_ You can play _that_ in spades!" James agreed. "Except that +it'll take too many months before they can even start the job, I'd like +to stick around and see how they go about it. How does this kind of +stuff fit into that theory you're not admitting is a theory?" + +"Not worth a damn. However, it's a datum--and, as I've said before and +may say again, if we can get _enough_ data we can build a theory out of +it." + +Then it began to rain. For many minutes the clouds had been piling +up--black, far-flung, thick and high. Immense bolts of lightning flashed +and snapped and crackled; thunder crashed and rolled and rumbled; rain +fell, and continued to fall, like a cloud-burst in Colorado. And shortly +thereafter--first by square feet and then by acres and then by square +miles--the surface of the golop began to die. To die, that is, if it had +ever been even partially alive. At least it stopped sparkling, darkened, +and froze into thick skins; which broke up into blocks; which in turn +sank--thus exposing an ever-renewed surface to the driving, pelting, +relentlessly cascading rain. + +"Well, I don't know that there's anything to hold us here any longer," +Garlock said, finally. "Shall we go?" + +They went; but it was several days before any of the wanderers really +felt like smiling; and Lola did not recover from her depression for over +a week. + + + + +CHAPTER 5 + + +Supper was over, but the four were still at the table, sipping coffee +and smoking. During a pause in the casual conversation, James suddenly +straightened up. + +"I want an official decision, Clee," he said, abruptly. "While we're out +of touch with United Worlds you, as captain of the ship and director of +the project, are Boss, with a capital B. The Lord of Justice, High and +Low. The Works. Check?" + +"On paper, yes; with my decisions subject to appeal and/or review when +we get back to Base. In practice, I didn't expect to have to make any +very gravid rulings." + +"I never thought you'd have to, either, but Belle fed me one with a bone +in it, so...." + +"Just a minute. How official do you want it? Full formal, screens down +and recorded?" + +"Not unless we have to. Let's explore it first. As of right now, are we +under the Code or not?" + +"Of course we are." + +"Not necessarily," Belle put in, sharply. "Not slavishly to the letter. +We're so far away and our chance of getting back is so slight that it +should be interpreted in the light of common sense." + + * * * + +Garlock stared at Belle and she stared back, her eyes as clear and +innocent as a baby's. + +"The Code is neither long enough nor complicated enough to require +interpretation," Garlock stated, finally. "It either applies in full and +exactly or not at all. My ruling is that the Code applies, strictly, +until I declare the state of Ultimate Contingency. Are you ready, Belle, +to abandon the project, find an uninhabited Tellurian world, and begin +to populate it?" + +"Well, not quite, perhaps." + +"Yes or no, please." + +"No." + +"We are under the Code, then. Go ahead, Jim." + +"I broke pairing with Belle and she refused to confirm." + +"Certainly I refused. He had no reason to break with me." + +"I had plenty of reason!" James snapped. "I'm fed up to here--" he drew +his right forefinger across his forehead, "--with making so-called love +to a woman who can never think of anything except cutting another man's +throat. She's a heartless conniver." + +"You both know that reasons are unnecessary and are not discussed in +public," Garlock said, flatly. "Now as to confirmation of a break. In +simple pairing there is no marriage, no registration, no declaration of +intent or of permanence. Thus, legally or logically, there is no +obligation. Morally, however, there is always some obligation. Hence, as +a matter of urbanity, in cases where no injury exists except as concerns +chastity, the Code calls for agreement without rancor. If either party +persists in refusal to confirm, and cannot show injury, that party's +behavior is declared inurbane. Confirmation is declared and the +offending party is ignored." + +"Just how would you go about ignoring Prime Operator Belle Bellamy?" + +"You've got a point there, Jim. However, she hasn't persisted very long +in her refusal. As a matter of information, Belle, why did you take Jim +in the first place?" + +"I didn't." She shrugged her shoulders. "It was pure chance. You saw me +flip the tenth-piece." + +"Am I to ignore the fact that you are one of the best telekineticists +living?" + +"I don't _have_ to control things unless I want to!" She stamped her +foot. "Can't you conceive of me flipping a coin honestly?" + +"No. However, since this is not a screens-down inquiry, I'll give +you--orally, at least--the benefit of the doubt. The next step, I +presume, is for Lola to break with me. Lola?" + +"Well ... I hate to say this, Clee.... I thought that mutual consent +would be better, but...." Lola paused, flushing in embarrassment. + +"She feels," James said, steadily, "as I do, that there should be much +more to the sexual relation than merely releasing the biological +tensions of two pieces of human machinery. That's hardly civilized." + +"I confirm, Lola, of course," Garlock said; then went on, partly +thinking aloud, partly addressing the group at large. "Ha. Reasons +again, and very well put--not off the cuff. Evasions. Flat lies. +Something very unfunny here--as queer as a nine-credit bill. In sum, +indefensible actions based upon unwarranted conclusions drawn from +erroneous assumptions. The pattern is not clear ... but I won't order +screens down until I have to ... if the reason had come from Belle...." + +"_Me_?" Belle flared. "Why from me?" + +"... instead of Jim...." Ignoring Belle's interruption, Garlock frowned +in thought. After a minute or so his face cleared. + +"Jim," he said, sharply, "have you been consciously aware of Belle's +manipulation?" + +"Why, no, of course not. She _couldn't_!" + +"That's _really_ a brainstorm, Clee," Belle sneered. "You'd better turn +yourself in for an overhaul." + +"Nice scheme, Belle," Garlock said. "I underestimated--at least, didn't +consider carefully enough--your power; and overestimated your ethics and +urbanity." + +"What are you talking about, Chief?" James asked. "You lost me ten +parsecs back." + +"Just this. Belle is behind this whole operation; working under a +perfectly beautiful smokescreen." + +"I'm afraid the boss is cracking up, kids," Belle said. "Listen to him, +if you like, but use your own judgment." + +"But nobody could make Jim and me really love each other," Lola argued, +"and we really do. It's real love." + +"Admitted," Garlock said. "But she could have helped it along; and she's +all set to take every possible advantage of the situation thus created." + +"I still don't see it," James objected. "Why, she wouldn't even confirm +our break. She hasn't yet." + +"She would have, at the exactly correct psychological moment; after +holding out long enough to put you both under obligation to her. There +would have, also, been certain strings attached. Her plan was, after +switching the pairings...." + +"I wouldn't pair with you," Belle broke in viciously, "if you were the +only man left in the macrocosmic universe!" + +"Part of the smokescreen," Garlock explained. "The re-pairings would +give her two lines of attack on me, to be used simultaneously. First, to +work on me in bed...." + +"See?" Belle interrupted. "He doesn't think I've got any heart at all." + +"Oh, you may have one, but it's no softer than your head, and that could +scratch a diamond. Second, to work on you two, with no holds barred, to +form a three-unit team against me. Her charges that I am losing my grip +made a very smart opening lead." + +"Do you think I'd _let_ her work on me?" James demanded. + +"She's a Prime--you wouldn't know anything about it. However, nothing +will happen. Nor am I going to let her confuse the real issue. Belle, +you are either inside the Code or a free agent outside it. Which?" + +"I have made my position clear." + +"To me, yes. To Jim and Lola, decidedly unclear." + +"Unclear, then. You can _not_ coerce me!" + +"If you follow the Code, no. If you don't, I can and will. If you make +any kind of a pass at Jim James from now on, I'll lock you into your +room with a Gunther block." + +"_You wouldn't dare_!" she breathed. "Besides, you couldn't, not to +another prime." + +"Don't bet on it," he advised. + +After a full minute of silence Garlock's attitude changed suddenly to +his usual one of casual friendliness. "Why not let this one drop right +here, Belle? I can marry them, with all the official trimmings. Why not +let 'em really enjoy their honeymoon?" + +"Why not?" Belle's manner changed to match Garlock's and she smiled +warmly. "I confirm, Jim. You two are really serious, aren't you? +Marriage, declarations, registration, and everything? I wish--I +sincerely and really wish you--every happiness possible." + +"We really _are_ serious," James said, putting his arm around Lola's +waist. "And you won't ... won't interfere?" + +"Not a bit. I couldn't, now, even if I wanted to." Belle grinned wryly. +"You see, you kids missed the main feature of the show, since you can't +know exactly what a Prime Operator is. Especially you can't know what +Cleander Simmsworth Garlock really is--he's an out-and-out tiger on +wheels. The three of us could have smacked him bow-legged, but of course +all chance of that blew up just now. So if you two want to take the big +jump you can do it with my blessing as well as Clee's. I'll clear the +table." + + * * * + +That small chore taken care of--a quick folding-up of everything into +the tablecloth and a heave into the chute did it--Belle set up the +recorder. + +"Are you both fully certain that you want the full treatment?" Garlock +asked. + +Both were certain, and Garlock read the brief but solemn marriage lines. + +As the newlyweds left the room, Belle turned to Garlock with a quizzical +smile. "Are you going to ask me to pair with you, Clee?" + +"I certainly am." He grinned back at her. "I owe you that much revenge, +at least. But seriously, I'd like it immensely and we fit like Grace and +Poise. Look at that mirror. Did you ever see a better-matched couple? +Will you give me a try, Belle?" + +"I will not," she said, emphatically. I'll take back what I said a while +ago--if you were really the only man left, I would--but as it is, the +answer is a definite, resounding, and final '_No_'." + +"'Definite' and 'resounding,' yes. 'Final,' I won't accept. I'll wait." + +"You'll wait a long time, Buster. My door will be locked from now on. +Good night, Doctor Garlock, I'm going to bed." + +"So am I." He walked with her along the corridor to their rooms, the +doors of which were opposite each other. "In view of the Code, locking +your door is a meaningless gesture. Mine will remain unlocked. I invite +you to come in whenever you like, and assure you formally that no such +entry will be regarded as an invasion of privacy." + +Without a word she went into her room and closed the door with a +firmness just short of violence. Her lock clicked sharply. + + * * * + +The next morning, after breakfast, James followed Garlock into his room +and shut the door. + +"Clee, I want to tell you.... I don't want to get sloppy but...." + +"Want to lep it?" + +"Hell, no!" + +"It's about Brownie, then." + +"Uh-huh. I've always liked you immensely. Admired you. Hero, sort +of...." + +"Yeah. I quote. 'Harder than Pharaoh's heart.' 'Colder than frozen +helium,' and all the rest. But this thing about Brownie...." He reached +out; two hard hands met in a crushing grip. "How could you possibly lay +off? Just the strain, if nothing else." + +"A little strain doesn't hurt a man unless he lets it. I've done without +for months at a stretch, with it running around loose on all sides of +me." + +"But she's so ... she's got _everything_!" + +"There speaketh the ensorcelled bridegroom. For my taste, she hasn't. +She told you, I suppose, when explaining a certain fact, that I told her +she wasn't my type?" + +"Yes, but...." + +"She still isn't. She's a very fine person, with a very fine +personality. She is one of the two most nearly perfect young women of +her race. Her face is beautiful. Her body is an artist's dream. Her mind +is one of the very best. Besides all that, she's a very good egg and a +mighty tasty dish. But put yourself in my place. + + * * * + +"Here's this paragon we have just described. She has extremely high +ideals and she's a virgin; never really aroused. Also, she's so full of +this sickening crap they've been pouring into us--propaganda, +rocket-oil, prop-wash, and psychological gobbledygook--that it's running +out of her ears. She's so stuffed with it that she's going to pair with +you, ideals and virginity be damned, even if it kills her; even though +she's shaking, clear down to her shoes--scared yellow. Also, she is and +always will be scared half to death of you--she thinks you're some kind +of robot. She's a starry-eyed, soft-headed sissy. A sapadilla. A sucker +for a smooth line of balloon-juice and flapdoodle. No spine; no bottom. +A gutless doll-baby. Strictly a pet--you could no more love her, ever, +than you could a half-grown kitten...." + +"That's a _hell_ of a picture!" James broke in savagely. "Even with your +cold-blooded reputation." + +"People in love can't be objective, is all. If I saw her through the +same set of filters you do, I'd be in love with her, too. So let's see +if you can use your brain instead of your outraged sensibilities to +answer a hypothetical question. If the foregoing were true, what would +_you_ do, Junior?" + +"I'd pass, I guess. I'd have to, if I wanted to look at myself in the +mirror next morning. But that's such an _ungodly_ cockeyed picture, +Clee.... But if that's actually your picture of Brownie--and you're no +part of a liar--just what kind of a woman could you love? If any?" + +"Belle." + +"_Belle_! Belle _Bellamy_? Hell's flaming furies! That iceberg? That +egomaniac? That Jezebel? She's the hardest-boiled babe that ever went +unhung." + +"Right, on all counts. Also she's crooked and treacherous. She's a +ground-and-lofty liar by instinct and training. I could add a lot more. +But she's got brains, ability, and guts--guts enough to supply the +Women's Army Corps. She's got the spine and the bottom and the drive. So +just imagine her thawed out and really shoveling on the coal--blasting +wide open on all forty torches. Back to back with you when you're +surrounded; she wouldn't cave and she wouldn't give. Or wing and +wing--holding the beam come hell or space-warps. Roll that one around on +your tongue, Jim, and give your taste-buds a treat." + +"Well, maybe ... if I've got that much imagination ... that's a tough +blueprint to read. I can't quite visualize the finished article. +However, you're as hard as she is--even harder. You've got more of what +it takes. Maybe _you_ can make a Christian out of her. If so, you might +have something; but I'm damned if I can see exactly what. Whatever it +turned out to be, I wouldn't care for any part of it. You could have it +all." + +"Exactly; and you can have your Brownie." + +"I'm beginning to see. I didn't think you had anything like that in your +chilled-steel carcass. And I want to apolo...." + +"Don't do it, boy. If the time ever comes when _you_ go so soft on me as +to quit laying it on the line and start sifting out your language...." +Garlock paused. For one of the very few times in his life, he was at a +loss for words. He thrust his hands into his pockets and shrugged his +shoulders. "Hell, I don't want to get maudlin, either ... so ... well, +how many men, do you think, could have gone the route with me on this +hellish job without killing me or me killing them?" + +"Oh, that's not...." + +"Lay it on the line, Jim. I know what I am. Just one. You. One man in +six thousand million. Okay; how many women could live with me for a year +without going crazy?" + +"Lots of 'em; but, being masochists, they'd probably drive _you_ nuts. +And you can't stand 'stupidity'; which, by definition, lets _everybody_ +out. Nope, it's a tough order to fill." + +"Check. She'd have to be strong enough and hard enough not to be afraid +of me, by any trace. Able and eager to stand up to me and slug it out. +To pin my ears back flat against my skull whenever she thinks I'm off +the beam. Do it with skill and precision and nicety, with power and +control; yet without doing herself any damage and without changing her +basic feeling for me. In short, a female Jim James Nine." + +"Huh? Hell's blowtorches! You think _I'm_ like Belle Bellamy?" + +"Not by nine thousand megacycles. Like Belle Bellamy could be and should +be. Like I hope she will be. I'd have to give, too, of course--maybe we +can make Christians out of each other. It's quite a dream, I admit, but +it'll be Belle or nobody. But I'm not used to slopping over this +way--let's go." + +"I'm glad you did, big fellow--once in a lifetime is good for the soul. +I'd say you were in love with her right now--except that if you were, +you couldn't possibly dissect her like a specimen on the table, the way +you've just been doing. Are you or aren't you?" + +"I'll be damned if I know. You and Brownie believe that the poets' +concept of love is valid. In fact, you make a case for its validity. I +never have, and don't now ... but under certain conditions ... I simply +don't know. Ask me again sometime; say in about a month?" + +"That's the surest thing you know. Oh, _brother! This_ is a thing I'm +going to watch with my eyes out on stalks!" + + * * * + +For the next week, Belle locked her door every night. For another few +nights, she did not lock it. Then, one night, she left it ajar. The +following evening, the two again walked together to their doors. + +"I left my door open last night." + +"I know you did." + +"Well?" + +"And have you scream to high heaven that I opened it? And put me on a +tape for willful inurbanity? For deliberate intersexual invasion of +privacy?" + + * * * + +"Blast and damn! You know perfectly well, Clee Garlock, I wouldn't pull +such a dirty, lousy trick as that." + +"Maybe I should apologize, then, but as a matter of fact I have no idea +whatever as to what you wouldn't do." He stared at her, his face hard in +thought. "As you probably know, I have had very little to do with women. +That little has always been on a logical level. You are such a +completely new experience that I can't figure out what makes you tick." + +"So you're afraid of me," she sneered. "Is that it?" + +"Close enough." + +"And I suppose it's you that cartoonist what's-his-name is using as a +model for 'Timorous Timmy'?" + +"Since you've guessed it, yes." + +"You ... you _weasel_!" She took three quick steps up the corridor, then +back. "You say my logic is cockeyed. What system are you using now?" + +"I'm trying to develop one to match yours." + +"Oh ... I invited that one, I guess, since I know you aren't afraid of +God, man, woman, or devil ... and you're big enough so you don't have to +be proving it all the time." She laughed suddenly, her face softening +markedly. "Listen, you big lug. Why don't you ever knock me into an +outside loop? If I were you and you were me, I'd've busted me loose from +my front teeth long ago." + +"I'm not sure whether I know better or am afraid to. Anyway, I'm not +rocking any boat so far from shore." + +"Says you. You're wonderful, Clee--simply priceless. Do you know you're +the only man I ever met that I couldn't make fall for me like a rock +falling down a cliff? And that the falling is altogether too apt to be +the other way?" + +"The first, I have suspected. The second is chemically-pure rocket-oil." + +"I _hope_ it is.... I wish I could be as certain of it as you are.... +You see, Clee, I really expected you to come in, last night, and there +really _wasn't_ any bone in it. Surely, you don't think I'm going to +_invite_ you into my room, do you?" + +"I can't see why not. However, since no valid system of logic seems to +apply, I accept your decision as a fact. By the same reasoning--however +invalid--if I ask you again you will again refuse. So all that's left, I +guess, is for me to drag you into my room by force." + +He put his left arm around her and applied a tiny pressure against her +side; under which she began to move slowly toward his door. + +"You admit that you're using force?" she asked. Her face was unreadable; +her mental block was at its fullest force. "That I'm being coerced? +Definitely?" + +"Definitely," he agreed. "At least ten dynes of sheer brute force. Not +enough to affect a tape, but enough, I hope, to affect you. If it isn't, +I'll use more." + +"Oh, ten dynes is enough. Just so it's force." + +She raised her face toward his and threw both arms around his neck. His +right arm went into action with his left, and Cleander Garlock forgot +all about dynes and tapes. + +After a time she disengaged one arm; reached out; opened his door. He +gathered her up and, lips still locked to lips, carried her over the +threshold. + + * * * + +A few jumps later they met their first really old Arpalone. This +Inspector was so old that his skin, instead of the usual bright, clear +cobalt blue, was dull and tending toward gray. The old fellow was +strangely garrulous, for a Guardian; he wanted them to pause a while and +gossip. + +"Yes, I am lonesome," he admitted. "It has been a long time since I +exchanged thoughts with anyone. You see, nobody has visited this +planet--Groobe, its name is--since almost all our humanity was killed, a +few periods ago...." + +"Killed? How?" Garlock asked sharply. "Not Dilipic?" + +"Oh, you have seen them? I never have, myself. No, nothing nearly that +bad. Merely the Ozobes. The world itself was scarcely harmed at all. +Rehabilitation will be a simple matter, so there's no real reason why +some of those Engineers...." + +"The beast!" Lola shot a tight-beam thought at her husband. "Who cares +anything about the rock and dirt of a _planet_? It's the people that +count and his are dead and he's perfectly _complaisant_ about it--just +_lonesome_!" + +"Don't let it throw you, pet," James soothed. "He's an Arpalone, you +know; not a sociological anthropologist." + +"... shouldn't come out here and spend a few hours once in a while, but +they don't. Too busy with their own business, they say. But while you +are physically human, mentally you are not. You're all too ... too ... I +can't put my thought exactly on it, but ... more as though you were +human fighters, if such a thing could be possible." + +"We are fighters. Where we come from, most human beings are fighters." + +"Oh? I never heard of such a thing. Where can you be from?" + +This took much explanation, since the Arpalone had never heard of +inter-galactic travel. "You are willing, then, to fight side by side +with us Arpalones against the enemies of humanity? You have actually +done so, at times, and won?" + +"We certainly have." + +"I am glad. I am expecting a call for help any time now. Will you please +give me enough of your mental pattern, Doctor Garlock, so that I can +call you in case of need? Thank you." + +"What makes you think you're going to get an S.O.S. so soon? Where +from?" + +"Because these Ozobe invasions come in cycles, years apart, but there +are always several planets attacked at very nearly the same time. We +were the first, this time; so there will be one or two others very +shortly." + +"Do they always ... kill all the people?" Lola asked. + +"Oh, no. Scarcely half of the time. Depends on how many fighters the +planet has, and how much outside help can get there soon enough." + +"Your call could come from any of the other solar systems in this +neighborhood, then?" Garlock asked. + +"Yes. There are fifteen inhabited planets within about six light-years +of us, and we form a close-knit group." + +"What are these Ozobes?" + +"Animals. Warm-blooded, but egg-layers, not mammals. Like this," and the +Inspector spread in their minds a picture of a creature somewhat like +the flying tigers of Hodell, except that the color was black, shading +off to iridescent green at the extremities. Also, it was armed with a +short and heavy, but very sharp, sting. + +"They say that they come from space, but I don't believe it," the old +fellow went on. "What would a warm-blood be doing out in space? Besides, +they couldn't find anybody to lay their eggs in out there. No, sir, I +think they live right here on Groobe somewhere, maybe holed up in caves +or something for ten or thirteen years ... but that wouldn't make sense, +either, would it? I just don't know...." + + * * * + +Garlock finally broke away from the lonesome Inspector and the +_Pleiades_ started down. + +"That's the most utterly _horrible_ thing I ever heard of in my life!" +Lola burst out. "Like wasps--only worse--_people_ aren't bugs! Why don't +all the planets get together and develop something to kill every Ozobe +in every system of the group?" + +"That one has got too many bones in it for me to answer," James said. + +"I'm going to get hold of that Engineer as soon as we land," Lola said, +darkly, "and stick a pin into him." + +They found the Engineering Office easily enough, in a snug camp well +outside a large city. They grounded the starship and went out on foot; +enjoying contact with solid ground. The Head Engineer was an Arpalone, +too--Engineers were not a separate race, but dwellers on a planet of +extremely high technology--but he did know anything about space-drives. +His specialty was rehabilitation; he was top boss of a rehab crew.... + + * * * + +Then Lola pushed Garlock aside. Yes, the Ozobes came from space. He was +sure of it. Yes, they laid eggs in human bodies. Yes, they probably +stayed alive quite a while--or might, except for the rehab crew. No, he +didn't _know_ what would hatch out--he'd never let one live that long, +but what the hell else _could_ hatch except Ozobes? No, not one. Not one +single damn one. If just one ever did, on any world where he bossed the +job, he'd lose his job as boss and go to the mines for half a year.... + +"Ridiculous!" Lola snapped. "If Ozobes hatched, they couldn't possibly +have come from space. If they _did_ come from space, the adult form +would have to be something able to get back into space, some way or +other. _That_ is simple elementary biology. Don't you see that?" + +He didn't see it. He didn't give a damn, either. It was none of his +business; he was a rehab man. + +Lola ran back to the ship in disgust. + +"Something else is even more ridiculous, and _is_ your business," James +told the Head Engineer. "Garlock and I are both engineers--top ones. We +know definitely that a one-hundred-percent clean-up on such a job as +this--millions--simply can't be done. Ever. Under any conditions. Are +you lying in your teeth or are you dumb enough to believe it yourself?" + +"Neither one," the Engineer insisted, stubbornly. "I've wondered, +myself, at how I could get 'em all, but I always do--every time so far. +That's why they give me the big job. I'm good at it." + +"Oh--Lola's right, Jim," Garlock said. "It's the adult form that +hatches; something so different they don't even recognize it. Something +able to get into space. Enough survivors to produce the next +generation." + +"Sure. I'll tell Brownie--she'll be tickled." + +"She'll be more than tickled--she'll want to hunt up somebody around +here with three brain cells working and give 'em an earful." Then, to +the Engineer, "Do you know how they rehab a planet that's been leveled +flat by the golop?" + +"You've _seen_ one? I never have, but of course I've studied it. Slow, +but not too difficult. After killing, the stuff weathers down in a few +years--wonderful soil it makes--what makes it slow is that you have to +wait fifty or a hundred years for the mountains to get built up again +and for the earthquakes to quit...." + +"Excuse me, please--I've got a call--we have to leave, right now." + +The call was from the Inspector. The nearest planet, Clamer, was being +invaded by the Ozobes and needed all the help they could get. + + * * * + +In seconds the _Pleiades_ was at the Port of Entry. + +"Where is this Clamer?" Garlock asked. + +The Inspector pointed a thought; all four followed it. + +"Let's go, Jim. Maybe...." + +"Just a minute!" Lola snapped. She was breathing hard, her eyes were +almost shooting sparks as she turned to the old Arpalone and drove a +thought so forcibly that he winced. + +"Do you so-called 'Guardians of Humanity' care at all about the humanity +you're supposed to be protecting?" she demanded viciously, the thought +boring in and twisting, "or are you just loafing on the job and doing as +little as you possibly can without getting fired?" + +Belle and Garlock looked at each other and grinned. James was surprised +and shocked. This woman blowing her top was no Brownie Montandon any of +them knew. + +"We do everything we possibly can," the Inspector was not only shocked, +but injured and abused. "If there's any one possible thing we haven't +done, even the tiniest...." + +"There's plenty!" she snapped. "Plain, dumb stupidity, then, it must be. +There must be _somebody_ around here who has been at least exposed to +elementary biology! You should have exterminated these Ozobe vermin ages +ago. All you have to do is find out what its life cycle is. How many +stages and what they are. How the adults get into space and where they +go," and she went on, in flashing thoughts, to explain in full detail. + +"Are you smart enough to understand that?" + +"Oh, yes. Your thought may be the truth, at that." + +"And are you interested enough to find out whose business it would be, +and follow through on it?" + +"Yes, of course. If it works, I'll be quite famous for suggesting it. +I'll give you part of the credit...." + +"Keep the credit--just see to it that it gets _done_!" She whirled on +James. "This loss of human life is so _appallingly_ unnecessary! This +time we're going to Clamer, and nowhere else. Push the button, Jim." + +"All I can do is set up for it, pet. Whether we...." + +"We'll get there!" she blazed. "It's high time we got a break. _Punch_ +it! _This_ time the ship's going to _Clamer_, if we have to all get out +and _push_ it there! Now punch that button!" + +James pushed the button, glanced into his scanner, and froze; eyes +staring. He did not even whistle. Belle, however, did; with +ear-shattering volume. Garlock's mouth fell open in the biggest surprise +of his life. They were in the same galaxy! + +All three had studied charts of nebular configurations so long and so +intensely that recognition of a full-sphere identity was automatic and +instantaneous. + +Lola, head buried in scanner, had already checked in with the Port +Inspector. + +"It _is_ Clamer!" she shrieked aloud. "I _told_ you it was time for our +luck to change, if we pulled hard enough! They are being invaded by +Ozobes and they did call for help and they didn't think we could +possibly get here this fast and we don't need to be inspected because +we're compatible or we couldn't have landed on Groobe!" + +For five long minutes Garlock held the starship motionless while he +studied the entire situation. Then he drove a probe through the mental +shield of the general in charge of the whole defense operation. + +"Battle-Cruiser _Pleiades_, Captain Garlock commanding, reporting for +duty in response to your S.O.S. received on Groobe." + +The general, furiously busy as he was, dropped all other business. "But +you're _human_! You can't fight!" + +"Watch us. You don't know, apparently, that the Ozobe bases are on the +far side of your moon. They're bringing their fighters in most of the +way in transports." + +"Why, they can't be! They're coming in from all directions from deep +space!" + +"That's what they want you to think. They're built to stand many hours +of zero pressure and almost absolute zero cold. Question: if we destroy +all their transport, say in three hours, can you handle all the fighters +who will be in the air or in nearby space at that time?" + +"Very easily. They've hardly started yet. I appoint you Admiral-pro-tem +Garlock, in command of Space Operations, and will refer to you any other +space-fighters who may come. I thank you, sir. Good luck." + +The general returned his attention to his boiling office. His mind was +seething with questions as to what these not-human beings were, how or +if they knew so much, and so on; but he forced them out of his mind and +went, fast and efficient, back to work. James shot the _Pleiades_ up to +within a thousand miles or so of the moon. + +"How long does it take to learn this bombing business, Jim?" Lola asked. + +"About fifteen seconds. All you have to do is _want_ to. Do you, +really?" + +"I really do. If I don't do something to help these people," it did not +occur to her that she had already done a tremendous job, "I'll never +forgive myself." + +James showed her; and, much to her surprise, she found it very easy to +do. + + * * * + +The vessels transporting the invading forces were huge, spherical shells +equipped with short-range drives--and with nothing else. No +accommodations, no facilities, no food, no water, not even any air. Each +transport, when filled to the bursting-point with as-yet-docile cargo, +darted away; swinging around to approach Clamer from some +previously-assigned direction. It did not, however, approach the +planet's surface. At about two thousand miles out, great ports opened +and the load was dumped out into space, to fall the rest of the way by +gravity. Then the empty shell, with only its one pilot aboard, rushed +back for another load. + +"How heavy shots, Clee?" James asked. He and Lola were getting into +their scanners. "Wouldn't take as much as a kiloton equivalent, would +it?" + +"Half a kilo is plenty, but no use being too fussy about precision out +here." + + * * * + +Garlock and Belle were already bombing; James and Lola began. Slow and +awkward at first, Lola soon picked up the technique and was firing blast +for blast with the others. No more loaded transport vessels left the +moon. No empty one, returning toward the moon, reached there. In much +less than the three hours Garlock had mentioned, every Ozobian transport +craft had been destroyed. + +"And now the real job begins," Garlock said, as James dropped the +starship down to within a few miles of the moon's surface. + +That surface was cratered and jagged, exactly like that of the half +always facing Clamer. No sign of activity could be seen by eye, nor +anything unusual. Even the immense trap-doors, all closed now, matched +exactly their surroundings. Underground, however, activity was violently +intense; and, now, confused in the extreme. + +"Why, there isn't a single adult anywhere!" Lola exclaimed. "I thought +the whole place would be full of 'em!" + +"So did I," Belle said. "However, by hindsight, it's plain enough. Their +job done, they were killed and eaten. Last meal, perhaps." + +"I'm afraid so. Whatever they were, they had hands and brains. Just +_look_ at those shops and machines!" + +"What do we do, boss?" James asked. "Run a search pattern first?" + +"We'll have to, I guess, before we can lay the job out." + +It was run and Garlock frowned in thought. "Almost half the moon +covered--honeycombed. We'll have to fine-tooth it. Around the periphery +first, then spiral into the center. This moon isn't very big, but even +so this is going to be a hell of a long job. Any suggestions, anybody? +Jim?" + +"The only way, I guess. You can't do it hit-or-miss. I'm _damn_ glad +we've got plenty of stuff in our Op field and plenty of hydride for the +engines. The horses will all know they've been at work before they get +the field filled up again." + +"So will you, Junior, believe me.... Ready, all? Start blasting." + +Then, for three hours, the _Pleiades_ moved slowly--for her--along a +plotted and automatically-controlled course. It was very easy to tell +where she had been; the sharply-cut, evenly-spaced, symmetrical pits +left by the Galaxian's full-conversion blasts were entirely different +from the irregularly-cratered, ages-old original surface. + +"Knock off, Brownie," Garlock said then. "Go eat all you can hold and +get some sleep. Come back in three hours. Jim, cut our speed to +seventy-five percent." + +Lola shed her scanner, heaved a tremendous sigh of relief, and +disappeared. + +Three silent hours later--all three were too intensely busy to think of +anything except the work in hand--Lola came back. + +"Take Belle's swath, Brownie. Okay, Belle, you can lay off. Three +hours." + +"I'll stay," Belle declared. "Go yourself; or send Jim." + +"Don't be any more of a damn fool than you have to. I said beat it." + +"And I said I wouldn't. I'm just as good...." + +"Chop it off!" Garlock snapped. "It isn't a case of being just as good +as. It's a matter of physical reserves. Jim and I have more to draw on +for the long shifts than you have. So get the hell out of here or I'll +stop the ship and slap you even sillier than you are now." + +Belle threw up her head, tossing her shoulder-length green mop in her +characteristic gesture of defiance; but after holding Garlock's hard +stare for a moment she relaxed and smiled. + +"Okay, Clee--and thanks for the kind words." + +She disappeared and the work went on. + +And finally, when all four were so groggy that they could scarcely +think, the job was done and checked. Clamer's moon was as devoid of life +as any moon had ever been. + + * * * + +Lola pitched her scanner at its rack and threw herself face-down on a +davenport, sobbing uncontrollably. James sat down beside her and soothed +her until she quieted down. + +"You'd better eat something, sweetheart, and then for a good, long +sleep." + +"Eat? Why, I couldn't, Jim, not possibly." + +"Let her sleep first, I think, Jim," Belle said, and followed with her +eyes as Jim picked his wife up and carried her into the corridor. + +"We'd better eat _something_, I suppose," Belle said, thoughtfully. "I +don't feel like eating, either, but I never realized until this minute +just how much this has taken out of me and I'd better start putting it +back in.... She did a wonderful job, Clee, even if she couldn't take it +full shift toward the last." + +"I'll say she did. I hated like the devil to let her work that way, but +... you knew I was scared witless every second until we topped off." + +Exhausted and haggard as she was, Belle laughed. "I know damn-blasted +well you weren't; but I know what you mean. Fighting something you don't +know anything about, and can't guess what may happen next, is tough. +Seconds count." Side by side, they strolled toward the alcove. + +"I simply didn't think she had it in her," Belle marveled. + +"She didn't. She hasn't. It'll take her a week to get back into shape." + +"Right. She was going on pure nerve at the last--nothing else ... but +she did a job, and she's so sweet and fine.... I wonder, Clee, if ... if +I've been missing the boat...." + +"You have not." Garlock sent the thought so solidly that Belle jumped. +"If you'd just let yourself be, you'd be worth a million of her, just as +you stand." + +"Yes? You lie in your teeth, Cleander, but I love it.... Oh, I don't +know what I want to eat--if anything." + +"I'll think up yours, too, along with mine." + +"Please. Something light, and just a little." + +"Yeah. Sit down. Just a light snack--a two-pound steak, rare; a bowl of +mushrooms fried in butter; French fries, french dips, salad, and a quart +of coffee. The same for me, except more of each. Here we are." + +"Why, Clee, I couldn't _possibly_ eat half of that...." Then, after a +quarter of it was gone, "I _am_ hungry, at that--simply ravenous. I +could eat a horse and saddle, and chase the rider." + +"That's what I thought. I knew I could, and figured you accordingly." + + * * * + +They ate those tremendous meals slowly, enjoying every bite and sip; in +an atmosphere of friendliness and good fellowship; chatting on a wide +variety of subjects as they ate. Neither was aware of the fact that this +was the first time they had ever been on _really_ friendly terms. And +finally every dish and container was empty, almost polished clean. + +"One hundred percent capacity--can chew but can't swallow," Garlock said +then, lighting two cigarettes and giving Belle one. "How's that for a +masterly job of calibration?" + +"Me, too. It'll pass." Belle sighed in repletion. "Your ability to +estimate the exact capacity of containers is exceeded only by your good +looks and by the size of your feet. And now to hit the good old sack for +an indefinite but very long period of time." + +"You chirped it, birdie." Still eminently friendly, the two walked +together to their doors. Belle put up a solid block and paused, +irresolute, twisting the toe of one slipper into the carpet. + +"Clee, I ... I wonder ... if...." Her voice died away. + +"I know what you mean." He put his arms around her gently, tenderly, and +looked deep into her eyes. "I want to tell you something, Belle. You're +a woman, not in seven thousand million women, but in that many planets +full of women. What it takes, you very definitely and very abundantly +have got. And you aren't the only one that's pooped. I don't need +company tonight, either. I'm going to sleep until I wake up, if it takes +all day. Or say, if you wake up first, why not punch me and we'll have +breakfast together?" + +"That's a thought. Do the same for me. Good night, Clee." + +"Good night, ace." He kissed her, as gently as he had been holding her, +opened her door, closed it after her, and stepped across the corridor +into his own room. + +"_What_ a man!" Belle breathed to herself, behind the solid screens of +her room. "He thought I was too tired, not just scared to death too. +What a _man_! Belle Bellamy, you ought to be kicked from here to +Tellus...." Then she threw back her head, drove a hard little fist into +a pillow, and spoke aloud through clenched teeth. "No, damn and blast +it, I _won't_ give in. I _won't_ love him. I'll take the Project away +from him if it's the last thing I ever do in this life!" + + * * * + +She woke up the next morning--not morning, either, since it was well +after noon--a little before Garlock did, but not much. When she went +into his room he was shaved and fully dressed except for one shoe, which +he was putting on. + +"Hi, boss! Better we eat, huh? Not only am I starving by inches, but if +we don't eat pretty quick we'll get only one meal today instead of +three. Did you eat your candy bar?" + +"I sure did, ace." + +"Oh, I'm still 'ace'? You can kiss me, then," and she raised her face +toward his. + +He kissed her, still tenderly, and they strolled to and through the Main +and into the alcove. James and Lola, the latter looking terribly +strained and worn, had already eaten, but joined them in their +after-breakfast coffee and cigarettes. + +"You've checked, of course," Garlock said. "Everything on the beam?" + +"Dead center. Even to Lola and her biologists. Everybody's full of joy +and gratitude and stuff--as well as information. And we managed to pry +ourselves loose without waking you two trumpet-of-doom sleepers up. So +we're ready to jump again. I wonder where in _hell_ we'll wind up _this_ +time." + +"I'm glad you said that, Jim." Garlock said. "It gives me the nerve to +spring a thing on you that I've been mulling around in my mind ever +since we landed here." + +"Nerve? You?" James asked, incredulously. "Pass the coffee-pot around +again, Brownie. If that character there said what I heard him say, +this'll make your hair stand straight up on end." + +"On our jumps we've had altogether too much power and no control +whatever...." Garlock paused in thought. + +"Like a rookie pitcher," Belle suggested. + +"Uh-uh," Lola objected. "It _couldn't_ be that wild. He'd have to stand +with his back to the plate and pitch the ball over the center-field +stands and seven blocks down-town." + +"Cut the persiflage, you two," Garlock ordered. "Consider three things. +First, as you all know, I've been trying to figure out a generator that +would give us intrinsic control, but I haven't got any farther with it +than we did back on Tellus. Second, consider all the jumps we've made +except this last one. Every time we've taken off, none of us has had his +shield really up. You, Jim, were concentrating on the drive, and so were +wide open to it. The rest of us were at least thinking about it, and so +were more or less open to it. Not one of us has ever ordered it to take +us to any definite place; in fact, I don't believe that anyone of us has +ever even suggested a destination. Each one of us has been thinking, at +the instant of energization of the fields, exactly what you just said, +and with exactly the same emphasis. + +"Third, consider this last jump all by itself. It's the first time we've +ever stayed in the same galaxy. It's the first time we've ever gone +where we wanted to. And it's the first time--here's the crux, as I see +it--that any of us has been concentrating on any destination at the +moment of firing the charge. Brownie was willing the _Pleiades_ to this +planet so hard that we all could taste it. The rest of us, if not really +pushing to get here, were at least not opposed to the idea. Check?" + +"Check." "That's right." "Yes, I was pushing with all my might," came +from the three listeners, and James went on: + +"Are you saying the damn thing's _alive_?" + +"No. I'm saying I don't believe in miracles. I don't believe in +coincidence--that concept is as meaningless as that of paradox. I +certainly do _not_ believe that we hit this planet by chance against +odds of almost infinity to one. So I've been looking for a reason. I +found one. It goes against my grain--against everything I've ever +believed--but, since it's the only possible explanation, it must be +true. The only possible director of the Gunther Drive _must_ be the +mind." + +"Hell's blowtorches--Now you're _insisting_ that the damn thing's +alive." + +"Far from it. It's Brownie who's alive. It was Brownie who got us here. +Nothing else--repeat, _nothing_ else--makes sense." + +James pondered for a full minute. "I wouldn't buy it except for one +thing. If you, the hardest-boiled skeptic that ever went unhung, can +feed yourself the whole bowl of such a mess as that, I can at least take +a taste of it. Shoot." + +"Okay. You know that we don't know anything really fundamental about +either teleportation or the drive. I'm sure now that the drive is simply +mechanical teleportation. If you tried to 'port yourself without any +idea of where you wanted to go, where do you think you'd land?" + +"You might scatter yourself all over space--no, you wouldn't. You +wouldn't move, because it wouldn't be teleportation at all. Destination +is an integral part of the concept." + +"Exactly so--but only because you've been conditioned to it all your +life. This thing hasn't been conditioned to anything." + +"Like a new-born baby," Lola suggested. + +"Life again," James said. "I can't see it--too many bones in it. Pure +luck, even at those odds, makes a lot more sense." + +"And to make matters worse," Garlock went on as though neither of them +had spoken. "Just suppose that a man had four minds instead of one and +they weren't working together. Then where would he go?" + +This time, James simply whistled; the girls stared, speechless. + +"I think we've proved that my school of mathematics was right--the thing +was built to operate purely at random. Fotheringham was wrong. However, +I missed the point that if control is possible, the controller must be a +mind. Such a possibility never occurred to me or anyone working with me. +Or to Fotheringham or to anybody else." + +"I can't say I'm sold, but it's easy to test and the results can't be +any worse. Let's go." + +"How would you test it?" + +"Same way you would. Only way. First, each one of us alone. Then pairs +and threes. Then all four together. Fifteen tests in all. No. Three +destinations for each set-up; near, medium, and far. Except Tellus, of +course; we'd better save that shot until we learn all we can find out. +Everybody not in the set should screen up as solidly as they can set +their blocks--eyes shut, even, and concentrating on something else. +Check?" + +James did not express the thought that Tellus must by now be so far away +that no possible effort could reach it; but he could not repress the +implication. + +"Check. I'll concentrate on a series of transfinite numbers. Belle, you +work on the possible number of shades of the color green. Lola, on how +many different perfumes you can identify by smell. Jim, hit the button." + + + + +CHAPTER 6 + + +Since the tests took much time, and were strictly routine in nature, +there is no need to go into them in detail. At their conclusion, Garlock +said: + +"First: either Jim alone, or Lola alone, or Jim and Lola together, can +hit any destination within any galaxy, but can't go from one galaxy to +another. + +"Second: either Belle or I, or any combination containing either of us +without the other, has no control at all. + +"Third: Belle and I together, or any combination containing both of us, +can go intergalactic under control. + +"In spite of confession being supposed to be good for the soul, I don't +like to admit that we've put gravel in the gear-box--do you, Belle?" +Garlock's smile was both rueful and forced. + +"You can play _that_ in spades." Belle licked her lips; for the first +time since boarding the starship she was acutely embarrassed. "We'll +have to, of course. It was all my fault--it makes me look like a damned +stupid juvenile delinquent." + +"Not by nineteen thousand kilocycles, since neither of us had any idea. +I'll be glad to settle for half the blame." + + * * * + +"Will you please stop talking Sanskrit?" James asked. "Or lep it, so we +two innocent bystanders can understand it?" + +"Will do," and Garlock went on in thought. "Remember what I said about +this drive not being conditioned to anything? I was wrong. Belle and I +have conditioned it, but badly. We've been fighting so much that +something or other in that mess down there has become conditioned to +her; something else to me. My part will play along with anyone except +Belle; hers with anybody except me. Anti-conditioning, you might call +it. Anyway, they lay back their ears and balk." + +"Oh, hell!" James snorted. "Talk about gobbledygook! You are still +saying that that conglomeration of copper and silver and steel and +insulation that we built ourselves has got intelligence, and I still +won't buy it." + +"By no means. Remember, Jim, that this concept of mechanical +teleportation, and that the mind is the only possible controller, are +absolutely new. We've got to throw out all previous ideas and start new +from scratch. I postulate, as a working hypothesis drawn from original +data as modified by these tests, that that particular conglomeration of +materials generates at least two fields about the properties of which we +know nothing at all. That one of those properties is the tendency to +become preferentially resonant with one mind and preferentially +non-resonant with another. Clear so far?" + +"As mud. It's a mighty tough blueprint to read." James scowled in +thought. "However, it's no harder to swallow than Sanderson's Theory of +Teleportation. Or, for that matter, the actual basic coupling between +mind and ordinary muscular action. Does that mean we'll have to rebuild +half a million credits' worth of ... no, you and Belle can work it, +together." + +"I don't know." Garlock paced the floor. "I simply can't see any +_possible_. mechanism of coupling." + +"Subconscious, perhaps," Belle suggested. + +"For my money that whole concept is invalid," Garlock said. "It merely +changes 'I don't know' to 'I can't know' and I don't want any part of +that. However, 'unconscious' could be the answer ... if so, we may have +a lever.... Belle, are you willing to bury your hatchet for about five +minutes--work with me like a partner ought to?" + +"I certainly am, Clee. Honestly. Screens down flat, if you say so." + +"Half-way's enough, I think--you'll know when we get down there." Her +mind joined his and he went on, "Ignore the machines themselves +completely. Consider only the fields. Feel around with me--keep +tuned!--see if there's anything at all here that we can grab hold of and +manipulate, like an Op field except probably very much finer. I'll be +completely damned if I can see how this type of Gunther generator can +put out a manipulable field, but it must. That's the only--O-W-R-C-H-H!" + +This last was a yell of pure mental agony. Both hands flew to his head, +his face turned white, sweat poured, and he slumped down unconscious. + +He came to, however, as the other three were stretching him out on a +davenport. Belle was mopping his face with a handkerchief. + +"What happened, Clee?" All three were exclaiming at once. + +"I found my manipulable field, but a bomb went off in my brain when I +straightened it out." He searched his mind anxiously, then smiled. "But +no damage done--just the opposite. It opened up a Gunther cell I didn't +know I had. Didn't it sock you, too, Belle?" + +"Uh-uh," she said, more than half bitterly. "I must not have one. That +makes you a Super-Prime, if I may name a new classification." + +"Nonsense! Of course you've got it. Unconscious, of course, like me, but +without it you couldn't have conditioned the field. But why.... Oh, what +bit me was the one conditioned to me." + +"Oh, nice!" Belle exclaimed. "Come on, Clee--let's go get mine!" + +"Do you want a bit of knowledge _that_ badly, Belle?" Lola asked. +"Besides, wait, he isn't strong enough yet." + +"Of course he's strong enough. A little knock like that? _Want_ it! I'd +give my right leg and ... and almost _anything_ for it. It didn't kill +him, so it won't kill me." + +"There may be an easier way," Garlock said. "I wouldn't wish a jolt like +that onto my worst enemy. But that had two hundred kilovolts and four +hundred kilogunts behind it. Since I know now where and what the cell +is, I think I can open it up for you without being quite so rough." + +"Oh, lovely. Come in, quick! I'm ready now." + + * * * + +Garlock went in; and wrought. It took longer--half an hour, in fact--but +it was very much easier to take. + +"What did it feel like, Belle?" Lola asked, eagerly. "You winced like he +was drilling teeth and struck a couple of nerves." + +"Uh-uh. More like being stretched all out of shape. Like having a child, +maybe, in a small way. Let's go, Clee!" + +They joined up and went. + +"Ha, _there_ you are, you cantankerous little fabrication of nothings!" +Belle said aloud, in a low, throaty, gloating voice. "Take _that_--and +_that_! And now behave yourself. If you don't, mama spank--but _good_!" +Then, breaking connection, "Thanks a million, Clee; you're tall, solid +gold. Do you want to run some more tests, to see which of us is the +intergalactic transporter?" + +"Not unless you do." + +"Who, me? I'll be tickled to death not to; just like I'd swallowed an +ostrich feather. Back to Tellus, then?" + +"Tellus, here we come," Garlock said. "Jim, what are the Tellurian +figures for exactly five hundred miles up?" + +"I'll punch 'em--got 'em in my head." James did so. "Shall Brownie and I +set our blocks?" + +"No," Belle said. "Nothing can interfere with us now." + +"Ready." Garlock sat down in the pilot's seat. "Cluster 'round, chum." + + * * * + +Belle leaned against the back of the chair and put both arms around +Garlock's neck. "I'm clustered." + +"The spot we're shooting at is exactly over the exact center of the +middle blast-pit at Port Gunther. In sync?" + +"To a skillionth of a whillionth of a microphase. I'm _exactly_ on and +locked. Shoot." + +"Now, you sheet-iron bucket of nuts and bolts, _jump_!" and Garlock +snapped the red switch. + +Earth lay beneath them. So did Port Gunther. + +"Hu-u-u-uh!" Garlock's huge sigh held much more of relief than of +triumph. + +"They did it! We're home!" Lola shrieked; and, breaking into unashamed +and unrestrained tears, went into her husband's extended arms. + +"Cry ahead, sweet. I'd bawl myself if Garlock wasn't looking. Maybe I +will, anyway," James said. Then, extending his right arm to Garlock and +to Belle, "I was scared to death you couldn't make it except by back +tracking. Good going, you two Primes," but his thoughts said vastly more +than his words. + +Belle's eyes, too, were wet; Garlock's own were not quite dry. + +"You weren't as sure as you looked, then, that we could do it the hard +way," Belle said. "All inside, I was one quivering mass of jelly." + +"Afterward, you mean. You were solid as Gibraltar when I fired the +charge. You're the kind of woman a man wants with him when the going's +tough. Slide around here a little, so I can get hold of you." + +Garlock released Belle--finally--and turned to the pilot, who was just +pulling a data-sheet from Compy the Computer. "How far did we miss +target, Jim?" + + * * * + +James held up his right hand, thumb and forefinger forming a circle. +"You're one point eight seven inches high, and off center point five +three inches to the north northeast by east. I hereby award each of you +the bronze medal of Marksman First. Shall I take her down now or do you +want to check in from here first?" + +"Neither ... I think. What do you think, Belle?" + +"Right. Not until you-know-what." + +"Check. Until we decide whether or not to let them know just yet that we +can handle the ship. If we do, how many of our taped reports we turn in +and how many we toss down the chute." + +"I get it!" James exclaimed, with a spreading grin. "_That_, my dear +people, is something I never expected to live long enough to see--our +straight-laced Doctor Garlock applying the Bugger Factor to a research +problem!" + +"I prefer the term 'Monk's Coefficient,' myself," Garlock said, "from +the standpoint of mathematical rigor." + +"At Polytech we called it 'Finagle's Formula'," Belle commented. "The +most widely applicable operator known." + +"Have you three lost your minds?" Lola demanded. "That's nothing to joke +about--you wouldn't destroy official reports! All that astronomy and +anthropology that nobody ever even dreamed of before? You _couldn't_! +Not _possibly_!" + +"Each of us knows just as well as you do how much data we have, exactly +how new and startling it is; but we've thought ahead farther than you +have. None of us likes the idea of destroying it a bit better than you +do. We won't, either, without your full, unreserved, wholehearted +consent, nor without your fixed, iron-clad, unshakable determination +never to reveal any least bit of it." + +"That language is far too strong for me. I'd like to be able to go along +with you, but on those terms, I simply can't." + +"I think you can, when you've thought it through. You've met Alonzo P. +Ferber, haven't you? Read him?" + +"One glimpse; that was all I could stand. He pawed me mentally and +wanted to paw me physically, the first time I ever saw him." + +"Check. So I'm going to ask you two questions, which you may answer as +an anthropologist, as Lola Montandon, as Mrs. James James James the +Ninth, as a member of our team, or as any other character you choose to +assume. Remembering that Ferber's a Gunther First--and pretends to be an +Operator whenever he can get away with it--should he, or anyone like +him, _ever_ be allowed to visit Hodell? Second question: if there is any +possible way for him to get there, can he be made to stay away?" + +"Oh ... Grand Lady Neldine and that perfectly stunning Grand Lady Lemphi +they picked out for Jim ... they're such _nice_ people ... and the +Gunther genes...." As Lola thought on, her expressive face showed a +variety of conflicting emotions before it hardened into decision. "The +answer to both questions--the only possible answer--is no. I subscribe; +on the exact terms you stipulated. And you don't believe, Clee, that my +thesis had anything to do with my holding out at first?" + +"Certainly I don't. Besides...." + +"What thesis?" Belle asked. + + * * * + +"For my Ph.D. in anthropology. I thought I had it made, but it just went +down the chute. And I don't know if any of you realize just how nearly +impossible it is to make a really worthwhile original contribution to +science in that field." + +"As I started to tell you, Brownie," Garlock said, "I don't think you've +lost a thing. There's a bigger and better one coming up." + +"_What_?" + +"Sh-h-h-h," Belle stage-whispered. "He's got a theory--such a weirdie +that he won't talk about it to anybody." + +"It isn't a theory yet--at least, not ripe enough to pick--but it's +something more than a hunch," Garlock said. + +"But what could _possibly_ make as good a thesis as those extra-galactic +tapes?" Lola wailed. "They would have made my thesis a summer breeze." + +"More like a hurricane--the hottest thing since doctorate disputations +first started," Garlock said. "However, as I started to say twice +before, it still will be. Intra-galactic tapes will be just as good. In +this case, better." + +"W-e-l-l ... possibly. But we haven't any." + +"That is what this conference is about. We can't destroy the stuff we +have unless we can replace it with something better. My idea is that we +should visit a few--say fifty--Tellus-type planets in this galaxy; the +ones closest to Tellus. I'm pretty sure they'll be inhabited by _Homo +Sapiens_. There's a chance, of course, that they'll be like Hodell and +the others we've seen; in which case I don't see how we can keep Gunther +genes confined to Earth. However, I'm pretty sure in my own mind that +we'll find them all very much like Tellus, Gunther and all. What would +you think of _that_ for a thesis, Lola?" + +"Oh, wonderful!" + +"Okay. Now to get back to whether we want to check in or not. I don't +like to duck out without letting them know we can handle this +heap--after a fashion, that is; they don't need to know we can really +handle it--but we've got nothing we can report and Fatso will blow his +stack--Oh-oh! Should've remembered Tellus isn't Hodell; the tri-di's +setting up! Belle, you take it. She'd give me Fatso, because he wants to +chew me out, but she won't put him on for you. Cut her throat, but good! +Brownie, hide somewhere! Jim, set up for Beta Centauri--not Alpha, but +Beta--and fast! Give her hell, Belle!" Garlock sent this last thought +from behind a davenport, from which hiding-place he could see the tri-di +screen and both Belle and James; but anyone on the screen could not see +him. + + * * * + +Miss Foster's likeness appeared upon the screen. Chancellor Ferber's +secretary was a big woman, but not fat; middle-aged, gray-haired, +wearing consciously the aura and the domineering, overbearing expression +of a woman who has great power and an even greater drive to exert her +authority. + +"Why haven't you reported in?" Miss Foster snapped, with a glare that +was pure frost. "You arrived thirteen minutes ago. Such delay is +inexcusable. Get Garlock." + +"Captain Garlock is off-watch; asleep. I, Commander Bellamy, am in +command." Standing stiffly at attention, Belle paused to exchange glares +with the woman across the big desk. If Miss Foster's was frost, +Commander Bellamy's was helium ice. + +"Ready to go, Jim?" Belle flashed the thought. + +"Half a minute yet." + +"Any time after I sign off. Pick your own spot." Then aloud into the +screen: "I will report to Chancellor Ferber. I will not report to +Chancellor Ferber's secretary." + +"Doctor James!" Miss Foster's voice was neither as cold nor as steady as +it had been. "Bring that ship down at once!" + +James made no sign that he had heard the order. Belle stood changelessly +stiff. She had not for an instant taken her coldly competent eyes from +those of the woman on the ground. Her emotionless, ultra-refrigerated +voice went, as ever, directly into the screen. + +"I trust that this conversation is being recorded?" + +"It certainly is!" + +"Good. I want it on record that we, the personnel of the starship +_Pleiades_, are not subject to the verbal orders of the Chancellor's +secretary. You will now connect me with Chancellor Ferber, please." + +"The Chancellor is in conference and is not to be disturbed. I _have_ +authority to act for him. You will report to me, and do it right now." +Foster's voice rose almost to a scream. + +"That ground has been covered. Since you have taken it upon yourself to +exceed your authority to such an extent as to refuse to connect the +officer in command of the _Pleiades_ with the Chancellor, I cannot +report to him either the reasons why we are not landing at this time or +when we expect to return to Tellus. You are advised that we may leave at +any instant, just like that!" Belle snapped her finger under the imaged +nose. "You may inform the Chancellor, or not inform him if you prefer, +that our control of the starship _Pleiades_ is something less than +perfect. I do not know exactly how many seconds longer we will be here. +Commander Bellamy signing off. Over and out." + +"_Commander_ Bellamy, indeed! Commander my left foot!" Miss Foster was +screaming now, in thwarted fury. "You're no more a commander than my +lowest office-girl is! Just wait 'till you get down here, you +green-haired hussy, you shameless notor...." The set went +instantaneously from full volume to zero sound as James drove the red +button home. + +"Belle, you honey!" Garlock scrambled out from behind the davenport, +seized her around the waist, and swung her, feet high in air, through +four full circles before he let her down and kissed her vigorously. "You +little _sweetheart_! You're the first living human being ever to really +pull Foster's cork!" + +"_What_ a goat-getting!" James applauded. "That will go down in history +as the star-spangled act of the century." + + * * * + +Belle was, however, unusually diffident. "I stuck my neck out a +mile--worse, Clee's. I'm sorry, Clee. I had to have some weight to throw +around, and I had only a second to think, and that was the first thing I +thought of, and after half a minute she made me so _damn_ mad that I +went entirely too far." + +"Uh-uh. Just far enough. That was a _perfect_ job." + +"But she'll never forget that, and she'll crucify you, as well as me, +when we land. She knows I'm not a commander." + +"She just thinks you ain't. The official log will show, though, that +after only one day out I discovered that we should all be officers--one +captain and three commanders--with pay and perquisites of rank. I'll +think up good and sufficient reasons for it between now and when I make +up the log." + +"But you can't! Or can you, really?" + +"Well, nobody told me I couldn't, so I assumed the right. Besides, you +didn't tell her commander of what, so I'll make it stick, too--see if I +don't. Or else I'll tear two or three offices apart finding out why I +can't. You can be sure of that." + +"All that may not be necessary," Lola said. "That tape will never be +heard. I'll bet she's erased it already." + +"Perhaps; but ours isn't going to be erased--it will be heard exactly +where it will do the most good." + +"I'm awfully glad you don't think we're on the hook. All that's left, +then, is that second-in-command business. Both of you know, of course, +that that was just window-dressing." + +"You were telling the truth and didn't know it," James said, cheerfully. +"You have actually been second-in-command ever since the drive tests." + +"I haven't, and I won't. Surely you don't think I'm enough of a heel, +Jim, to step on your toes like that?" + +"Nothing like that involved. You tell her, Clee." + +"Gunther ability is what counts. You're a Prime, Jim's an Operator; so, +now that we can handle the heap, you'll have to be second-in-command +whether you like it or not. Any time you can out-Gunther me we'll trade +places. And you won't have to take the job away from me--I'll give it to +you." + +"But ... no hard feelings, Jim? No reservations? Screens down?" + +"None whatever. In fact, I'm relieved. I'm Gunthered for this board +here--for that one I'm not. Come in and look; and shake on it." + + * * * + +Belle looked; and while they were shaking hands, she flashed a thought +at Lola. "Do you know that we've got two of the finest men that ever +lived?" + +"I've known that for a long time," Lola flashed back, "but you've hardly +started to realize what they _really_ are." + +"Well, shall we start earning our pay and perquisites by getting to work +on this planet, that we haven't even looked--wait a minute! We're just +about to open up the galaxy, aren't we?" + +They were. + +"Then there'll have to be some kind of a unifying and correlating +authority--a Galactic Council or something--and the quicker it's set up +the better; the less confusion and turmoil and jockeying-for-position +there will be. Question: should this authority be political?" + +"It should _not_!" James declared. "It takes United Worlds seven solid +days of debate to decide whether or not to buy one lead pencil." + +"Military--or naval, I suppose it'd be--that's what Clee's driving at," +Belle said. "You're wonderful, Clee--simply priceless! We're officers of +the brand-new Galactic Navy. Subject to civilian control, of course, but +the civilians will be the United Galaxian Societies of the Galaxy, and +nobody else. _Beautiful_, Clee! There are ten Operators, Jim. Right?" + + * * * + +"Check. Brownie and I are here; the other eight are running the Galaxian +Society under Clee. And the whole Society eats out of his hand." + +"I don't know about that, but Belle and I together could swing it, I +think." + +"I'll say we could," Belle breathed. "And I simply can't wait to see you +kick Fatso's teeth in with _this_ one!" + +"I don't like the word 'Navy'," Garlock said. "It's tied definitely to +warfare. How about calling it the 'Galactic Service'? Applicable to +either war or peace. Brass Hats will think of us in terms of war, even +though we will actually work for peace. Any objections?" + +There were no objections. + +"About the uniforms," Lola said, eagerly. "Space-black and star-white, +with chromium comets and things on the shoulders...." + +"To hell with uniforms," Garlock broke in. "Why do women have to go off +the deep end on clothes?" + +"She's right--you're wrong, Clee," James said. "Without a uniform you +won't get off the ground, not even with the Society. And you'll be +talking to Top Planetary Brass. Also, they're Gunthered plenty--you can +feel their Op field clear out here." + +"Could be," Garlock conceded. "Okay, you girls dope it out to suit +yourselves. But think you can stand it, Belle, to wear more than twelve +square inches of clothes?" + +"Wait 'til you see it, chum. I've been designing a uniform for myself +for positively _years_." + +"I can't wait. And you're a captain, of course." + +"Huh? You can't have two cap.... Oh, I see. Primes. I appreciate that, +Clee. Thanks." + +"Hold on, both of you," James said. "You haven't thought this through +far enough. Suppose we meet forces already organized? Better start high +than low. You've got to be top admiral, Clee." + +"Rocket-oil! Suppose we don't find anything at all?" + +"You're right, Jim," Belle said. "Clee, you talk like a man with a paper +nose. It's _you_ who's been yowling for two solid years about being +ready for _anything_. We've got to do just that." + +"Correction accepted. Brief me." + +"Ranks should be different from those of United Worlds. They should be +descriptive, but impressive. Tops could be Galactic Admiral. That's you. +Vice Galactic Admiral; me...." + +"Galactic Vice Admiral would be better," Lola said. + +"Accepted. Those two we'll make stick come hell or space-warps. Right?" + +Garlock did not reply immediately. "Up to either one of two points," he +agreed, finally. + +"What points?" + +"War, or being out-Gunthered. Top Gunther takes top place; man, woman, +bird, beast, fish, or bug-eyed monster." + +"Oh." Belle was staggered for a moment. "No war, of course. As to the +other ... I hadn't thought of that." + +"There are a lot of things none of us has thought of, but as amended +I'll buy it." + +"Then several Regional Admirals, each with his Regional Vice Admiral. +Then System Admirals and Vices, and World or Planetary--naming the +planet, you know--Admirals and Vices. Let the various Galaxian Societies +take over from there down. How do you like _them_ potatoes, Buster?" + +"Nice. And formal address, intra-ship, will be Mister and Miss. Jim and +Brownie?" + +They liked it. "Where do we fit in?" James asked. + +"Pick your own spots," Garlock said. + +"If we stick to the Solar System we aren't so apt to get bumped by +Primes. So make me Solar System Admiral and Brownie my Vice." + +"Okay. How long will it take you, Belle, to materialize those uniforms?" + +"Fifteen seconds longer than it takes the converter to scan us. Lola's +color scheme is right, and I've got everything else down to the last +curlicue of chrome. Let's go." + + * * * + +They went: and came back into the Main in uniform. Belle had really done +a job. + +That of the men, while something on the spectacular side, was more or +less conventional, with stiff-visored, screened, heavily-chromed caps; +but the women's! Slippers, overseas caps, shorts and jackets--but what +jackets! + +"Well...." Garlock said, after examining the two girls speechlessly for +a good half minute. "It doesn't look _exactly_ like a spray-on job; but +if you ever take a deep breath it'll split from here to there. Fly +off--leave you naked as a jay-bird." + +"Oh, no. The fabric stretches a little. See? Nothing like a sweater, but +a similar effect--perhaps a bit more so." + +"Quite a bit more so, I'd say. However, since Operators and Primes are +automatically stacked like Tennick Towers, I don't suppose your recruits +will be unduly perturbed at, or will squawk too much about, +overexposure. Are we finally ready to go down and get to work?" + +"I am," James said. "How do you want to handle it?" + +"Run a search pattern. Belle and I will center their Op field and check +on Ops and Primes. You two probe at will." + +Around and around the planet, in brief bursts of completely +incomprehensible speed, the huge ship darted; the biggest, solidest, yet +most elusive and fantastic "flying saucer" ever to visit that world. The +tremendous oceans and six great continents were traversed; the ice-caps; +the frigid, the temperate, and the torrid zones. Wherever she went, +powerful and efficient radar scanned and tracked her; wherever she went, +excitement seethed. + +"Beta Centauri Five," Garlock reported, after a few minutes. "Margonia, +they call it. Biggest continent and nation named Nargoda. Capital city +Margon; Margon Base on coast nearby. Lots of Gunther Firsts. All the +real Gunther, though, is clear across the continent. They're building a +starship. Fourteen Ops and two Primes--man and woman. Deggi Delcamp's a +big bruiser, with a God-awful lot of stuff. Ugly as hell, though. He's a +bossy type." + +"I'm amazed," James played it straight. "I thought all male Primes would +be just like you. Timorous Timmies." + +"Huh? Oh...." Garlock was taken slightly aback, but went on quickly, +"What do you think of your opposite number, Belle?" He whistled a +wolf-call and made hour-glass motions with his hands. "I'd thought of +trading you in on a new model, but Fao Talaho is no bargain, either--and +_nobody's_ push-over." + +"_Trade_! You _tomcat_!" Belle's nostrils flared. "You know what that +bleached-blonde tried to do? High-hat _me!_" + +"I noticed. When we four get down to business, face to face, there +should be some interesting by-products." + +"You chirped it, boss. Primes seem to be such _nice_ people." James +rolled his eyes upward and steepled his hands. "If you've got all the +dope, no use finishing this search pattern." + +"Go ahead. Window dressing. The Brass hasn't any idea of what's going +on, any more than ours did." + +The search went on until, "This is it," James reported. "Where? Over +Margon Base?" + +"Check. Kick us over there, ten or twelve hundred miles up." + +"On the way, boss. Looks like your theory is about ready to pick." + +"It isn't much of a theory yet; just that cultural and evolutionary +patterns should be more or less homogeneous within galaxies. Until it +can explain why so many out-galaxies are just alike it doesn't amount to +much. By the way, I'm glad you people insisted on organization and rank +and uniforms. The Brass is going to take a certain amount of convincing. +Take over, Brownie--this is your dish." + +"I was afraid of that." + +The others watched Lola drive her probe--a diamond-clear, razor-sharp +bolt of thought that no Gunther First could possibly either wield or +stop--down into the innermost private office of that immense and +far-flung base. Through Lola's inner eyes they saw a tall, trim, +handsome, fiftyish man in a resplendent uniform of purple and gold; they +watched her brush aside that officer's hard-held mental block. + + * * * + +"I greet you, Supreme Grand Marshal Entlore, Highest Commander of the +Armed Forces of Nargoda. This is the starship _Pleiades_, of System Sol, +Planet Tellus. I am Sol-System Vice-Admiral Lola Montandon. I have with +me as guests three of my superior officers of the Galactic Service, +including the Galactic Admiral himself. We are making a good-will tour +of the Tellus-Type planets of this region of space. I request permission +to land and information as to your landing conventions. The landing +pad--bottom--of the _Pleiades_ is flat; sixty feet wide by one hundred +twenty feet long. Area loading is approximately eight tons per square +foot. Solid, dry ground is perfectly satisfactory. While we land +vertically, with little or no shock impact, I prefer not to risk +damaging your pavement." + +They all felt the Marshal's thoughts race. "Starship! Tellus--Sol, that +insignificant Type G dwarf! Interstellar travel a commonplace! A ship +_that_ size and weight--an organized, uniformed, functioning Galaxy-wide +Navy and they don't want to _damage_ my _pavement_! My God!" + +"Good going, Brownie! Kiss her for me, Jim." Garlock flashed the +thought. + +Entlore, realizing that his every thought was being read, pulled himself +together. "I admit that I was shocked, Admiral Montandon. But +landing--really, I have nothing to do with landings. They are handled +by...." + +"I realize that, sir; but you realize that no underling could possibly +authorize my landing. That is why I always start at the top. Besides, I +do not like to waste time on officers of much lower rank than my own, +and," Lola allowed a strong tinge of good humor to creep into her +thought, "the bigger they are, the less apt they are to pass the +well-known buck." + +"You have had experience, I see," the Marshal laughed. He _did_ have a +sense of humor. "While landing here is forbidden--top secret, you +know--would my refusal mean much to you?" + +"Having made satisfactory contact, I introduce you to Galactic Admiral +Garlock. Take over, sir, please." + + * * * + +Entlore winced, for the probe Garlock used then compared to Lola's very +much as a diamond drill compares to a piece of soft brass pipe. + +"It would mean everything to us," Garlock assured him. "Our mission is a +perfectly friendly one. We will have a friendly visit or none. If you do +not care for our friendship, another nation will." + +"That wouldn't do, either, of course." Entlore paused in thought. "It +boils down to this: I must either welcome you or destroy you." + +"You may try." Garlock grinned in frankly self-satisfied amusement. +"However, the best you can do is lithium-hydride fusion missiles in the +hundreds-of-megatons range. Firecrackers. Every once in a while a planet +has to try a few such things on us before it will believe that we are +powerful as well as friendly. Would you like to test our defenses? If +so, I will neither take offense nor retaliate." + +Supreme Grand Marshal Entlore was floored. "Why ... er ... not at all. I +read in your mind...." He broke off, to quell an invasion into his own +private office. "Damn it, keep _still_!" all four "heard" him yell. "I +know they ran a search pattern. I know _that_, too. I know _everything_ +about it, I tell you! I'm in full rapport with their Supreme Grand +Admiral. There's only the one ship, they're friendly, and I'm inviting +them to land here on Margon Base. Give that to the press. Say also that +entrance restrictions to Margon Base will not be relaxed at present. +Grand Marshal Holson and ComOff Flurnoy, stay here and tune in. The rest +of you get out and _stay_ out! Throw all reports about any alien vessel +or flying saucer or what-have-you into the waste-basket!" + +"Resume command, please, Miss Montandon," Garlock directed; and withdrew +his probe from Entlore's mind. + +"I thank you, Supreme Grand Marshal Entlore, for your welcome," Lola +sent. "I'm sorry that our visits cause so much disturbance, but I +suppose it can't be helped. Our Gunther blocks are down. Would you and +your two assistants like to teleport out here to us, and con us down +yourselves?" Lola knew instantly that they could not, and covered deftly +for them. "But of course you can't, without knowing a focus spot here in +the Main. Shall I teleport you aboard?" + + * * * + +ComOff Flurnoy's face--she was an attractive, nicely-built red-head +wearing throat-mike, earphone, and recorder--turned so pale that a faint +line of freckles stood out across the bridge of her nose. She very +evidently wanted to scream a protest, but would not. Both men, strangely +enough, were eager to go. Instantly all three were standing in line on +the deep-piled rug of the Main, facing the four Tellurians. Seven bodies +came rigidly to attention, seven right hands snapped into two varieties +of formal salute. Standing thus, each party studied the other for a +couple of seconds. + +There was no doubt at all as to which two of the visitors the two +Nargodian men were studying; but neither of them could quite make up his +mind as to which of the black-and-white-clad women to study first or +most. The red-head's glance, too, flickered between Belle and +Garlock--incredulous envy and equally incredulous admiration lit her +eyes. + +"At rest, please, fellow-officers," Garlock said, and Lola performed the +necessary introductions, adding, "We do not, however, use titles aboard +ship. Mister and Miss are customary and sufficient." + +Behind each row of officers a long davenport appeared; between them a +table loaded with sandwiches, olives, pickles, relishes, fruits, nuts, +soft drinks, cigars, and cigarettes. + +"Help yourselves," Garlock invited. "We serve neither intoxicants nor +drugs, but you should find something there to your taste." + +"Indeed we shall, and thank you," Entlore said. "Is there any objection, +Mr. Garlock, to Miss Flurnoy transmitting information of this meeting +and of this ship to our base?" + +"None whatever. Send as you please, Miss Flurnoy, or as Mr. Entlore +directs." + +"I'm glad I didn't quite scare myself out of coming up here," the +Communications Officer said. "This is the biggest and nicest thrill I +ever had. Such a thrill that I don't know just where to begin." She +cocked an eyebrow at her commanding officer. + +"As usual. Whatever you think should be sent." Entlore sent her a +steadying thought. Then, as the girl settled back with a sandwich in one +hand and a tall glass of ginger-ale in the other, he went on, to +Garlock, "She is a very fine and very strong telepath--by our standards, +at least." + +"By galactic standards also." Garlock had of course been checking. +"Accurate, sharp, wide-range, clear-thinking, and fast. Not one of us +four could do it any better." + +"I thank you, Mr. Garlock," the girl said, with a blush of pleasure--and +with scarcely a perceptible pause in her work. + + * * * + +A tour of the ship followed; and as it progressed, the more confused and +dismayed the two Nargodian commanders became. + +"But no crew at _all_?" Holson demanded incredulously. "How can a thing +like this _possibly_ work?" + +"It's fully Gunthered," Lola explained. "It works itself. That is, +almost all the time. Whenever we land on any planet for the first time, +one of us has to control it. Or for any other special job not in its +memory banks. When you're ready for us to land I'll show you--it's my +turn to work." + +"Miss Flurnoy, have they cleared the air over Pylon Six?" + +"Yes, sir. Clearance came through five minutes ago. They are holding it +clear for us." + +"Thank you. Miss Montandon, you may land at your convenience." + +"Thank you, sir." Lola took the pilot's chair. "This is the scanner. I +pull it over my face and head, so. Since I am always in tune with the +field...." + +"What does _that_ mean?" Entlore asked, dark foreboding in his mind. + +"I was afraid of that. You can't feel an Operator Field. I'm sorry, sir, +but that means you can't handle these forces and never will be able to. +Certain Gunther areas of your brain are inoperative. On our scale you +are a Gunther First...." + +"On ours, I'm an Esper Ten, the highest rating in the world--except for +a few theoretical crackpots who.... Excuse me, please, I shouldn't have +said that, in view of what I see happening here." + +"No offense taken, sir. Those who developed the Gunther Drive were +crackpots until they got the first starship out into space. But with +this scanner on, I think of where I want to look and I can see it. I +then think the ship a few miles sidewise--so--and we are now directly +over your Pylon Six. I'm starting down, but I won't go into free fall." + +Apparent weight grew less and less, until: "This is about enough for +you, Miss Flurnoy?" + +"Just," the ComOff agreed, with a gulp. "One pound less and I'm afraid +I'll upchuck that lovely lunch I just ate." + +"We're going fast enough now. Everyone sitting down? Brace yourselves, +please. You'll be about fifty percent overweight for a while." + + * * * + +As bodies settled deeper into cushions Entlore sent Garlock a +thought. "We three weigh about five hundred pounds. You lifted +us--instantaneously or nearly so, but I'll pass the question of +acceleration for the moment--eleven hundred miles straight up. How did +you repeal the Law of Conservation?" + +"We didn't. We have fusion engines of twenty million horsepower. Our +Operator Field, which has a radius of fifteen thousand miles and is +charged to an electrogravitic potential of one hundred thousand gunts, +stores energy. Its action is not exactly like that of an electrical +condenser or of a storage battery, but is more or less analogous to +both. Thus, the energy required to lift you three came from the field, +but the amount was so small that it did not lower the potential of the +field by any measurable amount. Setting this ship down--call it sixty +thousand tons for a thousand miles at one gravity--will increase the +field's potential by approximately one-tenth of one gunt. Have you +studied paraphysics?" + +"No." + +"It wasn't practical, eh?" Garlock smiled. "Then I can't make even a +stab at explaining instantaneous translation to you. I'll just say that +there is no acceleration involved, no time lapse. There is no violation +of the Law of Conservation since departure and arrival points are +equi-Guntherial. But what I am really interested in is that small group +of high espers you mentioned." + +"Yes, I inferred that from Miss Montandon's comments." Entlore fell +silent and Garlock watched his somber thoughts picture Margon Base and +his nation's capital being attacked and destroyed by a fleet of +invincible and invulnerable starships like this _Pleiades_. + +"You are wrong, sir," Garlock put in, quietly. "The Galactic Service has +not had, does not and will not have, anything to do with intra-planetary +affairs. We have no connection with, and no responsibility to, any world +or any group of worlds. We are an arm of the United Galaxian Societies +of the Galaxy. Our function is to control space. To forbid, to prevent, +to rectify any interplanetary or interstellar aggression. Above all, to +prevent, by means of procedures up to and including total destruction of +planets if necessary, any attempt whatever to form any multi-world +empire." + +The three Nargodians gasped as one, as much at the scope of the thing as +at the calmly cold certainty of ability carried by the thought. + +"You are transmitting this precisely, Miss Flurnoy?" Entlore asked. + +"Precisely, sir; including background, fringes, connotations, and +implications; just as he is giving it to us." + +"Let us assume that your Nargodian government decides to conquer all the +other nations of your planet Margonia. Assume farther that it succeeds. +We will not object; in fact, we will, as a usual thing, not even be +informed of it. If then, however, your government decides that one world +is not enough for it to rule and prepares to conquer, or take aggressive +action against, any other world, we will be informed and we will step +in. First, warning will be given. Second, any and all vessels dispatched +on such a mission will be annihilated. Third, if the offense is +continued or repeated, trial will be held before the Galactic Council +and any sentence imposed will be carried out." + +In spite of Garlock's manner and message, both marshals were highly +relieved. "You're in plenty of time, with us, sir," Entlore said. "We +have just sent our first rocket to our nearer moon ... that is, unless +that group of--of espers gets their ship off the ground." + +"How far along are they?" + +"The ship itself is built, but they are having trouble with their drive. +The hull is spherical, and much smaller than this one. It has atomic +engines, but no blasts or ion-plates ... but neither has this one!" + +"Exactly; they may be pretty well along. I'd like to get in touch with +them as soon as possible. May I borrow a 'talker' like Miss Flurnoy for +a few days? You have others, I suppose?" + +"Yes, but I'll let you have her; it is of the essence that you have the +best one available. Miss Flurnoy?" + +"Yes, sir?" Besides reporting, she had been conversing busily with James +and Belle. + +"Would you like to be assigned to Mr. Garlock for the duration of his +stay on Margonia?" + +"Oh, _yes_, sir!" she replied, excitedly. + +"You are so assigned. Take orders from him or from any designate as +though I myself were issuing them." + +"Thank you, sir ... but what limits? And do I transmit to and/or record +for you, sir?" + +"No limit. These four Galaxians are hereby granted nation-wide top +clearance. Transmit as usual whatever is permitted." + +"Full reporting is not only permitted, but urged," Garlock said. "There +is nothing secret about our mission." + + * * * + +As the _Pleiades_ landed: "If you will give us your focus spot, Mr. +Entlore, we can all 'port to your office and save calling staff cars." + +"And cause a revolution?" Entlore laughed. "Apparently you haven't been +checking outside." + +"Afraid I haven't. I've been thinking." + +"Take a look. I got orders from the Cabinet to put guards wherever +people absolutely must not go, and open everything else to the public. I +_hope_ there are enough guards to keep a lane open for us, but I +wouldn't bet on it." Garlock was very glad that the military men's stiff +formality had disappeared. "You Galaxians took this whole planet by +storm while you were still above the stratosphere." + + * * * + +There is no need to go into detail concerning the reception and +celebration. On Earth, one inauguration of a president and one +coronation of a monarch were each almost as well covered by +broadcasters, if not as turbulently and enthusiastically prolonged. From +the _Pleiades_ they went to the Administration Building, where an +informal reception was held. Thence to the Capitol, where the reception +was very formal indeed. Thence to the Grand Ballroom of the city's +largest hotel, where a tremendous--and long-winded--banquet was served. + +At Garlock's request, all sixteen members of the "crackpot" group--the +most active members of the Deep Space Club--had been invited to the +banquet. And, even though Garlock was a very busy man, his talker tuned +in to each one of the sixteen, tuned them all to the Galactic Admiral, +and in odd moments a great deal of business was done. + +After being told most of the story--in tight-beamed thoughts that ComOff +Flurnoy could not receive--the whole group was wildly enthusiastic. They +would change the name of their club forthwith to The Galaxian Society Of +Margonia. They laid plans for a world-wide organization which would have +tremendous prestige and tremendous income. They already had a +field--Garlock knew about their ship--they wanted the _Pleiades_ to move +over to it as soon as possible--Yes, Garlock thought he could do it the +following day--if not, as soon as he could.... + + * * * + +The _Pleiades_ had landed at ten o'clock in the forenoon, local time; +the banquet did not come to an end until long after midnight. Throughout +all this time the four Galaxians carried on, without a slip, the act +that all this was, to them, old stuff. + +It was just a little before daylight when they returned, exhausted, to +the ship. ComOff Flurnoy went with them. She was still agog at the +wonder of it all as Belle and Brownie showed her to her quarters. + + + + +CHAPTER 7 + + +Since everyone, including the ebullient ComOff, slept late the following +morning, they all had brunch instead of breakfast and lunch. All during +the meal Garlock was preoccupied and stern. + +"Hold everything for a while, Jim," he said, when everyone had eaten. +"Before we move, Belle and I have got to have a conference." + +"Not a Fatso Ferber nine-o'clock type, I hope." James frowned in mock +reproach and ComOff Flurnoy cocked an eyebrow in surprise. +"Monkey-business on company time is only for Big Shots like him; not for +small fry such as you." + +"Well, it won't be exclusively monkey-business, anyway. While we're gone +you might clear with the control tower and take us up into take-off +position. Come on, Belle." He took her by one elbow and led her away. + +"Why, _Doctor Garlock_." Mincing along beside him, pretending high +reluctance, she looked up at him wide-eyed. "I'm _surprised_, I really +am. I'm _shocked_, too. I'm _not_ that kind of a _girl_, and if I wasn't +_afraid_ of losing my _job_ I would _scream_. I _never_ even _suspected_ +that _you_ would use your _position_ as my _boss_ to _force_ your +_unwelcome attentions_ on a _poor_ and _young_ and _innocent_ and +_suffering_...." + + [Illustration: + + In an unparalleled blast of Gunther power the primes of + many worlds head toward the meeting on Tellus.] + +Inside his room Garlock, who had been grinning, sobered down and checked +every Gunther block--a most unusual proceeding. + + * * * + +Belle stopped joking in the middle of the sentence. + +"Yeah, _how_ you suffer," he said. "I was just checking to be sure we're +prime-proof. I'm not ready for Deggi Delcamp yet. That guy, Belle, as +you probably noticed, has got one God-awful load of stuff." + +"Not as much as you have, Clee. Nor as much push behind what he has got. +And his shield wouldn't make patches for yours." + +"Huh? How sure are you of that?" + +"I'm positive. I'm the one who is going to get bumped, I'm afraid. That +Fao Talaho is a hard-hitting, hard-boiled hellcat on wheels." + +"I'll be damned. You're wrong. I checked her from stem to gudgeon and +you lay over her like a circus tent. What's the answer?" + +"Oh? Do I? I'm mighty glad ... funny, both of us being wrong ... it must +be, Clee, that it's sex-based differences. We're used to each other, but +neither of us has ever felt a Prime of the same sex before, and there +must be more difference between Ops and Primes than we realized. +Suppose?" + +"Could be--I hope. But that doesn't change the fact that we aren't +ready. We haven't got enough data. If we start out with this grandiose +Galactic Service thing and find only two or three planets Gunthered, we +make jackasses of ourselves. On the other hand, if we start out with a +small organization or none, and find a lot of planets, it'll be one +continuous cat-fight. On the third hand...." + +"Three hands, Clee? What are you, an octopussy or an Arpalone?" + +"Keep your beautiful trap shut a minute. On the third hand, we've _got_ +to start somewhere. Any ideas?" + +"I never thought of it that way.... Hm-m-m-m ... I see." She thought for +a minute, then went on, "We'll have to start without starting, then ... +quite a trick.... But how about this? Suppose we take a fast tour, with +you and I taking quick peeks, without the peekees ever knowing we've +been peeking?" + +"That's using the brain, Belle. Let's go." Then, out in the Main, "Jim, +we want to hit a few high spots, as far out as you can reach without +losing orientation. Beta Centauri here is pretty bright, Rigel and +Canopus are real lanterns. With those three as a grid, you could reach +fifteen hundred or two thousand light-years, couldn't you?" + +"More than that. That many parsecs, at least." + +"Good. Belle and I want to make a fast, random-sampling check of Primes +and Ops around here. We'll need five minutes at each planet--quite a +ways out. So set up as big a globe as you can and still be dead sure of +your locations; then sample it." + +"Not enough data. How many samples do you want?" + +"As many as we can get in the rest of today. Six or seven hours, +say--eight hours max." + +"Call it seven.... Brownie on the guns, me on Compy.... Five minutes for +you.... I should be able to lock down the next shot in five ... one +minute extra, say, for safety factor ... that'd be ten an hour. Seventy +planets enough?" + +"That'll be fine." + +"Okay. We're practically at Number One now," and James and Lola donned +their scanners, ready for the job. + + * * * + +"Miss Flurnoy," Garlock said, "you might tell Mr. Entlore that +we're...." + +"Oh, I already have, sir." + +"You don't have to come along, of course, if you'd rather stay here." + +"Stay here, sir? Why, he'd _kill_ me! I'm off the air for a minute," +this last thought was a conspiratorial whisper. "Besides, do you think +I'd miss a chance to be the first person--and just a girl, too--of a +whole world to see other planets of other suns? Unless, of course, you +invite Mr. Entlore and Mr. Holson along. They're both simply dying to +go, I know, but of course won't admit it." + +"You'd be just as well pleased if I didn't?" + +"What do you think, sir?" + +"We'll be working at top speed and they'd be very much in the way, so +they'll get theirs later--after you've licked the cream off the top of +the...." + +"Ready to roll, Clee," James announced. + +"Roll." + +"Why, I lost contact!" Miss Flurnoy exclaimed. + +"Naturally," Garlock said. "Did you expect to cover a distance it takes +light thousands of years to cross? You can record anything you see in +the plates. You can talk to Jim or Lola any time they'll let you. Don't +bother Miss Bellamy or me from now on." + +Garlock and Belle went to work. All four Galaxians worked all day, with +half an hour off for lunch. They visited seventy planets and got back to +Margonia in time for a very late dinner. ComOff Flurnoy had less than a +quarter of one roll of recorder-tape left unused, and the Primes had +enough information to start the project they had in mind. + +And shortly after dinner, all five retired. + +"In one way, Clee, I'm relieved," Belle pondered, "but I can't figure +out why all the Primes--the grown-up ones, I mean--on all the worlds are +just about the same cantankerous, you-be-damned, out-and-out stinkers as +you and I are. How does _that_ fit into your theory?" + +"It doesn't. Too fine a detail. My guess is--at least it seems to me to +make sense--it's because we haven't had any competition strong enough to +smack us down and make Christians out of us. I don't know what a +psychologist would say...." + +"And I know _exactly_ what you'd think of whatever he did say, so you +don't need to tell me." Belle laughed and presented her lips to be +kissed. "Good night, Clee." + +"Good night, ace." + + * * * + +And the next morning, early, Garlock and Belle teleported themselves--by +arrangement and appointment, of course--across almost the full width of +a nation and into the private office in which Deggi Delcamp and Fao +Talaho awaited them. + +For a time which would not have been considered polite in Tellurian +social circles the four Primes stood still, each couple facing the other +with blocks set tight, studying each other with their eyes. Delcamp was, +as Garlock had said, a big bruiser. He was shorter and heavier than the +Tellurian. Heavily muscled, splendidly proportioned, he was a man of +tremendous physical as well as mental strength. His hair, clipped close +all over his head, was blonde; his eyes were a clear, keen, cold dark +blue. + +Fao Talaho was a couple of inches shorter than Belle; and a good fifteen +pounds heavier. She was in no sense fat, however, or even +plump--actually, she was almost lean. She was wider and thicker than was +the Earthwoman; with heavier bones forming a wider and deeper frame. +She, too, was beautifully--yes, spectacularly--built. Her hair, fully as +thick as Belle's own and worn in a free-falling bob three or four inches +longer than Belle's, was bleached almost white. Her eyes were not really +speckled, nor really mottled, but were regularly _patterned_ in lighter +and darker shades of hazel. She was, Garlock decided, a really +remarkable hunk of woman. + +Both Nargodians wore sandals without either socks or stockings. Both +were dressed--insofar as they were dressed at all--in yellow. Fao's +single garment was of a thin, closely-knitted fabric, elastic and sleek. +Above the waist it was neckless, backless, and almost frontless; below, +it was a very short, very tight and clinging skirt. Delcamp wore a +sleeveless jersey and a pair of almost legless shorts. + +Garlock lowered his shield enough to send and to receive a thin layer of +superficial thought; Delcamp did the same. + +"So far, I like what I see," Garlock said then. "We are well ahead of +you, hence I can help you a lot if you want me to and if you want to be +friendly about it. If you don't, on either count, we leave now. Fair +enough?" + +"Fair enough. I, too, like what I have seen so far. We need help, and I +appreciate your offer. Thanks, immensely. I can promise full cooperation +and friendship for myself and for most of our group; and I assure you +that I can and will handle any non-cooperation that may come up." + +"Nicely put, Deggi." Garlock smiled broadly and let his guard down to a +comfortable lepping level. "I was going to bring that up--the faster +it's cleared the better. Belle and I are paired. Some day--unless we +kill each other first--we may marry. However, I'm no bargain and she's +one-third wildcat, one-third vixen, and one-third cobra. How do you two +stand?" + +"You took the thought right out of my own mind. Your custom of pairing +is not what you call 'urbane' on this world. Nevertheless, Fao and I are +paired. We had to. No one else has ever interested either of us; no one +else ever will. We should not fight, but we do, furiously. But no matter +how vigorously we fly apart, we inevitably fly together again just as +fast. No one understands it, but you two are pretty much the same." + +"Check. Just one more condition, then, and we can pull those women of +ours apart." Belle and Fao were still staring at each other, both still +sealed tight. "The first time Fao Talaho starts throwing her weight at +me, I'm not going to wait for you to take care of her--I'm going to give +her the surprise of her life." + +"It'd tickle me silly if it could be done," Delcamp smiled and was +perfectly frank, "But the man doesn't live that can do it. How would you +go about trying it?" + +"Set your block solid." + +Delcamp did so, and through that block--the supposedly impenetrable +shield of a Prime Operator--Garlock insinuated a probe. He did not crack +the screen or break it down by force; he neutralized and counter-phased, +painlessly and almost imperceptibly, its every component and layer. + + * * * + +"Like this," Garlock said, in the depths of the Margonian's mind. + +"My God! You can do _that_?" + +"If I tell her, this deep, to play ball or else, do you think she'd need +two treatments?" + +"She certainly oughtn't to. This makes you Galactic Admiral, no +question. I'd thought, of course, of trying you out for Top Gunther, but +this settles that. We will support you, sir, wholeheartedly--and my +heartfelt thanks for coming here." + +"I have your permission, then, to give Fao a little discipline when she +starts rocking the boat?" + +"I wish you would, sir. I'm not too easy to get along with, I admit, but +I've tried to meet her a lot more than half-way. She's just too damned +cocky for _anybody's_ good." + +"Check. I wish somebody would come along who could knock hell out of +Belle." Then, aloud, "Belle, Delcamp and I have the thing going. Do you +want in on it?" + +Delcamp spoke to Fao, and the two women slowly, reluctantly, lowered +their shields to match those of the men. + +"Your Galaxian shaking of the hands--handshake, I mean--is very good," +Delcamp said, and he and Garlock shook vigorously. + +Then the crossed pairs, and lastly the two girls--although neither put +much effort into the gesture. + +"Snap out of it, Belle!" Garlock sent a tight-beamed thought. "She isn't +going to bite you!" + +"She's been trying to, damn her, and I'm going to bite her right +back--see if I don't." + + * * * + +Garlock called the meeting to order and all four sat down. The +Tellurians lighted cigarettes and the others--who, to the Earthlings' +surprise, also smoked--assembled and lit two peculiar-looking things +half-way between pipe and cigarette. And both pairs of smokers, after a +few tentative tests, agreed in not liking at all the other's taste in +tobacco. + +"You know, of course, of the trip we took yesterday?" Garlock asked. + +"Yes," Delcamp admitted. "We read ComOff Flurnoy. We know of the seventy +planets, but nothing of what you found." + +"Okay. Of the seventy planets, all have Op fields and all have two or +more Operators; one planet has forty-four of them. Only sixty-one of the +planets, however, have Primes old enough for us to detect. Each of these +worlds has two, and only two, Primes--one male and one female--and on +each world the two Primes are of approximately the same age. On fifteen +of these worlds the Primes are not yet adult. On the forty-six remaining +worlds, the Primes are young adults, from pretty much like us four down +to considerably younger. None of these couples is married-for-family. +None of the girls has as yet had a child or is now pregnant. + +"Now as to the information circulating all over this planet about us. +Part of it is false. Part of it is misleading--to impress the military +mind. Thus, the fact is that the _Pleiades_, as far as we know, is the +only starship in the whole galaxy. Also, the information is very +incomplete, especially as to the all-important fact that we were lost in +space for some time before we discovered that the only possible +controller of the Gunther Drive is the human mind...." + +"_What!!!!_" and argument raged until Garlock stopped it by declaring +that he would prove it in the Margonians' own ship. + +Then Garlock and Belle together went on to explain and to describe--not +even hinting, of course, that they had ever been outside the galaxy or +had even thought of trying to do so--their concept of what the Galaxian +Societies of the Galaxy would and should do; or what the Galaxian +Service could, should, and _would_ become--the Service to which they +both intended to devote their lives. It wasn't even in existence yet, of +course. Fao and Deggi were the only other Primes they had ever talked to +in their lives. That was why they were so eager to help the Margonians +get their ship built. The more starships there were at work, the faster +the Service would grow into a really tremendous.... + +"_Fao's getting ready to blow her top_," Delcamp flashed Garlock a +tight-beamed thought. "_If I were doing it I'd have to start right +now._" + + * * * + +"_I'll let her work up a full head of steam, then smack her +bow-legged._" + +"_Cheers, brother! I hope you can handle her!_" + +... organization. Then, when enough ships were working and enough +Galaxian Societies were rolling, there would be the Regional +organizations and the Galactic Council.... + +"So, on a one-planet basis and right out of your own little fat head," +Fao sneered, "you have set yourself up as Grand High Chief Mogul, and +all the rest of us are to crawl up to you on our bellies and kiss your +feet?" + +"If that's the way you want to express it, yes. However, I don't know +how long I personally will be in the pilot's bucket. As I told you, I +will enforce the basic tenet that top Gunther is top boss--man, woman, +snake, fish, or monster." + +"Top Gunther be damned!" Fao blazed. "I don't and won't take orders from +_any_ man--in hell or in heaven or on this Earth or on any planet of +any...." + +"Fao!" Delcamp exclaimed, "Please keep still--_please_!" + +"Let her rave," Garlock said, coldly. "This is just a three-year-old +baby's tantrum. If she keeps it up, I'll give her the damnedest jolt she +ever got in all her spoiled life." + +Belle whistled sharply to call Fao's attention, then tight-beamed a +thought. "If you've got any part of a brain, slick chick, you'd better +start using it. The boy friend not only plays rough, but he doesn't +bluff." + +"To hell with all that!" Fao rushed on. "We don't have anything to do +with your organization--go on back home or anywhere else you want to. +We'll finish our own ship and build our own organization and run it to +suit ourselves. We'll...." + +"That's enough of that." Garlock penetrated her shield as easily as he +had the man's, and held her in lock. "You are _not_ going to wreck this +project. You will start behaving yourself right now or I'll spread your +mind wide open for Belle and Deggi to look at and see exactly what kind +of a half-baked jerk you are. If that doesn't work, I'll put you into a +Gunther-blocked cell aboard the _Pleiades_ and keep you there until the +ship is finished and we leave Margonia. How do you want it?" + +Fao was shocked as she had never been shocked before. At first she tried +viciously to fight; but, finding that useless against the appalling +power of the mind holding hers, she stopped struggling and began really +to think. + +"That's better. You've got what it takes to think with. Go ahead and do +it." + +And Fao Talaho did have it. Plenty of it. She learned. + +"I'll be good," she said, finally. "Honestly. I'm ashamed, really, but +after I got started I couldn't stop. But I can now, I'm sure." + +"I'm sure you can, too. I know exactly how it is. All us Primes have to +get hell knocked out of us before we amount to a whoop in Hades. Deggi +got his one way, I got mine another, you got yours this way. No, neither +of the others knows anything about this conversation and they won't. +This is strictly between you and me." + +"I'm awfully glad of that. And I think I ... yes, damn you, thanks!" + +Garlock released her and, after a few sobs, a couple of gulps, and a +dabbing at her eyes with an inadequate handkerchief, she said: "I'm +sorry, Deggi, and you, too, Belle. I'll try not to act like such a fool +any more." + +Delcamp and Belle both stared at Garlock; Belle licked her lips. + +"No comment," he thought at the man; and, to Belle, "She just took a +beating. Will you sheathe your claws and take a lot of pains to be extra +nice to her the rest of the day?" + +"Why, surely. I'm _always_ nice to anybody who is nice to me." + +"Says you," Garlock replied, skeptically, and all four went to work as +though nothing had happened. + + * * * + +They went through the shops and the almost-finished ship. They studied +blueprints. They met all the Operators and discussed generators and +fields of force and mathematics and paraphysics and Guntherics. They +argued so hotly about mental control that Garlock had James bring the +_Pleiades_ over to new-christened Galaxian Field so that he could prove +his point then and there. + +Entlore and Holson came along this time, as well as the ComOff; and all +three were nonplussed and surprised to see each member of the "crackpot" +group hurl the huge starship from one solar system to any other one +desired, apparently merely by thinking about it. And the "crackpots" +were extremely surprised to find themselves hopelessly lost in uncharted +galactic wildernesses every time they did not think, definitely and +positively, of one specific destination. Then Garlock took a chance. He +had to take it sometime; he might just as well do it now. + +"See if you can hit Andromeda, Deggi," he suggested. + +While Belle, James, and Lola held their breaths, Delcamp tried. The +starship went toward the huge nebula, but stopped at the last suitable +planet on the galaxy's rim. + +"Can _you_ hit Andromeda?" Delcamp asked, more than half jealously, and +Belle tensed her muscles. + +"Never tried it," Garlock said, easily. "I suppose, though, since you +couldn't kick the old girl out of our good old home galaxy, she'll just +sit right here for me, too." + +He went through the motions and the _Pleiades_ did sit right +there--which was exactly what he had told her to do. And everybody--even +the "crackpots"--breathed more easily. + + * * * + +And Belle was "nice" to Fao; she didn't use her claws, even once, all +day. And, just before quitting time-- + +"Does he ... I mean, did he ever ... well, sort of knock you around?" +Fao asked. + +"I'll say he hasn't!" Belle's nostrils flared slightly at the mere +thought. "I'd stick a knife into him, the big jerk." + +"Oh, I didn't mean physically...." + +"Through my blocks? A _Prime's_ blocks? Don't be ridiculous, Fao!" + +"What do you mean, 'ridiculous'?" Fao snapped. "You tried _my_ blocks. +What did they feel like to you--mosquito netting? What I thought was.... +Oh, all he really said was that all Primes had to have hell knocked out +of them before they could be any good. That he had had it one way, Deggi +another, and me a third. I see--you haven't had yours yet." + +"I certainly haven't. And if he ever tries it, I'll...." + +"Oh, he won't. He couldn't, very well, because after you're married, it +would...." + +"Did the big lug tell you I was going to marry him?" + +"Of course not. No fringes, even. But who else are you going to marry? +If the whole universe was clear full of the finest men imaginable--pure +dreamboats, no less--can you even conceive of you marrying any one of +them except him?" + +"I'm not going to marry anybody. Ever." + +"No? You, with your Prime's mind and your Prime's body, not have any +children? And you tell _me_ not to be ridiculous?" + +That stopped Belle cold, but she wouldn't admit it. Instead--"I don't +get it. What did he _do_ to you, anyway?" + +Fao's block set itself so tight that it took her a full minute to soften +it down enough for even the thinnest thought to get through. "That's +something nobody will ever know. But anyway, unless ... unless you find +another Prime as strong as Clee is--and I don't really think there are +any, do you?" + +"Of course there aren't. There's only one of his class, anywhere. He's +it," Belle said, with profound conviction. + +"That makes it tough for you. You'll have the toughest job imaginable. +The _very_ toughest. I know." + +"Huh? What job?" + +"Since Clee won't do it for you, and since nobody else can, you'll have +to just simply knock hell out of yourself." + +And in Garlock's room that night, getting ready for bed, Belle asked +suddenly, "Clee, what in hell did you do to Fao Talaho?" + +"Nothing much. She's a mighty good egg, really." + +"Could you do it, whatever it was, to me?" + +"I don't know; I never tried it." + +"_Would_ you, then, if I asked you to?" + +"No." + +"Why not?" + +"Answer that yourself." + +"And it was 'nothing much,' it says here in fine print. But I think I +know just about what it was. Don't I?" + +"I wouldn't be surprised." + +"You knocked hell out of yourself, didn't you?" + +"I lied to her about that. I'm still trying to." + +"So I've got to do it to myself. And I haven't started yet?" + +"Check. But you're several years younger than I am, you know." + + * * * + +Belle thought it over for a minute, then stubbed out her cigarette and +shrugged her shoulders. "No sale. Put it back on the shelf. I like me +better the way I am. That is, I _think_ I do.... In a way, though, I'm +sorry, Clee darling." + +"Darling? Something new has been added. I wish you really meant that, +ace." + +"I'm still 'ace' after what I just said? I'm glad, Clee. 'Ace' is ever +so much nicer than 'chum.'" + +"Ace. The top of the deck. You are, and always will be." + +"As for meaning it, I wish I didn't." Ready for bed, Belle was much more +completely and much less revealingly dressed than during her working +hours. She slid into bed beside him, pulled the covers up to her chin, +and turned off the light by glancing at the switch. "If I thought +anything could ever come of it, though, I'd do it if I had to pound +myself unconscious with a club. But I wouldn't be here, then, +either--I'd scoot into my own room so fast my head would spin." + +"You wouldn't have to. You wouldn't be here." + +"I wouldn't, at that. That's one of the things I like so much about you. +But honestly, Clee--seriously, screens-down honestly--can you see any +possible future in it?" + +"No. Neither of us would give that much. Neither of us can. And there's +nothing one-sided about it; I'm no more fit to be a husband than you are +to be a wife. And God help our children--they'd certainly need it." + +"We'd never have any. I can't picture us living in marriage for nine +months without committing at least mayhem. Why, in just the little time +we've been paired, how many times have you thrown me out of this very +room, with the fervent hope that I'd drown in deep space before you ever +saw me again?" + +"At a guess, about the same number of times as you have stormed out +under your own power, slamming the door so hard it sprung half the seams +of the ship and swearing you'd slice me up into sandwich meat if I ever +so much as looked at you again." + +"That's what I mean. But how come we got off on _this_ subject, I +wonder? Because when we aren't fighting, like now, it's purely +wonderful. So I'll say it again. Good night, Clee, darling." + +"Good night, ace." In the dark his lips sought hers and found them. + +The fervor of her kiss was not only much more intense than any he had +ever felt before. It was much, very much more intense than Belle Bellamy +had either wanted it or intended it to be. + + * * * + +Next morning, at the workman's hour of eight o'clock, the four +Tellurians appeared in the office of Margonia's Galaxian Field. + +"The first thing to do, Deggi, is to go over in detail your blueprints +for the generators and the drive," Garlock said. + +"I suppose so. The funny pictures, eh?" Delcamp had learned much, the +previous day; his own performance with the _Pleiades_ had humbled him +markedly. + +"By no means, my friend," Garlock said, cheerfully. "While your stuff +isn't exactly like ours--it couldn't be, hardly; the field is so big and +so new--that alone is no reason for it not to work. James can tell you. +He's the Solar System's top engineer. What do you think, Jim?" + +"What I saw in the ship yesterday will work. What few of the prints I +saw yesterday will fabricate, and the fabrications will work. The main +trouble with this project, it seems to me, is that nobody's building the +ship." + +"What do you mean by _that_ crack?" Fao blazed. + +"Just that. You're a bunch of prima donnas; each doing exactly as he +pleases. So some of the stuff is getting done three or four times, in +three or four different ways, while a lot of it isn't getting done at +all." + +"Such as?" Delcamp demanded, and-- + +"Well, if you don't like the way we are doing things you can...." Fao +began. + +"Just a minute, everybody." Lola came in, with a disarming grin. "How +much of that is hindsight, Jim? You've built one, you know--and from all +accounts, progress wasn't nearly as smooth as your story can be taken to +indicate." + +"You've got a point there, Lola," Garlock agreed. "We slid back two +steps for every three we took forward." + +"Well ... maybe," James admitted. + +"So why don't you, Fao and Deggi, put Jim in charge of construction?" + +Fao threw back her silvery head and glared, but Delcamp jumped at the +chance. "Would you, Jim?" + +"Sure--unless Miss Talaho objects." + +"She won't." Delcamp's eyes locked with Fao's, and Fao kept still. +"Thanks immensely, Jim. And I know what you mean." He went over to a +cabinet of wide, flat drawers and brought back a sheaf of drawings. Not +blueprints, but original drawings in pencil. "Such as this. I haven't +even got it designed yet, to say nothing of building it." + + * * * + +James began to leaf through the stack of drawings. They were full of +erasures, re-drawings, and such notations as "See sheets 17-B, 21-A, and +27-F." Halfway through the pile he paused, turned backward three sheets, +and studied for minutes. Then, holding that one sheet by a corner, he +went rapidly through the rest of the stack. + +"This is it," he said then, pulling the one sheet out and spreading it +flat. "What we call Unit Eight--the heart of the drive." Then, +tight-beamed to Garlock: + +"This is the thing that you designed _in toto_ and that I never could +understand any part of. All I did was build it. It must generate those +Prime fields." + +"Probably," Garlock flashed back. "I didn't understand it any too well +myself. How does it look?" + +"He isn't even close. He's got only half of the constants down, and half +of the ones he has got down are wrong. Look at this mess here...." + +"I'll take your word for it. I haven't your affinity for blueprints, you +know, or your eidetic memory for them." + +"Do you want me to give him the whole works?" + +"We'll have to, I think. Or the ship might not work at all." + +"Could be--but how about intergalactic hops?" + +"He couldn't do it with the _Pleiades_, so he won't be able to with +this. Besides, if we change it in any particular he _might_. You see, I +don't know very much more about Unit Eight than you do." + +"_That_ could be, too." Then, as though just emerging from his +concentration on the drawings, James thought at Delcamp and Fao, but on +the open, general band. + +"A good many errors and a lot of blanks, but in general you're on the +right track. I can finish up this drawing in a couple of hours, and we +can build the unit in a couple of days. With that in place, the rest of +the ship will go fast. + +"_If_ Miss Talaho wants me to," he concluded, pointedly. + +"Oh, I do, Jim--really I do!" At long last, stiff-backed Fao softened +and bent. She seized both his hands. "If you can, it'd be too wonderful +for words!" + +"Okay. One question. Why are you building your ship so small?" + +"Why, it's plenty big enough for two," Delcamp said. "For four, in a +pinch. Why did you make yours so big? Your Main is big enough almost for +a convention hall." + +"That's what we figured it might have to be, at times," Garlock said. +"But that's a very minor point. With yours so nearly ready to flit, no +change in size is indicated now. But Belle and I have got to have +another conference with the legal eagle. So if you and Brownie, Jim, +will 'port whatever you need out of the _Pleiades_, we'll be on our way. + +"So long--see you in a few days," he added, and the _Pleiades_ vanished; +to appear instantaneously high above the stratosphere over what was to +become the Galaxian Field of Earth. + + * * * + +"Got a minute, Gene?" he sent a thought. + +"For you two Primes, as many as you like. We haven't started building or +fencing yet, as you suggested, but we have bought all the real estate. +So land the ship anywhere out there and I'll send a jeep out after you." + +"Thanks, but no jeep. Nobody but you knows that we've really got control +of the _Pleiades_, and I want everybody else to keep on thinking it's +strictly for the birds. We'll 'port in to your office whenever you say." + +"I say now." + +In no time at all the two Primes were seated in the private office of +Eugene Evans, Head of the Legal Department of the newly re-incorporated +Galaxian Society of Sol, Inc. Evans was a tall man, slightly thin, +slightly stooped, whose thick tri-focals did nothing whatever to hide +the keenness of his steel-gray eyes. + +"The first thing, Gene," Garlock said, "is this employment contract +thing. Have you figured out a way to break it?" + +"It can't be broken." The lawyer shook his head. + +"Huh? I thought you top-bracket legal eagles could break anything, if +you really tried." + +"A good many things, yes, especially if they're long and complicated. +The Standard Employment Contract, however, is short, explicit, and +iron-clad. The employer can discharge the employee for any one of a +number of offenses, including insubordination; which, as a matter of +fact, the employer himself is allowed to define. On the other hand, the +employee cannot quit except for some such fantastic reason as the +non-tendering--not non-payment, mind you, but non-_tendering_--of +salary." + +"I didn't expect that--it kicks us in the teeth before we get started." +Garlock got up, lighted a cigarette, and prowled about the big room. +"Okay. Jim and I will have to get ourselves fired, then." + +"Fired!" Belle snorted. "Clee, you talk like a man with a paper nose! +Who else could run the Project? That is," her whole manner changed; "he +doesn't know I can run it as well as you can--or better--but I could +tell him--and maybe you think I wouldn't!" + +"You won't have to. Gene, you can start spreading the news that Belle +Bellamy is a real, honest-to-God Prime Operator in every respect. That +she knows more about Project Gunther than I do and could run it better. +Ferber undoubtedly knows that Belle and I have been at loggerheads ever +since we first met--spread it thick that we're fighting worse than ever. +Which, by the way, is the truth." + +"Fighting? Why, you seemed friendly enough...." + +"Yeah, we can be friendly for about fifteen minutes if we try real hard, +as now. The cold fact is, though, that she's just as much three-quarters +hellcat and one-quarter potassium cyanide as she...." + +"I like _that!_" Belle stormed. She leaped to her feet, her eyes +shooting sparks. "All _my_ fault! Why, you self-centered, egotistical, +domineering jerk, I could write a book...." + +"That's enough--let it go--_please!_" Evans pleaded. He jumped up, took +each of the combatants by a shoulder, sat them down into the chairs they +had vacated, and resumed his own seat. "The demonstration was eminently +successful. I will spread the word, through several channels. Chancellor +Ferber will get it all, rest assured." + +"And _I'll_ get the job!" Belle snapped. "And maybe you think I won't +take it!" + +"Yeah?" came Garlock's searing thought. "You'd do anything to get it and +to keep it. Yeah. I _do_ think." + +"Oh?" Belle's body stiffened, her face hardened. "I've heard stories, of +course, but I couldn't quite ... but surely, he can't be _that_ +stupid--to think he can buy me like so many pounds of calf-liver?" + +"He surely is. He does. And it works. That is, if he's ever missed, +nobody ever heard of it." + +"But how could a man in such a big job _possibly_ get away with such +foul stuff as that?" + +"Because all the SSE is interested in is money, and Alonzo P. Ferber is +a tremendously able top executive. In the big black-and-red money books +he's always 'way, 'way up in the black, and nobody cares about his +conduct." + + * * * + +Belle, even though she was already convinced, glanced questioningly at +Evans. + +"That's it, Miss Bellamy. That's it, in a precise, if somewhat crude, +nutshell." + +"That's that, then. But just how, Clee--if he's as smart as you say he +is--do you think you can make him fire you?" + +"I don't know--haven't thought about it yet. But I could be pretty +insubordinate if I really tried." + +"That's the understatement of the century." + +"I'll devote the imponderable force of the intellect to the problem and +check with you later. Now, Gene, about the proposed Galactic Service, +the Council, and so on. What is the reaction? Yours, personally, and +others?" + +"My personal reaction is immensely favorable; I think it the greatest +advance that humanity has ever made. I have been very cautious, of +course, in discussing, or even mentioning the matter, but the reaction +of everyone I have sounded--good men; big men in their respective +fields--has been as enthusiastic as my own." + +"Good. It won't surprise you, probably, to be told that you are to be +this system's councillor and--if we can swing it and I think we can--the +first President of the Galactic Council?" + +Evans was so surprised that it was almost a minute before he could reply +coherently. Then: "I _am_ surprised--very much so. I thought, of course, +that you yourself would...." + +"Far from it!" Garlock said, positively. "I'm not the type. You are. +You're better than anyone else of the Galaxians--which means than anyone +else period. With the possible exception of Lola, and she fits better on +our exploration team. Check, Belle?" + +"Check. For once, I agree with you without reservation. _That's_ a job +we can work at all the rest of our lives, and scarcely start it." + +"True--indubitably true. I appreciate your confidence in me, and if the +vote so falls I will do whatever I can." + +"We know you will, and thank _you_. How long will it take to organize? A +couple of weeks? And is there anything else we have to cover now?" + +"A couple of _weeks!_" Evans was shocked. "You are naive indeed, young +man, to think anything of this magnitude can even be started in such a +short time as that. And yes, there are dozens of matters--hundreds--that +should be discussed before I can even start to work intelligently." + +Hence discussions went on and on and on. It was three days before +Garlock and Belle 'ported themselves up into the _Pleiades_ and the +starship displaced itself instantaneously to Margonia. + + * * * + +Meanwhile, on Margonia, James James James the Ninth went directly to the +heart of his job by leading Lola and Fao into Delcamp's office and +setting up its Gunther blocks. + +"You said you want me to build your starship. Okay, but I want you +both--Fao especially--to realize exactly what that means. I know what to +do and how to do it. I can handle your Operators and get the job done. +However, I can't handle either of you, since you both out-Gunther me, +and I'm not going to try to. But there can't be two bosses on any one +job, to say nothing of three or seventeen. So either I run the job or I +don't. If either of you steps in, I step out and don't come back in. And +remember that you're not doing us any favors--it's strictly vice versa." + +"Jim!" Lola protested. Fao's hackles were very evidently on the rise; +Delcamp's face was hardening. "Don't be so rough, Jim, _please_. That's +no way to...." + +"If you can pretty this up, pet, I'll be glad to have you say it for me. +Here's what you have to work on. If I do the job they'll have their +starship in a few weeks. The way they've been going, they won't have it +in twenty-five years. And the only way to get that bunch out there to +really work is to tell each one of them to cooperate or else--and +enforce the 'or else.'" + +"But they'd quit!" Delcamp protested. "They'll _all_ quit!" + +"With suspension or expulsion from the Society the consequences? +Hardly." James said. + +"But you wouldn't do that--you couldn't." + +"I wouldn't?" + +"Of course he wouldn't," Lola put in, soothingly, "except as a very last +resort. And, even at worst, Jim could build it almost as easily with +common labor. You Primes don't really _have_ to have any Operators at +all, you know; but all your Operators together would be perfectly +helpless without at least one Prime." + +"How come?" and "In what way?" Delcamp and Fao demanded together. + +"Oh, didn't you know? After the ship is built and the fields are charged +and so on, everything has to be activated--the hundred and one things +that make it so nearly alive--and that is strictly a Prime's job. Even +Jim can't do it." + +"I see ... or, rather, I don't see at all," Fao said, thoughtfully. She +was no longer either excited or angry. "A few weeks against twenty-five +years ... what do you think of his time estimate, Deg my dear?" + +"I hadn't thought it would take nearly that long; but this 'activation' +thing scares me. Nothing in my theory even hints at any such thing. +So--if there's so much I don't know yet, even in theory, it would take a +long time. Maybe I'd never get it." + +"Well, anyway, I want our _Celestial Queen_ done in weeks, not years," +Fao said, extending her hand to James and shaking his vigorously. "So I +promise not to interfere a bit. If I feel any such urge coming on, I'll +dash home and lock myself up in a closet until it dies. Fair enough?" + +Since Fao really meant it, that was fair enough. + + * * * + +For a whole day James did nothing except study blueprints; going over in +detail and practically memorizing every drawing that had been made. He +then went over the ship, studying minutely every part, plate, member, +machine and instrument that had been installed. He noted what each man +and woman was doing and what they intended to do. He went over material +on hand and material on order, paying particular attention to times of +delivery. He then sent a few--surprisingly few--telegrams. + +Finally he called all fourteen Operators together. He told them exactly +what the revised situation was and exactly what he was going to do about +it. He invited comments. + +There was of course a riot of protest; but--in view of what James had +said anent suspensions and expulsions from the Galaxian Society--not one +of them actually did quit. Four of them, however, did appeal to Delcamp, +considerably to his surprise, to oust the interloper and to put things +back where they had been; but they did not get much satisfaction. + +"James says that he can finish building this starship in a few weeks," +Delcamp told them, flatly. "Specifically, three weeks, if we can get the +special stuff made fast enough. Fao and I believe him. Therefore, we +have put him in full charge. He will remain in charge unless and until +he fails in performance. You are all good friends of Fao's and mine, and +we hope that all of you will stay with the project. If, however, we must +choose now between you--any one of you or all of you--and James, there +is no need to tell you what the choice will be." + +Wherefore all fourteen went back to work; grudgingly at first and +dragging their feet. In a very few hours, however, it became evident to +all that James did in fact know what he was doing and that the work was +going faster and smoother than ever before; whereupon all opposition and +all malingering disappeared. They were Operators, and they were all +intensely interested in their ship. Morale was at a high. + +Thus, when the _Pleiades_ landed beside the now seething _Celestial +Queen_, Garlock found James with feet on desk, hands in pockets, and +scanner on head; doing--apparently--nothing at all. Nevertheless, he was +a very busy man. + +"Hey, Jim!" A soprano shriek of thought emanated from a gorgeous +seventeen-year-old blonde. "I can't read this funny-picture, it's been +folded too many times. Where does this lead go to?" + +"Data insufficient. Careful, Vingie; I'd hate to have to send you back +to school." + +"'Scuse, please, Junior. Unit Six, Sub-Assembly Tee Dash Ni-yun. +Terminal Fo-wer. From said terminal, there's a lead--Bee Sub +something-or-other--goes somewhere. Where?" + +"B sub Four. It goes to Unit Seven, Sub-Assembly Q dash Three, Terminal +Two. And watch your insulation--that's a mighty hot lead." + +"Uh-huh, I got that. Double Sink Mill Mill; Class Albert Dog Kittens. +Thanks, boss!" + + * * * + +"Hi, Jim," Garlock said. Then, to Delcamp. "I see you're rolling." + +"_He's_ rolling, you mean." Delcamp had not yet recovered fully from a +state of near-shock. "So _that's_ what an eidetic memory is? He knows +every nut, bolt, lead, and coil in the ship!" + +"More than that. He's checking every move everybody makes. When they're +done, you won't have to just hope everything was put together +right--you'll _know_ it was." + +Jim was their man. + + * * * + +And Fao sidled over toward Belle. There was something new about the +silver-haired girl, Belle decided instantly. The difference was +slight--Belle couldn't put her finger on it at first. She +seemed--quieter? Softer? More subdued? No, definitely. More feminine? +No; that would be impossible. More ... more adult? Belle hated to admit +it, even to herself, but that was what it was. + +"Deg and I got married day before yesterday," Fao confided, via tight +beam. + +"Oh--so you're _pregnant!_" + +"Of course. I saw to that the first thing. I knew you'd want to be the +first one to know. Oh, isn't it _wonderful_?" She seized Belle's arm and +hugged it ecstatically against her side. "Just too perfectly marvelous +for _anything_?" + +"Oh, I'm sure it is; and I'm so happy for you, Fao!" And it would have +taken the mind of a Garlock to perceive anything either false or forced +in thought or bearing. + +Nevertheless, when Belle went into Garlock's room that night, storm +signals were flying high in her almost-topaz eyes. + +"Fao Talaho-Delcamp is _pregnant_!" she stormed, "and it's all _your_ +fault!" + +"Uh-huh," he demurred, trying to snap her out of her obviously savage +mood. "Not me, ace. Not a chance in the world. It was Deggi." + +"You ... you _weasel_! You know very well, Clee Garlock, what I meant. +If you hadn't given her that treatment she'd have kept on fighting with +him and they wouldn't have been married and had any children for +positively _years_. So now she'll have the first double-Prime baby and +it ought to be _mine_. I'm older than she is--our group is 'way ahead of +theirs--we have the first and _only_ starship--and then you do _that_. +And you wouldn't give _me_ that treatment. Oh, no--just to _her_, that +bleached-blonde! I'd like to strangle you to death with my own bare +hands!" + +"What a hell of a logic!" Garlock had been trying to keep his own temper +in leash, but the leash was slipping. "Assume I tried to work on +you--assume I succeeded--what would you be? What would I have? What age +do you think this is--that of the Vikings? When SOP in getting a wife +was to beat her unconscious with a club and drag her into the longboat +by her hair? Hardly! I do not want and will not have a conquered woman. +Nor a spoiled-rotten, mentally-retarded brat...." + +"You unbearable, conceited, overbearing jerk! Why, I'd rather...." + +"Get out! And _this_ time, _stay_ out!" + +Belle got out--and if door and frame had not been built of super-steel, +both would have been wrecked by the blast of energy she loosed in +closing the door behind her. + +In her own room, with Gunther blocks full on, she threw herself face +down on the bed and cried as she had not cried since she was a child. + +And finally, without even taking off her clothes, she cried herself to +sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER 8 + + +Next morning, early, Belle tapped lightly on Garlock's door. + +"Come in." + +She did so. "Have you had your coffee?" + +"Yes." + +"So have I." + +Neither Belle nor Garlock had recovered; both faces showed strain and +drain. + +"I think we'd better break this up," Belle said, quietly. + +"Check. We'll have to, if we expect to get any work done." + +Belle could not conceal her surprise. + +"Oh, not for the reason you think," Garlock went on, quickly. "Your +record as a man-killer is still one hundred point zero zero zero +percent. I've been in love with you ever since we paired. Before that, +even." + +"Flapdoodle!" she snorted, inelegantly. "Why, I...." + +"Keep still a minute. And I'm not going to fight with you again. Ever. +I'm not going to touch you again until I can control myself a lot better +than I could last night." + +"Oh? That was mostly my fault, of course. But in love? Uh-uh, I've seen +men in love. You aren't. I couldn't make you be, not with the best I +could do. Not even in bed. You aren't, Clee--if you are, I'm an +Australian bushman." + +"Perhaps I'm an atypical case. I'm not raving about your perfect +body--you know what that is like already. Nor about your mind, which is +the only one I know of as good as my own. Maybe I'm in love with what I +think you ought to be ... or what I hope you will be. Anyway, I'm in +love with _something_ connected with you--and with no other woman alive. +Shall we go eat?" + +"Uh-huh--let's." + +They joined Lola and James at the table; and if Lola noticed anything +out of the ordinary, she made no sign. + +And after breakfast, in the Main-- + +"About three weeks, Jim, you think?" Garlock asked. + +"Give or take a couple of days, yes." + +"And Belle and I would just be in the way--at least until time to show +Deggi about the activation ... and all those Primes to organize ... we'd +better leave you here, don't you think, and get going?" + +"I'll buy that. We'll finish as soon as possible." + +Lola and James moved a few personal belongings planetside; Garlock and +Belle shot the _Pleiades_ across a vast gulf of space to one of the +planets they had scanned so fleetingly on their preliminary survey. Its +name was, both remembered, Lizoria; its two Primes were named Rezdo +Semolo and Mirea Mitala--male and female, respectively. + +After sending down a very brief and perfunctory request for +audience--which was in effect a declaration of intent and nothing +else--Garlock and Belle teleported themselves down into Semolo's office, +where both Lizorian Primes were. + +Both got up out of peculiar-looking chairs to face their visitors. Both +were tall; both were peculiarly thin. Not the thinness of emaciation, +but that of bodily structure. + +"On them it looks good," Belle tight-beamed a thought to Garlock. + +Both moved fast and with exquisite control; both were extraordinarily +graceful. "Snaky" was Belle's thought of the woman; "sinuous" was +Garlock's of the man. Both were completely hairless, of body and of +head--not by nature, but via electric-shaver clipping. Both wore +sandals. The man wore shorts and a shirt-like garment of nylon or its +like; the woman wore just enough ribbons and bands to hold a hundred +thousand credits' worth of jewels in place. She appeared to be about +twenty years--Tellurian equivalent--old; he was probably twenty-three or +twenty-four. + +"We did not invite you in and we do not want you here," Semolo said, +coldly. "So get out, both of you. If you don't, when I count three I'll +throw you out, and I won't be too careful about how many of your bones I +break. One.... Two...." + +"Pipe down, Rezdo!" the girl exclaimed. "They have something we haven't, +or they wouldn't be here. Whatever it is, we want it." + +"Oh, let him try, Miss Mitala," Garlock said, through her hard-held +block, in the depth of her mind. "He won't hurt us a bit and it may do +him some good. While he's wasting effort I'll compare notes with my +partner here, Galactic Vice-Admiral Belle Bellamy. I'm glad to see that +one of you has at least a part of a brain." + +"... Three!" Semolo did his best, with everything he had, without even +attracting Garlock's attention. He then tried to leap at the intruder +physically, despite the latter's tremendous advantage in weight and +muscle, but found that he could not move. + +Then, through Belle's solidly-set blocks, "How are you doing, ace? +Getting anywhere?" + +"My God!" came Belle's mental shriek. "What--how can--but no, you +_didn't_ give _that_ to Fao, surely!" + +"I'll say I didn't--nor to Delcamp. But you're going to need it, I'm +thinking." + +"But _can_ you? Even if you _would_--and I'm just beginning to realize +how big a man you really are--can that kind of stuff be taught? I +probably haven't got the brain-cells it takes to handle it." + +"I'm not sure, but I've reworked our Prime Fields into one and made a +couple of other changes. Theoretically, it ought to work. Shall I come +in and try it?" + +"Don't be an idiot, darling. _Of course!_" + + * * * + +As impersonally as a surgeon exploring an organ, Garlock went into +Belle's mind. "Tune to the field ... that's it--fine! Then--I'll do it +real slow, and watch me close--you do like so ... get it?" + +"Uh-huh!" Belle breathed, excitedly. "Got it!" + +"Then this ... and this ... and there you are. You can try it on me, if +you like." + +"Uh-uh. No sale. I don't need practice and I'd like to preserve the +beautiful illusion that maybe I _could_ crack your shield if I wanted +to. I'll work on Miss Snake-Hips here, the serpentine charmer--but say, +I'll bet there's a bone in it. _You_ can block it, can't you?" + +"Yes. It goes like this." He showed her. "It takes full mastery of the +Prime Field, but you've got that." + +"Oh, wonderful! Thanks, Clee darling. But do you mean to actually say I +can now completely block you or any other Prime out?" + +"You're going too far, ace. Me, yes--but don't forget that there very +well may be people--or things--as far ahead of us as we are ahead of +pointer pups." + +"Huh! Balloon-juice and prop-wash! I just _know_, Clee, that you're the +absolute tops of the whole, entire, macrocosmic universe." + +"Well, we can dream, of course." Garlock withdrew his mind from Belle's +and turned his attention to the now quiet Semolo. "Well, my +over-confident and contumacious young squirt; are you done horsing +around or do you want to keep it up until you addle completely what few +brains you have?" + +The Lizorian made no reply; but merely glared. + +"The trouble with you half-baked, juvenile--I almost added 'delinquent' +to that, and perhaps I should have--Primes is that you know too damned +much that isn't true. As an old Tellurian saying hath it, 'you're +altogether too big for your britches.' + +"Thus, simply because you have lived a few years on one single planet +and haven't encountered anyone able to stand up to you, you've sold +yourself on the idea that there's nobody, anywhere, who can. You're +wrong--you couldn't be more so if you had an army to help you. + +"What, actually, have you done? What, actually, have you got? +Practically nothing. You haven't even started a starship; you've +scarcely started making plans. You realize dimly that the theory is not +in any of the books, that you'll have to slug it out for yourself, but +that is _work_. So you're still just posing and throwing your weight +around. + +"As a matter of fact, you're merely a drop in a lake. There are +thousands of millions of planets, and thousands of millions of Prime +Operators. Most of them are probably a lot stronger than you are; many +of them may be stronger than my partner and I are. I am not at all +certain that you will pass even the first screening; but since you are +without question a Prime Operator, I will deliver the message we came to +deliver. Miss Mitala, do you want to listen or shall we drive it into +you, too?" + +"I want to listen to anyone or anything who has a working starship and +who can do what you have just done." + +"Very well," and Garlock told the general-distribution version of the +story of the Galactic Service. + +"Quite interesting," Semolo said loftily, at its end. "Whether or not I +would be interested depends, of course, on whether there's a position +high enough for...." + +"I doubt very much if there's one low enough," Garlock cut in sharply. +"However, since it's part of my job, I'll get in touch with you later. +Okay, Belle." + +And in the Main--"What a jerk!" Belle exclaimed. "What a half-cooked, +half-digested _pill_! I simply marvel at your forbearance, Clee. You +should have turned him inside out and hung him up to dry--especially +behind the ears!" Then, suddenly, she giggled. "But do you know what I +did?" + +"I can guess. A couple of shots in the arm?" + +"Uh-huh. Next time he pitches into her she'll slap his ears right off. +Oh, _brother_!" + +"Check and double-check. But let's hop to Number Two.... Here it is." + + * * * + +"Oh, yes," came a smooth, clear, diamond-sharp thought in reply to +Garlock's introductory call. "This world, as you have perceived, is +Falne. I am indeed Baver 14WD27, my companion Prime is indeed Glarre +12WD91. You are, we perceive, Bearers of the Truth; of great skill and +of high advancement. Your visit here will, I am sure, be of immense +benefit to us and possibly, I hope, of some small benefit to you. We +will both be delighted to have you both 'port yourselves to us at once." + +The Tellurians did so--and in the very instant of appearance Garlock was +met by a blast of force the like of which he had never even imagined. +The two Falnian Primes, capable operators both, had built up their +highest possible potentials and had launched both terrific bolts without +any hint of warning. + +Belle's mind, however, was already fused with Garlock's. Their combined +blocks were instantaneous in action; their counter-thrust was nearly so. +Both Falnians staggered backward until they were stopped by the room's +wall. + +"Ah, yes," Garlock said, then. "You are indeed, in a small and feeble +way, Seekers after the Truth; of which we are indeed Bearers. Lesser +Bearers, perhaps, but still Bearers. You will indeed profit greatly from +our visit. You err, however, in thinking that we may in any respect +profit from you. You have nothing whatever that we have not had for +long. Now let us, if you please, take a few seconds of time to get +acquainted, each with the other." + +"That, indeed, is the logical and seemly thing to do." Both Falnians +straightened up and stepped forward; neither arrogantly nor +apologetically, but simply as though nothing at all out of the ordinary +had taken place. + +Each pair studied the other. Physically, the two pairs were surprisingly +alike. Baver was almost as big as Garlock; almost as heavily muscled. +Glarre could have been cast in Belle's own mold. + + * * * + +With that, however, all resemblance ceased. + +Both Falnians were naked. The man wore only a belt and pouch in lieu of +pockets; the woman only a leather carryall slung from one shoulder--big +enough, Garlock thought, to hold a week's supplies for an Explorer +Scout. + +His hair was thick, bushy, unkempt; sun-bleached to a nondescript blend +of pale colors. Hers--long, heavy, meticulously middle-parted and +dressed--was a startling two-tone job. To the right of the part it was a +searingly brilliant red; to the left, an equally brilliant royal blue. + +His skin was deeply tanned. The color of hers was completely masked by a +bizarrely spectacular overlay of designs done in semi-indelible, +multi-colored dyes. + +"Ah, you are worthy indeed of receiving an increment of Truth. Hear, +then, the message we bring," and again Garlock told the story. + +"We thank you, sir and madam, from our hearts. We will accept with joy +your help in finishing our ship; we will do all that in us lies to +further the cause of the Galactic Service. Until a day, then?" + +"Until a day." Then, to Belle, "Okay, ace. Ready? Go!" + +And up in the Main--"Sweet Sin!" Belle exclaimed. "What a pair _they_ +turned out to be! Clee, that simply scared me witless." + +"You can play that in spades." Garlock jammed his hands into his pockets +and prowled about the room, his face a black scowl of concentration. + +Until, finally, he pulled himself out of the brown study and said: "I've +been trying to think if there's any other thing, however slight, that I +have and you haven't. There isn't. You've got it all. You're just as +fast as I am, just as sharp and as accurate--and, since we now draw on +the same field, just as strong." + +"Why Clee! You're worrying about _me_? You've done altogether too much +for me, already." + +"Anything I can do, I've got to do ... well, shall we go?" + +"We shall." + + * * * + +They visited four more planets that day. And after supper that night, +standing in the corridor between their doors, Belle began to soften her +shield, as though to send a thought. Almost instantly, however, she +changed her mind and snapped it back to full on. + +"Good night, Clee," she said. + +"Good night, Belle," and each went into his own room. + +The next day they worked nine planets, and the day after that they +worked ten. They ate supper in friendly fashion; then strolled together +across the Main, to a davenport. + +"It's funny," Belle said thoughtfully, "having this tremendous ship all +to ourselves. To have a private conference right out here in the Main +... or is it?" + +He triggered the shields, she watched him do it. "It is now," he assured +her. + +"Prime-proof? Not ordinary Gunther blocks?" + +"Uh-huh. Two hundred kilovolts and four hundred kilogunts. Backed by +all the force of the Prime and Op fields and the full power of the +engines. I told you I'd made some changes in the set-up." + +"Private enough, I guess ... what a mess those Primes are! And we'll +have to make the rounds twice more--when we alert 'em and when we pick +'em up." + +"Not necessarily. This new set-up ought to give us a galaxy-wide reach. +Let's try Semolo, on Lizoria, shall we?" + +"Uh-huh--Let's." + +"Tune in, then ace." + +"_Ace_, darling?" + +"Ace, _Darling_?" + +"Darling. You said you weren't going to fight with me any more. +Okay--I'm not going to try any more to lick you until after I've licked +myself. I'm tuned--you may fire when ready, Gridley." + +They fired--and hit the mark dead center. Top-lofty and arrogant and +belligerent as ever, the Lizorian Prime took the call. "I thought all +the time you wanted something. Well, I neither want nor need...." + +"Cut it, you unlicked cub, until you can begin to use that half-liter of +golop you call a brain," Garlock said, harshly. "We're just trying out a +new ultra-communicator. Thanks for your help." + +On the fourth day they worked eleven planets; the fifth day saw the +forty-sixth planet done and the immediate job finished. All during +supper, it was very evident that Belle had something on her mind. + +After eating, she went out into the Main and slumped down on a +davenport. Garlock followed her. A cigarette leaped out of a closed box +and into place between her lips. It came alight. She smoked it slowly, +without relish; almost as though she did not know that she was smoking. + +"Might as well get it out of your system, Belle," Garlock said aloud. +"What are you thinking about at the moment?" + +Belle exhaled; the half-smoked butt vanished. "At the moment I was +thinking about Gunther blocks. Specifically, their total inability to +cope with that new Prime probe of yours." She stared at him, +narrow-eyed. "It goes through them just like nothing at all." She +paused; eyed him questioningly. + +"No comment." + +"And yet you gave it to me. Freely, of your own accord. Even before I +needed it. Why?" + +"Still no comment." + +"You'd better comment, Buster, before I blow my top." + +"There is such a thing as urbanity." + +"I've heard of it, yes; even though you never did believe I ever had +any. You _talk_ a good game of urbanity, but your brand of it would +never carry you _that_ far...." + +She paused. He remained silent. She went on. + +"Of course, it does put a lot of pressure on me to develop myself." + +"I'm glad you used the word 'develop' instead of 'treat.'" + +"Oh, sometimes--at rare intervals--I'm not exactly dumb. But you +knew--you _must_ have known--what a horrible risk you took in making me +as tremendously powerful as you are." + + * * * + +"Some, perhaps, but very definitely less risky than not doing it." + +"Getting information out of you is harder than pulling teeth. Clee +Garlock, I want you to tell me _why!_" + +"Very well." Garlock's jaw set. "You've had it in mind all along that +this is some kind of a lark; that you and I are Gunther Tops of the +universe. Or did that belief weaken a bit when we met Baver 14WD27?" + +"Well, perhaps--a little. However, the probability is becoming greater +with every planet we visit. After all, _some_ race has to be tops. Why +_shouldn't_ it be us?" + +"_What_ a logic--excuse me, skip it...." + +"Oh, you really _meant_ it when you said you weren't going to fight with +me any more?" + +"I'm going to try not to. Now, remembering that I don't consider your +premise valid, just suppose that when we visit some planet some day, you +get your mind burned out and I don't--solely because I had something I +could have given you and wouldn't. What then?" + +"Oh. I thought that was what you ... but suppose I can't...." + +"We won't suppose anything of the kind. But that wasn't all that was on +your mind. Nor most." + +"How true. Those Primes. The women. Honestly, Clee, I never saw--never +imagined--such a bunch of exhibitionistic, obstreperous, obnoxious, +swell-headed, hussies in my whole life. And every day it was borne in on +me more and more that I was--am--exactly like the rest of them." + +Garlock was wise enough to say nothing, and Belle went on: "I've been +talking a good game of licking myself, but this time I'm going to _do_ +it." + +She jumped up and doubled her fists. "If you can do it, I can," she +declared. "Like the ancient ballad--'Anything you can do I can do +better.'" She tried to be jaunty, but the jauntiness did not ring quite +true. + +"That's an unfortunate quotation, I'm afraid. The trouble is, I +haven't." + +"Huh? Don't be an idiot, Clee. You certainly have--what else do _you_ +suppose put me so far down into the dumps?" + +"In that case, you _certainly_ will. So come on up out of the dumps." + +"Wilco--and I certainly will. But for a woman who has been talking so +big, I feel low in my mind. A good-night kiss, Clee, darling? Just +one--and just a little one, at that?" + +"Sweetheart!" + +There were more than one, and none of them was little. Eventually, +however, the two stood, arms still around each other, in the corridor +between their doors. + +"But kissing's as far as it goes, isn't it," Belle said. The remark was +not a question; nor was it quite a statement. + +"That's right." + +"So good night, darling." + +"Good night, ace." + + * * * + +And when they next saw each other, at the breakfast table, Belle was +apparently her usual dauntless self. + +"Hi, darling--sit down," she said, gaily. "Your breakfast is on the +table. Bacon, eggs, toast, strawberry jam, and a liter of coffee." + +"Nice! Thanks, ace." + +They ate in silence for a few minutes; then her hand crept tentatively +across the table. He pressed it warmly. "You look a million, Belle. Out +of the dumps?" + +"Pretty much--in most ways. One way, though, I'm in deeper than ever. +You see, I know exactly what you did to Fao Talaho; and why neither you +or anybody else could do it to me. Or if they could, what would happen +if they did." + +"I was hoping you would. I couldn't very well tell you, before, but...." + +"Of course not. I see that." + +"... the fact is that Fao, and all the others we've met, are young +enough, unformed enough--plastic enough--yes, damn it, _weak_ enough--to +bend. But you are tremendously strong, and twelve Rockwell numbers +harder than a diamond. You wouldn't bend. If enough stress could be +applied--and that's decidedly questionable--you wouldn't bend. You'd +break, and I can't figure it. You're a little older, of course, but not +enough to...." + +"How about the fact that I've been banging myself for eight years +against Cleander Garlock, the top Prime of the universe and the hardest? +That might have something to do with it, don't you think?" + +Garlock said, "Indefensible conclusions drawn from insufficient data. +That's just what I've been talking about. No matter how we got the way +we are, though, the fact is that you and I have got to fight our own +battles and bury our own dead." + +"Check. Like having a baby, but worse. There's nothing anybody else can +do--even you--except maybe hold my hand, like now." + +"That's about it. But speaking of holding hands, would it help if we +paired again?" + +Belle studied the question for two full minutes; her fine eyes clouded. +"No," she said, finally. "I would enjoy it too much, and you'd ... well, +you wouldn't...." + +"Huh?" he demanded. + +"Oh, physically, of course; but that isn't enough, or good enough, now. +You see, I know what your personal code is. It's unbelievable, almost--I +never heard of one like it, except maybe a priest or two--but I admire +you tremendously for it. You would never, willingly, pair with a woman +you really loved. That was why you were so glad to break ours off. You +can't deny it." + +"I won't try to deny it. But you can't bluff me, Belle, so please quit +trying. Basically, your code is the same as mine. Why else did you +initiate our break?" + +Belle's block went solid, and Garlock said hastily, aloud, "Excuse it, +please. Cancel. I've just said, and know as an empirical fact, that +you've got to do the job alone--but I can't seem to help putting my big, +flat foot in it by blundering in anyway. Let's get to work, shall we?" + +"What at? Interview the Primes, I'd say--tell them to hold themselves in +readiness to attend...." + +"On very short notice...." + +"Yes. To attend the big meeting on Tellus. We'll have to make a +schedule. It shouldn't be held until after Fao and Deggi get their ship +built--it _can't_ be held, of course, until after you and Jim are out of +SSE. Have you got _that_ figured out yet?" + +"Pretty much." He told her his plan. + +Belle giggled, then burst into laughter. "So _I'm_ in it, too? +_Wonderful!_" + +"You have to be. If we make him mad enough, he'll fire you, too." + +"Without hiring me first? He couldn't." + +"He could, very easily. He doesn't know one-tenth of one percent of his +people. If we work it right he'll assume that you're one of us +wage-slaves, too. Lola, too, for that matter." + +"Careful, Clee. You and I think this is funny, but Lola wouldn't. She'd +be shocked to her sweet little core, and she'd louse up the whole deal. +So be very sure she doesn't get in on it." + +"I guess you're right ... well, shall we go out and insult our touchy +young friend Semolo? Ready.... Go!" + + * * * + +"Oh, it's _you_ again. I tell you...." the Lizorian began. + +"You will tell me nothing. You will listen. Link your mind to Mitala's," +and the linked Tellurian minds enforced the order. "In about two weeks +the Primes of many worlds will meet in person on Tellus. Arrange your +affairs so that on ten minutes' notice you both can leave Lizoria for +Tellus aboard our starship, the _Pleiades_. That is all." + +"He'll come, too," Belle chortled. "He'll writhe and scream, but he'll +come." + +"You couldn't keep him away," Garlock agreed. + +On the next planet, Falne, the procedure was a little different. The +information was the same, but--"One word of warning," Garlock added. "It +is to be a meeting of minds; not a contest to set up a pecking-order. If +you try any such business you will be disciplined; sharply and in +public." + +"Suppose that, under such conditions, we refuse to attend the meeting?" + +"That is your right. There is no coercion whatever. Whether or not you +come will depend upon whether or not you two are in reality Seekers +after Truth. Until a day." + +And so it went. Planet after planet. On not one of those worlds had any +Prime changed his thinking. Not one was really interested in the +Galactic Service as an instrument for the good of all mankind. There +were almost as many attitudes as there were Primes; but all were +essentially self-centered and selfish. + +"That tears it, Belle--busts it wide open. I can--I mean we together can +do either job. That is, either be top boss and run the thing or put in +full time beating some sense into those hard skulls. We can't do both." + +"On paper, we should," Belle said, thoughtfully. "You're Galactic +Admiral; I'm your Vice. One job apiece. But we're _not_ going to be +separated. Besides...." + +"Two (minds) (brains) are much better than one," both said, except for +one word, in unison. + +Belle laughed. "That settles that. The Garlock-Bellamy fusion is +Galactic Admiral--so we need a good Vice. Who? Deggi and Fao? They're +cooperative and idealistic enough, but.... Oh, I don't know exactly what +it is they lack. Do you?" + +"No; I can't put it into words or thoughts. Probably the concept is too +new for pigeon-holing. It isn't exactly strength or hardness or +toughness or resilience or brisance--maybe a combination of all five. +What we need is a pair like us but better." + +"There _aren't_ any." + +"Don't be too sure." Belle glanced at him in surprise and he went on: +"Not that we've seen, no. But each of those worlds centers a volume of +space containing thousands of planets. Including the Tellurian and the +Margonian, we now have forty-eight regions defined. Let's run a very +fast search-pattern of Region Forty-nine and see what we come up with." + +"All right ... but suppose we do find somebody who out-Gunthers us?" + +"I'd a lot rather have it that way than the way it is now. I'll do the +hopping, you the checking. Here's the first one--what do you read?" + +"N. G." + +"And this one?" + +"The same." + +"And this?" + +"Ditto." + +Until, finally: "Clee, just how long are you going to keep this up?" + +"Until we find something or run out of time for the meeting. Belle, I +really _want_ to find somebody who amounts to something." + +"So do I, really, so go ahead." + + * * * + +But they did not run out of time. At planet number four-hundred-something, +Belle suddenly emitted a shriek--vocally as well as mentally. "Clee! +Hold it! Here's something, I think!" + +"I'm sure there is, and I'm gladder to see you two people than can +possibly be expressed." + +Belle whirled; so did Garlock. A man stood in the middle of the Main; a +man shaped very much like Garlock, but with long, badly-tousled hair and +a bushy wilderness of fiery-red whiskers. + +"Please excuse this intrusion, Admiral--or should it be plural? Improper +address, I'm sure, but your joint tenure is a concept so new and so vast +that I am not yet able to grasp it fully--but you are working at such +high speed that I had to do something drastic. You will, I trust, remain +here long enough to discuss certain matters with my wife and me?" + +"We'll be very glad to." + +"Thank you. I will return, then, more decorously, and bring her. One +moment." He disappeared. + +"_Wife!_" Belle exclaimed, more than half in dismay. "They must be, +then...." + +"Yeah." The thought of a wife did not bother Garlock at all. "Talk about +_power!_ And _speed!_ To get all that stuff and 'port up here in the +millisecond or so we had the screens open? Baby Doll, there's a guy who +is what a Prime Operator _ought_ to be!" + +In less than a minute the man reappeared, accompanied by a woman who was +very obviously pregnant--eight months or so. Like the man, she was +dressed in tight-fitting coveralls. Her hair, however--it was a natural +red, too--was cut to a uniform length of eight inches, and each hair +individually stood out, perfectly straight and perfectly perpendicular +to the element of the scalp from which it sprang. + +"Friends Belle and Clee of Tellus, I present Therea, my wife; and +Alsyne, myself; of this planet Thaker. We have numbers, too, but they +are never used among friends." + +Acknowledgments were made and a few minutes of conversation ensued, +during which the two couples studied each other. + +"This looks mighty good to me," Garlock said then. "Shall we go screens +half-down, Alsyne, and cry in each other's beer?" + + * * * + +In thirty seconds of flashing communication each became thoroughly +informed. Those minds could send, and could receive, an incredibly vast +amount of information in an incredibly brief space of time. + +"Your ship should work and doesn't," Garlock said. "Show me; in detail." + +Alsyne showed him. + +"Oh, I see. You didn't work out quite all the theory. It has to be +activated. Like this...." Garlock showed Alsyne. + +"I see. Thanks." Alsyne disappeared and was gone for some ten minutes. +He reappeared, grinning hugely behind his flaming wilderness of beard. +"It works perfectly; for which our heartfelt thanks. And now that my +mind is at complete peace with the universe, we will consider the +utterly fascinating subject of your proposed Galactic Service. You two +Tellurians, immature although you are, have made two tremendous +contributions to the advancement of the Scheme of Things--three, if you +count the starship, which is comparatively unimportant--each of such +import that no human mind can foresee any fraction of its consequences. +First, your Prime Field, the probe and its screen...." + +"Clee!" Belle drove the thought. "You _didn't_ give him _that_, surely!" + +"Tut-tut, my child," Therea soothed her. "You are alarming yourself +about nothing." + +"The only trouble with you two youngsters is that you aren't quite--very +nearly, of course, but very definitely not quite--grown up." Alsyne +smiled again; not only with mouth and eyes, but with his whole hairy +face. "To the mature mind there is no such thing as status. Each knows +what he can do best and does it as a matter of course. Rank is not +necessary. + +"Second, the unimaginably important contribution of the ability to +combine two dissimilar but intimately compatible minds into one +tremendously effective fusion. While Therea and I have had only a few +moments to play with it, we realize some of its possibilities. Thus, +since she is a Doctor of Humanities...." + +"Oh," Belle interrupted. "_That's_ why you knew what I was thinking +about, even though I tight-beamed the thought and my screens were +tight?" + +"Exactly so. But to continue. With her sympathy and empathy, and my +driving force and so on, the job of licking these young Primes into +shape is, as your idiom has it, 'strictly our dish.' It is a truly +delicious thought. + +"You two, on the other hand, have much that we lack. Breadth and depth +and scope of imagination and of vision; yet almost incredible will-power +and stamina and resolve...." + +"_That's the word I was trying to think of--will-power_," Belle flashed +a thought at Garlock. + +"... qualities virtually always mutually exclusive; but the combination +of which makes your fusion uniquely qualified to lead and direct this +new and magnificent movement. But Therea and I have been idle and +frustrated far too long. We can be of most use, at the moment, on +Margonia; working with the Fao-Deggi unit. Therefore, with renewed deep +thanks, we go." + + * * * + +Man and wife disappeared; and, ten seconds later, the Thakern starship +vanished from its world. + +"Well, _what_ do you think of _that_?" Belle gasped. "I was actually +afraid to think, even behind a Prime screen. I don't know _yet_ whether +I want to kiss 'em or kill 'em." + +"I do. That guy is really a Prime, Belle. He's older, bigger, and a lot +better than I am." + +"Uh-uh," she demurred, positively. "Older, yes. More mature--you _baby_, +you!" She snickered gleefully. "If he hadn't included you in that crack +I'd've stabbed him, so help me, even though it wasn't true. He said +himself it's _you_ who has got what it takes to lead and direct, not +him." + +"Us. We, I mean," he corrected, absently. + +"Uh-huh; us-we. One, now and forever. Hot Dog! Anyway, he wants us to +and we want to so everything's lovely and so let's get to work on Fatso +and his Foster. I think we ought to have some fun for a change and +that'll be a lot. When do we want to hit him?" + +"Any day Monday through Friday. Nine-fifteen A.M. Eastern Daylight time. +Plus or minus one minute." + +"Nice! Catch him _in flagrante delicto_. Lovely--shovel on the coal, my +intrepid engineer!" + +On a Wednesday morning, then, at twelve minutes past nine EDT, the +_Pleiades_ hung poised, high over the Chancellery of Solar System +Enterprises, Incorporated. + +"Remember, Belle!" Garlock was pacing the Main. "To keep 'em staggering +we'll have to land slugging and beat 'em to every punch. You did a +wonderful job on her last time, and it's been eating on her ever since. +She's probably been rehearsing in front of a mirror just how she's going +to tear you apart next time and just how she's going to spit out the +pieces. Last time, you were cold, stiff, rigidly formal, and polite. So +this time it'll be me, and I'll be hot and bothered, dirty, low, coarse, +lewd, and very, very rough." + +Belle threw back her head and laughed. "Rough? Yes. Vicious, +contemptuous, or ugly; yes. A master of fluent, biting, and pyrotechnic +profanity; yes. But low or dirty or coarse or lewd, Clee? Or any one of +the four, to say nothing of them all? Uh-uh. Ferber's a filthy beast, of +course; but even he knows you're one of the cleanest men that ever +lived. They'd _know_ it was an act." + +"Not unless I give 'em time to think--or unless you do, before he fires +Jim--in which case we'll lose the game anyway. But how about you? If I +can knock 'em too groggy to think, will you carry on and keep 'em that +way?" + +"Watch my blasts!" Belle giggled gleefully. "I never tried anything like +that--any more than you have--but I'll guarantee to be just as low, +dirty, coarse, lewd, and crude as you are. Probably more so, because in +this particular case it'll be fun. You see, you're a man--you can't +possibly despise and detest that slimy stinker either in the same way or +as much as I do." + +"This ought to be good. Cut the rope, Jim." + +Even before the starship came to rest, Garlock drove a probe into the +_sanctum sanctorum_ of the Chancellery--an utterly unheard-of act of +insolence. + +"Foster! This is the _Pleiades_ coming in. Garlock calling. Hot up the +tri-di and the recorder, Toots. Put Fatso on, and snap into it.... I +said shake a leg!" + +"Why, I.... You...." + +"Stop stuttering and come to life, you half-witted bag! Gimme Ferber and +hurry it up--this ship's tricky." + +"Why, you ... I never...." Ferber's outraged First Secretary could +scarcely talk. "He ... he is...." + +"I know, Babe, I know--I could set that to music and sing it, with +gestures. 'Chancellor Ferber is in conference and cannot be disturbed,'" +he mimicked, savagely. "Put him on now--but _quick_!" + + * * * + +The tri-di tank brightened up; Chancellor Ferber's image appeared. He +was disheveled, surprised and angry, but Garlock gave him no chance to +speak. + +"Well, Fatso--at last! Where the _hell_ have you been all morning? I +want some stuff, just as fast as God will let you get it together," and +he began to read off, as fast as he could talk, a long list of highly +technical items. + +Ferber tried for many seconds to break in, and Garlock finally allowed +him to do so. + +"Are you crazy, Garlock?" he shouted. "What in hell's name are you +bothering _me_ with _that_ stuff for? You know better than that--make +out your requisitions and send them through channels!" + +"Channels, hell!" Garlock shouted back. "Hasn't it got through your +four-inch-thick skull into your idiot's brain yet that I'm in a hurry? I +don't want this stuff today; I want it day before yesterday--this damned +junk-heap is apt to fall apart any minute. So quit goggling and +slobbering at me, you wall-eyed, slimy, fat toad. Get that three hundred +weight of suet into action. _Hump_ yourself!" + +"You ... you ... Why, I was never so insulted...." + +"Insulted? You?" Garlock out-roared him. "Listen, Fatso. If I ever set +out to really insult you, you'll know it--it'll blister all the paint +off the walls. All I'm trying to do now is get you off that fat butt of +yours and get some action." + +Ferber became purple and pounded his desk in consuming anger. + +Garlock yelled louder and pounded harder. "Start rounding up this +stuff--but _fast_--or I'll come down there and take your job away from +you and do it myself--and for your own greasy hide's sake you'd better +believe I'm not just chomping my choppers, either." + +"You'll _What?_" Ferber screamed. "_You're fired!_" + +"_You_ fire _me_?" Garlock mimicked the scream. "And make it stick? +You'd better write that one up for the funnies. Why, you lard-brain, you +couldn't fire a cap-pistol." + +"Foster!" Ferber yelled. "Terminate Garlock as of now. Insubordination, +and misconduct, abuse of position, incompetence, malfeasance--everything +else you can think of. Blacklist him all over the System!" + +At the word "fired" Belle, had leaped to her feet and had stopped +laughing. + +"Miss Bellamy!" Ferber snapped. + +"Yes, sir?" she answered, sweetly. + +"You are hereby promoted to be Head of the...." + +"Oh, yeah?" Belle sneered, her voice cutting like a knife. "You +unprincipled, lascivious, lecherous _Hitler!_ Have you got the +unmitigated gall to take _me_ for a floozie? To think you can add _me_ +to your collection of bootlicking, round-heeled tramps?" + +"You're fired and blacklisted too!" + +"How nice! You know, I don't know of _anything_ I'd rather have happen +to me?" + + * * * + +"Get James on there--you, James...." + +"You don't need to fire me, you fat-headed old goat," James said, +contemptuously. "I've already quit--the exact second you fired Clee." + +"No you didn't!" Ferber screamed. "Resignation not accepted. You're +_Fired_! Dishonorably discharged--blacklisted everywhere--you'll _never_ +get another job--_anywhere_! And here's your slip, too!" Miss Foster was +very fast on the machines. + +James 'ported his slip up into the _Pleiades_, just as Garlock and Belle +had done with theirs, and disappeared with it as they had; reappearing +almost instantly. + +"Montandon!" + +"Chancellor Ferber, are you completely out of your mind? You can't +discharge either Miss Bellamy or me." + +"I can't?" he gloated. "Why not?" + +"Because neither of us is employed. By anybody." + +"That's right, Fatso," Belle said. "We just came along. Just to keep the +boys company. It's lonesome, you know, 'way out in deep space." + +Miss Foster ripped a half-filled-out termination form out of her machine +and hurled it into a waste-basket. Ferber's jaw dropped and his eyes +stared glassily, but he rallied quickly. + +"I can blacklist her, though, and maybe you think I won't. Belle Bellamy +will never get another job in this whole solar system as long as she +lives, except through me! Maybe I'll hire her some day, for something, +and maybe I won't. Are you listening, Bellamy?" + +"Not only listening, I'm reveling in every word." Belle laughed +derisively. "I hate to shatter such wonderful dreams--or do I? You see, +the _Pleiades_ really works, and the Galaxians own her; lock, stock, and +barrel. You wouldn't have any part of her, remember? Insisted on payment +for every nut, wire, and service? Now, they want to hire us four for a +big operation with this starship. Since you only loaned Garlock and +James to them, you might have made some legal trouble on that score, but +now that you've fired them both--and in such _conclusive_ +language!--we're all set. So when you blacklist us with the Society, +_please_ let me know--I want to take a tri-di in technicolor of you +doing it. How do you like _them_ parsnips, Your Royal Fatness?" + +"I'll see about that!" Ferber stormed. "We'll have an injunction out in +an hour!" + +"Go ahead," Garlock said, with a wide grin. "Have fun--the Galaxians +have legal eagles too, you know. One thing Belle forgot. Just in case +you recover consciousness some time and want to steal our termination +papers back--especially Belle's; what a howler _that_ was!--don't try +it. They're in a Gunther-blocked safe." + +Then, as comprehension began to dawn on Ferber's face: + +"S-u-c-k-e-r," Garlock drawled. + +The _Pleiades_ disappeared. + + + + +CHAPTER 9 + + +The _Pleiades_ landed on Margonia's Galaxian Field, where the Tellurians +found the project running smoothly, a little ahead of schedule. Delcamp +and Fao were working at their fast and efficient pace, but the hairy +pair from Thaker seemed to be, literally, everywhere at once. + +"Hi, Belle." Fao 'ported up and shook hands warmly. "I thought I was +going to have the first double-Prime baby, until _she_ appeared on the +scene." + +"Didn't it make you mad? I'd've been furious." + +"Maybe a little at first, but not after I'd talked with her for half a +minute. She'd never even thought of that angle. Besides, she thinks the +whole galaxy is fairly crawling with double-Primes." + +"That's funny--so does Clee. But there are other things--strictly not +angles--that she hasn't thought of, too. If those coveralls were half an +inch tighter they'd choke her to death. You'd think she'd...." + +"Huh?" Fao interrupted. "_You_ should scream--oh, that ridiculous +Tellurian prud...." + +"It _isn't_ ridiculous!" Belle snapped. "And it isn't prudishness, +either--not with me, anyway. It's just that," she ran an indicative +glance over Fao's lean, trim flanks and hard, flat abdomen, "it spoils +your figure. It's only temporary, of course, but...." + +"_Spoils_ it! Why, how _utterly_ idiotic! Why, it's magnificent! Just as +soon as it starts to show on me, Belle, I'm going to start wearing only +half as many clothes as I've got on now." + +"You couldn't." Belle eyed the other girl's bathing-suit-like garment. +Except for being blue instead of yellow, it was the same as the one she +had worn before. "Not without the League for Public Decency sending the +wagon out after you." + +"Oh, Miss Experience? Well, three-quarters, maybe...." + +"Hey, you two!" came Delcamp's hail. "How about cutting the gab and +getting some work done?" + +"Coming, boss! 'Scuse it, please!" and two fast and skillful women went +efficiently to work. + + * * * + +With six Prime Operators on the job the work went on very rapidly, yet +without error. The _Celestial Queen_ was finished, tested, and found +perfect, one full day ahead of James' most optimistic estimate for +construction alone. The six Primes conferred. + +"Do you want us to help you pick up the other Primes?" Delcamp asked. +"Your Main, big as it is, will be crowded, and we have three ships here +now instead of one." + +"I don't think so ... no," Garlock decided. "We told 'em we'd do it, and +in the _Pleiades_, so we'd better. Unless, Alsyne, you don't agree?" + +"I agree. The point, while of course minor, is very well taken. We and +our Operators--we brought six along; experts in their various +fields--can serve best by working on Tellus with its Galaxian Society in +getting ready for the meeting." + +"Oh, of course," Fao said. "Probably Deg and I should do the same +thing?" + +"That would be our thought." The two Thakerns were thinking--and +lepping--in fusion. "However," they went on carefully, "it must not be +and is not our intent to sway you in any action or decision. While not +all of you four, perhaps, are as yet fully mature, not one of you should +be subjected to any additional exterior stresses." + +"I hope you don't think that way about _all_ Primes," Garlock said, +grimly. "I'm going to smack some of those kids down so hard that their +shirt-tails will roll up their backs like window shades." + +"If you find such action either necessary or desirable, we will join you +quite happily in it. We go." + +The four remaining Primes looked at each other in puzzled surprise. + +"_What_ do you think about _that_?" Garlock asked finally, of no one in +particular. + +"I don't understand them," Fao said, "but they're mighty nice people." + +"Do you suppose, Clee," Belle nibbled at her lower lip, "that we're +getting off on the wrong foot with uniforms and admirals and things? +That with really adult Primes running things the Galactic Service would +run itself? No bosses or anything?" + +"Umnngk." Garlock grunted as though Belle had slugged him. "I hope not. +Or do I? Anyway, not enough data yet to make speculation profitable. But +I wonder, Miss Bellamy, if it would be considered an unjustifiable +attempt to sway you in any action or decision if I were to suggest--Oh, +ever so diffidently!--that if we're going to saddle up our bronks and +ride out on roundup tomorrow morning we ought to be logging some +sack-time right now?" + +"Considering the source, as well as and/or in connection with the +admittedly extreme provocation," Belle straightened up into a regal +pose, "You may say, Mister Garlock, without fear of successful +contradiction, that in this instance no umbrage will be taken, at least +for the moment." She broke the pose and giggled infectiously. "'Night, +you two lovely people!" + + * * * + +Belle was still sunny and gay when the _Pleiades_ reached Lizoria; +Garlock was inwardly happy and outwardly content. Semolo, however, was +his usual intransigent self. In fact, if it had not been for Mirea +Mitala, and the fact that she--metaphorically--did pin Semolo's ears +back, Garlock would not have taken him aboard at all. + +Thus, after loading on only one pair of Primes, that +auspiciously-beginning day had lost some of its luster; and as the day +wore on it got no better fast. Baver of Falne had not learned anything, +either--only Garlock's intervention saved the cocky and obstreperous +Semolo from a mental blast that would have knocked him out cold. + +Then there were Onthave and Lerthe of Crenna; Korl and Kirl of Gleer; +Parleof and Ginseona of Pasquerone; Atnim and Sotara of Flandoon, and +eighty others. Very few of them were as bad as Semolo; some of them, +particularly the Pasqueronians and the Gleerans, were almost as good as +Delcamp and Fao. + +This was the first time that any pair of them had ever come physically +close to any other Prime. Many of them had not really believed that any +Primes abler than themselves existed. The _Pleiades_ was crowded, and +Garlock and Belle were not giving to any of them the deference and +consideration and submissive respect which each considered his unique +due. + +Wherefore the undertaking was neither easy nor pleasant; and both +Tellurians were tremendously relieved when, the last pair picked up, +they flashed the starship back to Tellus and Delcamp, Fao, and the +Thakerns 'ported themselves aboard. + +"Give me your attention, please," Garlock said, crisply. Then, after a +moment, "Any and all who are not tuned to me in five seconds will be +returned immediately to their home planets and will lose all contact +with this group.... + +"That's better. For some of you this has been a very long day. For all +of you it has been a very trying day. You were all informed previously +as to what we had in mind. However, since you are young and callow, and +were thoroughly convinced of your own omniscience and omnipotence, it is +natural enough that you derived little or no benefit from that +information. You are now facing reality, not your own fantasies. + +"Each pair of you has been assigned a suite of rooms in Galaxian Hall. +Each suite is furnished appropriately; each is fully Gunthered for +self-service. + +"This meeting has not been announced to the public and, at least for the +present, will not be. Therefore none of you will attempt to communicate +with anyone outside Galaxian Hall. Anyone making any such attempt will +be surprised. + +"The meeting will open at eight o'clock tomorrow morning in the +auditorium. The Thakerns and the Margonians will now inform you as to +your quarters." There was a moment of flashing thought. "Dismissed." + + * * * + +At one second before eight o'clock the auditorium was empty. At eight +o'clock, ninety-eight human beings appeared in it; six on the stage, the +rest occupying the first few rows of seats. + +"Good morning, everybody," Garlock said, pleasantly. "Everyone being +rested, fed, and having had some time in which to consider the changed +reality faced by us all, I hope and am inclined to believe that we can +attain friendship and accord. We will spend the next hour in becoming +acquainted with each other. We will walk around, not teleport. We will +meet each other physically, as well as mentally. We will learn each +other's forms of greeting and we will use them. This meeting is +adjourned until nine o'clock--or, rather, the meeting will begin then." + +For several minutes no one moved. All blocks were locked at maximum. +Each Prime used only his eyes. + +Physically, it was a scene of almost overpowering perfection. The men +were, without exception, handsome, strong, and magnificently male. The +women, from heroically-framed Fao Talaho up--or down?--to surprisingly +slender Mirea Mitala, all were arrestingly beautiful; breathtakingly +proportioned; spectacularly female. + +Clothing varied from complete absence to almost complete coverage, with +a bewildering variety of intermediate conditions. Color was rampant. + + * * * + +Hair--or lack of it--was also an individual and highly variant matter. +Some of the women, like Belle and Fao, were content with one solid but +unnatural shade. One shaven head--Mirea Mitala's--was deeply tanned, but +unadorned, even though the rest of her body was almost covered by +precious stones. Another was decorated with geometrical and esoteric +designs in eye-searing colors. A third supported a structure--it could +not possibly be called a hat--of spun metal and gems. + +Among the medium-and long-hairs there were two-, three-, and multi-toned +jobs galore. Some of the color-combinations were harmonious; some were +sharply contrasting, such as black and white; some looked as though +their wearers had used the most violently-clashing colors they could +find. + +The prize-winner, however, was Therea of Thaker's enormous, inexplicable +mop; and it was that phenomenon that first broke the ice. + +The girl with the decorated scalp had been glancing questioningly at +neighbor after neighbor, only to be met by uncompromising stares. +Finally, however, her gaze met another, as interested as her own. This +second girl, whose coiffure was a high-piled confection of black, white, +yellow, red, blue, and green, half-masted her screen and said: + +"Oh, thanks, Jethay of Lodie-Yann. I'm glad everybody isn't going to +stay locked up all day. I'm Ginseona of Pasquerone. They call me 'Jin' +whenever they want to call me anything printable. And _this_," she dug a +knuckle into her companion's short ribs, whereupon he jumped, whirled +around, lowered his screen, and grinned, "is my ... the boy friend, +Parleof. Also of Pasquerone, of course. Par, both Jethay and I...." + +"Call me 'Jet'--everybody does," Jethay said: almost shyly, for a Prime. + +"Both Jet and I have been wondering about that woman's hair--over there. +How could you _possibly_ give a head of hair a static charge of fifty or +a hundred kilovolts and not have it leak off?" + +"You couldn't, unless it was a perfectly-insulated wig ... but it looks +as though she did, at that...." and Parleof paused in thought. + +"Maybe Byuk would have an idea or two," and Jet uttered aloud a dozen or +so crackling syllables that sounded as though they could have been +ladylike profanity. Whatever they were, Byuk jumped, too, and tuned in +with the other three. + +"Oh, it's quite easy, really," Therea said then. "Look." Her mass of +hair cascaded gracefully down around her neck and shoulders. "Look +again." Each hair stood fiercely out all by itself, exactly as before. +"All you young people will learn much more difficult and much more +important things before this meeting is over. I cannot tell you how glad +I am that so many of you are here." + + * * * + +And so it went, all over the auditorium. Once cracked, the ice broke up +fast. + +Fao and Delcamp worked hard; so did Belle and Garlock. Alsyne was a +potent force indeed--his abounding vitality and his tremendous smile +broke down barriers that logic could not affect. And Therea worked +near-miracles; did more than the other five combined. Her sympathy, her +empathy, her understanding and feeling, were as great as Lola's own; her +operative ability was as much greater than Lola's as Lola's was greater +than that of a bobby-soxed babysitter. + +Thus, when half of the hour was gone, Garlock heaved a profound sigh of +relief. He wouldn't have half the trouble he had expected--it was not +going to be a riot. And when he called the meeting to order he was +pleasanter and friendlier than Belle had ever before seen him. + +"While I am calling this meeting to order, it is only in the widest +possible sense that I am its presiding officer, for we have as yet no +organization by the delegated authority of which any man or any woman +has any right to preside. Yesterday I ruled by force; simply because I +am stronger than any one of you or any pair of you. Today, in the light +of the developments of the last hour, that rule is done; except, +perhaps, for one or two isolated and non-representative cases which may +develop today. By this time tomorrow, I hope that we will be forever +done with the law of claw and fang. For, as a much abler man has +said--'To the really mature mind, the concept of status is completely +invalid.'" + +"_He's putting that as a direct quote, Alsyne, and it isn't._" Belle +lanced the thought. + +"_He thinks it is_," Alsyne flashed back. "_That is the way his +mathematician's mind recorded it._" + +"This meeting is informal, preliminary and exploratory. A meeting of +minds from which, we hope, a useful and workable organization can be +developed. Since you all know what we think it basically should be, +there is no need to repeat it. + +"I must now say something that a few of you will construe as a threat. +You are all Prime Operators. Each pair of you is the highest development +of a planet, perhaps of a solar system. You can learn if you will. You +can cooperate if you will. Any couple here who refuses to learn, and +hence to cooperate, will be returned to its native planet and will have +no further contact with this group. + +"I now turn this meeting over to our first moderators, Alsyne and Therea +of Thaker; the oldest and ablest Prime Operators of us all." + +"Thank you, Garlock of Tellus. One correction, however, if you please. I +who speak am neither this man nor this woman standing here, but both. I +am the Prime Unit of Thaker. For brevity, and for the purposes of this +meeting only, I could be called simply 'Thaker.' Before calling for +general discussion I wish to call particular attention to two points, +neither of which has been sufficiently emphasized. + +"First, the purpose of a Prime Operator is to serve, not to rule. Thus, +no Prime should be or will be 'boss' of anything, except possibly of his +own starship. + +"Second, since we have no data we do not know what form the proposed +Galactic Service will assume. One thing, however, is sure. Whatever +power of enforcement or of punishment it may have will derive, not from +its Primes, but from the fact that it will be an arm of the Galactic +Council, which will be composed of Operators only. No Prime will be +eligible for membership." + + * * * + +Thaker went on to explain how each pair could obtain instruction and +assistance in many projects, including starships. How each pair would, +when they were mature enough, be coached in the use of certain abilities +they did not as yet have. He suggested procedures and techniques to be +employed in the opening up of each pair's volume of space. He then asked +for questions and comments. + +Semolo was the first. "If I'm a good little boy," he sneered, "and do +exactly as I'm told, and take over the region you tell me to and not the +one I want to, what assurance have I that some other Prime, just because +he's a year older than I am, won't come along and take it away from me?" + +"Your question is meaningless," Thaker replied. "Since you will not +'take over,' or 'have,' or 'own,' any region, it cannot be 'taken away +from you.'" + +"Then I will...." Semolo began. + +"You will keep still!" came a clear, incisive thought, just as Garlock +was getting ready to intervene. Miss Mitala then switched from thought, +which everyone there could understand, and launched a ten-second blast +of furious speech. Semolo wilted and the girl went on in thought: "He'll +be good--or else." + +A girl demanded recognition and got it. "Semolo's right. What's the use +of being Primes if we can't get any good out of it? We're the strongest +people of our respective worlds. I say we're bosses and should keep on +being bosses." + +Garlock got ready to shut her up, then paused; holding his fire. + +"Ah, yes, friend Garlock, you are maturing fast," came Thaker's thought +and, in answer to Garlock's surprise, it went on, "This situation will, +I think, be self-adjusting; just as will be those in the as yet +unexplored regions of space." + +The girl kept on. "I, at least, am going to keep on bossing my own +planet, milking it just as I...." + +Her companion had been trying to crack her shield. Failing in that, he +stepped in close and tapped her--solidly, but with carefully-measured +force--behind the ear. Before she could fall, he 'ported her back up +into their quarters. "This happens all the time," he explained to the +group at large. "Carry on." + +Discussion went on, with less and less acrimony, all the rest of the +day. And the next day, and the next. Then, argument having reached the +point of diminishing returns, the three starships took the forty-six +couples home. + + * * * + +The six Primes went into Evans' office, where the lawyer was deeply +engaged with Gerald Banks, the Galaxians' Public Relations Chief. Banks +was holding his head in both hands. + +"Garlock, maybe _you_ can tell me," Banks demanded. "How much of this +stuff, if any, can I publish? And if so, _how_?" + +"Nothing," Garlock said, flatly. + +"What do you think, Thaker?" Belle asked. "You're smarter than we are." + +"What Thaker thinks has no bearing," Garlock said. + +Belle, Fao, and Delcamp all began to protest at once, but they were +silenced by Thaker himself. + +"Garlock is right. My people are not your people; I know not at all how +your people think or what they will or will not believe. I go." + +"That lets Deg and me out too; then, double-plus," Fao said with a grin, +"so we'll leave that baby on your laps. We go, too." + +"Well, little Miss Weisenheimer," Garlock smiled quizzically at Belle, +"You grabbed the ball--what are you going to do with it?" + +"Nothing, I guess...." Belle thought for a minute. "We couldn't stuff +any part of that down the throat of a simple-minded six-year-old. We +haven't really _got_ anything, anyway. Time enough, I think, when we +have six or seven hundred planets in each region, instead of only one +planet. Maybe we'll know something by then. Does that make sense?" + +"It does to me," Garlock said, and the others agreed. + +"That Thakern 'we go' business sounds rough at first, but it's +contagious. Fao and Deggi caught it, and I feel like I'm coming down +with it myself. How about you, Clee?" + +"We go," Belle and Garlock said in unison, and vanished. + + * * * + +Aboard the _Pleiades_, the next few days passed quietly enough. James +set up, in the starship's memory banks, a sequence to mass-produce +instruction tapes and blueprints. Garlock and Belle began systematically +to explore the Tellurian Region. Now, however, their technique was +different. If either Prime of any world was not enthusiastic about the +project-- + +"Very well. Think it over," they would say. "We will get in touch with +you again in about a year," and the starship would go on to the next +planet. + +On Earth, however, things became less and less tranquil with every day +that passed. For, in deciding not to publish anything, Garlock had not +considered at all the basic function and the tremendous ability, power, +and scope of _The Press_. And Galaxian Hall had never before been closed +to the public; not for any hour of any day of any year of its existence. +A non-profit organization, dependent upon the public for its tremendous +income, the Galaxian Society had always courted that public in every +possible ethical way. + +Thus, in the first hour of closure, a bored reporter came out, read the +smoothly-phrased notice, and lepped it in to the desk. It might be +worth, he thought, half an inch. + +Later in the day, however, the world's most sensitive news-nose began to +itch. Did, or did not, this quiet, unannounced closing smell +ever-so-slightly of cheese? Wherefore, Benjamin Bundy, the newscaster +who had covered the starship's maiden flight, went out himself to look +the thing over. He found the whole field closed. Not only closed, but +Gunther-blocked impenetrably tight. He studied the announcement, his +sixth sense--the born newsman's sense for news--probing every word. + +"Regret ... research ... of such extreme delicacy ... vibration ... +temperature control ... one one-hundredth of one degree Centigrade...." + +He sought out his long-time acquaintance Banks; finding him in a +temporary office half a block away from the Hall. "What's the story, +Jerry?" he asked. "The _real_ story, I mean?" + +"You know, as much about it as I do, Ben. Garlock and James don't waste +time trying to detail me on that kind of business, you know." + +This should have satisfied any newshawk, but Bundy's nose still itched. +He mulled things over for a minute, then probed, finding that he could +read nothing except Banks' outermost, most superficial thoughts. + +"Well ... maybe ... but...." Then Bundy plunged. "All you have to do, +Jerry, is tell me screens-half-down that your damn story is true." + +"And that's the one thing I can't do," Banks admitted; and Bundy could +not detect that any part of his sheepishness was feigned. "You're just +too damned smart, Ben." + +"Oh--one of _those_ things? So that's it?" + +"Yup. I told Evans it might not work." + +That should have satisfied the reporter, but it didn't. "Now it doesn't +smell just a trifle cheesy; it stinks like rotten fish. You won't go +screens down on that one, either." + +"No comment." + +"Oh, joy!" Bundy exulted. "So big that Gerald Banks, the top press-agent +of all time, actually doesn't _want_ publicity! The starship works--this +lack-of-control stuff is the bunk--from here to another star in nothing +flat--Garlock's back, and he's brought--what _have_ you got in there, +Jerry?" + +"The only way I can tell you is in confidence, for Evans' release. I'd +like to, Ben, believe me, but I can't." + +"Confidence, hell! Do you think we won't get it?" + +"In that case, no comment." The interview ended and the siege began. + + * * * + +Newshounds and detectives questioned and peered and probed. They dug +into morgues, tabulating and classifying. They recalled and taped and +sifted all the gossip they had heard. They got a picture of sorts, but +it was maddeningly confusing and incomplete. And, since it was certain +that inter-systemic matters were involved, they could not +extrapolate--any guess was far too apt to be wrong. Thus nothing went on +the air or appeared in print; and, although the surface remained calm, +all newsdom seethed to its depths. + +Wherefore haggard Banks and harried Evans greeted Garlock with shouts of +joy when the four wanderers came back to spend the week end on Earth. + +"I'll talk to 'em," Garlock decided, after the long story had been told. +"Have somebody get hold of Bundy and ask him to come out." + +"Get _hold_ of him!" Banks snorted. "He's here. Twenty-four hours a day. +Eating sandwiches and cat-napping on chairs in the lobby. All you have +to do is unseal that door." + +Garlock flung the door wide. Bundy rushed in, followed by a more-or-less +steady stream of some fifty other top-bracket newspeople, both men and +women. + +"Well, Garlock, perhaps _you_ will give us some screens-down facts?" +Bundy asked, angrily. + +"I'll give you _all_ the screens-down...." + +"Clee!" "You're crazy!" "You can't!" "Don't!" Belle and all the +Operators protested at once. + + * * * + +Ignoring the objections, Garlock cut his shield to half and gave the +whole group a true account of everything that had happened in the +galaxy. Then, while they were all too stunned to speak, a grin of +saturnine amusement spread over his dark, five-o'clock-shadowed face. + +"You pestiferous gnats insisted on grabbing the ball," he sneered. "Now +let's see you run with it." + +Bundy came out of his trance. "_What_ a story!" he yelled. "We'll +plaster it...." + +"Yeah," Garlock said, dryly. "_What_ a story. Exactly." + +"Oh." Bundy deflated suddenly. "You'll have to prove it--demonstrate +it--of course." + +"Of course? You tickle me. Not only do I not have to prove it, I won't. +I won't even confirm it." + +Bundy glared at Garlock, then whirled on Banks. "If you don't give me +this in shape to use, you'll never get another line or mention +anywhere!" + +"Oh, no?" For the first time in his professional life Banks gloated, +openly and avidly. "From now on, my friend, who is in the saddle? Who is +going to come to whom? Oh, _brother_!" + +When the fuming newsmen had gone, Garlock said, "It'll leak, of course." + +"Of course," Banks agreed. "'It is rumored ...' 'from a usually reliable +source ...' and so on. Nothing definite, but each one of them will want +to put out the first and biggest." + +"That's what I figured. It'll have to break sometime and I thought +easing it out would be best ... but wait a minute...." he thought for +two solid minutes. "But we're going to need a lot of money, and we're +just about broke, aren't we?" This thought was addressed to Frank Macey, +the Galaxians' treasurer. + +"Worse than broke--much worse." + +"I could loan you a couple of credits, Frank," Belle said, brightly. +"But go ahead, Clee." + +"People like to be sidewalk superintendents. Suppose they could watch +the construction of an outpost so far away that nobody ever dreamed of +ever getting there. Could you do anything with that, Jerry?" + +"_Could I! Just!_" and Banks, went into a rhapsody. + +"That's the first good idea any one of you crackpots has had for five +years," Macey said, suddenly. "But wouldn't transportation of material +and so on present problems?" + +"No; just buying it," Garlock said, soberly. "Oh, rather, paying for +it." + +"No trouble there...." + +"What?" Belle exclaimed. "'No trouble,' it says here in fine print? How +the old skinflint has changed--instead of screaming his head off about +spending money he's actually _offering_ to. Frank, I'll loan you _three_ +credits!" + +"Hush, honey-chile, the men-folks are talking man-business. Look, Clee. +We'll use the _Pleiades_ at first, while we're building a regular +transport. A hundred passengers per trip, one thousand credits one +way...." + +"Wow!" Belle put in. "Our ex-skinflint is now a bare-faced, +legally-protected robber." + +"By no means, Belle," Evans said. "How much would that be per mile?" + +"Say ten round trips per day. That would be twenty million a day gross +for a small ship not intended for passenger service. When we get ships +built ... and the extras...." The money-man went into a financial revel +of his own. + +"Lots of extras," Banks agreed. "And oh, _brother_, what a +public-relations dream of heaven!" + +"Maybe I'm dumb," Garlock broke in, "but just what are you going to use +for money to get started?" + +"The minute we confirm any part of the story, the credit of the Galaxian +Society will jump from X-O to AA-A1." + +"Oh. So Belle and I will have to lose our _Pleiades_ for a while. I +don't like that, but we do need the money ... but we can have her for +this coming week?" + +"Of course." + +"So maybe we'd better break the story now, instead of letting it leak." + +"Can you, after what you just told them?" + +"Sure I can." He set his mind and searched. "Bundy, this is Garlock...." + +"So what am I supposed to do--burst into tears of joy?" + +"Save it. I changed my mind. You can break it as fast and as hard as you +like. I'll play along." + + * * * + +"Yeah? Why the switch? What's the angle?" + +"Strictly commercial. Get it from Banks." + +"And you'll--personally--go on my hour with it?" + +"Yes. Also, we'll demonstrate--take you to any star-system in the +galaxy. You and all the rest of the newshawks who were here and any +fifty VIP's you want to invite. Tomorrow morning all right with you?" + +"You, personally, in the _Pleiades_?" Bundy insisted. + +"Better than that. The other two starships, too. You've got +them--particularly those four Primes--clearly in mind?" + +"Not exactly, there was so much of it. Spread it on me now, huh?" +Garlock did so. "Thanks, pal, for the scoop. I'll crash it right now, +and follow up with Banks. 'Bye!" + +"Think you can deliver on that, Clee?" Banks asked. + +"Sure. Both Deggi and Alsyne will need a lot of extra money, fast. +They'll play along." + +They did; and that three-starship tour--which visited twenty solar +systems instead of one--was the most sensational thing old Earth had +ever spawned. + +Belle and Garlock did not spend that week end on Earth. "We go," they +said, as soon as the _Pleiades_ was empty of pressmen, and they took +James and Lola along. "If we _never_ see another such brawl as this is +going to be," Belle told Banks, who was basking in glory and entreating +them to stay on for the show, "it will be exactly twenty minutes too +soon." + +Thus it came about that Earth's first four deep-spacemen were completely +out of reach when unexpected developments began. + + * * * + +Alonzo P. Ferber was one of the VIP's on Bundy's personally-conducted +tour of the stars. As has been said, he was a very able executive. He +had an extremely keen profit-sense. This new thing smelled--simply +reeked--of money. SSE would _have_ to get in on it. + +Ferber was not thin-skinned; where money was concerned it would never +even occur to him to cherish grudges or to retain animosities. Wherefore +SSE's purchasing department suggested to the Galaxian Society that +negotiations be opened concerning licenses, franchises, royalties, and +so on. These suggestions were politely but firmly brushed off. Then +emissaries were sent, of ever-increasing caliber and weight. Next, +Ferber himself tried the tri-di; and finally, he came in person. + +Rebuffed, he made such legally-sound threats that Evans and Macey agreed +to a meeting; stating flatly, however, that no commitments could +possibly be made without the knowledge and approval of the Society's +president, Cleander Garlock. Thus, at the meeting, the Galaxians made +only two statements that were even approximately definite. One was that +Garlock would probably return to Earth during the afternoon or evening +of the following Friday; the other that they would take the matter up +with Garlock as soon as they could. + +After that meeting Macey was unperturbed, but Evans was a deeply worried +man. + +"You see," he explained, "the real crux was not even mentioned." + +"No? What is it, then?" + +"Operators, Primes, and the practically non-existent laws pertaining to +their ... what? Labor? Skill? Genius? For instance, could Garlock be +forced to do whatever it is that he does? On the other hand, if Ferber +offered Belle Bellamy five million credits a year to 'work' for SSE, is +there anything we could do about it?" + +"Oh. I thought all there was to it was that you'd delay 'em for a year +or so and that'd be it." + +"Far from it. To date I have listed fifty-eight points for which, as far +as we can learn, there are no precedents," and the lawyer called a +meeting of his staff. + +For Belle and Garlock, the week went fast. On Friday afternoon, high +above Earth's Galaxian Field, Garlock said, more than half regretfully, +"No more fun. Back to the desk. Back to the salt-mines." + +"I weep for you," Belle snickered. "Sob, sob. Shed him a tear, Lola." + +"One tear coming up. Oh, woe; oh, woe...." + +"Oh, whoa!" James snorted. "Why the sob-and-moan routine, Clee, from a +guy who's going to be monarch of all he surveys?" + +"His conscience aches him," Belle explained. "This monarching business +is tough if you haven't thought about how to monarch, and he hasn't. +Have you, Clee?" + +"Not a lick." Garlock smiled slightly. "I been busy." + +"You better start to," she advised, darkly. "You aren't busy now and we +have an hour. We better confer--I'll make like a slave-driver." + +They 'ported into his room and he set the blocks. His attitude changed +instantly. "Nice act, Belle. What was it all about?" + +"That theory of yours. Your predictions are too uncannily accurate to be +guesswork, and the more times you dead-center the bullseye the worse +scared I get. I really want to know, Clee." + +"Okay. It isn't complete--I need a lot more data--but I'll show you what +I have. It's fairly strong medicine and it comes in big chunks." + +"It would have to--it covers the whole macrocosmic universe, doesn't +it?" + +"Yes. I'll start with the striking fact that, on every out-galaxy planet +we visited, the human beings were _Homo sapiens_ to N decimal places. +Fertile with each other and, according to expert testimony, with us. All +planets had humanoid 'guardians,' the Arpalones and Arpales. Some, but +not all, had one or more non-human, more-or-less-intelligent races, such +as the Fumapties, the Lemarts, the Sencors, and so on. These other races +never seemed to fight each other, but both races of Guardians fought any +and all of them, on sight and to the death. What do those facts mean to +you?" + + * * * + +"Nothing beyond face value. I've thought about them but I haven't been +able to come up with anything." + +"I have." He unrolled a sheet of drafting paper covered with diagrams, +symbols, and equations. "But before I go into this stuff, consider the +human body. How many red cells are there in your blood stream?" + +"Billions, I suppose." + +"And there are billions of human beings on billions of planets; each +having red blood cells identical, as far as we know, with yours and +mine. Also white cells. Also, sometimes, various kinds of pathogenic +micro-organisms, such as staphs, streps, viruses, spiros, and so on. + +"Okay. My thought is that the Lemarts, Ozobes, and the like are +analogous to disease-producing organisms. We saw the full range of +effects--from none at all up to death itself." + +"But they--the Ozobes and so on--died, too." + + * * * + +"How long do disease germs live in a human body after they've killed +it?" + +"But that horrible Dilipic--the golop. They don't seem to fit." + +"Try that on for size as cancer. Also, the Arpalones typed us before +they'd let us land on any planet. Why didn't we blast them out of the +way and land anyway?" + +"Why, we didn't want to. It wasn't worth while." + +"We couldn't. Psychic block. And if we had, we would have died. +Different blood-types don't mix." + +"So you and I are merely two red cells in the bloodstream of a +super-dooper-galactic super-monster? Phooie!" she jeered. "That chestnut +was propounded a thousand years ago. Are you trying to take me for a +ride on _that_ old sawhorse?" + +"That's the attitude I had at first. So now we're ready for the chart." +He pointed to a group of symbols. "We start with symbolic logic; +manipulating like so to get this." There was a long mathematical +dissertation; a mind-to-mind, rigorous, point-by-point proof. + +"Q. E. D." Garlock concluded. + +"I see your math, and if I believed half of it I'd be scared witless. +Those few pieces fit, but they're scattered around in vast areas of +blankness and you're jumping around like the Swiss miss leaping from Alp +to Alp. And how about our own galaxy, the most important piece of all? +It's different, and we're different, mentally. That wrecks your whole +theory." + +"No. I told you I need a lot more data. Also, beyond a certain point the +analogy appears to get looser." + +"_Appears_ to! It's as loose as a goose!" + +"Think a minute. Is it actually loose, or are we getting up into +concepts that no human mind can grasp? That might be the case, you +know." + +"Oh.... You're quite a salesman, Clee, but I'm still not buying." + +"Our galaxy is a bit of specialized tissue--part of a ganglion, maybe. +Over here, see? I'll have to leave it dangling until we find some more +like it." + +"I see. But anyway, you haven't a tenth's worth of real material on that +whole sheet. Feed everything you have there into a computer and it'd +just laugh at you." + +"Sure it would. The great advantage of the human brain is its ability to +arrive at valid conclusions from incomplete data. For instance, what +would your computer do with the figures you shot at me the day we +started out? 'Thirty-nine, twenty-two, thirty-nine. Five seven. One +thirty-five.' Yet they're completely informative." + +"To anyone interested in that kind of figures, yes." + +"Which includes practically all adults. Then take the figure three point +one four one five nine. Compy would still be baffled; but, unlike the +first set, most people would be, too." + +"Yes. Perhaps two out of ten would get your message." + +"Now take something really new, like the original work on gravitation or +relativity. No possible computer would be of any use. That takes a +_brain_!" + +"The brain of a Newton or an Einstein, yes." Belle thought for a minute, +then grinned at him impishly. "Now watch the brain of a Bellamy perform. +Get into high gear, brain.... I wish I knew something about biochemical +embryology; but I read somewhere that ova are sterile, so our galaxy is +an ovum. Therefore our super-galooper is a gal--which incontrovertible +fact accounts for and explains rigorously the long-known truth that +women always have been, are now, and always will be vastly superior to +men in every quality, aspect, and...." + +"Hold it!" Garlock snapped. His face hardened into intense +concentration. Then: "Do you think you're kidding, Belle?" + +"Why, of _course_ I'm kidding, you big...." + +"Look here, then." He picked up a pencil and filled in blank after blank +after blank. "I'm making one unjustifiable assumption--that the +_Pleiades_ is the first intergalactic starship. The super-being is a +female, and she is just becoming pregnant...." + +"Flapdoodle! There are no blood cells in a sperm, and I don't think +there are any in an ovum." + +"I didn't mention either sperm or ovum. The analogy is so loose here +that it holds only in the broadest, most general terms. The actual +process of reproduction is unknowable. But wherever we went, we changed +things. Not only by what we actually did, but also as a +catalyst--no...." + +"No, not a catalyst. A hormone." + +"Exactly. Each of these changes would cause others, and so on. An +infinite series. Calling the first three terms alpha, beta, and gamma, +we operate like this...." Garlock's pencil was flying now. "Following +me?" + +"On your tail." Belle was breathing hard; as the blank spaces became +fewer and fewer her face began to turn white. + +"From this we get that ... and _that_ makes the whole bracket tie into +the same conclusion I had before. So, except for that one assumption, +it's solid." + + * * * + +"My Lord, Clee!" Belle studied the chart. "I mentioned Newton and +Einstein ... add to that 'the brain of a Garlock, better than either.'" +Then, seeing his reaction, "You're blushing. I didn't think...." + +"Cut the comedy. You know I couldn't carry either of their hats to a +dog-fight." + +"And I would _never_ have believed that you are basically modest." + +"I said cut out the kidding, Belle." + +"I'm deadly serious. A brain that could do _that_," she waved at the +chart, "... well, even I am not enough of a heel to belittle one of the +most tremendous intuitions ever achieved by man. Not that I like it. +It's horrible. It denies mankind everything that made him come up from +the slime--everything that made him man." + + * * * + +"Not at all. Nothing is changed, in man's own frame of reference. It +merely takes our thinking one step farther. That step, of course, isn't +easy." + +"_That_ is the understatement of all time. What it will _do_, though, is +set up an inferiority complex that would wipe out the whole human race." + +"There might be some slight tendency. Also, since my basic assumption +can't be justified, the whole thing may be fallacious. So I'm not going +to publish it." He glanced at the chart and it vanished. + +"Clee!" Belle stared, almost goggle-eyed. "With your name? The +tremendous splash ... I see. You're really grown up." + +"Not all the way, probably; but pretty nearly--I hope." + +"But some of the ... not exactly corollaries, but...." Belle's face, +which had regained some of its color, began again to pale. + +"Which one of the many?" + +"The most shattering one, to me, concerns intelligence. If it is true +that our vaunted mentality is only that of one blood cell compared to +that of a whole brain ... and that intelligence is banked, level upon +level ... well, it's simply mind-wrecking. I've been trying madly not to +think of that concept, at all, but I can't put it off much longer." + +"Now's as good a time as any. I'll hold your hand." + +"You'd better hold more of me than that, I think." + +"I'll do even that, in a good cause." He put his arms around her; held +her close. "Go ahead. Face it. All the way down and all the way up. +You've got what it takes. You'll come back sane and it'll never bother +you again." + +She closed her eyes, put her head on his shoulder. Her every muscle went +tense. + +Neither of them ever knew how long they stood there, close-clasped and +motionless in silence; but finally her muscles loosened. She lifted her +head; raised her brimming eyes. + +"All the way down?" he asked. + +"To almost a geometrical point." + +"And all the way up?" + +"I touched the fringe of infinity." + +"Intelligence all the way?" + +"All the way. I couldn't understand any of them, of course, but I looked +each one squarely in the eye." + +"Good girl. And you're still sane." + +"As much so as ever ... more so, maybe." She disengaged herself, sat +down on the bed, lighted a cigarette, and smoked half of it. Then she +stood up. "Clee, if anything in the whole universe ever knocked hell out +of anything, that did out of me. I'm going to do something that will +take about ten minutes. Will you wait right here?" + +"Of course. Take all the time you want." + + * * * + +When she came back Garlock leaped to his feet and stared speechlessly. +He could not even whistle. Belle's hair was now its natural deep, rich +chestnut, her lipstick was red, her nails were bare, and she wore a +white shirt and an almost-knee-length crimson skirt. + +"Here's what I'm going to do," she said, quietly. "I'm going to be a +plain, ordinary brownette. I'm going to marry you as soon as we land; +registered permanent family. I'm going to have six kids and spoil them +rotten. In short, I have grown up--partly up, at least--too." + +"Plain?" he managed, finally. "Ordinary? You? Yes--like a super-nova +going off under a man's feet!" With a visible effort, Garlock pulled +himself together. "I don't need to tell you what a surprise this is, and +can't tell you what it means to me. But you never have said you love me. +Hadn't you better?" + +"I'm afraid to. Our next kiss will be different. I'd spoil all this nice +new make-up." She tried to grin in her old-time fashion, but failed. She +sobered, then, and went on with a completely new intensity. "Listen, +Clee. I'm all done--forever--lying and pretending to you. I love you so +much that ... well, there simply aren't any thoughts. And when I think +of how I acted, it hurts--Lord, how it hurts! I don't see how you can +love me at all. It'd take a miracle." + +"Miracles happen, then." He put both arms around her, very gently. "For +the first time in my life I'm cutting my screens to zero. Come in." + +"What?" For a moment she was unable to believe the thought. Then, +cutting her own shield, she went fully into his mind. "Oh, I didn't dare +hope you could _possibly_ feel.... Oh, this is wonderful, Clee--simply +_wonderful_!" + +As the two fully-opened minds met and joined she threw both arms around +him and their embrace tightened as though their bodies were trying to +become as nearly one as were their minds. Finally she pulled herself +away and put up a solid block. + +"What a mess!" she said, shakily. "Lipstick all _over_ you." + +"Why words, sweetheart? That was perfect." + +"Oh, it was ... but wide open, with such a mind as yours...." she +paused, then came back to normal almost with a snap. "... but say; I'll +bet that's what Therea and Alsyne were doing. That 'fusion' thing. We'll +practise it tonight." + +He pondered briefly. "Sure it was." + +"But he said they learned it from us. How could he have, when we.... Oh, +we did, of course, in moments of high stress ... but we didn't actually +_know_ it...." She paused. + +"We wouldn't admit it, you mean, even to ourselves." + +"Maybe; and of course it never occurred to us--callow youngsters we were +then, weren't we?--that it could be done for more than a microsecond at +a time. Or that two people could ever, possibly, _live_ that way." + +"Or what a life it would be. So let's chop this and get back to you and +me." + +"Uh-huh, let's," she agreed, but in a severely practical tone. "You've +got lipstick even on your shirt. So change it and I'll go put on a new +face and bring over some stuff and clean you up." + +While she cleaned, she talked. "I told you our next kiss would be +different, but I had no idea ... wow! _That_ will be as much different, +too, I'm sure.... Hm-h-h-nh?" Again she pressed herself against him; +this time in a somewhat different fashion. + +"Stop that, you little devil, or I'll...." His arms came up of +themselves, but he forced them back down. "... No, I won't. We'll save +that for tonight, too." + +"I'll behave myself!" She laughed, pure joy in voice, eyes, and smile. +"I bet myself you wouldn't and I won! You're tall, solid gold, Clee +darling--the absolute top." + +"Thanks, sweetheart. I wish that were true," he said, soberly. "But I +can't help wondering if two such hellions as you and I are can make a go +of marriage--no, cancel that. We'll do it--all we have to figure out is +how." + +"I know what you mean. Not at first--it'll be purely wonderful then. +After five years, say, when the glamor has worn off and I've had three +of our six children and two of them are in bed with the epizootic and +I'm all frazzled out and you're strung up tight as a bowstring with +overwork and...." + +"Hold it! Uh-uh. No. If we can live together six months--or even six +weeks--without killing each other, we'll have it made. It's at first +that it'll be rugged. No matter how rugged it gets, though, we'll know +one thing for certain sure. We _couldn't_ live apart. That'll give us +enough leverage. Check?" + +"And double check." She giggled sunnily. "I'll take care of any and all +situations, whatever they are, that arise in the first six months. +You'll be responsible for the next sixty years. That's a perfectly fair +and equitable division of responsibility. Now kiss me and we'll go." + + * * * + +When Garlock cut the Gunther blocks, however, James' thought came +instantly in. "Been trying to get you for twenty minutes," and in a +couple of seconds he brought Garlock and Belle up to date. "So Fatso's +been waiting in Evans' office. He's throwing fits all over the place and +Evans and Macey are going quietly mad." + +"He'll have to wait," Garlock decided instantly. "No matter how many +fits he has, no such decision is going to be made until there's enough +of a Galactic Council to make it." + +"Well, you'll have to tell him that yourself. In person." + +"I'll do just that, and tell him so he'll stay told." + +"Okay, but shake a...." + +Belle and Garlock 'ported out into the Main, arms around each other like +a couple of college freshmen. + +"... leg-g--ug--gug...." James gurgled. + +"_Belle!_" Lola shrieked. "_Why--Belle--Bellamy!_" + +"_What_ goes _on_ here?" James demanded. + +"Nothing much," Garlock replied, although he blushed almost as deeply as +Belle did. "We just decided to quit fighting, is all. Cut the rope, +Junior, and let the old bucket drop." + + + THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Galaxy Primes, by Edward Elmer Smith + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GALAXY PRIMES *** + +***** This file should be named 20898.txt or 20898.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/8/9/20898/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, V. L. Simpson and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + |