by E. E. Smith
CHAPTER 3
Lola and Garlock went to town in the same taxi. As they were about toseparate, Garlock said:
"I don't like those hell-divers, yellow, green, or any other color; andyou, Brownie, are very definitely not expendable. Are you any good atmind-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 intoplatinum or uranium--anything good and heavy. For one of these monstersyou'd need two or three micrograms. For a battleship, up to maybe a gramor so. 'Port it to the exact place you want it to detonate. Reconvertand 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 manypeople, besides the monster. No, I'll 'port back to the Main if anythingattacks 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 straighton, toward the business center, to resume his study at the point wherehe 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 betweenguardians and yellow and green-bat monsters, to none of which he paidany more attention than did the people around him. Then a third kind ofenemy appeared--two of them at once, flying wing-and-wing--and Garlockstopped and watched.
Vivid, clear-cut stripes of red and black, even on the tremendouslylong, 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 afraction of a second too late. That fraction was enough. While the firstguardian was still high in air, grappling with one tiger, the otherswung on a dime--the blast of air from his right wing blowing people inthe crowd below thither and yon and knocking four of them flat--and tookthe guardian's head off his body with one savage swipe of afrightfully-armed paw. Disregarding the carcass both attackers whirledsharply at the second guardian, meeting him in such fashion that hecould not come to firm grips with either of them, and that battle wasvery brief indeed. More and more guardians were leaping in from alldirections, however, and the two tigers were forced to the ground andslaughtered.
Since six guardians had been killed, eight guardians marched up thestreet, dragging grisly loads. Eight bodies, friend and foe alike, weredumped into a manhole; eight creatures squatted down and cleanedthemselves 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--maybenot 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 myright--teleport in."
"Coming in on your right."
"And I on your left!" Belle's thought drove in as he had never beforefelt it driven. Being a Prime, she did not need a focus spot andappeared 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 thevan of that horrible flight of monsters, drifting before it.
Belle got in the first shot. Not only did the victim disappear--a coupleof dozen around it were torn to fragments and the force of the blaststaggered all three Tellurians.
"Damn it, Belle, cut down or get to hell out!" Garlock yelped. "I saidtwo point four _micrograms_, not milligrams. Just kill 'em, don'tscatter '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 youto 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; eachfollowed by the plunge of a tiger-striped body to the ground. Faster andfaster the explosions came as the Operator and the Primes learned theroutine and the rhythm of the job.
Nor were they long alone. The roaring, screaming howl of jets came upfrom behind them; four Arpalones appeared at their left, strung outalong the front. Each held an extraordinarily heavy-duty blaster in eachof his four hands; sixteen terrific weapons were hurling death into theflying horde.
"Slide over, Terrestrials," came a calm thought. "You three take theirleft front, we'll take their right and center."
As they obeyed the instructions, "_They_ don't give a damn where thepieces fly!" Belle protested. "Why should we be fussy about theirstreet-cleaning department? _I'm_ starting to use fives."
"Okay. We'll have to hit 'em harder, anyway, to keep up. Five or maybesix--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 nowalmost 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 notfire, of course, until they reached the city limits. There they openedup as one, and the air below became literally filled with fallingmonsters. Some had only broken wings; some were dead, but more or lesswhole; many were blown to unrecognizable bits and scraps of flesh.
Another flight screamed into place immediately behind the first; thenanother and another and another until six flights had passed. Then camefour helicopters, darting and hovering, whose gunners picked offindividually whatever survivors had managed to escape all six waves offighters.
"That's better," came a thought from the Arpalone nearest Garlock."Situation under control, thanks to you Tellurians. Supposed to be twosquads of us gunners, but the other squad was busy on another job.Without you, this could have developed into a fairly nasty littleinfection. I don't know what you're doing or how you're doing it--wewere 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. Groundwork is none of our business. Also, these guns would raise altogethertoo much hell down there. Bound to hit some humans."
"Check. Those Arpales aren't very intelligent, you Arpalones areextremely so. Any connection?"
"'Way back, they say. Common ancestry, and doing two parts of the samejob. 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. Probablyfairly important, some way or other, though, since it's our job to seethat the silly, gutless things keep on living. We have nothing to dowith 'em, ever. The only reason I'm talking to you is you're not reallyhuman at all. You're a fighter, too, and a damn good one."
"I know what you mean,
" and the three Tellurians turned their attentiondownward 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, andthose few more moving unconcernedly away from the center of violence.All over the park thousands of Arpales were fighting furiously andhundreds of them were dying. For hundreds of the sencors had sufferedonly wing injuries, the long fall to ground had not harmed them further,and their tremendous fighting ability had been lessened very little ifat 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 aboutover. What happens to the bodies they're dumping down manholes? Theycan'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. Ofcourse--certainly. Why not?"
"Why, self-respect ... common decency ... respect for one's fellow-man... family ties...." Garlock was floundering; to be called upon toexplain his ingrained antipathy to such a custom was new to hisexperience.
"You are silly. Worse, squeamish. Worst, supremely illogical." TheArpalone paused, then went on as though trying to educate a hopelesslyillogical inferior, "While we do not kill Arpales purposely--except whenthey over-breed--why waste good meat as fertilizer? If a diet iswholesome, nutritious, well-balanced, and tasty, what shred ofdifference 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 thinkmy 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 bigcasino and still beat the lights and liver out of you at your own gameof cold-blooded logic!"
"We gunners must go now. Would you like to come along with us and seethe end of this particular breeding-hole of sencors?"
At high speed the seven flew back along the line of advance of theflying-tiger horde; across a barren valley, toward and to the side of amountain.
* * *
An area almost a mile square of that mountain's side was a burned,blasted, churned, pocked, cratered and flaming waste; and the fourhelicopters were still working on it. High-energy beams blasted, fairlyvolatilizing the ground as they struck in as deep as they could bedriven. High-explosive shells bored deep and detonated, hurlingshattered rock and soil and yellow smoke far and wide; establishing newcraters by destroying the ones existing a moment before.
While it seemed incredible that any living thing larger than a microbecould emerge under its own power from such a hell of energy, many flyingtigers did; apparently being blown aloft along with the hithertoundisturbed volume of soil in which the creatures had been. Most of themwere not fully grown; some were so immature as to be unrecognizable toan untrained eye; but from all four helicopters hand-guns snapped andcracked. Nothing--but _nothing_--was leaving that field of carnagealive.
"What are you gunners supposed to be doing here?" Garlock asked.
"Oh, the 'copters will be leaving pretty soon--they've got other placesto go. But they won't get them all--some of the hatches are too deep--sous four gunners will stick around for two-three days to kill thelate-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. "CommanderKnahr, can you hop over here a minute? I want you to meet these thingswe'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 everheard of."
Another Arpalone appeared, indistinguishable to Tellurian eyes from anyone of the others.
"But why do you want to mix into something that's none of yourbusiness?" Knahr was neither officious nor condemnatory. He simply couldnot understand.
"Since you have no concept of our quality of curiosity, just call iteducation. The question is, do or do you not want those fourdeeply-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 togive us about five miles clearance, and we'll all fall back, too."
They drew back, and there were four closely-spaced explosions of suchviolence that one raggedly mushroom-shaped cloud went into thestratosphere and one huge, ragged crater yawned where once churnedground 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 backgroundcount.
"There's no life left underground, so you needn't keep this squad ofgunners tied up here," Garlock told the commander. "Before we go, I wantto ask a question. You have visitors once in a while from other solarsystems, so you must have a faster-than-light drive. Can you tell meanything about it?"
"No. Nothing like that would be any of my business." Knahr and the fourgunners disappeared; the helicopters began to lumber away.
"Well, _that_ helps--I don't think," Garlock thought, glumly. "_What_ aworld! Back to the Main?"
* * *
In the Main, after a long and fruitless discussion, Garlock calledGovernor Atterlin, who did not know anything about a faster-than-lightdrive, either. There was one, of course, since it took only a few daysor a few weeks to go from one system to another; but Hodell didn't haveany such ships. No ordinary planet did. They were owned and operated bypeople who called themselves "Engineers." He had no idea where theEngineers came from; they didn't say.
Garlock then tried to get in touch with the Arpalone Inspector who hadchecked the _Pleiades_ in, and could not find out even who it had been.The Inspector then on duty neither knew or cared anything about eitherfaster-than-light drives or Engineers. Such things were none of hisbusiness.
"What difference would it make, anyway?" James asked. "No drive thattakes 'a few weeks' for an intra-galaxy hop is ever going to get us backto 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 familiarpattern of Galactic arrangement. The other three watched James set upfor 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. Maybethree or four more hops will give me something to work on."
"I hope so," James said, "because here goes nothing," and he snapped thered switch.
* * *
It was not nothing. Number Two was another guardian Inspector andanother planet very much like Hodell. It proved to be so far from bothEarth and Hodell, however, that no useful similarities were found in anytwo 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 andGarlock designed and built a high-speed comparator. Thus the timerequired per stop was reduced from days to hours.
Number Four produced a surprise. When Garlock touched the knob of thetesting-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 mus
t not land," theInspector 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. "Weare not invincible. However, it would do you no good. If any one of youfour leaves that so-heavily-insulated vessel in the atmosphere of thisplanet you will die. Not quickly, but slowly and with difficulty."
"But you haven't tested _me_!" Belle said. "Do you mean they'll attackus on sight?"
"There is no need to test more than one. Anyone who could live near anyof you could not live on this planet. Nor will they attack you. Don'tyou 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, nomatter how peaceable your intentions may be, many of our human beingswould die before you would, but you will not live to get back to yourship 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 goaway 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 hungrysome 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 everythingfundamental. One was so far advanced that almost all of its humanitywere Seconds; one so backward--or so much younger--that its strongesttelepaths were only Fours. The Tellurians became acquainted with, andupon occasion fought with, various types of man-sized monsters inaddition 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, andpersons went into the starship's tapes, but that welter of names neednot be given here; this is not a catalogue. Every planet they visitedwas peopled by _Homo Sapiens_; capable of inter-breeding with theTellurians and eager to do so--especially with the Tellurian men. Theirstrict monogamy was really tested more than once; but it held. Each hadbeen visited repeatedly by starships; but all Garlock could find outabout them was that they probably came from a world somewhere that wasinhabited by compatible human beings of Grade Two. He could learnnothing 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 ofours and find out. What do you think they've got down there, CleeGarlock, 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 itis, 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 toformulate 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 somemath. We know that we're making mighty long jumps. Assuming that they'reat perfect random, and of approximately the same length, the probabilityis greater than one-half that we're getting farther and farther awayfrom Tellus. Is there a jump number, N, at which the probability isone-half that we land nearer Tellus instead of farther away? Myjump-at-conclusions guess is that there isn't. That the first jump setup 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 theuniverse are very large compared to the length of our jumps. I'll see ifI can put it into shape to feed to Compy. You've always held that thesegenerators work at random--the rest of those assumptions are based onyour theory?"
"Check. I'm not getting anywhere studying my alleged Xenology, so I'mgoing 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 werecompatible with the people of this world, but the Inspector advised themagainst landing.
"I do not forbid you," he explained, carefully. "Our humans are about todestroy themselves with fission and fusion bombs. They send missiles,without warning, against visitors. Thus, the last starship to visit ushere disregarded my warning and sent down a sensing device asusual--Engineers do not land on non-telepathic worlds, you know--and itwas destroyed."
"You're a Guardian of Humanity," Garlock said. "Can't you straightenpeople out?"
"Of course not!" The Arpalone was outraged. "We guard humanity againstincompatibles and non-humans; but it is not our business to interferewith humanity if it wishes to destroy itself. That is its privilege andits 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'regoing 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 tryto straighten them out. We can postpone the blow-up a few years, atleast."
"No objections, of course. In fact, I can say that we Guardians ofHumanity 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-warheadedrocket came flaming up.
"Hm ... m ... m. Ingenious little gadget, at that," James reported,after studying it thoroughly. "Filthy thing for fall-out, though, if itgoes 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 thatworld's third and outermost moon at the moment, he might have seen atremendous flash of light, a cloud of dust, and the formation of a newand different crater among the hundreds already there.
"No use waiting for 'em, Jim. All three of you toss everything they'vegot out onto that same moon, being sure not to hurt anybody--yet. I'llstart asking questions."
The captain who had fired the first missile appeared in the Main. Hereached for his pistol, to find that he did not have one. He tensed hismuscles to leap at Garlock, to find that he could not move.
Garlock drove his probe. "Who is your superior officer?" and before theman 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 forDictator--Sovig. Missile launching stations and missile storage? Youdon't know? Who does?"
Another man appeared, and for twenty minutes the _Pleiades_ darted aboutthe continent.
"Now submarines, atomic and otherwise, and all surface vessels capableof launching missiles." Another man appeared.
This job took a little longer, since the crew of each vessel had to beteleported back to their bases. An immense scrap-pile, probably visiblewith a telescope of even moderate power, built up rapidly on the thirdmoon.
"Now a complete list of your uranium-refining plants, your militaryreactors, heavy-water and heavy-hydrogen plants, and so on." Another manappeared, but the starship did not move.
"Here is a list of plants," and Garlock named them, coldly. "You willremember them. I will return you to your office, and you may--or maynot, as you please--order them evacuated. Look at your watch. We startdestroying them in exactly seventy-two of your hours from this moment.Any and all persons on the properties will be killed; any within aradius of ten of your miles may be killed. Our explosives are extremelypowerful, 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'sRepublics.' Where is its capital? Slide us over there, Jim. Now, PrimeMinister Sovig, you and your ally, the second and first most populousnations of your world, are combining to destroy--a pincers movement, letus say?--the third largest nation, or rather, group of nations--theNations of the North.... Oh, I see. Third only in population, but firstin productive capacity and technology. They should be destroyed becausetheir ideology does not agree with yours. They are too idealistic tostrike first, so you will. After you strike, they will not be able to.Whereupon you, personally, will rule the world. I will add to thatsomething you are not thinking, but should: You will rule it until oneof your friends puts his pistol to the back of your neck and blows yourbrains out."
* * *
They were now over the ally's capitol; which launched five missilesinstead of one. Garlock collected four more men and studied them.
"Just as bad--if possible, worse. Who, Lingonor, is the leader of youropposition, if any?" Another man, very evidently of the same race,appeared.
"Idealistic, in a way, but spineless and corrupt," Garlock announced toall. "His administration was one of the most corrupt ever known on thisworld. We'll disarm them, too."
They did. The operation did not take very long; as this nation--orgroup, it was not very clear exactly what it was--while very high inmanpower, was very low in technology.
The starship moved to a station high above the Capitol Building of theNations of the North and moved slowly downward until it hung poised onescant mile over the building. Missiles, jets, and heavy guns were setand ready, but no attack was made. Therefore Garlock introduced himselfto 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 eminentscientist, the head of a church, the leaders of the legislative body andfour political bosses, the biggest business man, biggest labor leader,and biggest gangster. Fourteen men." As Garlock studied them his facehardened. "I thought to leave your Nations armed, to entrust thisworld's future to you, but no. Only two of you are really concernedabout 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 andyour gangster Clyden. You are much better than those we have alreadydisarmed, but you are not good enough."
Garlock's hard eyes swept over the group for two minutes before he wenton:
"I am opening all of your minds, friend and foe alike, to each other, sothat you may all see for yourselves what depths of rottenness existthere and just how unfit your world is to associate with the decentworlds of this or any other galaxy. It would take God Himself to doanything with such material, and I am not God. Therefore, when we haverid this world of atomics we will leave and you will start all overagain. If you really try, you can not only kill all animal life on yourplanet, but make it absolutely uninhabitable for...."
"Stop it, Clee!" Lola jumped up, her eyes flashing. Garlock dropped thetuned group, but Belle took it over. Everyone there understood everythought. "Don't you _see_, you've done enough? That now you're going toofar? That these twenty-odd men, having had their minds opened and havingbeen given insight into what is possible, will go forward instead ofbackward?"
"Forward? With such people as the Prime Ministers, the labor andbusiness leaders, the bosses and the gangsters to cope with? Do youthink they've got spines stiff enough for the job?"
"I'm sure of it. Our world did it with no better. Millions and millionsof 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 somesuper-human race; some kind or other of _Homo Superior_. Do I understandcorrectly your thought that your race is _Homo Sapiens_, the same asours?"
"Why, of course it is," Lola answered in surprise. "The only differenceis that we are a few thousand years older than you are."
"You said also that there were 'millions and millions' of worlds thathave solved the problems facing us. Were all these worlds also peopledby _Homo Sapiens_? It seems incredible."
"True, nevertheless. On any and every world of this type humanity isidentical physically; and the mental differences are due only to theirbeing in different stages of development. In fact, every planet we havevisited except this one makes a regular custom of breeding its bestblood with the best blood of other solar systems. And as to the'millions and millions,' I meant only a very large but indefinitenumber. As far as I know, not even a rough estimate has ever beenmade--has there, Clee?"
"No, but it will probably turn out to be millions _of_ millions, insteadof millions _and_ millions; and squared and then cubed at that. My guessis that it'll take another ten thousand years of preliminary surveyingsuch as we're doing, by all the crews the various Galaxian Societies canput out, before even the roughest kind of an estimate can be made as tohow 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 arenot the only ones who have interstellar travel?"
"Far from it. In fact, yours is the only world we have seen that doesnot have it, in one form or another."
"Oh? More than one way? That makes it still worse. Would you be willingto sell us plans, or lease us ships...?"
"So that you could exploit other planets? We will not. You would getnowhere, 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, commondecency, and social responsibility. Your world's technology is so farahead of its sociology that you not only should be, but actually arebeing, held in quarantine."
"_What?_"
"Exactly. One race I know of has been inspecting you regularly forseveral hundreds of your years. They will not make contact with you, orallow you to leave your own world, until you grow up to something beyondthe irresponsible-baby stage. Thus, about two and one-half of your yearsago, a starship of that race sent down a sensing element--unmanned, ofcourse--to check your state of development. Brother Sovig volatilized itwith an atomic missile."
"We did not do it," the dictator declared. "It was the war-mongeringcapitalists."
"You brainless, mindless, contemptible idiot," Garlock sneered. "Areeven you actually stupid enough to try to lie with your mind? To mindslinked 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. Sohere's something else for you to think about, Brother Sovig, withwhatever power your alleged brain is able to generate. When you shotdown that sensor, the starship did not retaliate, but went on withouttaking any notice of you. When you tried to shoot _us_ down, we tooksome slight action, but did not kill anyone and are now discussing thesituation. Listen carefully now, and remember--it is very possible thatthe next craft you attack in such utterly idiotic fashion will, withoutany more warning than you gave, blow this whole planet into a ball ofincandescent g
as."
"Can that actually be done?" the scientist asked. For the first time, hebecame really interested in the proceedings.
"Very easily, Doctor Cheswick," Garlock replied. "We could do itourselves with scarcely any effort and at very small cost. You arefamiliar, I suppose, with the phenomenon of ball lightning?"
"Somewhat. Its mechanism has never been elucidated in any verysatisfactory mathematics."
"Well, we have at our disposal a field some...."
"Hold it, Clee," James warned. "Do you want to put out that kind ofstuff around here?"
"Um ... m ... m. What do you think?"
* * *
James studied Cheswick's mind. "Better than I thought," he decided. "Hehas made two really worthwhile intuitions--a genius type. He's beenworking on what amounts almost to the Coupler Theory for ten years. He'salmost got it, but you know intuitions of that caliber can't bescheduled. He might get it tomorrow--or never. I'd say push him over thehump."
"Okay with me. We'll take a vote--one blackball kills it. Brownie? Justthe link, of course. A few hints, perhaps, at application, but notechnological data."
"I say give it to him. He's earned it. Besides, he isn't young and maydie before he gets it, and that would lose them two or three hundredyears."
"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 dosome of them a bit of good to see one of their own minds firing on morethan one barrel."
"Thank you, Galaxians." The scientist's mind had been quivering witheagerness. "I am inexpressibly glad that you have found me worthy of somuch help."
* * *
Garlock entered Cheswick's mind. First he impressed, indelibly, sixsymbols and their meanings. Second, a long and intricate equation; whichthe scientist studied avidly.
During the ensuing pause, Garlock cut the President and Chief of Staffout of the linkage. "We have just given Cheswick a basic formula. In acouple of hundred years it will give you full telepathy, and then youwill 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 togive him both protection and good working conditions. Brains like hisare 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, ofcourse, but from this there derives the existence of, and the necessityfor, electrogravitics! An entirely new field of reality and experimentin science!"
"There does indeed," Garlock admitted, "and it is far indeed from beingimplicit. You leaped a tremendous gap. And yes, the resultant is morehumanistic than technological."
Belle's ear-splitting whistle resounded throughout the Main. "How do youlike _them_ tid-bits, Clee?" she asked. "Two hundred years inseventy-eight seconds? You folks will have telepathy by the time yourpresent crop of babies grows up. Clee, aren't you sorry you got mad andblew 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 geniuscourse."
"It sure does," Garlock admitted, ruefully. "I should have studied theseminds--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 andLingonor, knowing that their own lives were forfeit anyway, wereperfectly willing to destroy all the life on this world to make usyield. Now, however, with the insight and the encouragement youGalaxians have given us, the situation has changed. Reduced to ordinaryhigh explosives, they cannot conquer us...."
"Especially without an airforce," Lola put in. "I, personally, will seeto it that every bomber and fighter plane they now have goes to thethird moon. It will be your responsibility to see to it that they do notrebuild."
"Thank you, Miss Montandon. We will see to it. As for our internaldifficulties--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 havelaws," here he looked at the members of Congress and the judge, "whichcan be enforced. The conditions I mentioned would be difficult at themoment, since so few of us are here and it is manifest that few if anyof our people will believe that such people as you Galaxians reallyexist. Would it be possible for you, Miss Montandon, to spend a fewdays--or whatever time you can spare--in showing our Congress, and asmany 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 goodSecret Service, it is true, and we would give you every protectionpossible; but such an all-out effort as would be made to assassinate youwould almost certainly succeed."
"Shot?" Garlock asked in surprise. "What with? You haven't anything thatcould 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 ofthem at her. None of them will touch her."
"_What?_ I _will_ not! One of those slugs will go through three womenlike her, front to back in line."
"I will, then." The pistol leaped into Garlock's hand. "Hold up onehand, Brownie, and catch 'em. Don't let 'em splash--no deformation, sohe can recognize his own pellets."
Holding the unfamiliar weapon in a clumsy, highly unorthodoxgrip--something like a schoolgirl's first attempt--Garlock glanced onceat Lola's upraised palm and eight shots roared out as fast as the gasesof explosion could operate the mechanism. The pistol's barrel remainedrigidly motionless under all the stress of ultra-rapid fire. Lola'sslim, deeply-tanned arm did not even quiver under the impact of thatstorm of heavy bullets against her apparently unsupported hand. No onesaw those bullets strike that gently-curved right palm, but everyone sawthem drop into her cupped left hand, like drops of water drippingrapidly from the end of an icicle into a bowl.
"Here are your pellets, General Cardeen." Lola handed them to him with asmile.
"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," Lolasaid. "So I'll come down and work with you. You might have your newsservices put out a bulletin, though. I never have killed anyone, and amnot going to here, but anyone who tries to shoot me or bomb me oranything will lose both hands at the wrists just before he fires. Thatwould keep them from killing anyone standing near me, don't you think?"
"I should _think_ it would," General Cordeen thought, and a pall of awecovered the linked minds. The implications of the naively frank remarkjust uttered by this apparently inoffensive and defenseless young womanwere 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 ownhome place.
And not one of them, it may be said, was exactly the same as he hadbeen.
The deepest Gunther block was at last penetrated and Belle became conscious of a heretofore unknown mental alignment with the ship.]