“I am not,” said Daneraux. “The Oprinkian’s request was that he be left alone with you two people. Under these conditions I’m not permitted to come; and let me tell you it would take several weeks to get permission.”
Tom thought with the alacrity of someone facing a charging rogue elephant.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“In my office, of course,” said Daneraux. “Where else would you expect to find me?”
“Well, stay there!” barked Tom and broke the connection.
He hunted through his wallet for the piece of paper that held the emergency private phone number that Domango Aksisi had given him. Finding it, he read it aloud to his phone, meanwhile holding up his identification card to the screen before him. There was a brief wait while the security circuit at Domango’s end examined it. Then a voice answered from the other end.
“Yes?” said the voice.
Tom let out a sigh of relief. It was Domango’s voice. This must be a purely personal phone link.
“Sir?” he said. “This is Tom Parent. I’ve got an emergency situation here at my house with Mr. Rejilla; and I’ve just been talking to Daneraux and he says that he can’t come out because Mr. Rejilla said we were to be left alone with him. But it’s desperate—”
He went on to tell the Secretary of Alien Affairs essentially what he had told Daneraux. He wound up with, “—can’t you call him and order him to come out here?”
There was a pause at the other end.
“Of course, I could,” said the mild, calm tones at the other end. “Yes, perhaps it would be for the best if he came. Very good, Tom. I’ll give Daneraux a call right now. Do you know where he can be reached?”
“In his office, he told me,” said Tom.
“I’ll call.”
“—Oh,” added Tom, hastily, “and would you have him call ahead and tell me he’s coming so I know he’s on the way?”
“I’ll do that too,” said Domango.
Tom went home and took refuge in the utility room. He waited. After thirty-five minutes he began to pace back and forth. Finally, the tension grew too great even for pacing. He left the utility room and walked through the house to the kitchen.
“Ah,” he said, “how are things going?”
Lucy and Mr. Rejilla looked at him cheerfully.
“We are ecstatic!” answered Mr. Rejilla.
“The first one didn’t quite work out,” said Lucy. “But this one’s going to be just fine.”
“Good, good,” said Tom.
He withdrew his head and went back to pacing around the house again. Finally, he made himself sit down in a chair in the living room, close to the front door. He waited. The phone did not ring.
But the doorbell chimed after a space of time. Tom jumped to his feet, took three steps to it and opened it. Daneraux stood there.
“You didn’t phone to say you were coming!” said Tom.
“Your line was busy,” said Daneraux. They glared at each other. “Well,” Daneraux went on, “do you want me inside or not?”
“Yes,” said Tom, in a low, dangerous voice. “Come with me to the utility room.”
“There’s no dog here,” said Daneraux, when they got there.
“Of course not,” said Tom. “I want to talk to you first. I talked to Domango and Domango talked to you. Now are you convinced about the seriousness of this situation?”
“No,” said Daneraux. “I don’t believe your dog went telepathic all of a sudden.”
“But you’re here,” said Tom. “Didn’t the call from the Secretary convince you?”
“No,” said Daneraux, “But he ordered me here, so it’s no skin off my nose. What’s it matter whether I’m convinced or not? I’m here.”
“That’s not enough,” said Tom. “Rex can telepath. You’ve got to realize the seriousness of this situation. It goes far beyond the Secretariat. Rejilla’s going around taking notes and Rex is locked in our bedroom, ready to blab his head off. Don’t you realize what it would mean if we’ve got even a dog that could telepath? I’m not thinking just about Rejilla, I’m thinking about the whole world if this news gets out. Rex ought to be covered with Security men ten deep, until they find out how he does it. He shouldn’t be able to breathe without a man on each side of him. Now what I think we’ve got to do is smuggle him out of this house without him saying anything—”
“You could wind a scarf or something around his muzzle,” said Daneraux, “then he couldn’t talk.”
“He doesn’t telepath with his mouth!” said Tom. But Daneraux had hardly heard him. The other man was actually looking thoughtful.
“You know,” said Daneraux, in a totally different voice, “on the wild chance there’s some truth to this—you’re probably right about the seriousness of it. He’s your dog; can’t you think of some way of getting him out of the house quietly?”
“It’s simply because he’s my dog,” said Tom, “that I know him well enough to know that he’s bound to speak—I mean telepath—the moment he sees you, me, or anyone. Don’t you have some way of making him unconscious without hurting him? I won’t stand for his being hurt!”
“There’re probably ways,” said Daneraux. “We’d have to get in touch with—no, that wouldn’t work.”
“What wouldn’t work?” asked Tom.
“What I was thinking of would mean contacting some other department with the means to do what you suggest,” said Daneraux, “but that would let the cat out of the bag. I think you have to be an expert to use that kind of a tranquilizer gun.”
“They’d shoot him with a tranquilizer gun?” said Tom. “I’ve heard that’s dangerous unless they know exactly the weight of the animal and the species they’re tranquilizing.”
“Well, do you know his weight?” asked Daneraux.
“No,” said Tom.
They were both silent for a long minute.
“I have it,” said Daneraux. “Let’s talk to your wife about this. Maybe she’s got some ideas. Where is Rejilla right now?”
“She and he are in the kitchen,” said Tom. “Stay here. I’ll try to go and get her out by herself and make sure Rejilla stays there while she’s gone. On second thought, come with me.”
He and Daneraux went off to the kitchen door. Tom opened it and stepped inside.
“Lucy,” he said, “Daneraux is here with a private message for us from the—”
He broke off.
Lucy was alone in the kitchen.
“There you are, Tom,” said Lucy. “I’m afraid the second cake didn’t come out very well either. But I figured out what was wrong. The cake falls if it gets any sudden jar. If you slam the oven door, for instance. I’d forgotten that part of it; and with both cakes, I had to look after a while, to see whether it was done. So I—”
“Where’s Mr. Rejilla?” interrupted Tom.
“Mr. Rejilla?” said Lucy. “Why, he’s back in our bedroom, isn’t he—oh!” Lucy broke off suddenly.
“The bedroom the dog is in?” demanded Daneraux.
“Yes,” said Lucy, grimly. “What with the cake and all, I forgot Rex was there. You know how he likes to sleep under the dining-room table; and somehow I was thinking he was there instead of in the bedroom—”
The last of the sentence was lost, as all three of them headed swiftly for the bedroom, Tom leading, Lucy right behind him, and Daneraux as close as he could get.
When they reached the door of the bedroom and burst in, they discovered Rex lying on the floor and Mr. Rejilla tightening what seemed to be a thin strap around the dog’s neck.
“Stop!” yelled Tom and started to make a dive for the Oprinkian, only to be brought up short by some complicated sort of wrestling hold which Daneraux had clamped onto him.
Mr. Rejilla rose with a surprised expression. Rex got to his feet with the strap dangling unfastened and wagged his tail.
“He’s the accredited Representative of an Alien Power!” hissed Daneraux in Tom’s ear, and let him go.
“I beg your pardon?” Mr. Rejilla was saying. “Am I in violation of some custom? Observing that this grandfather appeared to enjoy the wearing of collars, I was impelled to decorate him with another as a token of affection and get-well quick.”
“Like furry man!” said Rex, happily and—it seemed to Tom—much louder than necessary, flicking a tongue in Mr. Rejilla’s direction. “Play wrestle?”
“All right!” said Tom, before Daneraux could stop him. “Go ahead. Deny it if you can, Mr. Rejilla. You’ve found out Rex could project his thoughts—telepathy. For some reason we’re not supposed to have telepathy yet, I suppose. So you came here to shut him up permanently!”
“Fight?” queried Rex, doubtfully.
“No, no. Shut up, Rex,” said Tom. “Now—”
He was interrupted by Daneraux grabbing his arm and shaking it.
“Parent,” said Daneraux, “did I understand you to say that this dog of yours was telepathing right now?”
“Of course,” said Tom. “Didn’t you hear him? Now, Mr. Rejilla—”
“No,” said Daneraux.
“No?” demanded Tom, turning to stare at the other man.
“No, I did not hear Rex say or broadcast anything,” said Daneraux, deliberately.
“Rex? I’m Rex,” announced that individual.
“Well, there you are! Just now,” said Tom. “What are you talking about, Daneraux? You heard him that time all right—how could you help it?”
“I,” said Daneraux, “heard nothing.”
“Pardon me,” interrupted Mr. Rejilla, “but do I understand your implication, Tom, to the effect that this grandfather is broadcasting his intentional statements by non-auditory way?”
“Of course, he is!”
“And you, too, Lucy, are receiving the grandfather clear and strong?” Rejilla asked her.
“Why, yes—” said Lucy. “Don’t you?”
“Woe,” said Mr. Rejilla. He turned about and walked away from them out of the bedroom into the living room, where he dropped into a chair and fanned himself with a magazine from the coffee table nearby.
The humans had followed him bewilderedly.
“I don’t understand,” said Daneraux.
“How unguestly of me!” said Mr. Rejilla. “I have made a violation of hospitality. Unintentional, purely, but that does not excuse it. Nevertheless, my deepest apologies to you Tom and to you Lucy. How mysterious the ways of grandfathers! Ah, well. I am not unhappy at this termination, being by nature enthusiastic and optimistic where the movement of all species toward civilization is concerned.”
“Sir,” said Daneraux, “could you perhaps explain it all a little more clearly?”
“With great pleasure,” Rejilla said. “Basic facts of individual life and movement toward civilization dictate certain necessary actions. What is of all universal relationships most important? Responsibility of teacher to teach, pupil to learn. Consequently grandfathers, percolating wisdom down to younger generations, are venerated. Oprinkian nature and sociological development cast us in role of teacher at present. But what if pupil prove not fully developed? By stern duty, I compelled myself to investigative procedure, while here on Earth. Spy. You understand.”
“I’m afraid not yet,” said Daneraux, ominously. His face had hardened at the word “spy.”
“During unconsciousing hours of nighttime for fine young couple here, I investigated them exploratoratively. This is the result.”
“Tom!” said Lucy. “He means he read our minds last night while we were asleep!”
“You Oprinkians have that ability?” demanded Daneraux.
Mr. Rejilla nodded. “Matter of training only,” he said. “Astonishing as last night’s results were, yet I defer action until, first, amazing chemical investigation of Lucy leading to rediscovery of almost extinct art of cake-baking, and now this. Lucy, Tom and Rex plainly overwhelming average citizens in pupilability.”
“Well—” began Daneraux, uncertainly.
Mr. Rejilla held up his hand and continued. “Affection basis for instruction. Consequently, I am informing Oprinkia no need to suspect humans unteachable. So we will set in motion mechanism of science to guide future path of humans among other galactic races. Myself, I intend to follow duty here with continuing peep; plus instruction of chosen representative pupils, Tom and Lucy Parent—with their permission, only, this coming night, of course; now that full revelation of purpose stated.”
“I don’t know about that,” said Tom, slowly.
“If agreeable, this will be on contributing to golden future of human race on Civilization’s track,” urged Mr. Rejilla. “Original planetary survey this world presenting a four-point-two capability of absorbing and use of such instruction. But you, Tom—and you, Lucy—startlingly reveal at least seven point two, personally. Due to good feelings and tender hearts, undoubtedly—as substantiated by happy attitude of grandfather Rex.”
“We could talk it over first, Tom,” said Lucy.
“You’d better get permission,” said Daneraux.
“We’ll see,” glowered Tom. “Anyway, what’s all this got to do with Rex broadcasting his thoughts? The thoughts—” he glanced at Daneraux “—our friend here claims can’t be heard.”
“He is correct,” said Mr. Rejilla.
“Correct?” said Tom.
“Correct,” stated Mr. Rejilla. “The grandfather, though venerable and praiseworthy, has discovered no unknown talent. His simple emanations always in existence. Only now, new sensitivity of your and Lucy’s minds, triggered by my mental investigations last night, render you capable of reception and interpretation of only his well-loved, simple animal statements.”
Everybody else stared at Rex. There was a moment of peculiar silence.
“Play frisbee?” suggested Rex.
“You mean—” croaked Tom finally “—it’s us?”
“Yours. You. Yourself and Lucy.”
“But—” said Tom.
“With training I supply you with ability to eventually receive-translatable more complex intelligence racial and Oprinkian thoughts.”
“Just a second,” said Daneraux. “You’re saying that these two people here are the ones who are now telepathic?”
“You understand,” said Mr. Rejilla with courteous approval.
“Don’t move,” said Daneraux to Tom and Lucy. “Don’t leave this house. I’m going to arrange for a complete twenty-four-hour security coverage of this house and lot. I can guarantee you’ll have agents around this house ten deep. Stay right where you are, all of you. I’ll be back.”
He left them. A moment later they heard the front door bang shut.
“And to think,” said Lucy, “all this time we thought it was Rex.”
“Rex? I’m Rex,” telepathed the Great Dane, attempting to lick Tom and Lucy alternately. “Love everybody. Pet me.”
“A most magnificent grandfather,” said Mr. Rejilla admiringly.
Tom and Lucy stared at each other. They looked at Mr. Rejilla and Rex. Then Lucy concentrated on Mr. Rejilla.
“Would …” she began hesitantly, “would we feel anything tonight if we let you—er—peep? And would you be looking into anything, well, personal?”
“Certainly not!” said Mr. Rejilla. “And another ‘certainly not!’ To both questions. Manners of first importance, of course. Invasion of personal life unthinkable. No, your private thoughts will be unpeeped; and only awareness of this in future will be to make your lives more interesting.”
“We’ll do it then!” said Lucy.
Tom made a strangled sound, like a word half-uttered.
“Tom—?” said Lucy.
“You didn’t wait to hear what I think about it.”
“Well,” said Lucy, “what do you think about it?”
“Oh, damn it!” said Tom. “I guess we might as well.”
“Future generations of your human race will bless you,” said Mr. Rejilla, solemnly. “The future now opens before you
and lovable grandfather.”
Chapter 6
“It does look like a remarkable opportunity,” said Domango Aksisi. “Mr. Rejilla and I had a long talk about it before he left. He said he was highly impressed with what he discovered in his two nights of examining you both. He suggested you be given every opportunity to meet any Aliens who visit this planet of ours. Naturally, that’ll require you being raised in rank, Tom, so you can be present at every one of the functions where an Alien is present. Then there’s the necessary secrecy, or ‘security’ aspect, as Albert would no doubt put it, if he was here.”
Albert Miles, pointedly, was not there. It was Tom and Lucy alone with the Secretary in his office.
“But,” Domango went on, “I think that part of it can be covered best by the three of us simply keeping it a secret among ourselves. The only person who has any notion of Mr. Rejilla’s discoveries where you are concerned, is Daneraux; and I think he’s been given adequate grounds for forgetting it—as the result of a possibly unfair rebuke and a reversal of his order to bring in Security people around your house.”
A twinge of conscience struck Tom, momentarily.
“He’s been told, officially,” Domango went on, “that it was completely unnecessary. But I explained to him privately that this would not go on his record; that it was an action taken only to avert media attention from Mr. Rejilla, who apparently felt you should be rewarded for his visit with you—which will also explain your being promoted. I think a new position as Alien Technical Advisor, Grade One to the Secretariat will suit very well.”
“Grade One?” said Tom. “I mean, thank you Mr. Secretary! Thank you very much.”
“No need for thanks, Tom,” said Domango. “It’s the sort of promotion that’d be entirely understandable after a strong request by a visiting dignitary, like Mr. Rejilla. Also, one which usefully takes you out of the direct line of authority here and gives you and Lucy both a freedom of action at official functions. Then, too, it’ll justify your future appearances at such situations when Aliens are present. Meanwhile, it looks very much like giving you an essentially meaningless title, to go through the motions of satisfying Mr. Rejilla. How does this all strike you, Tom?”
The Magnificent Wilf Page 5