The Galaxy Primes Read online

  CHAPTER 5

  Supper was over, but the four were still at the table, sipping coffeeand smoking. During a pause in the casual conversation, James suddenlystraightened up.

  "I want an official decision, Clee," he said, abruptly. "While we're outof touch with United Worlds you, as captain of the ship and director ofthe project, are Boss, with a capital B. The Lord of Justice, High andLow. The Works. Check?"

  "On paper, yes; with my decisions subject to appeal and/or review whenwe get back to Base. In practice, I didn't expect to have to make anyvery gravid rulings."

  "I never thought you'd have to, either, but Belle fed me one with a bonein it, so...."

  "Just a minute. How official do you want it? Full formal, screens downand recorded?"

  "Not unless we have to. Let's explore it first. As of right now, are weunder 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 itshould be interpreted in the light of common sense."

  * * *

  Garlock stared at Belle and she stared back, her eyes as clear andinnocent as a baby's.

  "The Code is neither long enough nor complicated enough to requireinterpretation," Garlock stated, finally. "It either applies in full andexactly 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 beginto 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 drewhis right forefinger across his forehead, "--with making so-called loveto a woman who can never think of anything except cutting another man'sthroat. She's a heartless conniver."

  "You both know that reasons are unnecessary and are not discussed inpublic," Garlock said, flatly. "Now as to confirmation of a break. Insimple pairing there is no marriage, no registration, no declaration ofintent or of permanence. Thus, legally or logically, there is noobligation. Morally, however, there is always some obligation. Hence, asa matter of urbanity, in cases where no injury exists except as concernschastity, the Code calls for agreement without rancor. If either partypersists in refusal to confirm, and cannot show injury, that party'sbehavior is declared inurbane. Confirmation is declared and theoffending 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 longin her refusal. As a matter of information, Belle, why did you take Jimin the first place?"

  "I didn't." She shrugged her shoulders. "It was pure chance. You saw meflip the tenth-piece."

  "Am I to ignore the fact that you are one of the best telekineticistsliving?"

  "I don't _have_ to control things unless I want to!" She stamped herfoot. "Can't you conceive of me flipping a coin honestly?"

  "No. However, since this is not a screens-down inquiry, I'll giveyou--orally, at least--the benefit of the doubt. The next step, Ipresume, is for Lola to break with me. Lola?"

  "Well ... I hate to say this, Clee.... I thought that mutual consentwould be better, but...." Lola paused, flushing in embarrassment.

  "She feels," James said, steadily, "as I do, that there should be muchmore to the sexual relation than merely releasing the biologicaltensions of two pieces of human machinery. That's hardly civilized."

  "I confirm, Lola, of course," Garlock said; then went on, partlythinking aloud, partly addressing the group at large. "Ha. Reasonsagain, 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 fromerroneous assumptions. The pattern is not clear ... but I won't orderscreens 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 frownedin thought. After a minute or so his face cleared.

  "Jim," he said, sharply, "have you been consciously aware of Belle'smanipulation?"

  "Why, no, of course not. She _couldn't_!"

  "That's _really_ a brainstorm, Clee," Belle sneered. "You'd better turnyourself in for an overhaul."

  "Nice scheme, Belle," Garlock said. "I underestimated--at least, didn'tconsider carefully enough--your power; and overestimated your ethics andurbanity."

  "What are you talking about, Chief?" James asked. "You lost me tenparsecs back."

  "Just this. Belle is behind this whole operation; working under aperfectly 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'sall set to take every possible advantage of the situation thus created."

  "I still don't see it," James objected. "Why, she wouldn't even confirmour break. She hasn't yet."

  "She would have, at the exactly correct psychological moment; afterholding out long enough to put you both under obligation to her. Therewould have, also, been certain strings attached. Her plan was, afterswitching the pairings...."

  "I wouldn't pair with you," Belle broke in viciously, "if you were theonly man left in the macrocosmic universe!"

  "Part of the smokescreen," Garlock explained. "The re-pairings wouldgive her two lines of attack on me, to be used simultaneously. First, towork 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 couldscratch a diamond. Second, to work on you two, with no holds barred, toform a three-unit team against me. Her charges that I am losing my gripmade 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, nothingwill 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 makeany kind of a pass at Jim James from now on, I'll lock you into yourroom with a Gunther block."

  "_You wouldn't dare_!" she breathed. "Besides, you couldn't, not toanother prime."

  "Don't bet on it," he advised.

  After a full minute of silence Garlock's attitude changed suddenly tohis usual one of casual friendliness. "Why not let this one drop righthere, Belle? I can marry them, with all the official trimmings. Why notlet 'em really enjoy their honeymoon?"

  "Why not?" Belle's manner changed to match Garlock's and she smiledwarmly. "I confirm, Jim. You two are really serious, aren't you?Marriage, declarations, registration, and everything? I wish--Isincerely and really wish you--every happiness possible."

  "We really _are_ serious," James said, putting his arm around Lola'swaist. "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'tknow exactly what a Prime Operator is. Especially you can't know whatCleander Simmsworth Garlock really is--he's an out-and-out tiger onwheels. The three of us could have smacked him bow-legged, but of courseall chance of that blew up just now. So if you two want to take the bigjump you can do it with my bl
essing as well as Clee's. I'll clear thetable."

  * * *

  That small chore taken care of--a quick folding-up of everything intothe tablecloth and a heave into the chute did it--Belle set up therecorder.

  "Are you both fully certain that you want the full treatment?" Garlockasked.

  Both were certain, and Garlock read the brief but solemn marriage lines.

  As the newlyweds left the room, Belle turned to Garlock with a quizzicalsmile. "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 andPoise. 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 whileago--if you were really the only man left, I would--but as it is, theanswer 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, thedoors of which were opposite each other. "In view of the Code, lockingyour door is a meaningless gesture. Mine will remain unlocked. I inviteyou to come in whenever you like, and assure you formally that no suchentry will be regarded as an invasion of privacy."

  Without a word she went into her room and closed the door with afirmness just short of violence. Her lock clicked sharply.

  * * *

  The next morning, after breakfast, James followed Garlock into his roomand 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, sortof...."

  "Yeah. I quote. 'Harder than Pharaoh's heart.' 'Colder than frozenhelium,' and all the rest. But this thing about Brownie...." He reachedout; two hard hands met in a crushing grip. "How could you possibly layoff? Just the strain, if nothing else."

  "A little strain doesn't hurt a man unless he lets it. I've done withoutfor months at a stretch, with it running around loose on all sides ofme."

  "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 hershe wasn't my type?"

  "Yes, but...."

  "She still isn't. She's a very fine person, with a very finepersonality. She is one of the two most nearly perfect young women ofher race. Her face is beautiful. Her body is an artist's dream. Her mindis one of the very best. Besides all that, she's a very good egg and amighty tasty dish. But put yourself in my place.

  * * *

  "Here's this paragon we have just described. She has extremely highideals and she's a virgin; never really aroused. Also, she's so full ofthis sickening crap they've been pouring into us--propaganda,rocket-oil, prop-wash, and psychological gobbledygook--that it's runningout of her ears. She's so stuffed with it that she's going to pair withyou, ideals and virginity be damned, even if it kills her; even thoughshe's shaking, clear down to her shoes--scared yellow. Also, she is andalways will be scared half to death of you--she thinks you're some kindof robot. She's a starry-eyed, soft-headed sissy. A sapadilla. A suckerfor 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 yourcold-blooded reputation."

  "People in love can't be objective, is all. If I saw her through thesame set of filters you do, I'd be in love with her, too. So let's seeif you can use your brain instead of your outraged sensibilities toanswer 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 themirror next morning. But that's such an _ungodly_ cockeyed picture,Clee.... But if that's actually your picture of Brownie--and you're nopart of a liar--just what kind of a woman could you love? If any?"

  "Belle."

  "_Belle_! Belle _Bellamy_? Hell's flaming furies! That iceberg? Thategomaniac? That Jezebel? She's the hardest-boiled babe that ever wentunhung."

  "Right, on all counts. Also she's crooked and treacherous. She's aground-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 theWomen's Army Corps. She's got the spine and the bottom and the drive. Sojust imagine her thawed out and really shoveling on the coal--blastingwide open on all forty torches. Back to back with you when you'resurrounded; she wouldn't cave and she wouldn't give. Or wing andwing--holding the beam come hell or space-warps. Roll that one around onyour tongue, Jim, and give your taste-buds a treat."

  "Well, maybe ... if I've got that much imagination ... that's a toughblueprint 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 whatit takes. Maybe _you_ can make a Christian out of her. If so, you mighthave something; but I'm damned if I can see exactly what. Whatever itturned out to be, I wouldn't care for any part of it. You could have itall."

  "Exactly; and you can have your Brownie."

  "I'm beginning to see. I didn't think you had anything like that in yourchilled-steel carcass. And I want to apolo...."

  "Don't do it, boy. If the time ever comes when _you_ go so soft on me asto 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 aloss for words. He thrust his hands into his pockets and shrugged hisshoulders. "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 thishellish 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 insix thousand million. Okay; how many women could live with me for a yearwithout 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 afraidof 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 offthe beam. Do it with skill and precision and nicety, with power andcontrol; yet without doing herself any damage and without changing herbasic 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 shouldbe. Like I hope she will be. I'd have to give, too, of course--maybe wecan make Christians out of each other. It's quite a dream, I admit, butit'll be Belle or nobody. But I'm not used to slopping over thisway--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 wayyou'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. Inever have, and don't now ... but under certain conditions ... I simplydon'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'mgoing to watch with my eyes out on stalks!"

  * * *

  For the next week, Belle locked her door every night. For another fewnights, she did not lock it. Then, one night, she left it ajar. Thefollowing 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 atape for willful inurbanity? For deliberate intersexual invasion ofprivacy?"

  * * *

  "Blast and damn! You know perfectly well, Clee Garlock, I wouldn't pullsuch a dirty, lousy trick as that."

  "Maybe I should apologize, then, but as a matter of fact I have no ideawhatever as to what you wouldn't do." He stared at her, his face hard inthought. "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 acompletely 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 amodel for 'Timorous Timmy'?"

  "Since you've guessed it, yes."

  "You ... you _weasel_!" She took three quick steps up the corridor, thenback. "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 ofGod, man, woman, or devil ... and you're big enough so you don't have tobe proving it all the time." She laughed suddenly, her face softeningmarkedly. "Listen, you big lug. Why don't you ever knock me into anoutside loop? If I were you and you were me, I'd've busted me loose frommy front teeth long ago."

  "I'm not sure whether I know better or am afraid to. Anyway, I'm notrocking any boat so far from shore."

  "Says you. You're wonderful, Clee--simply priceless. Do you know you'rethe only man I ever met that I couldn't make fall for me like a rockfalling down a cliff? And that the falling is altogether too apt to bethe 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 therereally _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 toapply, I accept your decision as a fact. By the same reasoning--howeverinvalid--if I ask you again you will again refuse. So all that's left, Iguess, is for me to drag you into my room by force."

  He put his left arm around her and applied a tiny pressure against herside; 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. Notenough 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. Hisright arm went into action with his left, and Cleander Garlock forgotall about dynes and tapes.

  After a time she disengaged one arm; reached out; opened his door. Hegathered her up and, lips still locked to lips, carried her over thethreshold.

  * * *

  A few jumps later they met their first really old Arpalone. ThisInspector was so old that his skin, instead of the usual bright, clearcobalt blue, was dull and tending toward gray. The old fellow wasstrangely garrulous, for a Guardian; he wanted them to pause a while andgossip.

  "Yes, I am lonesome," he admitted. "It has been a long time since Iexchanged thoughts with anyone. You see, nobody has visited thisplanet--Groobe, its name is--since almost all our humanity was killed, afew periods ago...."

  "Killed? How?" Garlock asked sharply. "Not Dilipic?"

  "Oh, you have seen them? I never have, myself. No, nothing nearly thatbad. Merely the Ozobes. The world itself was scarcely harmed at all.Rehabilitation will be a simple matter, so there's no real reason whysome of those Engineers...."

  "The beast!" Lola shot a tight-beam thought at her husband. "Who caresanything about the rock and dirt of a _planet_? It's the people thatcount 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, youknow; not a sociological anthropologist."

  "... shouldn't come out here and spend a few hours once in a while, butthey don't. Too busy with their own business, they say. But while youare physically human, mentally you are not. You're all too ... too ... Ican't put my thought exactly on it, but ... more as though you werehuman 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 ofinter-galactic travel. "You are willing, then, to fight side by sidewith us Arpalones against the enemies of humanity? You have actuallydone so, at times, and won?"

  "We certainly have."

  "I am glad. I am expecting a call for help any time now. Will you pleasegive me enough of your mental pattern, Doctor Garlock, so that I cancall you in case of need? Thank you."

  "What makes you think you're going to get an S.O.S. so soon? Wherefrom?"

  "Because these Ozobe invasions come in cycles, years apart, but thereare always several planets attacked at very nearly the same time. Wewere the first, this time; so there will be one or two others veryshortly."

  "Do they always ... kill all the people?" Lola asked.

  "Oh, no. Scarcely half of the time. Depends on how many fighters theplanet has, and how much outside help can get there soon enough."

  "Your call could come from any of the other solar systems in thisneighborhood, then?" Garlock asked.

  "Yes. There are fifteen inhabited planets within about six light-yearsof us, and we form a close-knit group."

  "What are these Ozobes?"

  "Animals. Warm-blooded, but egg-layers, not mammals. Like this," and theInspector spread in their minds a picture of a creature somewhat likethe flying tigers of Hodell, except that the color was black, shadingoff to iridescent green at the extremities. Also, it was armed with ashort and heavy, but very sharp, sting.

  "They say that they come from space, but I don't believe it," the oldfellow 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, Ithink they live right here on Groobe somewhere, maybe holed up in cavesor 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'tall the planets get together and develop something to kill every Ozobein 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 welloutside 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 ofextremely 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 wassure of it. Yes, they laid eggs in human bodies. Yes, they probablystayed alive quite a while--or might, except for the rehab crew. No, hedidn't _know_ what would hatch out--he'd never let one live that lo
ng,but what the hell else _could_ hatch except Ozobes? No, not one. Not onesingle damn one. If just one ever did, on any world where he bossed thejob, 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 possiblyhave come from space. If they _did_ come from space, the adult formwould have to be something able to get back into space, some way orother. _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 hisbusiness; he was a rehab man.

  Lola ran back to the ship in disgust.

  "Something else is even more ridiculous, and _is_ your business," Jamestold the Head Engineer. "Garlock and I are both engineers--top ones. Weknow definitely that a one-hundred-percent clean-up on such a job asthis--millions--simply can't be done. Ever. Under any conditions. Areyou 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 thathatches; something so different they don't even recognize it. Somethingable to get into space. Enough survivors to produce the nextgeneration."

  "Sure. I'll tell Brownie--she'll be tickled."

  "She'll be more than tickled--she'll want to hunt up somebody aroundhere with three brain cells working and give 'em an earful." Then, tothe Engineer, "Do you know how they rehab a planet that's been leveledflat 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 fewyears--wonderful soil it makes--what makes it slow is that you have towait fifty or a hundred years for the mountains to get built up againand 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 beinginvaded 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 werealmost shooting sparks as she turned to the old Arpalone and drove athought so forcibly that he winced.

  "Do you so-called 'Guardians of Humanity' care at all about the humanityyou're supposed to be protecting?" she demanded viciously, the thoughtboring in and twisting, "or are you just loafing on the job and doing aslittle as you possibly can without getting fired?"

  Belle and Garlock looked at each other and grinned. James was surprisedand shocked. This woman blowing her top was no Brownie Montandon any ofthem 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'tdone, 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 toelementary biology! You should have exterminated these Ozobe vermin agesago. All you have to do is find out what its life cycle is. How manystages and what they are. How the adults get into space and where theygo," 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 onJames. "This loss of human life is so _appallingly_ unnecessary! Thistime 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 outand _push_ it there! Now punch that button!"

  James pushed the button, glanced into his scanner, and froze; eyesstaring. He did not even whistle. Belle, however, did; withear-shattering volume. Garlock's mouth fell open in the biggest surpriseof his life. They were in the same galaxy!

  All three had studied charts of nebular configurations so long and sointensely that recognition of a full-sphere identity was automatic andinstantaneous.

  Lola, head buried in scanner, had already checked in with the PortInspector.

  "It _is_ Clamer!" she shrieked aloud. "I _told_ you it was time for ourluck to change, if we pulled hard enough! They are being invaded byOzobes and they did call for help and they didn't think we couldpossibly get here this fast and we don't need to be inspected becausewe're compatible or we couldn't have landed on Groobe!"

  For five long minutes Garlock held the starship motionless while hestudied the entire situation. Then he drove a probe through the mentalshield of the general in charge of the whole defense operation.

  "Battle-Cruiser _Pleiades_, Captain Garlock commanding, reporting forduty in response to your S.O.S. received on Groobe."

  The general, furiously busy as he was, dropped all other business. "Butyou're _human_! You can't fight!"

  "Watch us. You don't know, apparently, that the Ozobe bases are on thefar side of your moon. They're bringing their fighters in most of theway in transports."

  "Why, they can't be! They're coming in from all directions from deepspace!"

  "That's what they want you to think. They're built to stand many hoursof zero pressure and almost absolute zero cold. Question: if we destroyall their transport, say in three hours, can you handle all the fighterswho will be in the air or in nearby space at that time?"

  "Very easily. They've hardly started yet. I appoint you Admiral-pro-temGarlock, in command of Space Operations, and will refer to you any otherspace-fighters who may come. I thank you, sir. Good luck."

  The general returned his attention to his boiling office. His mind wasseething with questions as to what these not-human beings were, how orif they knew so much, and so on; but he forced them out of his mind andwent, fast and efficient, back to work. James shot the _Pleiades_ up towithin 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 notoccur to her that she had already done a tremendous job, "I'll neverforgive myself."

  James showed her; and, much to her surprise, she found it very easy todo.

  * * *

  The vessels transporting the invading forces were huge, spherical shellsequipped with short-range drives--and with nothing else. Noaccommodations, no facilities, no food, no water, not even any air. Eachtransport, when filled to the bursting-point with as-yet-docile cargo,darted away; swinging around to approach Clamer from somepreviously-assigned direction. It did not, however, approach theplanet's surface. At about two thousand miles out, great ports openedand the load was dumped out into space, to fall the rest of the way bygravity. Then the empty shell, with only its one pilot aboard, rushedback for another load.

  "How heavy shots, Clee?" James asked. He and Lola were getting intotheir scanners. "Wouldn't take as much as a kiloton equivalent, wouldit?"

  "Half a kilo is plenty, but no use being too fussy about precision outhere."

  * * *

  Garlock and Belle were already bombing; James and Lola began. Slow andawkward at first, Lola soon picked up the technique and was firing blastfor blast with the others. No more loaded transport vessels left themoon.
No empty one, returning toward the moon, reached there. In muchless than the three hours Garlock had mentioned, every Ozobian transportcraft had been destroyed.

  "And now the real job begins," Garlock said, as James dropped thestarship down to within a few miles of the moon's surface.

  That surface was cratered and jagged, exactly like that of the halfalways facing Clamer. No sign of activity could be seen by eye, noranything unusual. Even the immense trap-doors, all closed now, matchedexactly their surroundings. Underground, however, activity was violentlyintense; and, now, confused in the extreme.

  "Why, there isn't a single adult anywhere!" Lola exclaimed. "I thoughtthe whole place would be full of 'em!"

  "So did I," Belle said. "However, by hindsight, it's plain enough. Theirjob 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 mooncovered--honeycombed. We'll have to fine-tooth it. Around the peripheryfirst, then spiral into the center. This moon isn't very big, but evenso 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_ gladwe've got plenty of stuff in our Op field and plenty of hydride for theengines. The horses will all know they've been at work before they getthe 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 aplotted and automatically-controlled course. It was very easy to tellwhere she had been; the sharply-cut, evenly-spaced, symmetrical pitsleft by the Galaxian's full-conversion blasts were entirely differentfrom the irregularly-cratered, ages-old original surface.

  "Knock off, Brownie," Garlock said then. "Go eat all you can hold andget some sleep. Come back in three hours. Jim, cut our speed toseventy-five percent."

  Lola shed her scanner, heaved a tremendous sigh of relief, anddisappeared.

  Three silent hours later--all three were too intensely busy to think ofanything except the work in hand--Lola came back.

  "Take Belle's swath, Brownie. Okay, Belle, you can lay off. Threehours."

  "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 goodas. It's a matter of physical reserves. Jim and I have more to draw onfor the long shifts than you have. So get the hell out of here or I'llstop the ship and slap you even sillier than you are now."

  Belle threw up her head, tossing her shoulder-length green mop in hercharacteristic gesture of defiance; but after holding Garlock's hardstare 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 scarcelythink, the job was done and checked. Clamer's moon was as devoid of lifeas any moon had ever been.

  * * *

  Lola pitched her scanner at its rack and threw herself face-down on adavenport, sobbing uncontrollably. James sat down beside her and soothedher until she quieted down.

  "You'd better eat something, sweetheart, and then for a good, longsleep."

  "Eat? Why, I couldn't, Jim, not possibly."

  "Let her sleep first, I think, Jim," Belle said, and followed with hereyes as Jim picked his wife up and carried her into the corridor.

  "We'd better eat _something_, I suppose," Belle said, thoughtfully. "Idon't feel like eating, either, but I never realized until this minutejust how much this has taken out of me and I'd better start putting itback in.... She did a wonderful job, Clee, even if she couldn't take itfull 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-blastedwell you weren't; but I know what you mean. Fighting something you don'tknow 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 ... butshe did a job, and she's so sweet and fine.... I wonder, Clee, if ... ifI'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 asyou stand."

  "Yes? You lie in your teeth, Cleander, but I love it.... Oh, I don'tknow 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 ofmushrooms fried in butter; French fries, french dips, salad, and a quartof coffee. The same for me, except more of each. Here we are."

  "Why, Clee, I couldn't _possibly_ eat half of that...." Then, after aquarter of it was gone, "I _am_ hungry, at that--simply ravenous. Icould 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; inan atmosphere of friendliness and good fellowship; chatting on a widevariety of subjects as they ate. Neither was aware of the fact that thiswas the first time they had ever been on _really_ friendly terms. Andfinally every dish and container was empty, almost polished clean.

  "One hundred percent capacity--can chew but can't swallow," Garlock saidthen, lighting two cigarettes and giving Belle one. "How's that for amasterly job of calibration?"

  "Me, too. It'll pass." Belle sighed in repletion. "Your ability toestimate the exact capacity of containers is exceeded only by your goodlooks and by the size of your feet. And now to hit the good old sack foran indefinite but very long period of time."

  "You chirped it, birdie." Still eminently friendly, the two walkedtogether 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, andlooked deep into her eyes. "I want to tell you something, Belle. You'rea woman, not in seven thousand million women, but in that many planetsfull of women. What it takes, you very definitely and very abundantlyhave got. And you aren't the only one that's pooped. I don't needcompany tonight, either. I'm going to sleep until I wake up, if it takesall day. Or say, if you wake up first, why not punch me and we'll havebreakfast 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 corridorinto his own room.

  "_What_ a man!" Belle breathed to herself, behind the solid screens ofher 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 toTellus...." Then she threw back her head, drove a hard little fist intoa pillow, and spoke aloud through clenched teeth. "No, damn and blastit, I _won't_ give in. I _won't_ love him. I'll take the Project awayfrom 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 wellafter noon--a little before Garlock did, but not much. When she w
entinto his room he was shaved and fully dressed except for one shoe, whichhe was putting on.

  "Hi, boss! Better we eat, huh? Not only am I starving by inches, but ifwe don't eat pretty quick we'll get only one meal today instead ofthree. Did you eat your candy bar?"

  "I sure did, ace."

  "Oh, I'm still 'ace'? You can kiss me, then," and she raised her facetoward his.

  He kissed her, still tenderly, and they strolled to and through the Mainand into the alcove. James and Lola, the latter looking terriblystrained and worn, had already eaten, but joined them in theirafter-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 joyand gratitude and stuff--as well as information. And we managed to pryourselves loose without waking you two trumpet-of-doom sleepers up. Sowe'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 tospring a thing on you that I've been mulling around in my mind eversince we landed here."

  "Nerve? You?" James asked, incredulously. "Pass the coffee-pot aroundagain, 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 controlwhatever...." Garlock paused in thought.

  "Like a rookie pitcher," Belle suggested.

  "Uh-uh," Lola objected. "It _couldn't_ be that wild. He'd have to standwith his back to the plate and pitch the ball over the center-fieldstands 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 thatwould give us intrinsic control, but I haven't got any farther with itthan we did back on Tellus. Second, consider all the jumps we've madeexcept this last one. Every time we've taken off, none of us has had hisshield really up. You, Jim, were concentrating on the drive, and so werewide open to it. The rest of us were at least thinking about it, and sowere more or less open to it. Not one of us has ever ordered it to takeus to any definite place; in fact, I don't believe that anyone of us hasever even suggested a destination. Each one of us has been thinking, atthe 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'veever stayed in the same galaxy. It's the first time we've ever gonewhere we wanted to. And it's the first time--here's the crux, as I seeit--that any of us has been concentrating on any destination at themoment of firing the charge. Brownie was willing the _Pleiades_ to thisplanet so hard that we all could taste it. The rest of us, if not reallypushing to get here, were at least not opposed to the idea. Check?"

  "Check." "That's right." "Yes, I was pushing with all my might," camefrom 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 incoincidence--that concept is as meaningless as that of paradox. Icertainly do _not_ believe that we hit this planet by chance againstodds of almost infinity to one. So I've been looking for a reason. Ifound one. It goes against my grain--against everything I've everbelieved--but, since it's the only possible explanation, it must betrue. The only possible director of the Gunther Drive _must_ be themind."

  "Hell's blowtorches--Now you're _insisting_ that the damn thing'salive."

  "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 onething. If you, the hardest-boiled skeptic that ever went unhung, canfeed yourself the whole bowl of such a mess as that, I can at least takea taste of it. Shoot."

  "Okay. You know that we don't know anything really fundamental abouteither teleportation or the drive. I'm sure now that the drive is simplymechanical teleportation. If you tried to 'port yourself without anyidea of where you wanted to go, where do you think you'd land?"

  "You might scatter yourself all over space--no, you wouldn't. Youwouldn't move, because it wouldn't be teleportation at all. Destinationis an integral part of the concept."

  "Exactly so--but only because you've been conditioned to it all yourlife. 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. Pureluck, even at those odds, makes a lot more sense."

  "And to make matters worse," Garlock went on as though neither of themhad spoken. "Just suppose that a man had four minds instead of one andthey 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 thingwas built to operate purely at random. Fotheringham was wrong. However,I missed the point that if control is possible, the controller must be amind. 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 beany worse. Let's go."

  "How would you test it?"

  "Same way you would. Only way. First, each one of us alone. Then pairsand threes. Then all four together. Fifteen tests in all. No. Threedestinations for each set-up; near, medium, and far. Except Tellus, ofcourse; 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 settheir blocks--eyes shut, even, and concentrating on something else.Check?"

  James did not express the thought that Tellus must by now be so far awaythat no possible effort could reach it; but he could not repress theimplication.

  "Check. I'll concentrate on a series of transfinite numbers. Belle, youwork on the possible number of shades of the color green. Lola, on howmany different perfumes you can identify by smell. Jim, hit the button."