“We didn’t get paid,” the city manager pointed out. “And it’ll take our last reserves to get back to any part of our own galaxy. The bindlestiff got off, and got carried ‘way out of range of the cops in the process—with plenty of dough, women, everything.”
“No, they didn’t,” Amalfi said. “They blew up the moment we moved He.”
“All right,” Hazieton said resignedly. “You could detect that; I’ll take your word for it. But you’d better be able to explain it.”
“It’s not hard to explain. The ‘stiffs had captured Dr. Beetle. I was pretty sure they would. They came to He for no other reason. They needed the fuelless drive, and they knew Dr. Beetle had it, because of the agronomists’ SOS. So they snatched him when he landed—notice how they made a big fuss about the other agronomist life ship, to divert our attention?—and worked the secret out of him.”
“So?”
“So,” Amalfi said, “they forgot that any Okie city always has passengers like Dr. Beetle—people with big ideas only partially worked out, ideas that need the finishing touches that can only be provided by some other culture. After all, a man doesn’t take passage on an Okie city unless he’s a third-rate sort of person, hoping to make his everlasting fortune on some planet where the people know less than he does.”
Hazleton scratched his head ruefully. “That’s right. We had the same experience with the Lyran invisibility machine. It didn’t work, until we took that Hruntan physicist on board; he had the necessary extra knowledge—but he couldn’t have discovered the principle himself, either.”