The Three Galaxies are an island group, like Hawaii State, they haven’t any other close neighbors. Civilization spread through the Lesser Cloud, then through the Greater Cloud and is seeping slowly through our own Galaxy-that is taking longer; there are fifteen or twenty times as many stars in our Galaxy as in the other two.
When I began to get these things straight I wasn’t quite as sore. The Mother Thing was a very important person at home but here she was a minor official-all she could do was bring us in. Still, I wasn’t more than coolly polite for a while-she might have looked the other way while we beat it for home.
They housed us in that enormous building in a part you could call a “transients” hotel,” although “detention barracks” or “jail” is closer. I can’t complain about accommodations but I was getting confoundedly tired of being locked up every time I arrived in a new place. A robot met us and took us down inside-there are robots wherever you turn on Lanador. I don’t mean things looking like the Tin Woodman; I mean machines that do things for you, such as this one which led us to our rooms, then hung around like a bellhop expecting a tip. It was a three-wheeled cart with a big basket on top, for luggage if we had any. It met us, whistled to the Mother Thing in Vegan and led us away, down a lift and through a wide and endlessly long corridor.
I was given “my” room again-a fake of a fake, with all errors left in and new ones added. The sight of it was not reassuring; it shrieked that they planned to keep us there as long as-well, as long as they chose.
But the room was complete even to a rack for Oscar and a bathroom outside. Just beyond “my” room was a fake of another kind-a copy of that Arabian Nights horror Peewee had occupied on Vega Five. Peewee seemed delighted, so I didn’t point out the implications.
The Mother Thing hovered around while we got out of space suits. (“Do you think you will be comfortable?”)
“Oh, sure,” I agreed unenthusiastically.
(“If you want food or anything, just say so. It will come.”)
“So? Is there a telephone somewhere?”
(“Simply speak your wishes. You will be heard.”)
I didn’t doubt her-but I was almost as tired of rooms that were bugged as of being locked up; a person ought to have privacy.
“I’m hungry now,” Peewee commented. “I had an early breakfast.”
We were in her room. A purple drapery drew back, a light glowed in the wall. In about two minutes a section of wall disappeared; a slab at table height stuck out like a tongue. On it were dishes and silverware, cold cuts, fruit, bread, butter,, and a mug of steaming cocoa. Peewee clapped and squealed. I looked at it with less enthusiasm.
(“You see?”) the Mother Thing went on with a smile in her voice. (“Ask for what you need. If you need me, I’ll come. But I must go now.”)
“Oh, please don’t go, Mother Thing.”
(“I must, Peewee dear. But I will see you soon. By the bye, there are two more of your people here.”)
“Huh?” I put in. “Who? Where?”
(“Next door.”) She was gone with gliding swiftness; the bellhop speeded up to stay ahead of her.
I spun around. “Did you hear that?”
“I certainly did!”
“Well-you eat if you want to; I’m going to look for those other humans.”
“Hey! Wait for me!”
“I thought you wanted to eat.”
“Well . . .” Peewee looked at the food. “Just a sec.” She hastily buttered two slices of bread and handed one to me. I was not in that much of a hurry; I ate it. Peewee gobbled hers, took a gulp from the mug and offered it to me. “Want some?”
It wasn’t quite cocoa; there was a meaty flavor, too. But it was good. I handed it back and she finished it. “Now I can fight wildcats. Let’s go, Kip.”
“Next door” was through the foyer of our three-room suite and fifteen yards down the corridor, where we came to a door arch. I kept Peewee back and glanced in cautiously.