and the Perseus actually in? How much danger is Terra in, because of our presence
here? There are many other questions.
“Sandra and I will not take part. Nor will three others: de Vaux, Eisenstein and Blake.
You have more important work to do.”
“What can that be?” asked Rebecca. “Of what possible use can a mathematician, a
theoretician and a theoretical astronomer be in such a situation as this?”
“You can think powerfully in abstract terms, unhampered by Ten-an facts and laws
which we now know are neither facts nor laws. I cannot even categorize the problems
we face. Perhaps you three will be able to. You will listen, then consult, then tell me
how to pick the teams to do the work. A more important job for you is this: Any problem,
to be solved, must be stated clearly; and we don’t know even what our basic problem is.
I want something by the use of which I can break this thing open. Get it for me.”
Rebecca and de Vaux merely smiled and nodded, but Teddy Blake said happily, “I was
beginning to feel like a fifth wheel on this project, but that’s something I can really stick
my teeth into.”
“Huh? How!” Karns demanded. “He didn’t give you one single thing to go on; just
compounded the confusion.”
Hilton spoke before Teddy could. “That’s their dish, Bill. If I had any data I’d work it
myself. You first, Captain Sawtelle.”
That conference was a very long one indeed. There were almost as many conclusions
and recommendations as there were speakers. And through it all Hilton and Sandra
listened. They weighed and tested and analyzed and made copious notes; in shorthand
and in the more esoteric characters of symbolic logic. And at its end:
“I’m just about pooped, Sandy. How about you?” “You and me both, boss. See you in
the morning.”
But she didn’t. It was four o’clock in the afternoon when they met again.
“We made up one of the teams, Sandy,” he said with surprising diffidence. “I know we
were going to do it together, but I got a hunch on the first team. A kind of weirdie, but
the brains checked me on it.” He placed a card on her desk. “Don’t blow your top until
after you’ve studied it.”
“Why, I won’t, of course . . .” Her voice died away. “Maybe you’d better cancel that ‘of
course’ . . .” She studied, and when she spoke again she was exerting self-control. “A
chemist, a planetographer, a theoretician, two sociologists, a psychologist and a
radiationist. And six of the seven are three pairs of sweeties. What kind of a line-up is
that to solve a problem in physics?”
“It isn’t in any physics we know. I said think!”
“Oh,” she said, then again “Oh,” and “Oh,” and “Oh.” Four entirely different tones. “I
see . . . maybe. You’re matching minds, not specialties; and supplementing?”
“I knew you were smart. Buy it?”
“It’s weird, all right, but I’ll buy it-for a trial run, anyway. But I’d bate like sin to have to
sell any part of it to the Board . . . But of course we’re-I mean you’re responsible only to
yourself.”
“Keep it ‘we’, Sandy. You’re as important to this project as I am. But before we tackle
the second team, what’s your thought on Bernadine and Hermione? Separate or
together?”
“Separate, I’d say. They’re identical physically, and so nearly so mentally that one of
them would be just as good on a team as both of them. More and better work on
different teams.”
“My thought exactly.” And so it went, hour after hour. The teams were selected and
meetings were held.
The Perseus reached Ardry, which was very much like Terra. There were continents,
oceans, ice-caps, lakes, rivers, mountains and plains, forests and prairies. The ship
landed on the space-field of Omlu, the City of the Masters, and Sawtelle called Hilton
into his cabin. The Omans Laro and Kedo went along, of course.
“Nobody knows how it leaked . . .” Sawtelle began.
“No secrets around here,” Hilton grinned. “Omans, you know.”
“I suppose so. Anyway, every man aboard is all hyped up about living
aground–especially with a harem. But before I grant liberty, suppose there’s any VD
around here that our prophylactics can’t handle?”
“As you know, Masters,” Laro replied for Hilton before the latter could open his mouth,
“no disease, venereal or other, is allowed to exist on Ardry. No prophylaxis is either
necessary or desirable.”
`”That ought to hold you for a while, Skipper.” Hilton smiled at the flabbergasted
captain and went back to the lounge.
“Everybody going ashore?” be asked.
“Yes.” Karns said. “Unanimous vote for the first time.” “Who wouldn’t?” Sandra asked.
“I’m fed up with living like a sardine. I will scream for joy the minute I get a real room.”
“Cars” were waiting, in a stopping-and-starting line. Three-wheel jobs. All were empty.
No drivers, no steering-wheels, no instruments or push-buttons. When the whole line
moved ahead as one vehicle there was no noise, no gas, no blast.
An Oman helped a Master carefully into the rear seat of his car, leaped into the front
seat and the car sped quietly away. The whole line of empty cars, acting in perfect
synchronization, shot forward one space and stopped.
“This is your car, Master,” Laro said, and made a production out of getting Hilton into
the vehicle undamaged. Hilton’s plan had been beautifully simple. All the teams were to
meet at the Hall of Records. The linguists and their Omans would study the records and
pass them out. Speciality after speciality would be unveiled and teams would work on
them. He and Sandy would sit in the office and analyze and synthesize and correlate. It
was a very nice plan.
It was a very nice office, too. It contained every item of equipment that either Sandra or
Hilton had ever worked with-it was a big office-and a great many that neither of them
had ever heard of. It had a full staff of Omans, all eager to work.
Hilton and Sandra sat in that magnificent office for three hours, and no reports came
in. Nothing happened at all. “This gives me the howling howpers!” Hilton growled. “Why
haven’t I got brains enough to be on one of those teams?”
“I could shed a tear for you, you big dope, but I won’t,” Sandra retorted. “What do you
want to be, besides the brain and the king-pin and the balance-wheel and the
spark-plug of the outfit? Do you want to do everything yourself?”
“Well, I don’t want to go completely nuts, and that’s all I’m doing at the moment?” The
argument might have become acrimonious, but it was interrupted by a call from Karns.
“Can you come out here, Jarve? We’ve struck a knot.” “‘Smatter? Trouble with the
Omans?” Hilton snapped. “Not exactly. Just non-cooperation-squared. We can’t even
get started. I’d like to have you two come out here and see if you can do anything. I’m
not trying rough stuff, because I know it wouldn’t work.”
“Coming up, Bill,” and Hilton and Sandra, followed by Laro and Sora, dashed out to
their cars.
The Hall of Records was a long, wide, low, windowless, very massive structure, built of
a metal that looked like stainless steel. Kept highly polished, the vast expanse of
seamless and jointless metal was mirror-bright. The one great door was open, and just
inside it were the scientists and their Omans. “Brief me, Bill,” Hilton said.
“No lights. They won’t turn ’em on and we can’t. Can’t find either lights or any possible
kind of switches.”
“Turn on the lights, Laro,” Hilton said.
“You know that I cannot do that, Master. It is forbidden for any Oman to have anything
to do with the illumination of this solemn and revered place.”
“Then show me how to do it.”
“That would be just as bad, Master,” the Oman said proudly. “I will not fail any test you
can devise!”
“Okay. All you Omans go back to the ship and bring over fifteen or twenty lights-the
tripod jobs. Scat!”
They “scatted” and Hilton went on, “No use asking questions if you don’t know what
questions to ask. Let’s see if we can cook up something. Lane-Kathy-what has Biology
got to say?”
Dr. Lane Saunders and Dr. Kathryn Cook-the latter a willowy brown-eyed
blonde-conferred briefly. Then Saunders spoke, running both hands through his unruly
shock of fiery red hair. “So far, the best we can do is a more-or-less educated guess.
They’re atomic-powered, total-conversion androids. Their pseudo-flesh is composed
mainly of silicon and fluorine. We don’t know the formula yet, but it is as much more
stable than our teflon as teflon is than corn-meal mush. As to the brains, no data.
Bones are super-stainless steel. Teeth, harder than diamond, but won’t break. Food,
uranexite or its concentrated derivative, interchangeably. Storage reserve, indefinite.
Laro and Sora won’t have to eat again for at least twenty-five years . – .