ether writhed and seethed and warped under the intolerable stresses of the utterly
incomprehensible forces there at grips.
This went on . . . and on . . . and on.
Even to Seaton, who knew only that he was up against an enemy nearly as potent as
the Chlorans, the full import of the enormous struggle of energies then being waged
was far from clear. We can wonder now, and ask ourselves what the fate of the
universe might have been if the Skylark’s Norlaminian designers had skimped on a
course of screens, or overlooked a detail of defense. Surely its consequences would
have been cataclysmic! Not only to Seaton and his Skylarker, watching grim-faced as
their gauges revealed the enormous flow of destructive forces battling each other to
annihilation for countless parsecs in every direction. Not only to the Jelmi, or the Rey-
See-Neese, or the Norlaminians, or Earth itself . . . but to countless generations yet
unborn, on planets not yet discovered . . .
But they held.
And after ten endless minutes of such terrible gouts and blasts of destruction as no
planet could endure for a moment, Seaton heard a voice speak to him.
He had never heard it before, but it said in good American English: “Good morning, my
friends. Or perhaps, by your clocks, it is good afternoon? I am the Llanzlan Mergon of
Jelin, and I perceive that you are under attack by our old acquaintances, the Llurdi.
You, I am sure, are the Seatons and the Cranes, about whom we heard so much on
Earth, but whom we were not able to find.”
Even though the Llurdi had been absolute rulers of all the .planets of the Jelmi for many
thousands of years, it was easy for them to accept, and to adopt themselves to, the
new condition of coexistence with the Realm of the Jelmi on terms of equality. That was
the way they were built.
The llanzlan fed the new data into Computer Prime and issued its findings as a
directive. Since this directive was the product of pure logic, that was all there was to it.
With the Jelmi, however, even with a much simpler and easier agenda, things were
distinctly otherwise. Everyone knows how difficult it is to change the political thinking of
even a part of any human world. How, then, of the two hundred forty whole planets of
the Jelmi? The conservatives did not want any change at all. Not even to
independence. The radicals wanted everything changed; but each faction wanted each
item changed in a different fashion. And the moderates, as usual, did .not agree with
either extreme wing on anything.
And, also as usual, no one faction would play ball with any other. Each would have its
own way in setting up the Realm or there would be no Realm-it would pick up its
marbles and go home.
Fortunately, however, the eight hundred best brains of the entire Jelman race were
together in one place-in the fully operative base that the Mallidaxian’s dome had now
become. Their numbers included the most capable and most highly trained specialists
in every field of Jelman endeavor and they all had been living together and working
together for many months.
They knew better than to go off half cocked. They would have to develop a master-plan
upon which they could all agree. Unanimously. Nothing less would do. Having
developed such a plan they would put it into effect, each person or planetary group
upon his or her or their home world. The constitution thus fabricated would be put into
effect by reason if possible, by force if necessary. It was not to be amended except by
process contained within itself.
Thus the Constitutional Committee of Eight Hundred was still living in the base and was
still hard at work when the Officer of the Day called Mergon-who, after glancing at
plates and instruments, called Luloy.
The .ether was showing strains of a magnitude not observed since the Battle for
Independence. A Llurd ship was putting out everything he had; fighting full-out against
asomething-whose battle-screen covered such an immensity of space that Mergon
could scarcely believe his instruments.
Luloy quirked an eyebrow. “Well, what are we waiting for?”
“Nothing,” and Mergon, who could now handle projections through the fourth
dimension, launched them. “I’ll keep us invisible while we see what that thing is and
how big it really is.”
They went and saw-and the more they studied the immensity that was the Skylark of
Valeron the more they marveled. Finally, in the Valeron’s control room and still invisible,
they studied the worldlet’s personnel; the while talking to each other in the flesh at the
Mallidaxian’s main panel.
“Except for the ~ green-skinned couple they are Tellurians,” the girl insisted.
“Everything about that-that ship, if you can call it a ship-is Tellurian. Just look at those
clothes. You never saw anything like that anywhere except on Tellus and you never
will.”
“We never heard anything about anything like that mobile fortress on Tellus, either,” he
objected, “and we certainly would have if they’d known anything about it. How could
they hide it?”
“Maybe it’s so new that not too many people know about it yet. Anyway, whatever the
truth about that, we heard a lot about Seaton and Crane. Especially Seaton. According
to the lore, he’s their principal god’s right-hand man. He can do anything.”
“Or a devil’s, depending on who you talked, to. But we wrote that off as just that-lore. If
not propaganda.”
“We’ll have to write it back on again. Those two have to be Seaton and Crane-there, the
Jelm-sized one with his head in the controller, and that other bean-pole type standing
there smoking a . . . a cigarette, they call it. And that smoking business clinches it.
Nobody but Tellurians burn their lungs out with smoke.”
“Okay.” Mergon thickened their projections up to full visibility and spoke:
“You must be the Seatons and the Cranes, about whom we heard so much on Earth
but whom we were not able to find.”
Crane the Imperturbable was startled out of his imperturbability when Mergon and Luloy
appeared in the Valeron’s control room and Mergon spoke to him in English. But he did
not show it-very much!-and realized in a moment what the truth was.
“We are,” Crane said, stepping forward and holding out his hand. These people would
understand the gesture. “I’m M. Reynolds Crane; Doctor Seaton is occupied at the
moment. You are of course the people who had the spaceship on the moon. We have
come all the way out here in the hope of finding you somewhere in this galaxy.”
“Oh? Oh, you want the fourth-dimensional device.”
“Exactly.” Crane then introduced the others, and finally Seaton; who, having assured
himself that the Brain could handle the stalemate without him, had disengaged himself
from the master controller and had joined the party.
“That’s right,” Seaton said. “Since nothing like it is known to any science with which we
are familiar, we hope to learn about it from you. But that . . . those monsters . . . they
aren’t, by any chance, friends of yours, are they?”
Luloy laughed. “No. Not exactly . . . or maybe they are, after a fashion, now. But the
Llurdi were our unquestioned masters for so many thousands of years that they haven’t
yet decided to treat us or anyone who looks like us with the courtesy reserved for
equals. You see, the llanzlan would have communicated with you in thought after he
had investigated you a little.”‘
“Yeah.” Seaton’s smile was grim. “With the stiffest, hardest probe he could build? And
I’m supposed to sit still for that kind of manhandling?”
“No.” Mergon took over. “No one but a Llurd could have expected you to. This situation
is somewhat unfortunate. Until very recently they have always had overwhelmingly
superior power. They never had any effective opposition until we wore them down a
little, just recently.” Mergon explained the situation in as few words as possible,
concluding, “So this battle, while not due exactly to misunderstanding, is unfortunate.
What I propose is that Luloy and I visit Klazmon via projection, as we are now visiting
you, and explain matters to him as we have explained them to you. I take it you will
cease fire if he does?”
“Of course. We didn’t come here to start a war, or to bother him in any way; just to see
you. So I’ll do better than that; I’ll cut my offense right now.”
He thought at the Brain and the raging inferno above the llanzlanate went suddenly
calm and still. “That beam is no pencil of force, believe me. If it should get through it
would volatilize his palace and half the city, and that would be unfortunate-heyl He’s quit
slugging, too!”
“Of course,” Mergon said. “As I told you, he is-all Llurdi are-completely and perfectly
logical. With their own brand of logic, of course. Insanely logical, to our way of thinking .