There were two major things which I cut from Legacy, which are found in different parts of the novel.
The first, and principal one, was the constant interjection of material concerning the tortuous background involving Dr. Azol and Geth Fayle’s involvement in the disappearance of the key plasmoid — as well as a lot of unnecessary exposition on the plasmoid itself. That material was concentrated in Chapters 6-9, but tended to metastasize like a tumor throughout the first two-thirds of the novel.
The second, which comes toward the end of the novel, was the excessive interjection of Trigger’s personal background into the psychological discussion between she and Pilch.
I’m going to take these one at a time, starting with the Azol-Fayle-plasmoid business. By the way, readers will note instances where it appears that I added a fair amount of text of my own. With the exception of a few clauses, that’s an optical illusion. If you look closely, you will see that the text is simply Schmitz’s text elsewhere which I cut and moved to a more suitable location to maintain the continuity of the story through my editorial cuts.
I’m not giving you all of the material, because that would require quoting over half of the novel. I’m simply giving you those places where any important editing was done. So you’ll be skipping over sections where the text was left unchanged.
Okay, here it is:
“In some way,” Holati Tate said, “this little item here seems to be at the core of the whole plasmoid problem. Know what it is?”
Trigger looked at the little item with some revulsion. Dark green, marbled with pink streakings, it lay on the table between them, rather like a plump leech a foot and a half long. It was motionless except that the end nearest her shifted in a short arc from side to side, as if the thing suffered from a very slow twitch.
“One of the plasmoids obviously,” she said. “A jumpy one.” She blinked at it. “Looks like that 113. Is it?”
She glanced around. Commissioner Tate and Professor Mantelish, who sat in a armchair off to her right, were staring at her, eyebrows up, apparently surprised about something. “What’s the matter?” she asked.
“We’re just wondering,” said Holati, “how you happen to remember 113, in particular, out of the thousands of plasmoids on Harvest Moon.”
“Oh. One of the Junior Scientists on your Project mentioned the 112-113 unit. That brought it to mind. Is this 113?”
Chapter 6
When Trigger was brought to Commissioner Tate’s little private office and inquired with some heat what the devil was up, the tall grabber hadn’t come into the office with her. He asked the Commissioner from the door whether he should get Professor Mantelish to the conference room, and the Commissioner nodded. The door closed and the two of them were alone.
“No,” said Holati Tate. “But it appears to be a duplicate of it.” HeCommissioner Tate was a mild-looking little man, well along in years, sparse and spruce in his Precol uniform. The small gray eyes in the sun-darkened, leathery face weren’t really mild, if you considered them more closely, or if you knew the Commissioner.
“Have to fill you in on some of the background first, Trigger girl,” he’d said, when she was brought to his little private office and inquired with some heat what the devil was up. The tall grabber hadn’t come into the office with her. He asked the Commissioner from the door whether he should get Professor Mantelish to the conference room, and the Commissioner nodded. Then the door closed and the two of them were alone.
“I know it’s looked odd,” the CommissionerTate admitted, “but the circumstances have been very odd. Still are. And I didn’t want to worry you any more than I had to.”
Trigger, unmollified, pointed out that the methods he’d“Really? The methods you’ve used not to worry her hardly had been soothing.me have hardly been soothing,” said Trigger, unmollified.
“I know that, too,” said the Commissioner. “But if I’d told you everything immediately, you would have had reason enough to be worried for the past two months, rather than just for a day or so. The situation has improved now, very considerably. In fact, in another few days you shouldn’t have any more reason to worry at all.” He smiled briefly. “At least, no more than the rest of us.”
Trigger felt a bit dry-lipped suddenly. “I do at present?” she asked.
“You did till today. There’s been some pretty heavy heat on you, Trigger girl. We’re switching most of it off tonight. For good, I think.”
“You mean some heat will be left?”
“In a way,” he said. “But that should be cleared up too in the next three or fourdays. Anyway we can drop most of the mystery act tonight.”
Trigger shook her head. “It isn’t being dropped very fast!” she observed.
“I told you I couldn’t tell it backwards,” the Commissioner said patiently. “All right if we start filling in the background now?”
“I guess we’d better,” she admitted.
“Fine,” said Commissioner Tate. Hedays.” Commissioner Tate got to his feet. “Then let’s go join Mantelish.”
“Why the professor?”
“He could help a lot with the explaining. If he’s in the mood. Anyway he’s got a kind of pet I’d like you to look at.”
“A pet!” cried Trigger. She shook her head again and stood up resignedly. “Lead on, Commissioner!”
***
They joined Mantelish and his plasmoid weirdie in what looked like the dining room of what had looked like an old-fashioned hunting lodge when the aircar came diving down on it between two ice-sheeted mountain peaks. Trigger wasn’t sure in just what section of the main continent they were; but there were only two or three alternatives — it was high in the mountains, and night came a lot faster here than it did around Ceyce.
She greeted Mantelish and sat down at the table. He was a very big, rather fat but healthy-looking old man with a thick thatch of white hair and a ruddy face.
Then the Commissioner locked the doors and introduced her to the professor’s pet.
“In some way,” Holati Tate said, “this little item here seems to be at the core of the whole plasmoid problem. Know what it is?”
Trigger looked at the little item with some revulsion. Dark green, marbled with pink streakings, it lay on the table between them, rather like a plump leech a foot and a half long. It was motionless except that the end nearest her shifted in a short arc from side to side, as if the thing suffered from a very slow twitch.
“One of the plasmoids obviously,” she said. “A jumpy one.” She blinked at it. “Looks like that 113. Is it?”
She glanced around. Commissioner Tate and Professor Mantelish, who sat in a armchair off to her right, were staring at her, eyebrows up, apparently surprised about something. “What’s the matter?” she asked.
“We’re just wondering,” said Holati, “how you happen to remember 113, in particular, out of the thousands of plasmoids on Harvest Moon.”
“Oh. One of the Junior Scientists on your Project mentioned the 112-113 unit. That brought it to mind. Is this 113?”
“It’s labeled 113-A,” he said now. “Even”No,” said Holati Tate. “But it appears to be a duplicate of it. It’s labeled 113-A. Even the professor isn’t certain he could distinguish between the two. Right, Mantelish?”
“That is true,” said Mantelish, “at present.” He was a very big, rather fat but healthy-looking old man with a thick thatch of white hair and a ruddy face. “Withoutpresent. Without a physical comparison–” He shrugged.
“What’s so important about the critter?” Trigger asked, eying the leech again. One good thing about it, she thought — it wasn’t equipped to eye her back.
“It goes back to the time,””The plasmoid you mentioned earlier, Unit 112-113, has been stolen,” the Commissionersaid, “when Mantelish and Fayle and Azol were conducting the first League investigation of the plasmoids on Harvest Moon. You recall the situation?”
“If you mean their attempts to get the things to show some signs of life, I do, naturally.”
“One of them got lively enough for poor old Azol, didn’t it?” Professor. Mantelish rumbled from his armchair.
Trigger grimaced. Doctor Azol’s fate might be one of the things that had given her a negative attitude towards plasmoids. With Mantelish, and Doctor Gess Fayle, Azol had been the third of the three big U-League boys in charge of the initial investigation on Harvest Moon. As she remembered it, it was Azol who discovered that plasmoids occasionally could be induced to absorb food. Almost any kind of food, it turned out, so long as it contained a sufficient quantity of protein. What had happened to Azol looked like a particularly unfortunate result of the discovery. It was assumed an untimely coronary had been the reason he had fallen helplessly into the feeding trough of one of the largest plasmoids. By the time he was found, all of him from the knees on up already had been absorbed.