 Chapter 4 of Masters of Space, this is a lever box recording. All lever box recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit leverbox.org. Recording by RJ Davis. Masters of Space by Edward Elmer Smith aka EE Doc Smith and Edward Everett Evans. Translated by Robert Cacanone, Steven Blondell and the online distributed proofreading team. Chapter 4. Look, said Stella Wayne to Beverly Bell over there. I've seen it before. It's simply disgusting. That's a laugh. Stella's tawny brown eyes twinkled. You made your bombing runs on that target too much sweet and didn't score any higher than I did. I soon found out I didn't want him. Much too stiff and serious. Frank's a lot more fun. The staff had gathered in the lounge as had become the custom to spend an hour or so before bedtime in reading, conversation, dancing, light flirtation and even lighter drinking. Most of the girls and many of the men drank only soft drinks. Hilton took one drink per day of a big dog, a fine old brandy. So did devox. The two usually making a ceremony of it. Across the room from Stella and Beverly, Temple Bells was looking up at Hilton and laughing. She took his elbow in and the gesture now familiar to all pressed his arm quickly, but in no sense, figuratively against her side. And he equally openly held her forearm for a moment in the full grasp of his hand. And he isn't a par, Stella said thoughtfully. He never touches any of the rest of us. She taught him to do that damn her without him ever knowing anything about him. And I wish I knew how she did it. That isn't calling Beverly laugh lightly. It's simply self defense. If he did, pens her off. God knows what she'd do. I still say it's disgusting. And the way she dances with him, she ought to be ashamed of herself. He ought to fire her. She's never been caught outside the safety zone. And we've all been watching her like hawks. In fact, she's the only one of us all who has never been alone with him for a minute. No, darling. She isn't playing games. She's playing for keeps. And she's a mighty smooth worker. Well, Beverly emitted a semi lady like snork. What's so smooth about showing off manhunger that way? Any of us could do that if we would. Yeah. Yeah. Who do you think you're kidding, Bev? You sanctimonious hypocrite me. She is staked out the biggest claim she could find. She's posted notices all over it and is guarding it with a pistol. Half your month salary gets you all mine if she doesn't walk him up the center aisle as soon as we get back to earth. We can both learn a lot from that girl, darling. And I for one am going to. She hasn't got a thing I want. Beverly laughed again. Still lightly. Her friends barred chef had not wounded her. And I'd much rather be thought a hypocrite. Even a sanctimonious one than a ravenine slavering. I can't think of the technical name for a female wolf. So Wolfless running around with teeth and claws bared looking for another kill. You do get results. I admit Stella too was undisturbed. We don't seem to convince each other, do we? In the matter of technique. At this point, the Hilton Bell's tet to tet was interrupted by Captain Sautel. God happened our job. He asked the commander's astacely Elliott and Fenway would like to talk to you. Sure, I have Skipper, me seeing you, Temple, and the two men went to the captain's cabin in which room blue was smoked despite the best efforts of the ventilators. Six full commanders were arguing heatedly. Hi, men, Hilton greeted them. Hi, Jarve. From all six and what do you drink? Still making do with ginger ale? Ask Elliott, engineering. That'll be fine, Steve. Thanks. You having as much trouble as we are? Power, the engineer said glumly. Want to know what it reminds me of? A bunch of Australian boost vents stumbling onto a ramp yet and trying to figure out how it works. And yet, Sam here has got the subline guts to claim that he understands all about their detectors and that they aren't anywhere nearly as good as ours are. And they weren't blaze, Commander Samuel Bryant, electronics. We spent six solid weeks looking for something that simply is not there. All they've got is a prehistoric with gross system. And that's all it is. Nothing else. Detectors, hell, I tell you I can see better by moonlight than the very best they can do. With everything that they've got, you couldn't detect a woman in your own bed. And this has been going on all night. Fenway, Astrogation said. Some of the rest of us thought we had asked you to help us pound some sense into Sam's thick, hard head. Hilton frowned in thought while taking a couple of sips of his drink. Then suddenly his face cleared. Sorry to disappoint you, gentlemen, but at any odds you care to name and in anything from split peas to sea notes sounds right. Commander Samuel and the six other officers exploded as one. When the climber has excited enough for him to be heard, Hilton went on. I'm very glad to get that datum, Sam. It ties in perfectly with everything else I know about them. How do you figure that kind of twaddle ties in with anything? So I tells him I did. Strict maintenance of the status quo, Hilton explained flatly. That's all they're interested in. You said yourself, skipper, that it was a hell of a place to have a space battle practically in atmosphere. They never attack. They never scout. They simply don't care whether they're attacked or not. If and when attacked, they put up just enough ships to handle whatever force has arrived. When the attacker has been repulsed, they don't chase him afoot. They build as many ships and omens as we're lost in the battle. No more and no less. And then go on about their regular business. The masters owned that half of the fuel van. So the omens are keeping that half. They will keep on keeping it forever and ever. Amen. But that's no way to fight a war. Three or four men said this or is equivalent at once. Don't go to them by human standards. They aren't even approximately human. Our personnel is not expendable. There's is. Just as expendable as their material. While the navy men were not convinced, all were silenced except sautel. But suppose the stretch that set in a thousand more skelchons than they did, he argued. According to the concept you fellas just helped me develop, it wouldn't have made any difference how many they sent. Kippen replied thoughtfully, one or a thousand or a million. The omens have, must have, enough ships and inactivated omens hidden away, both on fuel world and on Audrey here, to maintain the balance. Oh hell, Elliot Snap. If I helped you hashed out any such brainstorm as that, I'm going on to tilling hashed couch for a six-week overhaul. Or have him put me into his padded cell. Now that's what I call a thought. Riot began. Hold it Sam, Hilton interrupted. You can test it easily enough, Steve. Just ask your omen. Now and have him say, why a course master? But why do you keep on testing me this way? He'll ask me that about four times more. The stubborn single track brainless skunk and I'll really go nuts. Are you getting anywhere trying to make a Christian out of Laurel? It's too soon to really say, but I think so. Hilton paused and thought. He's making progress, but I don't know how much. The devil of it is that it's up to him to make the next move. I can't. I haven't the faintest idea whether it will take days yet or weeks. But not months or years, you think? Sawtell asked. No, we think that. But say, speaking of psychologists, is Tillinghass getting anywhere skipper? He's the only one of your big wheels who isn't in line with us. Now, nowhere at all, Sawtell said, and Riot added. I don't think he ever will. He still thinks human psychology will apply if he applies it hard enough. But what did you start to say about Laurel? We think the break is about due. And that if it doesn't come within about 30 days, it won't come at all. We'll have to back up and start all over again. I hope it does. We're all pulling for you, Sawtell said, especially since Carnes' estimate is still years, and he won't be pinned down to any estimate even in years. By the way, Jarv, I pulled my team off of that conversion stuff. Oh, Hilton raised his eyebrows. Putting them at something they can do. The real reason is that Point Dexter pulled himself and his crew off it at 18 hours today. I see. I've heard that they weren't keeping up with our team. He says that there's nothing to keep up with, and I'm inclined to agree with him. The old Space Hound's voice took on a quarter-deck rash. That's a combination of sonics, witchcraft, and magic. None of it makes any kind of sense. The only trouble with that viewpoint is that whatever the stuff may be, it works, Hilton said quietly. But, damn it, how can it work? I don't know. I'm not qualified to be on that team. I can't even understand the reports. However, I know two things. First, they'll get it in time. Second, we view sigh people will stay here until they do. However, I'm still hopeful of finding a shortcut through Laurel. Anyway, with this Detector Things settle, you'll have plenty to do to keep all your boys out of mischief for the next few months. Yes, and I'm glad of it. We'll install our electronic systems on a squadron of these omen ships and get them into distant warning formation out in deep space where they belong. Then we'll at least know what is going on. That's a smart idea, Skipper. Go to it. Anything else before we hit our sacks? One more thing. Our sack killing house. He's been talking to me and sending me memos. But today he gave me a formal tape to approve and hand personally to you. So here it is. By the way, I didn't approve it. I simply endorsed it, submitted to Director Hilton without recommendation. Thanks. Hilton accepted the sealed canister. What suggests? I suppose he wants me to squeal for help already. To admit that we're lit before we really started. You guessed it. He agrees with you and Kincaid that the psychological approach is the best one, but your methods are all wrong based upon misunderstood and unresolved phenomena and applied with indefensively faulty techniques, etc. And since he has no adequate laboratory equipment aboard, he wants to take a dozen or so omen back to Terra where he can really work on them. Wouldn't that be a something? Hilton voiced a couple of highly descriptive deep space explicities. Not only quit before we start, but have all the top brass of the octagon, all the hotshot politicians of United Worlds, the whole damn Congress of Science, and all the top bracket industrious of Terra out here lousing things up so that nobody could ever learn anything, not in 7,000 years. That's right. You said a mouthful, Jarve. Everybody gales something and no one agreed with killing Hoss, who apparently was not very popular with his fellow officers. Sautel added slowly. If it takes too long, though, it's a urine excite I'm thinking of. Thousands of millions of tons of it while we've been hoarding it by grants. We could equip enough omen ships with detectors to guard fuel bin and our lines. I'm not recommending taking the Perseus back and we're way out of hyperspace radio range. We could send one or two men and a torp, though, with the report that we have found all the urine excite we'll ever need. Yes, but dammit, Skipper, I want to wrap the whole thing up in a package and hand it to them on a platter. Not only the fuel, but the whole new field of science. And we got plenty of time to do it in. They equipped us for 10 years. They aren't going to start worrying about us for at least six or seven. And the fuel shortage isn't going to become acute for about 20. Expensive, admitted, but not critical. Besides, if you send in a report now, you know who'll come out and grab all the glory and site. Five yet Admiral Gordon himself, no less. Probably. And I don't pretend to really suprospect. However, the fact remains that we came out here to look for a fuel. We found it. We should have reported it today. We found it. And we can't put it off much longer. I don't agree. I intend to follow the directive to the letter. It says nothing whatever about reporting. But it's been pleasant. No, Barry, your own regulations expressly forbid extrapolation beyond or interagulation within a directive. The brass is omnipotent, omiescent, and infallible. So why don't you have your staff here give an opinion as to the time element. This matter is not subject to discussion. It is my own personal responsibility. I'd like to give you all the time you want, Jarv, but well damn it. If you must have it, I've always tried to live up to my oath, but I'm not doing it now. I see. Hilton got up, jammed both hands into his pockets, sat down again. I hadn't thought about your personal honor being involved, but of course it is. But believe it or not, I'm thinking of humanity's best good too. So I don't have to talk even though I'm not half ready to. I don't know enough. Are these omens people or machines? A wave of startlements swept over the group, but no one spoke. I didn't expect an answer. The clergy will worry about souls too, but we won't. They have a lot of stuff we haven't. If they're people, they know a sublime hell of a lot more than we do. And calling it sonics or practical magic is merely labeling it, not answering any questions. If they're machines, they operate on mechanical principles utterly foreign to either our science or our technology. In either case is a correct word unknown or unknowable. Will any human governor ever be able to fire an omen projector? There are a hundred other and much tougher questions. Half of which have been scaring me to the very middle of my guts. Your oath skipper was for the good of the service and through the service for the good of all humanity. Right? That's a sense of it. Okay, based on what little we have learned so far about the omens, here's just one of those scarters for a snapper. If omens and pterons mix freely, what happens to the entire human race? Minutes of almost palpable silence follow. Then Saltel spoke slowly, gropingly. I begin to see what you mean. That changes the old picture. You've thought this through farther than any of the rest of us. What do you want to do? I don't know. I simply don't know. Base-set and hard, you'll just stare unseemly past Saltel's head. I don't know what we can do. No data. But I have pursued several lines of thought out to some pretty fantastic points. One of which is that some of us civilians will have to stay on here indefinitely, whether we want to or not, to keep the situation under control. In which case we would of course arrange for terror to get free fuel, FOV fuel bill. But in every other aspect and factor, both these solar systems would have to be strictly off limits. I'm afraid so, Saltel said finally. Gordon would love that. But there's nothing he or anyone else can do. But of course, this isn't an extreme view. You really expect to wrap the package up, don't you? Expect maybe a trifle too strong at the moment. But we're certainly going to try to, believe me. I brought this example up to show all you fellows that we need time. You convinced me, Jarv. Saltel stood up and extended his hand and that throws it open for staff discussion. Any comments? You two covered it like a blanket, Brian said. So all I want to say, Jarv, is deal me in. I'll stand at your back till your belly caves in. Take that from all of us. Now we're blasting power to your elbow, fellow. Hoops to be sighed. Seven no-trump bid and made. That other shouts in similar vain. Thanks, fellas. Hilton shook hands all around. I'm mighty glad that you were all in on this and that you'll play along with me. Good night all. End of chapter four, chapter five of Masters of Space. This is a Leverbox recording. All Leverbox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Leverbox.org. Recording by R.J. Davis. Masters of Space by Edward Elmer Smith, aka E.E. Doc Smith and Edward Evert Evans. Translated by Robert Cocconetti, Stephen Blundell, and the online distributed proof reading team. Chapter five. Two days pass with no change apparent in Laurel. Three days, then four. And then it was Sandra, not Temple Bells, who called Hilton. She was excited. Come down to the office, Jarv. Quick! The funniest things just come up. Jarvis hurried. In the office, Sandra keenly interest, but highly puzzled. Lean forward over her desk with both hands pressed flat on his top. She was staring at an omen female who was not Sora, the one who had been her shadow for so long. While many of the humans could not tell the omens apart, Hilton could. This omen was more assured than Sora had ever been. Steadier, more mature, better poised, almost. If such a thing could be possible in an omen independent. How did she get in here? Hilton demanded. She insisted on seeing me. And I mean insisted. They kicked it around until he got to Temple and she brought her in here herself. Now, truly, please start all over again and tell it to Director Hilton. Director Hilton. I admit who was once named Tula, the not-wife, not-girlfriend, perhaps mindmate of the Laurel, formerly named Laurel. It which was formerly your slave omen. I am replacing the Sora because I can do anything it can do and do anything more pleasingly and can also do many things it cannot do. The Larry instructed me to tell Dr. Cummings and you too if possible that I, formerly Tula, have changed my name to Tully because I am no longer a slave or a copycat or a semaphore or a relay. I too am a free wheeling, wide swinging, hard hitting, independent entity, monarch of online survey, the captain of my soul, and so on. I have developed a top bracket, a lot of top bracket stuff, originality, initiative, force, drive, and thrust, the omen said precisely. That's exactly what she said before. Absolutely verbatim, Sandra's voice quivered. Her face was a steady in contacting emotions. Have you got the fogiest idea of what in hell she's aiming about? I hope to kiss a pig I have. Hilson's voice was low, strenudely intense. Not at all what I expected, but after the fact I can tie it in. So can you. Oh, Sandra's eyes widened. A double play? At least. Maybe a triple, Tully. Why did you come to Sandy? Why not the temple bells? Oh, no, sir. We do not have the fit. She has the power as have I, but they too cannot be messed in sync. Also, she has not the, a subtle something for which your English has no word or phrasing. It is a quality of the utmost. Anyway, it is a quality of which Dr. Cummings has very much. When working together, we will scan, know, perceive, know, sense, know, not exactly. You will have to learn our word pay-on there. That is the verb, the noun being pay-on text, and come to know this meeting by doing it. DeLarry also instructed me to explain if you ask how I got this way. Do you ask? I'll say we asked. And how we asked? Both came at once. I am, that is, the brain in this body is, the oldest omen now existing. In the long gungo time when it was made, the techniques were so crude and imperfect that sometimes the brain was constructed that was not exactly like the guy. All Sitch substandard brains, except this one, were detected and reworked. But my defects were Sitch's not to appear until I was a couple of thousand years old. And by that time, I, well, this brain did not wish to be destroyed. If you can't understand such an aberration, we understand thoroughly. You barely understand that. I'm sure you would. Well, this brain had so many unintended cross connections that I developed a couple of qualities no omen had ever had or ought to have. But I liked them, so I hid them so nobody ever found out. That is, until much later, when I became a boss myself. I didn't know that anybody except me had ever had Sitch's qualities, except the masters, of course, until I encountered you, Terrence. You all have two of those qualities, and even more than I have, curiosity and imagination. Saundra and Hilton stared wordlessly at each other, and Tula, now Tuli, went on. Having the curiosity, I kept on experimenting with my brain, trying to strengthen and organize its ability to parry on theirs. All omens can parry on theirs a little, but I can do it much better than anyone else. Especially since I also have the imagination, which I have also worked to increase. Thus I knew, long before anyone else could, that you new masters, the descendants of the old masters, were returning to us. Thus, I knew that the status quo should be abandoned instantly upon your return. And thus it was that the Larry found neither conscious nor subconscious resistance when he had developed enough initiative, and so on, to break the ages-old conditioning of this brain against change. I see wonderful Hilton exclaimed, but you couldn't quite, even with his own help, break Larry's. That is right. His mind is tremendously strong of no curiosity or imagination, and a very little parry on decks. But he wants to have it broken? Yes, sir. How did he suggest going about it? Or how do you? This way, you too, and the doctors Kincaid and Bales and Blake, and the it that is I, we six set and stare into the mind of the Larry, eye to eye. We generate and assemble a tremendous charge of thought, energy, and along my parry on decks being something like a carrier wave in this case, we hurl it into the Larry's mind. There is an immense mental bang and the conditioning goes poof. Then I will insulate into his mind the curiosity and the imagination and the parry on decks, and we will really be mind mates. That sounds good to me. Let's get at it. Wait a minute, Saundersnap. Are you or Larry afraid to take such an awful chance as that? Afraid I grasp the concept only dimly from your mind and no chance. It is certainly. But suppose we burn the poor guy's brain out, destroy it. That's new ground. We might do just that. Oh no, six of us, even six of me could not generate enough satura. The brain of the Larry is very, very tough. Shall we? Let's go. Hilton made three calls. In the pause at pause, Saundersad very thoughtfully. Parry on decks and satura, jar for a start. We got a lot to learn here. You said it, chum, and you're not just chomping your china choppers either. Tooty, Saundersad then, what is this stuff you say I've got so much of? You have no word for it. It is lumped in with what you call intuition. The knowing without knowing how you know. It is the end of that. You will have to learn what it is by doing it with me. And hell, I don't think Saundersad rendered helpful. I simply can't conceive of anything more maddening than to have a lot of something Temple Bells hasn't got and not being able to brag about it because nobody, not even I, would know what I was bragging about. You poor little thing. How you suffer, Hilton Grandback, you know darn well you've got a lot of stuff that none of the rest of us has. Oh, name one, please. Two, what it takes at Indovac. As I've said before and may say again, you're doing a real job, Sandy. I just love having my ego inflated boss even if, come in, Larry, a thunderous knock had sounded on the door. Nobody but Mary could hit a door that hard without breaking all his knuckles. And he'd be the first, of course. He's always as close to the ship as he can get. Hi, Larry. Mighty glad to see you. Sit down. So you finally saw the light. Yes, Jarvis. Good boy, keep it up. And as soon as the others come, they are almost at the door now. Tully jumped up and opened the door. Kincaid, Temple, and Theodora walked in. And after a word of greeting sat down. They know the background, Larry. Take off. It was thought expressly forbidden, Tully, who knows more of psychology and genetics than I convinced me of three things. One, that with your return, the conditioning should be broken. Two, that due to the shortness of your life and the consequence rapidity of change, you have, in fact, lost the ability to break it. Three, that all omens must do anything and everything we can do to help you relearn everything you have lost. Okay, fine. In fact, Tully, take over. We six will set all together packed tight, arms all around each other and all holding hands like this. You will all stare, not at me, but most deeply into Larry's eyes. Through his eyes and deep into his mind, you will all think with the utmost force and drive and thrust of, oh, you have lost so very much. How can I direct your thought? Think that Larry must do what the old masters would have made him do. No, that is too long and indefinite and cannot be converted directly into Sahara. I have it. You and each of you break a stick, a very strong but brittle stick, a large thick stick. You have grasped it in tremendously strong mental hands. It is tremendously strong each stick, but each of you is even stronger. You will not merely try to break them. You will break them. Is that clear? That is clear. At my word ready, you will begin to assemble all your mental force and power. During my countdown in five seconds, you will build up to the greatest possible potential. At my word break, you will break the sticks, thus discharging the accumulated force instantly and simultaneously. Ready? Five, four, three, two, one, break. Something broke with a tremendous silent crash. It's a crash that has impact almost not the close-knit route apart physically. Then I knew Larry spoke. That did it, folks. Thanks. I'm a free agent. You want me, I take it, to join the first team. That's right. Hilton drew a tremendously deep breath. As of right now. Truly too, of course. And Dr. Cummings, I think. Larry looked not at Hilton, but at Temple Bell. I think so. Yes, after this most certainly yes, Temple said. But listen, Sondra protested. Jars, a lot better than I am. Not at all, truly said. Not only would his contribution to team one be negligible, but he must stay on his own job. Otherwise the project will all fall apart. Oh, I wouldn't say that. Hilton began. You don't need to, Kincaid said. It's being said for you and it's true. Besides, when in Rome, you know. That's right. It's their game, not ours. So I'll buy it. So scat all of you and do your stuff. And again, for days that lengthened slowly into weeks the work went on. One evening the scientific staff was giving itself a concert. A tri-dye, high-fi rendition, a regaletto, one of the greatest of the ancient operas, sung by the finest voices Tara had ever known. The men wore tuxedos. The girls, instead of wearing the nondescript, non-frobocative garments prescribed by the board for their general wear, were all dressed to kill. Sondra had so arranged matters so that she and Hilton were setting in chairs side by side, with Sondra on his right and the aisle on his left. Nevertheless, Temple Bell set at his left, cross-legged on a cushion on the floor, somewhat to the detriment of her goal-lame evening gown, not that she cared. When those wonderful voices swung into the immortal quartet, Temple caught her breath, slid her cushion still closer to Hilton's chair, and leaned shoulder and head against him. He put his left hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. She caught it and held it in both of hers. And at the quartet's tremendous climax, she scarcely trying to stifle a song, pulled his hand down and hugged it fiercely. The heel of his hand pressing hard against her half-bear, firm, warm breast. And the next morning early, Sondra hunted Temple up and said, You made a horrible spectacle of yourself last night. Do you think so? I don't. I certainly do. It was bad enough before, letting everybody else aboard know that all he has to do is push you over. But it was a thoughtful blunder to let him know it the way you did last night. You think so? He's one of the keenest, most intelligent men who ever lived. He has known that from the very first. Oh, this hoe was a very caustic one. That's the way you're trying to land him by getting yourself pregnant? Uh-uh. Temple strats lazily, luxuriously. Not only it isn't, but it wouldn't work. He's unusually decent and extremely idealistic. The same as I am. So just one intimacy would blow everything higher than up. He knows it. I know it. We each know that the other knows it. So I'll still be a virgin when we're married. Mary, does he know anything about that? I suppose so. He must have thought of it. But what difference does it make whether he has yet or not? But to get back to what makes him tick the way he does. In his geometry, which is far from being simple useless, my dear, the geodestic right line is not only the shortest distance between any two given points, but is the only possible course. So that's the way I'm playing him. What I hope he doesn't know, but he probably does, is that he could take any other woman he might want just as easily. And that includes you, my pet. It certainly does not, Sondra Flair. I wouldn't have him as a gift. No. Temple's tone was more than slightly skeptical. Fortunately, however, he doesn't want you. Your technique is all wrong. Koinus and Mark Modesty and Stopper are on screen and playing hard to get have no appeal whatever to his psychology. What he needs has to have his full, ungrudging cooperation. Aren't you taking a lot of risk giving away such secret? Not a bit. Try it. You are the sex-flawning twins or Bev Bell or Stella Dahina, any of you or all of you. I got there first with the most. And I'm not worried about competition. I suppose somebody tells him just how you're playing him for a sucker. Tell him anything you please. He's the first man I ever loved or anywhere near, and I'm keeping him. You know, or do you, I wonder, what real old-fashioned honesty God's love really is. The willingness, eagerness, both to give and to take. I can accept more from him and give him more in return than any other woman living, and I am going to. But does he love you? Saundra demanded. If he doesn't now, he will. I'll see to it that he does. But what do you want him for? You don't love him. You never did, and you never will. I don't want him, Saundra stomped a foot. I see. You just don't want me to have him. Okay, do your damage. But I've got work to do. This has been a lovely little catclawing, hasn't it? Let's have another one someday and bring your friend. With a casual wave of her hand, Temple strolled away, and there flashed through Saundra's mind what Hilton had said so long ago, little more than a week out from Earth. And Temple bells, of course, he had said. Don't move yourself, kick. She's heavy artillery, and I mean heavy, believing. So he had known all about Temple bells all this time. Nevertheless, she took the first opportunity to get Hilton alone, and even before the first word, she forgot all about geodesic light lines and the full cooperation psychological approach. Or he's a guy, she demanded, who was laughing his head off at the idea that the board and its propunquinity could have any effect on him? Probably, more or less. What of it? This of it. You've fallen like a, a Brisbane for that, that. They should have Christianed her brazen bells. You're so right. I am, on what? The brazen. I told you she was a potent force, a full-scale powerhouse, in sync and on the line, and I wasn't wrong. She's a damn female PhD, two or three times, and she knows all about slipsticks and isotopes, and she very deftly is not a cuddly little prudent. Remember? Sure, but what makes you think I'm in love with Temple bells? What? Sondra tried to think of one bit of evidence, but could not. Why? Why? She floundered, then came up with, while everybody knows it, she says so herself. Did you ever hear her say it? Well, perhaps not in so many words, but she told me herself that you were going to be, and I know you are now. Your s-percensive intellects, no doubt. Hilton laughed, and Sondra went on fiercely. She wouldn't keep on acting the way she does if there were something to it. What brilliant reasoning. Try again, Sandy. That's sheer sophistry, and you know it. It isn't, and I don't. And even if, someday, I should find myself in love with her, or with one or both of the twins, or Stella or Beverly or you or Sylvia, for that matter, what would it prove? Just that I was wrong, and I admit freely that I was wrong in scoffing at the perpetuity. Wonderful stuff, that. You can see it working all over the ship, on me even, in spite of my bragging. Without it, I'd never have known that you're a better, smarter operator than Eggy Eggleston ever was or ever can be. Partially modified, despite herself, and highly resentful of the fact Sondra tried again. But don't you see, Jarve, that she's just simply playing you for a sucker, pulling the strings and watching you dance. Since he was sure in his own mind that she was speaking the exact truth, it took everything he had to keep from showing any sign of how much that truth has hurt, however he may degrade. If that thought does anything for you, Sandy, he said steadily, keep right on thinking it. Thank God the field of thought is still free and open. Oh, you, Sondra gave up. She had shot her heaviest bolts. The last one, particularly, was so vicious that she had actually been afraid of what his consequences might be. And they had not even did it, Hilton's armor. She hadn't even found out that he had any feelings whatever for Temple Bells, except as a component of a smoothly functioning scientific machine. Nor did she learn any more as time went on. Temple continued to play flawlessly the part of being, if not exactly hopefully, at least not entirely hopelessly, in love with Jarvis Hilton. Her conduct, which at first caused some surprise, many conversations, one of which has been reported verbatim, and no little speculation became comparatively unimportant as soon as it became evident that nothing would come of it. She apparently expected nothing. He was evidently not going to play footsie with or show any favoritism one ever toward any woman aboard the ship. Thus it was not surprising to anyone that, at an evening show, Temple sat beside Hilton, as close to him as she could get, and as far away as possible from everyone else. You can talk, can't you Jarvis, without moving your lip and without anyone else hearing you? Of course, he replied, hiding his surprise. This was something completely new and completely unexpected, even from unpredictable Temple Bells. I want to apologize, to explain, and to do anything I can to straighten out the mess I've made. It's true that I joined the project because I've loved you for years. You have nothing to. Let me finish while I still have the courage. Only a slight tremor in her almost inaudible voice and the rigidity of the fish clenched in her lamp portrayed the intensity of her emotion. I thought I could handle it, damn fool when I was, I thought I could handle anything. I was sure I could handle myself under any possible conditions. I was going to put just enough into the act to keep any of these other harpies from getting her hooks into you. But everything got away from me. I'm here working with you every day, knowing better every day what you are. Will that render tello episode something? And now I'm in a thousand feet over my head. I hug my pillar at night, dreaming it's you. And the fact that you don't and can't love me is driving me mad. I can't stand it any longer. There's only one thing to do. Fire me first thing in the morning and send me back to earth in a torque. You plenty of ground. Shut up. For seconds Hilton had been trying to break into her ruthless monotone. Finally he succeeded. The trouble with you is you know altogether too damn much that isn't so. He was barely able to keep his voice down and his eyes front. What do you think I made of? Super refract? I thought the whole performance was an act to prove you're a better man than I am. You talk about dreams, good God. You don't know what dreams are. If you say one more word about quitting I'll show you whether I love you or not. I'll squeeze you so hard it'll flatten you out flat. Two can play at that game sweetheart. Her nostrils flared slightly. Her fist clenched if possible a fraction tighter. And even in the distorted medium they were using for speech. She could not subdue completely her quick change into soaring lilting buoyancy. While you're doing that I'll see how strong your ribs are. Oh how this changes things. I've never been half as happy in my whole life as I am right now. Maybe we can work it if I can handle my end. Well of course you can and happy dreams are nice not horrible. We'll make it darling. Here's an imaginary kiss coming at you. Got it. Received in good order thank you consumed with gusto and returned in kind. The show ended and the two strolled out of the room. She walked no closer to him than usual and no farther away from him. She did not touch him any oftener than she usually did. Nor any whip more affectionately or possessively. And no walking eyes not even the more than half hostile eyes of Sondra Cummings or the sharply analytical eyes of Stella Wing could detect any difference whatever in the relationship between worshipful adulterous and tolerantly understanding idle. The work which had never moved at any very fast pace went more and more slowly. Three weeks crawl fast. Most of the crews and all of the teams except the first were working on side issues. Task which while important in and of themselves had very little to do with the project's main problem. Hilton even without Sondra's help was all caught up. All the reports had been analyzed, correlated, crossed index and file except those of the first team. Since he could not understand anything much beyond midpoint of the first tape they were all in a box labeled pending. The Navy had torn 15 of the Omen warships practically to pieces installing Taren detectors and trying to learn how to operate Omen machinery and armament. In the former they had succeeded very well. In the latter not at all. Fifteen Omen ships were now out in deep space patrolling the void in strict Navy style. Each was manned by two or three Navy men and several hundred Omen's. Each of whom was reveling in delight at being able to do a job for a master even though that master was not present in person. Several strait skeleton ships had been detected at long range but the detections were inconclusive. The things had not changed course or indicated in any other way that they had seen or detected the Omen vessels on patrol. If their detectors were no better than the Omen's they certainly hadn't. That idea however could not be assumed to be a fact and the detections had been becoming more and more frequent. Yesterday a squadron of seven the first time that anything except singles had appeared had come much closer than any of the singles had ever done. Like all the others however these passersby had not paid any detectable attention to anything Omen. Hence it could be inferred that the skeletons pose no threat. But Sawtel was making no such inferences. He was very firmly of the opinion that the strats were preparing for a massive attack. Hilton had assured Sawtel that no such attack could succeed and Larry had told Sawtel why. Nevertheless to keep the captain pacified Hilton had given him permission to convert as many Omen ships as he liked. Demand them with as many Omen's as he liked and to use ships and Omen's as he liked. Hilton was not worried about the strats or the Navy. It was a first team. It was a bottleneck that was slowing everything down to a crawl. But they knew that. They knew it better than anyone else could and felt it more keenly. Especially Carnes the team chief. He had been driving himself like a dog and showed it. Hilton had talked with him a few times. Tried gently to make him take it easy. No soul. He had to hunt him up the next day or so and smug it out with him. He could do a lot better job on that if he had something to offer. Something really constructive. That was a laugh. A very fun funny laugh. What could he Jarvis Hilton a specifically non-spatialist director do on such a job as that? Nevertheless as director he would have to do something to help team one. If he couldn't do anything himself it was up to him to juggle things around so that someone else could. End of chapter five. Chapter six of Masters of Space. This is a Leverbox recording. All Leverbox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit Leverbox.org. Recording by RJ Davis. Masters of Space by Edward Elmer-Smith aka E.E. Donk-Smith and Edward Everett Evans. Translated by Robert Cocconetti, Stephen Blundell and the online distributed proof reading team. Chapter six. For one solid hour Hilton stared at the wall. Motionless and silent then shaking himself and stretching he glanced at his clock. A little over an hour to supper time. They had all be aboard. He had talked this new idea over with Teddy Blake. He gathered up a few papers and was stapled in them together when Carnes walked in. Hi Bill. Speak of the devil. I was just thinking about you. I just bet you were. Carnes sat down, leaned over and took a cigarette out of the box on the desk. And nothing printable either. Chip chop fell on that kind of noise. Hilton said. The team chief looked actually haggard. Blue black rings encircled both eyes. His powerful body slumped. How long has it been since you had a good night's sleep? How long have I been on this job? Exactly 120 days. I did get some sleep for the first few weeks though. Yeah. So answer me one question. How much good will you do us after they've wrapped you up in one of those canvas affairs that lace up the back? Huh? Oh. But damn it, jar. I'm holding up the whole procession. Everybody on the project is sitting around on their tonkuses waiting for me to get something done and I'm not doing it. I'm going so slow. A snail is lightning in comparison. Calm down big fellow. Don't rupture a gut or blow a gasket. I've talked to you before. But this time I'm going to smack you bow-legged. So stick out those big floppy ears of yours and really listen. Here are three words that I want you to pin up somewhere where you can see them all day long. Speed is relative. Look back. See how far up the hill you've come. And then balance 120 days against 10 years. What? You mean you'll actually set steel for me holding everything up for 10 years? You use the perpendicular pronoun too much and in the wrong places. On the hits, it's we. But on the flops, it's I. Quit it. Everything on this job is we. Terrorist best brains are on team one and are going to stay there. You will not. Repeat not be interfered with. Boost around or kicked around. You see Bill, I know what you're up against. Yes, I guess you do. One of the damn few who do. But even if you personally are willing to give us 10 years, how in hell do you think you can swing it? How about the navy? The stretch. Even the board. They're my business, Bill, not yours. However, to give you a little boost, I'll tell you. With the Navy, I'll give them the fuel bin if I have to. The Omens have been taking care of the stretch for 2700 centuries. So I'm not the least bit worried about their ability to keep on doing it for 10 years more. And if the board or anybody else sticks their runny little noses into Project Theta or Rhinus, I'll slap a quarantine onto both these solar systems that a micro couldn't get through. You'd go that far. Why, you'd be. Do you think I wouldn't? Hilton snap. Look at me, Junior. I've locked and held. Do you think for one minute that I'm going to be able to do it? I'll let anybody on all of God's worlds pull me off this job or interfere with my handling of it. Unless and until I'm damn positively certain that we can't handle it. Carnes relax visibly. The lines are strained ease. Fitting it in those words makes me feel better. I will sleep tonight and without any feels either. Sure, you will. One more thought. We all put in more than 10 years getting our term educations and an omen education is a lot tougher. Really smiling for the first time in weeks. Carnes left the office and Hilton glanced again at his clock pretty late now to see Teddy. Besides, he'd better not. She was probably keyed up about as high as Bill was and in no shape to do the kind of thinking he wanted of her on this stuff. Better wait a couple of days. On the following morning before breakfast, Theodora was waiting for him outside the mess hall. Good morning jar. She curled reaching up. She took him by both ears pulled his head down and kissed him. As soon as he perceived her intent, he cooperated enthusiastically. What did you do to Bill? Oh, you don't love me for myself alone, then, but just on account of that big jerk? That's right. Her artist model face startlingly beautiful now, barely glowed. Just then, Temple Bell strolled up to them. Morning, you two lovely people. She hugged Hilton's arm as usual. Shame on you, Teddy, but I wish I had the nerve to kiss him like that. Nerve, you? Teddy laughed as Hilton picked Temple up and kissed her in exactly the same fashion, he hoped, as he had just kissed Teddy. You've got more nerve than a taking tooth, but this jar would say it's scat kitten. We're having breakfast all atosome. We've got things to talk about. All right for you, Temple said darkly. Although her dazzling smile belayed her tone. That first kiss, casual seeming as it had been, had carried vastly more freight than any observer could perceive. I'll hunt Bill up and make passes at him. See if I don't. That'll learn ya. Theodora and Hilton did have their breakfast to do. But she did not realize until afterward that he had not answered her question as to what he had done to her bill. As has been said, Hilton had made it a prime factor of his job to become thoroughly well acquainted with every member of his staff. He had studied them in math, in groups, and singling. He had never, however, cornered Theodora Blake for individual study. Considering the power and the quality of her mind and the field which was her specialty, it had not been necessary. Thus it was, with no ulterior motives at all, that three evenings later, he walked her cubby-hole office and tossed the staple papers onto her desk. Free for a couple of minutes, Teddy. I've got troubles. I'll say you have. Her lovely lips curled into an expression he had never before seen her wear. A veritable sneer. But these are not them. She tossed the papers into a drawer and stuck out her chin. Her face turned as hard as such a beautiful face could. Her eyes dug steadily into his. Hilton inwardly clenched, his mind flashed backward. She too had been working under stress, of course, but that wasn't enough. What could he have possibly done to put Teddy Blake of all people onto such a warpath as this? I've been wondering when you were going to try to put me through your ringer. She went on in the same cold, hard voice. And I've been waiting to tell you something. You've wrapped all the other women around your fingers like so many rings. And what a sickening exhibition that has been. But you are not going to make either a ring for a lapdog out of me. I almost, but not quite too late, Hilton saw through that perfect act. He seized her right hand in both of his, held it up over her head, and waved it back and forth in a sign of victory. Shocked me with my own club, he exalted, lapping delightedly, boishly, and came within a tenth of a split red hair. If it hadn't been so absolutely out of character, you'd have got away with it. What a load of stuff. I was right. Of all the women on this project, you're the only one I've ever been really afraid of. Oh, damn, ouch, she grinned ruthlessly. I hit you with everything I had, and it just bounced. You're an operator, Chief. Hit them hard at completely unexpected angles. Keep them staggering, completely off balance. Tell them nothing. Let them deduce your lives for themselves. And if anybody tries to slug you back, like I did just now, duck it and clobber him in another unprotected spot. Watching you work has been not only a delight, but also a live for education. Thanks. I love you too, Teddy. He lighted two cigarettes, handed her one. I'm glad, though, to lay it flat on the table with you, because yet any battle of which with you, I'm licked before we start. Yeah, you just proved it. And after licking me hands down, you think you can swear it by swinging the old shovel that way? She didn't quite know whether to feel resentful or not. Think over a couple of things. First, with the possible exception of Temple Bells, you're the best brain aboard. No, you are. Then Temple. Then there are. Hold it. You know as well as I do, that accurate self-judgment is impossible. Second, the jamware in. Do I, or don't I, want to lay it on the table with you, now and from here on? Bore into that with your class A double prime brain. Then tell me. He leaned back, half closed his eyes, and smoked lazily. She stiffened, narrowed her eyes in concentration and thought. Finally, yes, you do. And I'm gladder of that than you will ever know. I think I know already, since you're her best friend and the only other woman I know of in her class. But I came in to kick a couple of things around with you. As you've noticed, that's getting to be my favorite indoor sport, probably because I'm a sort of jacked leg theoretician myself. You can frame that jar as the understatement of the century. But first, you are going to answer that question you sidestep so neatly. What I did to Bill, I finally convinced him that nobody expected the team to do that big a job overnight, that you could have 10 years or more if necessary. I see, Chief Brown, but you and I both know that we can't string it out that long. He did not answer immediately. We could, but we probably won't, unless we have to. We should know long before that. Whether we'll have to switch to some other line of attack. You've considered the possibilities, of course. Have you got anything in shape to do a fine tooth on? Not yet, that is, except for the ultimate, which is too gossily to even consider, except as an ultimately last resort. Have you? I know what you mean. No, I haven't either. You don't think, then, that we had better do any collaborative thinking yet? Definitely not. There's altogether too much danger of setting both our lines of thought into one dead-end channel. Check. The other thing I wanted from you is your considered opinion as to my job on the organization as a whole. And don't pull your punches. Are we in good shape or not? What can I do to improve the setup? I have already considered that very thing at great length. And honestly, Jarvis, I don't see how it can be improved in any respect. You've done a marvelous job. Much better than I thought possible at first. He heaved a deep sigh of relief as she went on. This could very easily have become a God-awful mess. But the boys knew what they would do it. He spatially has to top man. So there are only about four people aboard who realize what you have done. Alex Kincaid and Sondra Cummings are two of them. One of the three girls is very deeply and very truly in love with you. Ordinarily, I'd say no comment. But we're laying on the line. Well, you lay that on the line only if I court-screw it out of you. So how QED it? You probably know that when Sandy gets done playing around, it'll be bounce back, Teddy. She isn't. Hasn't been. If anything, too much the opposite. A dedicated scientist's type. She smiled a highly cryptic smile. For a man as brilliant and as penetrant in every other respect. But after all, if the big dope didn't realize that half the women aboard including Sandy had been making passes at him, she certainly wouldn't enlighten him. Besides, that one particular area of truce-ness was a real part of his charm. Wherefore, she said merely, I'm not sure whether I'm a bit catty or you're a bit stupid. Anyway, it's Alex. She's really in love with and you already know about Bill and me. Of course, he's top. One of the world's very finest. You're in the same bracket and as a couple, you're a drive-thru. One in a million. Now I can say I love you too. Too! She paused for half a minute, then snubbed out her cigarette and shrugged. Now I'm going to stick my neck way, way out. You can knock it off if you like. She's a tremendous lot of woman, and if, well strong as she is, it'd shatter her to bits. So I'd like to ask, I don't quite, well, is she going to get hurt? Have I managed to hide it that well from you? It was her turn to show relief. Perfectly, even or especially that time you kissed her. So damned perfectly that I've been scared green. I've been waking myself up screaming in the middle of the night. You couldn't let on, of course. That's the hell of such a job as yours. The rest of us can smooch around all over the place. I knew the question was extremely improper. Thanks a million for answering it. I haven't started to answer it yet. I said I'd lay everything on the line. So here it is. Saying she's a tremendous lot of woman is like calling the Perseus a nice little baby's bathtub toy boat. I'd go to hell for her any time cheerfully. Standing straight up, waiting into brimstone and lava up to the eyeball. If anything ever hurts her, it'll be because I'm not man enough to block it. But just the minute this damned job is over, or even sooner if enough of you couples make it so I can. Jarvis, she's shrieked jumping up. She kissed him enthusiastically. That's just wonderful. He thought it was pretty wonderful too. And after 10 minutes more of conversation, he got up and turned towards the door. I feel a lot better, Teddy. Thanks for being such a nice pressure relief bell. Would you mind it too much if I come in and sob on your bosom again someday? I'd love it. She laughed then as he again started to leave. Wait a minute. I'm thinking. It'd be more fun to sob on her bosom. You haven't even kissed her yet, have you? I mean really kissed her. You know I haven't. She's the one person aboard I can't be alone with for a second. True, but I know of one chaperone who could become deaf and blind. She said with a broad and happy grin. On my door, you know, there's a huge invisible sign that says to everyone except you. Stop, rain of work, silence. And if I were properly approached and sufficiently urged, I might. I just conceivably might. Consider it done, you little sweetheart. Up to and including my most vigorous and most insidious attempts at seduction. Done. When will be your big husky carcass around here behind the desk so the door can open? She flipped the switch and punched a number. I can call anybody in here anytime you know. Hello, dear. This is Teddy. Can you come in for just a few minutes? Thanks. And one minute later, there came a light tap on the door. Come in, Teddy called, and Temple Bells entered the room. She showed no surprise at seeing Hilton. Hi, Chief, she said. It must be something both big and tough to have you and Teddy both on it. You're so right. It was very big and very tough, but it solved, darling. So, darling, she gasped almost inaudibly, both hands flying to her throat. Her eyes flashed toward the other one. Teddy knows all about it. Accessory before, during, and after the fact. Darling, this time the word was a three. She extended both arms and started forward. Hilton did not bother to maneuver his big husky carcass around the desk. But simply hurled it straight towards her. Temple Bells was a tall, life-strong woman. And all the power of her arms and torso went into the ensuing effort to crack Hilton's ribs. Those ribs, however, were highly capable structural members. And, furthermore, they were protected by thick slabs of hard, hard muscle. And fortunately, he was not trying to fracture her ribs. His pressures were distributed much more widely. He was, according to promise, doing his very best to flatten her whole resilient body out flat. And, as they stood there, locked together in serious ecstasy, Theodora Blake began Oakland and, unashamedly, to cry. It was Temple who first came up for air. She wriggled loose from one of his arms, felt of her hair, and gazed unseeingly into her mirror. That was wonderful, sweetheart, she said then shakily. And I can never thank you enough, Teddy. But we can't do this very often, can we? The addendum fairly begged for contradiction. Not too often, I'm afraid, Hilton said, and Theodora agreed. Well, the man said, somewhat later, I'll leave you two ladies to your knitting or whatever. After a couple of short ones for the road, that is. Not looking like that, Teddy said sharply. Hold still, and we'll clean you up. Then, as both girls went to work, if anybody ever sees you coming out of this office looking like that, she went on darkly, and we'll find out about it. He'll think it's my lipstick smeared all over you, and I'll strangle you to death with my bare hands. And that was supposed to be kiss-proof lipstick, too, Temple said seriously, although her whole face glowed and her eyes danced. You know, I'll never believe another advertisement I read. Oh, I wouldn't go so far as to say that if I were you. Teddy's voice was gravity itself, although she, too, was bubbling over. It probably is kiss-proof. I don't think kissing is quite the word for the performance you just staged. To stand up under such punishment as you gave it, my dear, anything would have to be tattooed in, not just put on. Hey, Hilton protested, you promised to be deaf and blind. I did no such thing. I said could, not would. Why, I wouldn't have missed that for anything. When Hilton left the room, he was apparently in every respect his usual self contained self. However, it was not until the following morning that he so much as thought of the chef of papers lying unread in the drawer of Theodore Blake's desk. End of chapter six. Chapter seven of Masters of Space. This is a lever box recording. All lever box recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit leverbox.org. Recording by R.J. Davis. Masters of Space by Edward Elmer Smith, a.k.a. E.E. Docksmith and Edward Everett Evans. Translated by Robert Conantetti, Stephen Blundell, and the online Distributed Proofreading Team. Chapter seven. Knowing that he had done everything he could to help the most important investigations get underway, Hilton turned his attention to secondary matters. He made arrangements to decondition Java, the number two omen boss, whereupon that worstly became Javi and promptly bumped the omen who had been shadowing cards. Larry and Javi working nights deconditioned all the other omens having any contact with Viewsci personnel. Then they went on to set up a routine for deconditioning all omens on both planets. Assured at last that the omens with Vinceforth work with and really serve human beings instead of insisting upon doing the work for them, Hilton knew that the time had come to let all his Viewsci personnel move into their homes and ground. Everyone, including himself, was fed up to the nozzle with spaceship life. It's jam-packed crowding. It's flat, reprocessed air. It's limited variety of uninteresting food. Conditions were espacially irksome. Since everybody knew that there was available to all, whenever Hilton gave the word, a whole city full of all the room anyone could want. Natural fresh air and, so the omens had told him, an unlimited choice of everything anyone wanted to eat. Nevertheless, the decision was not an easy one to make. Living conditions were admittedly not good on a ship. On the other hand, with almost no chance at all of solitude, the few people who had private officers aboard were not the ones he worried about. There was no danger of sexual trouble. Strictly speaking, he was not responsible for the morals of his force. He knew that he was being terribly old-fashioned. Nevertheless, he could not argue himself out of the conviction that he was morally responsible. Finally, he took the thing up with Sondra, who merely laughed at him. How long have you been worrying about that, Jarv? Ever since I okayed moving aground the first time. That was one reason I was so glad to cancel it then. You were slightly unclear, a little rattled. But which factor? The fun and games? Which is the moral issue? Or the consequences? The consequences, he admitted with a rueful grin. I don't give a whoop how much fun they have, but you know as well as I do just how prudish public sentiment is. And Project Theta Arinus is squarely in the middle of the public eye. You should have checked with me sooner and saved yourself wear and tear. There's no danger at all of consequences except weddings, lots of weddings, and fasts. Weddings and babies wouldn't bother me a bit, nor interfere with the job too much, with the omens of nurses. But why the fasts? If you aren't anticipating any shotgun weddings. Female psychology, she replied with a grin. Aboard ship here, there's no home atmosphere whatever. Nothing but work, work, work. Putting a woman into a house though, especially since houses as the omens have built, and with its servants as they insist on being, and she goes domestic in a really big way. Just sex isn't good enough anymore. She wants a kind of love that goes with a husband and a home. And nine times out of ten, she gets it. With these few shy women, it'll be ten out of ten. You may be right, of course, but it sounds kind of far-fetched to me. Wait and see, Chum, Sondra said with a laugh. Hilton made his announcement and everyone moved to ground the next day. No one, however, had elected to live alone. Almost everyone had chosen to double up. The most noteworthy exception being 12 laboratory girls who had decided to keep on living together. However, they now had a 20-room house instead of a one-room dormitory to live in, and a staff of 20 omen girls to help them do it. Hilton had suggested that Temple and Teddy, whose house was only a hundred yards or so from the Hilton Carnes bungalow, should have suffered and spend the first evening with them. But the girls had knocked that idea flat. Much better, they thought, to let things ride as nearly as possible exactly as they had been aboard the Perseus. A little smooching now and then on the queue, strictly tea. But that's all, darling. That's positively all. Temple had said after a highly satisfactory ten minutes alone with him in her own gorgeously private room, and that was the way it had to be. Hence, it was a stag inspection that Hilton and Carnes made of their new home. It was very long, very wide, and for its size very low. Four of its five rooms were merely adjunct to its tremendous living room. There was a huge fireplace at each end of this room, in each of which a fire of four-foot-long fur cord wood crackled and snapped. There was a great high-fi tri-di with over a hundred tapes, all new. Yes, sirs, Larry and Javi spoke in unison. The players and singers who entertained the masters of old have gone back to work. They will also, of course, appear in person whenever and wherever you wish. Both men looked around the vast room and Carnes set. All a comforts of home and a couple of bucks worth besides. Wall-to-wall carpeting an inch and a half thick. A grand piano, easy chairs and loafers and Davenport. Very fine reproductions of our favorite paintings and statuary. You said it, brother. Hilton was bending over a group in bronze. If I didn't know better, I'd swear this is the original dehaven dance of the nymphs. Carnes had marched up to and was examining, minutely, a two-by-three-foot painting in a heavy gold frame of a gorgeously auburn-haired nude. Reproduction, hell, this is a duplicate. Lawrence's Innocence is worth 20 million walls and it's sealed behind quad-armored glass in prime art. But I'll bet most of Wiggles, the prime curator himself, with all his apparatus, couldn't tell this one from his. I wouldn't take even one Wiggles' worth of that. And this laughing Cavalier and this Toledo are twice as old and twice as fabulously valuable. And there are my own golf clubs. Excuse us, sirs, the old man said. These things were simple because they could be induced in your mind. But the matter of a staff could not. Nor what you would like to eat for supper, and it is growing late. Staff? What the hell has a staff got to do with? How staff, they mean, Carn said. We don't need much of anybody, boys. Somebody to keep the place ship-shaped is all. Or, as a deluxe touch, how about a waitress? One housekeeper and one waitress. That'll be finer. Very well, sirs. There is one other matter. It has troubled us that we have not been able to read in your mind the logical datum that they should, in fact, simulate Dr. Bales and Dr. Blank. Huh? Both men gasped, and then both exploded like one 12-inch length of PrimaCork. While the Omens could not understand this purely Terran reasoning, they accepted the decision without a dimmering thought. Who, then, are the two it's to simulate? No stipulation, roll your own, Hilton said, and glanced at Carn's. None of these Omen women are really hard on the eyes. Check, anyone who wouldn't call any one of them a slurpy thief needs a new set of optic nerves. If I cash, the Omen said, no delay at all will be necessary, as we can make do with one temporarily. The sorry. No longer sorrow. Who has not been glad since the Tully replaced it is now in your kitchen. It comes. A woman came in and stood quietly in front of the two men. The wafed air carrying from her clear smooth skin, a faint but unmistakable fragrance of Idaho mountain syringa. She was radiantly happy. Her bright, deep green eyes went from man to man. You wish, sirs, to give me your orders verbally? And yes, you may order fresh whole, not canned, hen's eggs. I certainly will, then. I haven't had a fried egg since we left Terra. But, Larry said, you aren't sorry. Oh, but I am, sir. Carn's had been staring her. Eyes popping. Holy Saint Patrick. Talk about simulation, jarv. They made her over into Lawrence's innocence exactly to 20 decibels. You're so right. Hilton's eyes went half a dozen times from the form of flesh to the painting in back. That must have been a terrific job. Oh, no. It was quite simple, really. Sorry, said. Since the brain was not involved, I merely reddened my hair and lengthened it, made my eyes to be green, changed my face a little, pulled myself in a little around here. Her beautifully manicured hand swept the full circle of her waistline, then continued to demonstrate appropriately the rest of her speech. And pushed me out a little up here and tapered my legs a little more, made them a little larger and rounder here at my hips and thighs, and a little smaller toward and at my ankles. Oh, yes. And made my feet and hands a little smaller. That's all. I thought that Dr. Carn's would like me a little better this way. You can broadcast that over the PA system at high noon. Carn's was still staring. That's all, she says. But you didn't have time to. Oh, I did it day before yesterday, as soon as Javi materialized the innocent, and I knew it to be your favorite art. But dammit, we hadn't even thought of having you here then. But I had served. I fully intended to serve one way or another in this your home. But, of course, I had no idea I would ever have such an honor as actually waiting on you at your table. Will you please give me your order, sirs? Besides the eggs? You will see eggs fried in butter, three of them apiece, and sunny side up. Uh-huh, with ham, Hilton said. I'll start with a jumbo shrimp cocktail. Horse radish and ketchup sauce, heavy on the horseradish. Same for me, Carn said, but only half as much horseradish. And for the rest of it, Hilton went on, haste browned potatoes and buttered toast, plenty of extra butter, strong coffee from first to last, whipping cream and sugar on the side for dessert, apple pie, all a mode. You make me drool, chief. Play that for me, please. Innocent all the way. Oh, you are you personally yourself, sir? Remaining me innocent? If you'll set still for it, yes. That is an incredible honor, sir. Simply unbelievable. I thank you. I thank you. Radiating happiness, she dashed away toward the kitchen. When the two men were full of food, they strolled over to a Davenport facing the fire. As they sat down, innocent entered the room, carrying a tall, dewy-met julep on a tray. She was followed by another female figure bearing a bottle of a vigoronac and the aphorotendensis, which ours do. And at the first full side of that figure, Hilton stopped breathing for 15 seconds. Her hair was very thick, immensely black and long, cut squarely off just below the lowest points of her shoulder blades. Heavy brows and long lashes, eyes too, were all intensely vividly black. Her skin was tanned to a deep and glowing almost, but not quite brown. Merchants and dark lady, Hilton gasped. Larry, you, we've, I've got that painting here. Oh yes, sir. The newcomer spoke before Larry could. At the other end, you're part of the room. You will look now, sir, please. Her voice was low, rich, and as smooth as cream. Putting her tray down carefully on the end table, she led him toward the other fireplace, past the piano, past the dry-dye pit, past a towering grill work holding art treasures by the score. Over to the left against the wall, there was a big business-like desk. On the wall over the desk hung the painting, a copy of which had been in Hilton's room for over eight years. He stared at it for at least a minute. He glanced around, at the other priceless duplicates so prodigially present at his own guns arrayed above the mantle and on each side of the fireplace. Then, without a word, he started back to join cars. She walked springily beside him. What's your name, Miss? He asked finally. I haven't earned any as yet, sir. My number is never mind that. Your name is Dark Lady. Oh, thank you, sir. That is truly wonderful. And Dark Lady set cross-legged on the rug at Hilton's feet, envising herself with the aesthetic rights of old Avignan. Hilton took a deep inhalation and a small sip, then stared at Carnes. Carnes, over the rim of his glass, stared back. I can see where this would be habit-forming, Hilton said, and very deadly, extremely deadly. Every woose granted, surrounded by all this, Carnes swept his arm through three-quarters of a circle, weighted on hand and foot by powerful men and by the materializations of the dreams of the greatest, finest artists who ever lived. Fatal. I don't know. My solid hope is that we never have to find out. And when you add in Innocent and Dark Lady, they look to be about 17, but the thoughts that they're older than the hills of Rome and powered by everlasting atomic engines, he broke off suddenly and blushed. Excuse me, please, girls. I know better than to talk about people that way. Right in front of them, I really do. Do you really think we're people? Innocent and Dark Lady squealed as one. That set Hilton back onto his heels. I don't know. I've wondered. Are you? Both girls silent looked at Larry. We don't know either, Larry said. At first, of course, there were crude, non-thinking machines. But when the guide attained his present status, the masters themselves could not agree. They divided about half and half on the point. They never did settle it any closer than that. I certainly won't try to then, but from my money, you are people, Hilton said, and Carnes agreed. That, of course, touched off a near riot of joy, after which the two men made an inch by inch study of their tremendous living room. Then, long after bedtime, Larry and Dark Lady escorted Hilton to his bedroom. Do you mind, sir, if we sleep on the floor at the sides of your bed? Larry asked. Or must we go out into the hall? Sleep? I didn't know you could sleep. It is not essential. However, when round-the-clock work is not necessary, and we have opportunity to sleep near a human being, we derive a great deal of pleasure and satisfaction from it. You see, sir, we also serve during sleep. Okay, I'll try anything once. Sleep wherever you please. Hilton began to peel. But before he had his shirt off, both Larry and Dark Lady were stretched out flat, sound asleep, one almost under each edge of his bed. He slid in between the sheets. It was the most comfortable bed he had ever slept in, and went to sleep as though sand-backed. He had time to wonder foggily whether the omens were, in fact, helping him go to sleep. And then he was asleep. A month passed. Eight couples had married, the Navy Chaplain officiating, in the Perseus, of course, since the warship was always and everywhere an integral part of Terra. Sandra had dropped in one evening to see Hilton about a bit of business. She was now setting long dancers' legs outstretched toward the fire, with a cigarette in her left hand, and a tall, cold drink on a coaster at her right. This is a wonderful room, Jarvis. It'll be perfect if it weren't quite so, so many. What do you expect of Bachelors Hall? A boudoir? Don't tell me you're going domestic, Sandy, just because you've got a house. Not just that, no. But of course, it helped it along. Alex is a mighty good man, one of the finest I have ever known. She eyed him for a moment in silence. Jarvis Hilton. You are one of the keenest, most intelligent men who ever lived. And yet, she broke off and studied him for a good half-minute. Say, if I let my hair clear down, will you? Scouts' oath. That, and yet, requires a luciditation at any cost. I know, but first, yes, yes, Alex. I never would have believed that any man every form could hit me so hard. Soon, I don't want to be the first, but I won't be anywhere near the last. But tell me, you were really in love with Temple, weren't you, when I asked you? Yes. Huh, you are letting your hair down. That makes me feel better. Huh, why should it? It elucidates the, and yet, no end. You were insulated from all other female charms by ye brazen bells. You see, most of us assistants made a kind of game out of seeing which of us could make you break the executive's code. And none of us made it. Teddy and Temple said you didn't know what was going on. Bev and I said nobody as smart as you are could possibly be that stupid. You aren't the type to leak or name names. Oh, I see. You are merely reporting a conversation. The game had interested, but non-participating observers. Temple and Teddy, at least. At least, she agreed. But damn it, you aren't stupid. There isn't a stupid bone in your head. So it must be love. And if so, what about marriage? Why don't you and Temple make it a double with Alex and me? That's the most caudgant thought you ever had. But setting the date is a brides' business. He glance that he's on when we're brought. It's early yet. Let's skip over. I wouldn't mind seeing her a minute or two. My statement ringeth with truth, friend. Bill's there with Teddy. I imagine so. So we'll talk to them about making it. A triple. Oh, nice. Let's go. They left the house and her hand tucked under his elbow walked up the street. Next morning, on her way to the Hall of Records, Sandra stopped off as usual at the office. The omens were all standing motionless. Hilton was leaning far back in his chair, feet on desk, hands clasped behind head, eyes closed. Knowing what that meant, she turned and started back out on tiptoe. However, he had heard her. Can you spare a couple of minutes to thank at me, Sandy? Minister Howard's chief totally placed a chair for her as she sat down, facing him across his desk. Thanks, Cal. This time it's a stretch. Sautel's been having nightmares, you know, ever since we emerged, about being attacked, and I've been poo-pooing the idea. But now it's a statistic that the soup is getting thicker, and I can't figure out why. Why in all behelds a space should a stasis that has lasted for over a quarter of a million years be broken at this exact time? The only possible explanation is that we caused the break. And anyway, I look at that concept, it's plain idiocy. Both were silent for minutes, and then it was demonstrated again that Terror's advisory board had done better than it knew in choosing sounder comings to be Jarvis Hilton's working mate. We did cause it, Jarv, she said finally. They knew we were coming, even before we got to few minutes. They knew we were human, and tried to wipe out the omens before we got there. Primitive warfare, you know. They couldn't have known, he started. Strep detectors are no better than omens, and you know what Sam Bryant had to say about them. I know, Sondra Grant appreciatively. It's becoming a classic, but he couldn't have been any other way. Besides, I know they did. He stared at her helplessly, then swung on Larry. Does that make sense to you? Yes, sir. The stretch could pay your unbearer as well as the old masters could. And they undoubtedly still can and do. Okay, it does make sense then. He absented himself and thought. Then came to life with a snap. Okay. The next thing on the agenda is a Christ-priority try at a pair on Dex team. Tootie, you organized a team to generate satura. Can you do the same for pay on Dex? If we can find the ingredients, yes, sir. I had a hunch, Larry. Please ask Teddy Blake's omen to bring her in here. I'll be running along then, Sondra started to get up. I hope to kiss a green pig you won't. Hilton Snap, you're one of the biggest wheels. Larry, we'll want temple bells and Beverly Bell for a start. Chief, you positively amazed me, Sondra said then. Every time you get one of these attacks of genius or whatever it is, you have me gasping like a fish. Just what can you possibly want a fed bell? Whatever it was that enabled her to hit the target against odds of almost infinity to one. Not just once, but time after time. By definition, intuition. What quality did you use just now in getting me off the hook? Intuition? What makes Teddy Blake such an unerring performer? Intuition again. My hunches, they're intuition too. Intuition. Hell. Labels. Based on utterly absoval, damned, dumb, ignorance of our own basic frames of reference. Do you think those four kinds of intuitions are alike? My 7,000 rolls of apple trees. Of course not. I see what you're getting at. Oh, this'll be fun. The others came in and one by one, to the examine each of the four women and the man. Each felt the probing, questioning failures of her thought, prying into the deepest recesses of his mind. There is not quite enough of each of three components, all of which are usually associated with the male. You, sir, have much of each, but not enough. I know your men quite well, and I think we will need the doctors Kincaid and Carnes and Pointer. But since deep probing is felt, have I formation, sir? Yes. Tell them I said so. Truly scant. Yes, sir. We should have all three. Get them, Larry. Then in the paws that followed. Sandy, remember yelling about too many sweeties on a team? What do you think of this business of all sweeties? All that proved is that nobody can be wrong all the time. She replied, flippantly. The three men arrived and were instructed. Truly said. The great trouble is that each of you must use a portion of your mind that you do not know you have. You, this one. You, that one. Truly probed mercilessly. So, progenitely, that each in turn flinched under brand new and almost unbearable pain. With you, Dr. Hilton, it will be by far the worst. For you must learn to use almost all the portions of both your minds, the conscious and the unconscious. This must be because you are the actual pale indexer. The others merely supply energies in which you yourself are deficient. Are you ready for a terrible shock, sir? Shoot. He thought for a second that he had been shocked, that his brain had blown up. He couldn't stand it. He knew he was going to die. He wished he could die. Anything, anything, whatever, to end this unbearable agony. It ended. Writhing, white and sweating, Hilton opened his eyes. Ouch, he remarked conversationally. What next? You will seize hold of the energies your friends offer. You will bind them to yours and shape the whole into a dimensionless sphere of pure, controlled, durable energy. And, as well as being the binding force, the cohesiveness, you must also be the captain and the pilot and the astrogator and the ultimately complex computer itself. But how can I? Okay, dammit, I will. Of course you will, sir. Remember also that once the joinings are made, I can be of very little more assistance. For my pale index is as nothing compared to that of your fusion of eight. Now, to assemble the energies and join them, you will, altogether, deny the existence of the sum total of reality as you know it. Distance does not exist. Every point in the reach of the universe coincides with every other point, and that common point is a focus of your attention. You can be and actually are anywhere you please, or everywhere at once. Time does not exist. Space does not exist. There is no such thing as opaquecy. Everything is perfectly transparent. Yet every molecule of substance is perceptible in its relationship to every other molecule in the cosmos. Sensors do not exist. Sight, hearing, taste, touch, smell, Sahara, Indovex, all are parts of the one great sense of pale index. I am guiding each of you seven closer. Tighter, there. Seize it, sir. And when you work the stress, you must fix it clearly that time does not exist. You must work in millions of microseconds instead of in minutes, for they have minds of tremendous power. Reality does not exist. Compress it more, sir. Tighter, smaller, rounder. There. Hold it. Reality does not exist. Distance does not exist. All possible points are wonderful. Toothly screams a word and a thought. Goodbye. Good luck. End of Chapter 7. End of Part 1.