With each second the noise louder, their way. The as the car around the spire, them out. A large carrier, big as a truck, it stopped them in a cloud of its own and the driver the door open.
"Get in here—and fast!" the man shouted. "You're in all the heat." He the engine, to in the gears, and looked at them irritatedly.
Ignoring the driver's instructions, Brion Lea on the seat he the door shut. The car instantly, a blast of air from the air-cooling vents. It wasn't cold in the vehicle—but the temperature was at least than the air. Brion Lea with all their to prevent any to her system. The driver, over the wheel and with an speed, hadn't said a word to them since they had entered.
Brion looked up as another man from the engine in the of the car. He was thin, harried-looking. And he was pointing a gun.
"Who are you?" he said, without a of in his voice.
It was a reception, but Brion was to that Dis was a planet. The other man at his lip while Brion sat, and unmoving. He didn't want to him into the trigger, and he his voice low as he answered.
"My name is Brandd. We from space two nights ago and have been walking in the since. Now don't and shoot the gun when I tell you this—but Vion and Ihjel are dead."[Pg 62]
The man with the gun gasped, his widened. The driver a single look over his shoulder, then to the wheel. Brion's had its mark. If these men weren't from the Cultural Relationships Foundation they at least a about it. It safe to assume they were C.R.F. men.
"When they were the girl and I escaped. We were trying to the city and you. You are from the Foundation, aren't you?"
"Yes. Of course," the man said, the gun. He glassy-eyed into space for a moment, his teeth against his lip. Startled at his own inattention, he the gun again.
"If you're Brandd, there's something I want to know." Rummaging in his pocket with his free hand, he out a yellow message form. He moved his as he the message. "Now answer me—if you can—what are the last three events in the ..." He took a quick look at the paper again. "... in the Twenties?"
"Chess finals, position, and playoffs. Why?"
The man and the pistol into its holder, satisfied. "I'm Faussel," he said, and the message at Brion. "This is Ihjel's last will and testament, to us by the Nyjord control. He he was going to die and he sure was right. Passed on his job to you. You're in charge. I was Mervv's second-in-command, until he was poisoned. I was to work for Ihjel, and now I I'm yours. At least until tomorrow, when we'll have packed and off this planet."
"What do you mean, tomorrow?" Brion asked. "It's three days to and we still have a job to do."
Faussel had into one of the seats and he to his again, the seat to keep his in the car.
"Three days, three weeks, three minutes—what it make?" His voice rose with each word, and he had to make a to master himself he go on. "Look. You[Pg 63] don't know anything about this. You just and that's your luck. My luck is being to this death and the and the do. And trying to be to them when they are killing my friends, and those Nyjord up there with their hands on the triggers. One of those is going to start about home and about the here and he's going to press that button, or no deadline."
"Sit down, Faussel. Sit and take a rest." There was in Brion's voice—but also the of an order. Faussel for a second longer, then collapsed. He sat with his against the window, closed. A visibly in his temple and his worked. He had been under too much for too long a time.
This was the that in the air at the C.R.F. when they arrived. Despair and defeat. The doctor was the only one who didn't this mood as he Lea off to the with efficiency. He had to keep his mind occupied. With the others the of was unmistakable. From the they had through the door, Brion had in this of defeat. It was and hard to ignore.
As soon as he had he with Faussel into what was to have been Ihjel's office. Through the he see the staff packing the records, them for shipment. Faussel less now that he was no longer in command. Brion rejected any idea he had of the man know that he himself was only a in the foundation. He was going to need all the authority he muster, since they would him for what he was going to do.
"Better take notes of this, Faussel, and have it typed. I'll it." The printed word always more weight. "All for are to be stopped at once. Records are to be returned to the files. We are going to here just as long as we[Pg 64] have from the Nyjorders. If this operation is we will all together when the time expires. We will take personal we can by hand; else here. Perhaps you don't we are here to save a planet—not file full of papers."
Out of the of his he saw Faussel with anger. "As soon as that is it back. And all the reports as to what has been on this project. That will be all for now."
Faussel out, and a minute later Brion saw the shocked, angry looks from the in the office. Turning his to them, he opened the in the desk, one after another. The top was empty, for a sealed envelope. It was to Winner Ihjel.
Brion looked at it thoughtfully, then it open. The was handwritten.
Ihjel:
I've had the official word that you are on the way to me and I am to admit I only an satisfaction. You've had the on these and can along with the odd types. I have been in for the last twenty years, and the only I was on Nyjord was of the and facilities. I'm the type, not the office type; no one has that.
You're going to have trouble with the staff, so you had that they are all volunteers. Half are people from my staff. The others a mixed of was close to be in on this crash assignment. It so fast we saw it coming. And I'm we've done little or nothing to stop it. We can't to the here, not in the slightest. It's frightening! They don't fit! I've done Poisson Distributions on a dozen different and none of them can be equated. The Pareto Extrapolations don't work. Our men can't talk to the and two have been killed trying. The class is and the just keep their mouths and walk away.
I'm going to take a and try to talk to Lig-magte,[Pg 65] I can make him see sense. I if it will work and there is a he will try with me. The here are very to violence. If I all right you won't see this note. Otherwise—good-by, Ihjel. Try to do a job than I did.
Aston Mervv
P.S. There is a problem with the staff. They are to be saviors, but without they all the Disans. I'm I do too.
Brion off the points in the letter. He had to some way of what Pareto Extrapolations were—without his own of knowledge. The staff would in five minutes if they how new he was at the job. Poisson Distribution more sense. It was used in as the of an event that would be true at all times. Such as the numbers of that would be off by a of a period. From the way Mervv used it in his it looked as if the people had in and groups. At least on other planets. None of the to be on Dis. Ihjel had that, and Mervv's death had proven it. Brion who this Lig-magte was who appeared to have killed Mervv.
A through Brion's concentration, and he that Faussel had been in of his for some minutes. Brion looked up and from his face.
"Your air to be out of order," Faussel said. "Should I have the look at it?"
"There's nothing with the machine; I'm just to Dis's climate. What else do you want, Faussel?"
The had a look that he didn't succeed in hiding. He also had trouble the truth. He the small of file on the desk.
"These are the reports to date, we have[Pg 66] about the Disans. It's not very much; but the anti-social on this world it is the best we do." A him, and his slyly. "It can't be helped, but some of the staff have been out loud about that native that us. How did you him to help you? We've to with these people, and as soon as you land you have one for you. You can't stop people from about it, you being a and a stranger. After all, it looks a little odd—" He off in as Brion looked at him in cold fury.
"I can't stop people from about it—but I can stop them from talking. Our job is to the Disans and stop this war. I have done more in one day than you all have done since you arrived. I have this I am at my work than the of you. That is all the any of you are going to receive. You are dismissed."
White with anger, Faussel on his and out—to spread the word about what a slave-driver the new was. They would then all him passionately, which was just the way he wanted it. He couldn't as the he was. And a new emotion, other than and defeat, might them into a little action. They couldn't do any than they had been doing.
It was a amount of responsibility. For the time since setting on this Brion had time to stop and think. He was taking an upon himself. He nothing about this world, about the powers in the conflict. Here he sat to be in of an organization he had about only a earlier. It was a situation. Should he out from under?
There was just one possible answer, and that was no. Until he someone else who do better, he to be the one best for the job. And Ihjel's opinion had to count for something. Brion had the of the man's that Brion was[Pg 67] the only one who might possibly succeed in this difficult spot.
Let it go at that. If he had any it would be best to put them him. Aside from else, there was a of involved. Ihjel had been an Anvharian and a Winner. Maybe it was a to in this big universe—Anvhar was away from here—but is very to a man who must alone. He had a to Ihjel, and he was going to pay it off.
Once the had been made, he easier. There was an on the in of him and he with a thumb on the Faussel.
"Yes?" Even through the the man's voice was cold with ill-concealed hatred.
"Who is Lig-magte? And did the return from him?"
"Magte is a title that means or lord. Lig-magte is the local overlord. He has an of a just the city. He to be the for the group of that are pushing this war. As to your second question, I have to answer yes and no. We Director Mervv's the door next with all the skin gone. We who it was the doctor the in his mouth. Do you understand?"
All of had vanished, and Faussel almost the last words. They were all close to up, if he was any example. Brion in quickly.
"That will be all, Faussel. Just word to the doctor that I would like to see him as soon as I can." He the and opened the of the folders. By the time the doctor called he had the reports and was reading the ones in detail. Putting on his warm coat, he through the office. The still on their in silence.
Doctor Stine had a pink and that[Pg 68] rose above a thick black beard. Brion had liked him at once. Anyone with of mind to keep a in this was a after what he had met so far.
"How's the new patient, Doctor?"
Stine his with answering. "Diagnosis: heat-syncope. Prognosis: complete recovery. Condition fair, the and sunburn. I've the burns, and a is taking of the other. She just missed going into heat-shock. I have her under now."
"I'd like to have her up and helping me tomorrow morning. Could she do this—with or drugs?"
"She could—but I don't like it. There might be factors, long-standing debilitation. It's a chance."
"A we will have to take. In less than seventy hours this is for destruction. In attempting to that I'm expendable, as is else here. Agreed?"
The doctor in his and looked Brion's up and down. "Agreed," he said, almost happily. "It is a to see something black around here. I'll go along with you."
"Well, you can help me right now. I the and that out of the twenty-eight people here there isn't a physical scientist of any kind—other than yourself."
"A of button-pushers and theoreticians. Not a for work, the whole of them!" The doctor the on a waste and into it with feeling.
"Then I'm going to on you for some answers," Brion said. "This is an un-standard operation, and the just don't to make sense. Even Poisson Distributions and Pareto Extrapolations don't apply here." Stine agreement and Brion a bit. He had just himself of his entire knowledge of societics,[Pg 69] and it had authentic. "The more I look at it the more I that this is a physical problem, something to do with the and the Disans have to this environment. Could this tie up in any way with their the bombs?"
"Could it? Could it?" Dr. Stine the on his legs, his his back. "You are well right it could. Someone is at last and not just numbers into a machine and and his while waiting for the screen to light up with the answers. Do you know how Disans exist?" Brion his head. "The here think it but I call it fascinating. They have to join a relationship with the life on this planet. Even a relationship. You must that will do anything to survive. Castaways at sea will drink their own in their need for water. Disgust at this is only the of the who have thirst or hunger. Well, here on Dis you have a of castaways."
Stine opened the door of the pharmacy. "This talk of thirst makes me dry." With he into a beaker, it with water and it with some from a bottle. He two and Brion one. It didn't taste at all.
"What do you by parasitic, Doctor? Aren't we all of the life forms? Meat animals, vegetables and such?"
"No, no—you miss the point! I speak of in the exact meaning of the word. You must that to a there is no parasitism, symbiosis, mutualism, biontergasy, commensalism—"
"Stop, stop!" Brion said. "Those are just meaningless to me. If that is what makes this I'm to see why the of the staff has that feeling."
"It is just a of of the same thing.[Pg 70] Look. You have a of in the here, very much like an ordinary crab. It has large in which it anemones, sea animals with no power of motion. The these around to food, and eats the pieces they that are too big for them. This is biontergasy, two and together, yet each of alone.
"Now, this same has a under its shell, a of a that has all powers of movement. A true that takes food from its host's and nothing in return. Inside this snail's there is a that off the snail's food. Yet this little is not a parasite, as you might think at first, but a symbiote. It takes food from the snail, but at the same time it a chemical that the snail's of the food. Do you the picture? All these life in a interdependence."
Brion in concentration, at the drink. "It's making some of now. Symbiosis, and all the are just of of the same of together. And there is a and some of these that make the exact relationship hard to define."
"Precisely. Existence is so difficult on this world that the have almost died out. There are still a left, off the others. It was the and life that out in the for survival. I say life with intent. The here are mostly a mixture of plant and animal, like the you have elsewhere. The Disans have a they call a "vaede" that they use for water when traveling. It has powers of motion from its animal part, yet and stores water like a plant. When the Disans drink from it the thing their blood for food elements."
"I know," Brion said wryly. "I from one. You can see my scars. I'm to how[Pg 71] the Disans fit into the physical pattern of their world, and I it must have all of on them. Do you think this has any on their social organization?"
"An one. But maybe I'm making too many now. Perhaps your can tell you better; after all, this is their field."
Brion had the reports on the social and not one word of them sense. They were a solid of unknown and charts. "Please continue, Doctor," he insisted. "The reports are valueless so far. There are missing. You are the only one I have talked to so who can give me any reports or answers."
"All right then—be it on your own head. The way I see it, you've got no here at all, just a of individualists. Each one for himself, from the other life of the planet. If they have a society, it is the of the life—instead of other beings. Perhaps that's why your don't make sense. They are set up for the societies. In their relations with each other, these people are different."
"What about the magter, the upper-class who and are all this trouble?"
"I have no explanation," Dr. Stine admitted. "My water and logical up to this point. But the are the exception, and I have no idea why. They are different from the of the Disans. Argumentative, blood-thirsty, looking for of peace. They aren't rulers, not in the sense. They power nobody else wants it. They to they are the only ones with a of property. Maybe I'm going out on a limb. But if you can out why they are so different you may be onto the to our difficulties."
For the time since his Brion to a touch of enthusiasm. Plus a of the remote[Pg 72] possibility that there might be a to the problem. He his and up.
"I you'll wake your patient early, Doctor. You might be as in talking to her as I am. If what you told me is true, she well be our key to the answer. She is Professor Lea Morees, and she is just out from Earth with in and anthropology, and has a with facts."
"Wonderful!" Stine said. "I shall take of the head, not only it is so but of its knowledge. Though we on the of I have a of optimism—for the time since I on this planet."[Pg 73]
