There was a on the way to Kandar. It not be said to be traveling in space, of course. If there had been an somewhere, he not have the ships. There would be no of stars; no out of any of the hundreds and thousands of millions of which all the firmament. There would be no drive-radiation which the most of up. The might be at one place to an observer's right—where it was imperceptible—and then it might be at a place to the observer's left—where it was undetectable—and nobody have told the difference.
Actually, each ship of the Mekinese was in overdrive, which meant that each had the space around it so that it was like a of other-space; as if it were out of this and in another. In fact, of course, nothing of the had happened. An the physical of space. The of a in an was different from that of a out of it. The self-induction of a in an was not the same as in normal space. Magnetic and also did not the same laws in space as in extension. The speed of light was different. Inertia was different. In short, a ship drive at many hundreds of times the of light and the laws of Einstein did not apply, his laws to space that men had not with.
But though ships in had to be as in motion, and though their speed had to be as the astronomical, there were such to be that time up. Aside from stars, there were no yet which were less than light-years apart. The time for travel was still to the time needed for surface-travel on a world. So the of Mekin, than the mind imagine, and and in the and and of each ship's field. They had so for days. They would continue to do so for days to come.
When Captain Bors the documents in the Ministry for Diplomatic Affairs, the enemy might have been said to be at one place. When a space-cruiser, assassination, was itself to with no to back, the Mekinese was else. When a cabinet meeting King Humphrey, the was much nearer to Kandar. But days of highly-tedious were still ahead of the war-fleet.
So Bors and Gwenlyn and Morgan got a ground-car and were to Kandar's spaceport. There they the Sylva. It was larger than the space-yachts. There were space-craft which were no larger. But it was a of ship, at that. It had two blisters, and there were for where no landing-grids existed. The of overdrive-coil were massive. The Sylva, in fact, looked more like a service ship than either a or a yacht. It was unarmed, but it had the look of a that go very nearly anywhere.
"You'll the Talents a odd," said Gwenlyn, as they up under the hull's wide bulge. "When they meet new people they like to off. Most of them were well Father a use for them. But they're people if you don't them like freaks. They're not, you know."
Bors had nothing to say. Until he was fifteen he'd on Tralee, which was then a quiet, pacific world, as Kandar had been. As the nephew of a at least as as King Humphrey, he'd been in a very matter-of-fact fashion. The had been that of a comfortable, to facts. He was a great respect for without being to anything else. He'd been to without that all proofs come out of test and apparatus. He was that cannot be proved by evidence, but that with arithmetic. So he was than most to with something like Talents, Incorporated. But it was not easy for him.
The ground-car stopped. An exit-port in the space opened and an extension-stair came down. The three of them it. The lock-door opened and they entered the Sylva.
An woman Bors with warm and eyes. A man no older than Bors, but with hair, at him. A man in a chair a hand in greeting. Everyone to know who he was. There was a woman who might be in her late thirties, a short, man with on his fingers, and a gangling, adolescent. There were still others.
Morgan them with enthusiasm. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said. "I present Captain Bors! He's come to to use your in the of all possible for his world!"
There were nods. There were bows. The man in the chair said confidently, "The ship was where I specified."
"Exactly!" said Morgan, beaming. "Exactly! A piece of work! Which is what I of you!"
He all around. Bors did not to catch the names. This was so-and-so, said Morgan, "our Telepath." Still another, "our ship-arrival Precognizer—he the of the liner, you remember." He came to the man with rings. "Captain Bors, this is our Talent for Predicting Dirty Tricks. You've to thank him for that Mekinese underwater."
Bors the lead him.
"There are many of us," he said, "with to thank you for a most satisfying operation. We that cruiser!"
The man portentously. The on. The was "our Talent for Locating Individuals." The woman: "our Talent for Propaganda."
Bors was confused. He had to himself not to decide that all this was nonsense. Morgan and Gwenlyn took him away from what appeared like a of social for these persons.
They at a smaller compartment. It was a much more personal of place. Morgan his hand.
"Gwenlyn and I live here," he observed. "Our are and you might call this our family room. Gwenlyn the of Talents a wearing. Of course, them is my profession, though I have some plans for retirement. We'll see our Mathematics Talent in a minute or two. He it's that he'll be the most useful of all our Talents at the moment. He will make an entrance."
Gwenlyn sat down. She Bors with amusement.
"I think the Captain's again, Father."
"I'm not unconvinced," said Bors grimly. "I'm desperate. It's not easy either to what's or to that it will continue. And I—well—if the Mekinese arrive, I don't want to miss going with our to meet it."
"You won't miss anything, Captain," said Morgan happily. "Have a cigar. Gwenlyn, do you think I should—"
"Let me," said Gwenlyn. "I know how the Captain feels. I'm an outsider, too. I haven't any talent—fortunately! Sit down, Captain."
Bors seated himself. Morgan offered a cigar. He too and much too pleased to be able to himself. Bors the cigar; at the he it and looked at it respectfully. Such were not easy to come by.
"I think," said Gwenlyn amiably, "that Father himself has a talent, which makes him not too easy to along with. But it has had some good results. I it will have more here. The whole is unbelievable, though, unless you think of some very special facts."
Bors nodded. He again and waited.
"He told you some of it," said Gwenlyn. "About the ship Talent and the dowser. There've always been such people with gifts that nobody's understood, but that are real. Only they've always been freaks. They that they're remarkable—and they are—and they want people to this. But they've had a in society. They've been all function. Take the Mathematical Talent! He can do any of in his head. Any sort! He used to out to work computers, and he always got he did the in his of using the machines. He was always right, and he was proud of his ability. He wanted to use it! But nobody'd let him. He was a until Father him and him."
Bors again, but his wrinkled.
"Talents, Incorporated is an organization, by my father, to make use of people who can do impossible, and unexplainable, but which nevertheless. There are more than Father has gathered, of course. But what good are their gifts to them? No good at all! They're freaks. So Father them together as he them. First, of course, he needed capital. So he used them to make money. Then he to do useful with them, since nobody else did. Now he's them here to help."
Bors said painfully, "They don't all have the same gift."
"No," Gwenlyn.
"And there are limits to their talents?"
"Naturally!"
Morgan in, amused. "Gwenlyn that I have the of and using talents."
"A mild talent, Father," said Gwenlyn. "Not to make you revolting. But—"
A door opened. A man with a small in the doorway.
"I I'm wanted?" he said offhandedly.
Morgan him. His name was Logan. He was the calculator, the mathematical of Talents, Incorporated. Bors his hand. The man sat down. He out a pipe and to it with exactitude. He looked like a of who to be just another commuter. He the part: hair; pipe; casual, shoes.
"I understand," he said negligently, "that you want some calculations made."
"I'm told I do," said Bors, harassedly. "But I don't know what they are."
"Then how can I make them?" asked Logan with eyebrows.
"Naturally," said Morgan, "you'll out the of calculations he needs, that he can't else. That'll be the he needs from you."
"Hm," said Logan. He a smoke-ring, thoughtfully. "Where do you use calculations in space-travel?"
"Everywhere," said Bors. "But we've for it. And they're adequate."
Logan shrugged. "Then what do you need me for?"
"You tell me!" said Bors, nettled. "Certainly we don't need calculations for space-travel. We've no long in mind. We're going to go out and do some when the Mekinese here."
Logan another smoke-ring.
"What calculations do you use in space-fighting?"
"Courses and distances," said Bors. He see no in this, but he on. "Allowing for and in setting our on targets. Allowing for the motion of the targets. Again we have for this. In they're too good! If we send a at a Mekinese ship, they set a computer on it, and it a for a counter-missile which and our when it's a of it."
"Then your doesn't hit," said Logan.
"All too often, it doesn't," Bors.
"Then their don't either."
"If they send a hundred at us, they're out if we send a hundred to them. Unfortunately, if they send more than we can counter, we out."
Bors his going dry. This, of course, was what he'd been to himself. It was the for a total of hope. The history of is the history of attack and defense. In the of in space, there was a stalemate. One in attack always be by another in defense. It was an balance. But it meant that three ships always two, and four ships three. In the space-fight ahead, there would be at least ten Mekinese ships to every one from Kandar. The of Kandar's would not be a into battle, but an into annihilation. "What we need," said Bors desperately, "is a means to for our so they'll hit, and that the enemy can't counter-compute—so that his can't how to in order to ours out."
He was as the left his mouth. This was what was needed, of course. But then he that it couldn't be done.
Logan a smoke-ring.
"Mechanical computers," he said, "have limits. They're designed to a with or no acceleration. But that's all."
Bors frowned. "What else there be?"
"Changing acceleration," said Logan condescendingly. "A computer can't that. But I can."
Bors to frown. One part of his mind him that the that not of with was incorrect. But the of his mind to such a trajectory. He couldn't. In practice, men do not have to the results of as effects.
"I think," said Bors carefully, "that if you can do that—"
Logan a smoke-ring more perfect than any that had gone before.
"I'll some tables," he said modestly. "You can use them on your computer-results. Then if you your to their as they go, the Mekinese can't them."
He his hand with the air of someone assuring a grammar-grade that tables were and be used with confidence. But his themselves on Bors's face. As the Captain the of his statement, the of the Mathematical Talent of Talents, Incorporated with vanity.
"We'll go out in a of cans," said Bors fiercely, "and try this out with warheads!"
Gwenlyn said quickly, "Marvelous! Marvelous, Logan!"
"It's nothing," said Logan modestly.
But it was a very great deal. Bors, to try it out, that Logan hadn't the out of a of a to a problem in ballistics, but he in terms of mathematical processes. He didn't think of a new operation, but a new of computation. And he in the that he had off his brilliance.
In the ground-car on the way to the fleet, Bors said to Gwenlyn, "I'm not the right man to be the with you people. But this might make us a for Mekin! With luck, we may them ship for ship! They won't miss the ships they lose, but it'll be a of to us!"
"You to be killed," Gwenlyn said flatly.
"My uncle," Bors, "considers that he should have killed when Mekin took over Tralee. It would have set a good example. Since we didn't do it for Tralee, we'll do it for Kandar. The king's going along too. After all, that's one of the kings are for."
"To killed?"
"When necessary," Bors told her. "Kandar shouldn't though there will be at least ten Mekinese to one Kandarian."
She at him, very oddly.
"I suspect," she said, "that not on the will be killed. I'm sure of it. In fact, as my father would say, that's Talents, Incorporated information!"
Bors worriedly.
The of Mekin in overdrive, for Kandar. Each second it a equal to the of a system, out to its planet. A that would where a Cepheid, had it been possible to see, would have at its brilliance, and would end where the light from that same star almost to extinction. Of no such be from any ship in overdrive. Each one of the many, many war-machines was sealed in its own of overdrive-stressed space. Even in the transports that officials and and police to set up a government on Kandar, there was not the hint of anything that the ship. But, what might be the position of the fleet, with swiftness. It light-hours breaths. Light-days sentences. Light-months and light-years....
But it would not arrive on Kandar for a long while yet. Not for three whole days.
