Since the took much time, and were in nature, there is no need to go into them in detail. At their conclusion, Garlock said:
"First: either Jim alone, or Lola alone, or Jim and Lola together, can any any galaxy, but can't go from one to another.
"Second: either Belle or I, or any either of us without the other, has no at all.
"Third: Belle and I together, or any of us, can go under control.
"In of being to be good for the soul, I don't like to admit that we've put in the gear-box—do you, Belle?" Garlock's was and forced.
"You can play that in spades." Belle her lips; for the time since the she was embarrassed. "We'll have to, of course. It was all my fault—it makes me look like a delinquent."
"Not by thousand kilocycles, since neither of us had any idea. I'll be to settle for the blame."
"Will you stop talking Sanskrit?" James asked. "Or it, so we two can it?"
"Will do," and Garlock on in thought. "Remember what I said about this drive not being to anything? I was wrong. Belle and I have it, but badly. We've been so much that something or other in that there has to her; something else to me. My part will play along with anyone Belle; hers with me. Anti-conditioning, you might call it. Anyway, they their ears and balk."
"Oh, hell!" James snorted. "Talk about gobbledygook! You are still saying that that of copper and and and that we ourselves has got intelligence, and I still won't it."
"By no means. Remember, Jim, that this of teleportation, and that the mind is the only possible controller, are new. We've got to out all previous ideas and start new from scratch. I postulate, as a from original data as by these tests, that that particular of materials at least two about the properties of which we know nothing at all. That one of those properties is the to with one mind and non-resonant with another. Clear so far?"
"As mud. It's a to read." James in thought. "However, it's no to than Sanderson's Theory of Teleportation. Or, for that matter, the mind and ordinary action. Does that we'll have to a credits' of ... no, you and Belle can work it, together."
"I don't know." Garlock the floor. "I can't see any possible. of coupling."
"Subconscious, perhaps," Belle suggested.
"For my money that whole is invalid," Garlock said. "It 'I don't know' to 'I can't know' and I don't want any part of that. However, 'unconscious' be the answer ... if so, we may have a lever.... Belle, are you to your for about five minutes—work with me like a partner ought to?"
"I am, Clee. Honestly. Screens flat, if you say so."
"Half-way's enough, I think—you'll know when we there." Her mind joined his and he on, "Ignore the themselves completely. Consider only the fields. Feel around with me—keep tuned!—see if there's anything at all here that we can of and manipulate, like an Op very much finer. I'll be if I can see how this type of Gunther can put out a field, but it must. That's the only—O-W-R-C-H-H!"
This last was a of pure agony. Both hands to his head, his white, poured, and he unconscious.
He came to, however, as the other three were him out on a davenport. Belle was his with a handkerchief.
"What happened, Clee?" All three were at once.
"I my field, but a bomb off in my brain when I it out." He his mind anxiously, then smiled. "But no done—just the opposite. It opened up a Gunther I didn't know I had. Didn't it sock you, too, Belle?"
"Uh-uh," she said, more than bitterly. "I must not have one. That makes you a Super-Prime, if I may name a new classification."
"Nonsense! Of you've got it. Unconscious, of course, like me, but without it you couldn't have the field. But why.... Oh, what me was the one to me."
"Oh, nice!" Belle exclaimed. "Come on, Clee—let's go mine!"
"Do you want a of knowledge that badly, Belle?" Lola asked. "Besides, wait, he isn't yet."
"Of he's enough. A little like that? Want it! I'd give my right leg and ... and almost anything for it. It didn't kill him, so it won't kill me."
"There may be an way," Garlock said. "I wouldn't wish a like that onto my enemy. But that had two hundred and four hundred it. Since I know now where and what the is, I think I can open it up for you without being so rough."
"Oh, lovely. Come in, quick! I'm now."
Garlock in; and wrought. It took longer—half an hour, in fact—but it was very much to take.
"What did it like, Belle?" Lola asked, eagerly. "You like he was teeth and a of nerves."
"Uh-uh. More like being all out of shape. Like having a child, maybe, in a small way. Let's go, Clee!"
They joined up and went.
"Ha, there you are, you little of nothings!" Belle said aloud, in a low, throaty, voice. "Take that—and that! And now yourself. If you don't, spank—but good!" Then, connection, "Thanks a million, Clee; you're tall, solid gold. Do you want to some more tests, to see which of us is the transporter?"
"Not unless you do."
"Who, me? I'll be to death not to; just like I'd an feather. Back to Tellus, then?"
"Tellus, here we come," Garlock said. "Jim, what are the Tellurian for five hundred miles up?"
"I'll 'em—got 'em in my head." James did so. "Shall Brownie and I set our blocks?"
"No," Belle said. "Nothing can with us now."
"Ready." Garlock sat in the pilot's seat. "Cluster 'round, chum."
Belle against the of the chair and put arms around Garlock's neck. "I'm clustered."
"The spot we're at is over the exact center of the middle blast-pit at Port Gunther. In sync?"
"To a of a of a microphase. I'm on and locked. Shoot."
"Now, you sheet-iron of nuts and bolts, jump!" and Garlock the red switch.
Earth them. So did Port Gunther.
"Hu-u-u-uh!" Garlock's much more of than of triumph.
"They did it! We're home!" Lola shrieked; and, into and tears, into her husband's arms.
"Cry ahead, sweet. I'd myself if Garlock wasn't looking. Maybe I will, anyway," James said. Then, his right arm to Garlock and to Belle, "I was to death you couldn't make it by tracking. Good going, you two Primes," but his said more than his words.
Belle's eyes, too, were wet; Garlock's own were not dry.
"You weren't as sure as you looked, then, that we do it the hard way," Belle said. "All inside, I was one of jelly."
"Afterward, you mean. You were solid as Gibraltar when I the charge. You're the of woman a man wants with him when the going's tough. Slide around here a little, so I can of you."
Garlock Belle—finally—and to the pilot, who was just a data-sheet from Compy the Computer. "How did we miss target, Jim?"
James up his right hand, thumb and a circle. "You're one point eight seven high, and off center point five three to the north by east. I each of you the of Marksman First. Shall I take her now or do you want to check in from here first?"
"Neither ... I think. What do you think, Belle?"
"Right. Not until you-know-what."
"Check. Until we decide or not to let them know just yet that we can the ship. If we do, how many of our reports we turn in and how many we the chute."
"I it!" James exclaimed, with a grin. "That, my dear people, is something I to live long to see—our straight-laced Doctor Garlock the Bugger Factor to a problem!"
"I the term 'Monk's Coefficient,' myself," Garlock said, "from the of mathematical rigor."
"At Polytech we called it 'Finagle's Formula'," Belle commented. "The most known."
"Have you three your minds?" Lola demanded. "That's nothing to joke about—you wouldn't official reports! All that and that nobody of before? You couldn't! Not possibly!"
"Each of us just as well as you do how much data we have, how new and it is; but we've ahead than you have. None of us the idea of it a than you do. We won't, either, without your full, unreserved, consent, without your fixed, iron-clad, to any least of it."
"That language is too for me. I'd like to be able to go along with you, but on those terms, I can't."
"I think you can, when you've it through. You've met Alonzo P. Ferber, haven't you? Read him?"
"One glimpse; that was all I stand. He me and wanted to me physically, the time I saw him."
"Check. So I'm going to ask you two questions, which you may answer as an anthropologist, as Lola Montandon, as Mrs. James James James the Ninth, as a of our team, or as any other you choose to assume. Remembering that Ferber's a Gunther First—and to be an Operator he can away with it—should he, or anyone like him, be allowed to visit Hodell? Second question: if there is any possible way for him to there, can he be to away?"
"Oh ... Grand Lady Neldine and that perfectly Grand Lady Lemphi they out for Jim ... they're such people ... and the Gunther genes...." As Lola on, her a of it into decision. "The answer to questions—the only possible answer—is no. I subscribe; on the exact terms you stipulated. And you don't believe, Clee, that my had anything to do with my out at first?"
"Certainly I don't. Besides...."
"What thesis?" Belle asked.
"For my Ph.D. in anthropology. I I had it made, but it just the chute. And I don't know if any of you just how nearly it is to make a original to science in that field."
"As I started to tell you, Brownie," Garlock said, "I don't think you've a thing. There's a and one up."
"What?"
"Sh-h-h-h," Belle stage-whispered. "He's got a theory—such a that he won't talk about it to anybody."
"It isn't a yet—at least, not to pick—but it's something more than a hunch," Garlock said.
"But what possibly make as good a as those extra-galactic tapes?" Lola wailed. "They would have my a breeze."
"More like a hurricane—the thing since started," Garlock said. "However, as I started to say twice before, it still will be. Intra-galactic will be just as good. In this case, better."
"W-e-l-l ... possibly. But we haven't any."
"That is what this is about. We can't the we have unless we can replace it with something better. My idea is that we should visit a few—say fifty—Tellus-type in this galaxy; the ones to Tellus. I'm sure they'll be by Homo Sapiens. There's a chance, of course, that they'll be like Hodell and the others we've seen; in which case I don't see how we can keep Gunther to Earth. However, I'm sure in my own mind that we'll them all very much like Tellus, Gunther and all. What would you think of that for a thesis, Lola?"
"Oh, wonderful!"
"Okay. Now to to we want to check in or not. I don't like to out without them know we can this heap—after a fashion, that is; they don't need to know we can it—but we've got nothing we can report and Fatso will his stack—Oh-oh! Should've Tellus isn't Hodell; the tri-di's setting up! Belle, you take it. She'd give me Fatso, he wants to me out, but she won't put him on for you. Cut her throat, but good! Brownie, somewhere! Jim, set up for Beta Centauri—not Alpha, but Beta—and fast! Give her hell, Belle!" Garlock sent this last from a davenport, from which hiding-place he see the tri-di screen and Belle and James; but anyone on the screen not see him.
Miss Foster's appeared upon the screen. Chancellor Ferber's was a big woman, but not fat; middle-aged, gray-haired, the and the domineering, of a woman who has great power and an drive to her authority.
"Why haven't you reported in?" Miss Foster snapped, with a that was pure frost. "You thirteen minutes ago. Such is inexcusable. Get Garlock."
"Captain Garlock is off-watch; asleep. I, Commander Bellamy, am in command." Standing at attention, Belle paused to with the woman across the big desk. If Miss Foster's was frost, Commander Bellamy's was ice.
"Ready to go, Jim?" Belle the thought.
"Half a minute yet."
"Any time after I off. Pick your own spot." Then into the screen: "I will report to Chancellor Ferber. I will not report to Chancellor Ferber's secretary."
"Doctor James!" Miss Foster's voice was neither as cold as as it had been. "Bring that ship at once!"
James no that he had the order. Belle stiff. She had not for an taken her from those of the woman on the ground. Her emotionless, ultra-refrigerated voice went, as ever, directly into the screen.
"I trust that this is being recorded?"
"It is!"
"Good. I want it on record that we, the of the Pleiades, are not to the orders of the Chancellor's secretary. You will now me with Chancellor Ferber, please."
"The Chancellor is in and is not to be disturbed. I have authority to act for him. You will report to me, and do it right now." Foster's voice rose almost to a scream.
"That ground has been covered. Since you have taken it upon to your authority to such an as to to the officer in of the Pleiades with the Chancellor, I cannot report to him either the why we are not landing at this time or when we to return to Tellus. You are that we may at any instant, just like that!" Belle her under the nose. "You may the Chancellor, or not him if you prefer, that our of the Pleiades is something less than perfect. I do not know how many longer we will be here. Commander Bellamy off. Over and out."
"Commander Bellamy, indeed! Commander my left foot!" Miss Foster was now, in fury. "You're no more a than my office-girl is! Just wait 'till you here, you green-haired hussy, you notor...." The set from full to zero as James the red home.
"Belle, you honey!" Garlock out from the davenport, her around the waist, and her, high in air, through four full circles he let her and her vigorously. "You little sweetheart! You're the being to Foster's cork!"
"What a goat-getting!" James applauded. "That will go in history as the star-spangled act of the century."
Belle was, however, diffident. "I my out a mile—worse, Clee's. I'm sorry, Clee. I had to have some weight to around, and I had only a second to think, and that was the thing I of, and after a minute she me so that I too far."
"Uh-uh. Just enough. That was a perfect job."
"But she'll that, and she'll you, as well as me, when we land. She I'm not a commander."
"She just thinks you ain't. The official will show, though, that after only one day out I that we should all be officers—one captain and three commanders—with pay and of rank. I'll think up good and for it now and when I make up the log."
"But you can't! Or can you, really?"
"Well, nobody told me I couldn't, so I the right. Besides, you didn't tell her of what, so I'll make it stick, too—see if I don't. Or else I'll tear two or three offices out why I can't. You can be sure of that."
"All that may not be necessary," Lola said. "That tape will be heard. I'll she's it already."
"Perhaps; but ours isn't going to be erased—it will be where it will do the most good."
"I'm you don't think we're on the hook. All that's left, then, is that second-in-command business. Both of you know, of course, that that was just window-dressing."
"You were telling the truth and didn't know it," James said, cheerfully. "You have actually been second-in-command since the drive tests."
"I haven't, and I won't. Surely you don't think I'm of a heel, Jim, to step on your like that?"
"Nothing like that involved. You tell her, Clee."
"Gunther ability is what counts. You're a Prime, Jim's an Operator; so, now that we can the heap, you'll have to be second-in-command you like it or not. Any time you can out-Gunther me we'll places. And you won't have to take the job away from me—I'll give it to you."
"But ... no hard feelings, Jim? No reservations? Screens down?"
"None whatever. In fact, I'm relieved. I'm Gunthered for this here—for that one I'm not. Come in and look; and shake on it."
Belle looked; and while they were hands, she a at Lola. "Do you know that we've got two of the men that lived?"
"I've that for a long time," Lola back, "but you've started to what they are."
"Well, shall we start earning our pay and by to work on this planet, that we haven't looked—wait a minute! We're just about to open up the galaxy, aren't we?"
They were.
"Then there'll have to be some of a and authority—a Galactic Council or something—and the it's set up the better; the less and and jockeying-for-position there will be. Question: should this authority be political?"
"It should not!" James declared. "It takes United Worlds seven solid days of to decide or not to one lead pencil."
"Military—or naval, I it'd be—that's what Clee's at," Belle said. "You're wonderful, Clee—simply priceless! We're officers of the brand-new Galactic Navy. Subject to control, of course, but the will be the United Galaxian Societies of the Galaxy, and nobody else. Beautiful, Clee! There are ten Operators, Jim. Right?"
"Check. Brownie and I are here; the other eight are the Galaxian Society under Clee. And the whole Society eats out of his hand."
"I don't know about that, but Belle and I together it, I think."
"I'll say we could," Belle breathed. "And I can't wait to see you Fatso's teeth in with this one!"
"I don't like the word 'Navy'," Garlock said. "It's definitely to warfare. How about calling it the 'Galactic Service'? Applicable to either or peace. Brass Hats will think of us in terms of war, though we will actually work for peace. Any objections?"
There were no objections.
"About the uniforms," Lola said, eagerly. "Space-black and star-white, with and on the shoulders...."
"To with uniforms," Garlock in. "Why do have to go off the end on clothes?"
"She's right—you're wrong, Clee," James said. "Without a you won't off the ground, not with the Society. And you'll be talking to Top Planetary Brass. Also, they're Gunthered plenty—you can their Op clear out here."
"Could be," Garlock conceded. "Okay, you girls it out to yourselves. But think you can it, Belle, to wear more than twelve square of clothes?"
"Wait 'til you see it, chum. I've been a for myself for positively years."
"I can't wait. And you're a captain, of course."
"Huh? You can't have two cap.... Oh, I see. Primes. I that, Clee. Thanks."
"Hold on, of you," James said. "You haven't this through enough. Suppose we meet already organized? Better start high than low. You've got to be top admiral, Clee."
"Rocket-oil! Suppose we don't anything at all?"
"You're right, Jim," Belle said. "Clee, you talk like a man with a paper nose. It's you who's been for two solid years about being for anything. We've got to do just that."
"Correction accepted. Brief me."
"Ranks should be different from those of United Worlds. They should be descriptive, but impressive. Tops be Galactic Admiral. That's you. Vice Galactic Admiral; me...."
"Galactic Vice Admiral would be better," Lola said.
"Accepted. Those two we'll make come or space-warps. Right?"
Garlock did not reply immediately. "Up to either one of two points," he agreed, finally.
"What points?"
"War, or being out-Gunthered. Top Gunther takes top place; man, woman, bird, beast, fish, or bug-eyed monster."
"Oh." Belle was for a moment. "No war, of course. As to the other ... I hadn't of that."
"There are a of none of us has of, but as I'll it."
"Then Regional Admirals, each with his Regional Vice Admiral. Then System Admirals and Vices, and World or Planetary—naming the planet, you know—Admirals and Vices. Let the Galaxian Societies take over from there down. How do you like them potatoes, Buster?"
"Nice. And address, intra-ship, will be Mister and Miss. Jim and Brownie?"
They liked it. "Where do we fit in?" James asked.
"Pick your own spots," Garlock said.
"If we to the Solar System we aren't so to by Primes. So make me Solar System Admiral and Brownie my Vice."
"Okay. How long will it take you, Belle, to those uniforms?"
"Fifteen longer than it takes the to us. Lola's color is right, and I've got else to the last of chrome. Let's go."
They went: and came into the Main in uniform. Belle had done a job.
That of the men, while something on the side, was more or less conventional, with stiff-visored, screened, heavily-chromed caps; but the women's! Slippers, caps, and jackets—but what jackets!
"Well...." Garlock said, after the two girls for a good minute. "It doesn't look like a spray-on job; but if you take a it'll from here to there. Fly off—leave you as a jay-bird."
"Oh, no. The a little. See? Nothing like a sweater, but a effect—perhaps a more so."
"Quite a more so, I'd say. However, since Operators and Primes are like Tennick Towers, I don't your recruits will be at, or will too much about, overexposure. Are we to go and to work?"
"I am," James said. "How do you want to it?"
"Run a search pattern. Belle and I will center their Op and check on Ops and Primes. You two at will."
Around and around the planet, in of speed, the ship darted; the biggest, solidest, yet most and "flying saucer" to visit that world. The and six great were traversed; the ice-caps; the frigid, the temperate, and the zones. Wherever she went, powerful and and her; she went, seethed.
"Beta Centauri Five," Garlock reported, after a minutes. "Margonia, they call it. Biggest and nation named Nargoda. Capital city Margon; Margon Base on nearby. Lots of Gunther Firsts. All the Gunther, though, is clear across the continent. They're a starship. Fourteen Ops and two Primes—man and woman. Deggi Delcamp's a big bruiser, with a God-awful of stuff. Ugly as hell, though. He's a type."
"I'm amazed," James played it straight. "I all male Primes would be just like you. Timorous Timmies."
"Huh? Oh...." Garlock was taken aback, but on quickly, "What do you think of your opposite number, Belle?" He a wolf-call and hour-glass with his hands. "I'd of you in on a new model, but Fao Talaho is no bargain, either—and nobody's push-over."
"Trade! You tomcat!" Belle's flared. "You know what that bleached-blonde to do? High-hat me!"
"I noticed. When we four to business, to face, there should be some by-products."
"You it, boss. Primes to be such people." James rolled his and his hands. "If you've got all the dope, no use this search pattern."
"Go ahead. Window dressing. The Brass hasn't any idea of what's going on, any more than ours did."
The search on until, "This is it," James reported. "Where? Over Margon Base?"
"Check. Kick us over there, ten or twelve hundred miles up."
"On the way, boss. Looks like your is about to pick."
"It isn't much of a yet; just that cultural and patterns should be more or less galaxies. Until it can why so many out-galaxies are just it doesn't amount to much. By the way, I'm you people on organization and rank and uniforms. The Brass is going to take a amount of convincing. Take over, Brownie—this is your dish."
"I was of that."
The others Lola drive her probe—a diamond-clear, razor-sharp of that no Gunther First possibly either or stop—down into the private office of that and far-flung base. Through Lola's they saw a tall, trim, handsome, man in a of and gold; they her that officer's hard-held block.
"I you, Supreme Grand Marshal Entlore, Highest Commander of the Armed Forces of Nargoda. This is the Pleiades, of System Sol, Planet Tellus. I am Sol-System Vice-Admiral Lola Montandon. I have with me as guests three of my officers of the Galactic Service, the Galactic Admiral himself. We are making a good-will of the Tellus-Type of this region of space. I permission to land and as to your landing conventions. The landing pad—bottom—of the Pleiades is flat; sixty wide by one hundred twenty long. Area is eight square foot. Solid, ground is perfectly satisfactory. While we land vertically, with little or no impact, I not to your pavement."
They all the Marshal's race. "Starship! Tellus—Sol, that Type G dwarf! Interstellar travel a commonplace! A ship that size and weight—an organized, uniformed, Galaxy-wide Navy and they don't want to my pavement! My God!"
"Good going, Brownie! Kiss her for me, Jim." Garlock the thought.
Entlore, that his every was being read, himself together. "I admit that I was shocked, Admiral Montandon. But landing—really, I have nothing to do with landings. They are by...."
"I that, sir; but you that no possibly my landing. That is why I always start at the top. Besides, I do not like to waste time on officers of much rank than my own, and," Lola allowed a of good to into her thought, "the they are, the less they are to pass the well-known buck."
"You have had experience, I see," the Marshal laughed. He did have a of humor. "While landing here is forbidden—top secret, you know—would my much to you?"
"Having satisfactory contact, I you to Galactic Admiral Garlock. Take over, sir, please."
Entlore winced, for the Garlock used then to Lola's very much as a diamond to a piece of soft pipe.
"It would to us," Garlock him. "Our mission is a perfectly one. We will have a visit or none. If you do not for our friendship, another nation will."
"That wouldn't do, either, of course." Entlore paused in thought. "It to this: I must either welcome you or you."
"You may try." Garlock in self-satisfied amusement. "However, the best you can do is lithium-hydride in the hundreds-of-megatons range. Firecrackers. Every once in a while a has to try a such on us it will that we are powerful as well as friendly. Would you like to test our defenses? If so, I will neither take retaliate."
Supreme Grand Marshal Entlore was floored. "Why ... er ... not at all. I read in your mind...." He off, to an into his own private office. "Damn it, keep still!" all four "heard" him yell. "I know they ran a search pattern. I know that, too. I know about it, I tell you! I'm in full with their Supreme Grand Admiral. There's only the one ship, they're friendly, and I'm them to land here on Margon Base. Give that to the press. Say also that entrance restrictions to Margon Base will not be at present. Grand Marshal Holson and ComOff Flurnoy, here and in. The of you out and out! Throw all reports about any or or what-have-you into the waste-basket!"
"Resume command, please, Miss Montandon," Garlock directed; and his from Entlore's mind.
"I thank you, Supreme Grand Marshal Entlore, for your welcome," Lola sent. "I'm sorry that our visits so much disturbance, but I it can't be helped. Our Gunther are down. Would you and your two like to out here to us, and us yourselves?" Lola that they not, and for them. "But of you can't, without a focus spot here in the Main. Shall I you aboard?"
ComOff Flurnoy's face—she was an attractive, nicely-built red-head throat-mike, earphone, and recorder—turned so that a line of out across the of her nose. She very wanted to a protest, but would not. Both men, enough, were to go. Instantly all three were in line on the deep-piled of the Main, the four Tellurians. Seven came to attention, seven right hands into two of salute. Standing thus, each party the other for a of seconds.
There was no at all as to which two of the visitors the two Nargodian men were studying; but neither of them make up his mind as to which of the black-and-white-clad to study or most. The red-head's glance, too, Belle and Garlock—incredulous and her eyes.
"At rest, please, fellow-officers," Garlock said, and Lola performed the necessary introductions, adding, "We do not, however, use titles ship. Mister and Miss are and sufficient."
Behind each of officers a long appeared; them a table with sandwiches, olives, pickles, relishes, fruits, nuts, soft drinks, cigars, and cigarettes.
"Help yourselves," Garlock invited. "We neither drugs, but you should something there to your taste."
"Indeed we shall, and thank you," Entlore said. "Is there any objection, Mr. Garlock, to Miss Flurnoy of this meeting and of this ship to our base?"
"None whatever. Send as you please, Miss Flurnoy, or as Mr. Entlore directs."
"I'm I didn't myself out of up here," the Communications Officer said. "This is the biggest and I had. Such a that I don't know just where to begin." She an at her officer.
"As usual. Whatever you think should be sent." Entlore sent her a thought. Then, as the girl settled with a sandwich in one hand and a tall of ginger-ale in the other, he on, to Garlock, "She is a very and very telepath—by our standards, at least."
"By also." Garlock had of been checking. "Accurate, sharp, wide-range, clear-thinking, and fast. Not one of us four do it any better."
"I thank you, Mr. Garlock," the girl said, with a of pleasure—and with a pause in her work.
A of the ship followed; and as it progressed, the more and the two Nargodian became.
"But no at all?" Holson incredulously. "How can a thing like this possibly work?"
"It's Gunthered," Lola explained. "It itself. That is, almost all the time. Whenever we land on any for the time, one of us has to it. Or for any other special job not in its memory banks. When you're for us to land I'll you—it's my turn to work."
"Miss Flurnoy, have they the air over Pylon Six?"
"Yes, sir. Clearance came through five minutes ago. They are it clear for us."
"Thank you. Miss Montandon, you may land at your convenience."
"Thank you, sir." Lola took the pilot's chair. "This is the scanner. I it over my and head, so. Since I am always in with the field...."
"What that mean?" Entlore asked, dark in his mind.
"I was of that. You can't an Operator Field. I'm sorry, sir, but that means you can't these and will be able to. Certain Gunther of your brain are inoperative. On our you are a Gunther First...."
"On ours, I'm an Esper Ten, the in the world—except for a who.... Excuse me, please, I shouldn't have said that, in view of what I see here."
"No taken, sir. Those who the Gunther Drive were until they got the out into space. But with this on, I think of where I want to look and I can see it. I then think the ship a miles sidewise—so—and we are now directly over your Pylon Six. I'm starting down, but I won't go into free fall."
Apparent weight less and less, until: "This is about for you, Miss Flurnoy?"
"Just," the ComOff agreed, with a gulp. "One less and I'm I'll that I just ate."
"We're going fast now. Everyone down? Brace yourselves, please. You'll be about fifty for a while."
As settled into Entlore sent Garlock a thought. "We three about five hundred pounds. You us—instantaneously or nearly so, but I'll pass the question of for the moment—eleven hundred miles up. How did you the Law of Conservation?"
"We didn't. We have of twenty horsepower. Our Operator Field, which has a of fifteen thousand miles and is to an of one hundred thousand gunts, stores energy. Its action is not like that of an or of a battery, but is more or less to both. Thus, the energy to you three came from the field, but the amount was so small that it did not the of the by any amount. Setting this ship down—call it sixty thousand for a thousand miles at one gravity—will the field's by one-tenth of one gunt. Have you paraphysics?"
"No."
"It wasn't practical, eh?" Garlock smiled. "Then I can't make a at to you. I'll just say that there is no involved, no time lapse. There is no of the Law of Conservation since and points are equi-Guntherial. But what I am in is that small group of high you mentioned."
"Yes, I that from Miss Montandon's comments." Entlore and Garlock his picture Margon Base and his nation's being and by a of and like this Pleiades.
"You are wrong, sir," Garlock put in, quietly. "The Galactic Service has not had, not and will not have, anything to do with intra-planetary affairs. We have no with, and no to, any world or any group of worlds. We are an arm of the United Galaxian Societies of the Galaxy. Our is to space. To forbid, to prevent, to any or aggression. Above all, to prevent, by means of up to and total of if necessary, any attempt to any multi-world empire."
The three Nargodians as one, as much at the scope of the thing as at the cold of ability by the thought.
"You are this precisely, Miss Flurnoy?" Entlore asked.
"Precisely, sir; background, fringes, connotations, and implications; just as he is it to us."
"Let us assume that your Nargodian government to all the other nations of your Margonia. Assume that it succeeds. We will not object; in fact, we will, as a thing, not be of it. If then, however, your government that one world is not for it to and to conquer, or take action against, any other world, we will be and we will step in. First, will be given. Second, any and all on such a mission will be annihilated. Third, if the is or repeated, trial will be the Galactic Council and any will be out."
In of Garlock's manner and message, were relieved. "You're in of time, with us, sir," Entlore said. "We have just sent our to our nearer moon ... that is, unless that group of—of their ship off the ground."
"How along are they?"
"The ship itself is built, but they are having trouble with their drive. The is spherical, and much smaller than this one. It has engines, but no or ion-plates ... but neither has this one!"
"Exactly; they may be well along. I'd like to in touch with them as soon as possible. May I borrow a 'talker' like Miss Flurnoy for a days? You have others, I suppose?"
"Yes, but I'll let you have her; it is of the that you have the best one available. Miss Flurnoy?"
"Yes, sir?" Besides reporting, she had been with James and Belle.
"Would you like to be to Mr. Garlock for the of his on Margonia?"
"Oh, yes, sir!" she replied, excitedly.
"You are so assigned. Take orders from him or from any as though I myself were them."
"Thank you, sir ... but what limits? And do I to and/or record for you, sir?"
"No limit. These four Galaxians are nation-wide top clearance. Transmit as is permitted."
"Full is not only permitted, but urged," Garlock said. "There is nothing about our mission."
As the Pleiades landed: "If you will give us your focus spot, Mr. Entlore, we can all 'port to your office and save calling staff cars."
"And a revolution?" Entlore laughed. "Apparently you haven't been outside."
"Afraid I haven't. I've been thinking."
"Take a look. I got orders from the Cabinet to put people must not go, and open else to the public. I there are to keep a open for us, but I wouldn't on it." Garlock was very that the men's had disappeared. "You Galaxians took this whole by while you were still above the stratosphere."
There is no need to go into detail the and celebration. On Earth, one of a president and one of a were each almost as well by broadcasters, if not as and prolonged. From the Pleiades they to the Administration Building, where an was held. Thence to the Capitol, where the was very indeed. Thence to the Grand Ballroom of the city's largest hotel, where a tremendous—and long-winded—banquet was served.
At Garlock's request, all sixteen members of the "crackpot" group—the most active members of the Deep Space Club—had been to the banquet. And, though Garlock was a very man, his in to each one of the sixteen, them all to the Galactic Admiral, and in odd moments a great of was done.
After being told most of the story—in tight-beamed that ComOff Flurnoy not receive—the whole group was enthusiastic. They would the name of their to The Galaxian Society Of Margonia. They plans for a world-wide organization which would have and income. They already had a field—Garlock about their ship—they wanted the Pleiades to move over to it as soon as possible—Yes, Garlock he do it the day—if not, as soon as he could....
The Pleiades had at ten o'clock in the forenoon, local time; the did not come to an end until long after midnight. Throughout all this time the four Galaxians on, without a slip, the act that all this was, to them, old stuff.
It was just a little when they returned, exhausted, to the ship. ComOff Flurnoy with them. She was still at the wonder of it all as Belle and Brownie her to her quarters.
In an blast of Gunther power the of many worlds toward the meeting on Tellus.
