A small, black scout-ship, by Master Pilot John K. Kinnison and Master Electronicist Mason M. Northrop, was along a very close to RA17: D+10. In and personnel, however, she was not an ordinary scout. Her room was so full of and that there was in any direction; her circles and were of a size and a only in the great of the Galactic Survey. And her crew, of the twenty-odd men, numbered only seven—one cook, three engineers, and three watch officers. For some time the Third Officer, then at the board, had been studying something on his plate; it with the into the in of him. Now he turned, with a deference, to the two Lensmen.
"Sirs, which of your Magnificences is officially the of this here of and ends at the present instant?"
"Him." Jack used his cigarette as a pointer. "The guy with the on his upper lip. I don't come on until sixteen hundred hours—one Tellurian minute yet in which to of the of Earth so in space and in past and time."
"Huh? Beauties? Plural? Next time I see a party pictures are up this whole ship I'll tell her about your polygamous ideas. I'll that about my mustache, though, since you can't one of your own. I'm you, too—like this, see?" Ostentatiously his upon the Kinnison, Northrop over three or four and into the plate over the watch officer's shoulder. He then the chart. "Was los, Stu? I don't see a thing."
"More Jack's line than yours, Mase. This we're for is a triple, and the says it's a double. Natural enough, of course. This whole region is unexplored, so the are astronomicals, not surveys. But that makes us Prime Discoverers, and our Commanding Officer—and the book says 'Officer', not 'Officers'—has got to...."
"That's me, now," Jack announced, toward the plate. "Amscray, oobsbay. I will name the baby. I will report. I will go in history...."
"Bounce back, small fry. You weren't at the time of discovery." Northrop a hand against Jack's and pushed gently. "You'll go down, sure enough—not in history, but from a on the knob—if you try to any away from me. And besides, you'd name it 'Dimples'—what a thought!"
"And what would you name it? 'Virgilia', I suppose?"
"Far from it, my boy." He had doing just that, but now he did not dare. "After our project, of course. The we're for will be Zabriska; the will be A-, B-, and C-Zabriskae, in order of size; and the watch officer then on duty, Lieutenant L. Stuart Rawlings, will these and all other data in the log. Can you 'em from here, Jack?"
"I can make some guesses—close enough, probably, for Discovery work." Then, after a minutes: "Two giants, a blue-white and a yellow; and a yellow dwarf."
"Dwarf in the Trojan?"
"That would be my guess, since that is the only place it very long, but you can't tell much from one look. I can tell you one thing, though—unless your Zabriska is in a this one, it's got to be a of the big himself; and brother, that sun is hot!"
"It's got to be here, Jack. I haven't that big an error in reading a since I was a sophomore."
"I'll that ... well, we're close enough, I guess." Jack killed the blasts, but not the Bergenholm; the stopped in open space. "Now we've got to out which one of those twelve or fifteen was on our line when that last message was sent.... There, we're enough, I hope. Open your cameras, Mase. Pull the plate in fifteen minutes. That ought to give me so I can start the job, since we're at a wide to their ecliptic."
The work on for an hour or so. Then:
"Something from the direction of Tellus," the watch officer reported. "Big and fast. Shall I her?"
"Might as well," but the first.
"Space-ship Chicago, NA2AA, calling. Are you in trouble? Identify yourself, please."
"Space-ship NA774J acknowledging. No trouble...."
"Northrop! Jack!" came Virgil Samms' thought. The alongside, a hundred miles away, and stopped. "Why did you stop here?"
"This is where our came from, sir."
"Oh." A hundred through Samms' mind, too fast and too to be intelligible. "I see you're computing. Would it you off too much to go and match intrinsics, so that I can join you?"
"No sir; I've got I need for a while."
Samms came aboard; three Lensmen the chart.
"Cavenda is there," Samms pointed out. "Trenco is there, off to one side. I sure that your on Cavenda; but Zabriska, here, while on almost the same line, is less than as from Tellus." He did not ask the two Lensmen were sure of their findings. He knew. "This my no end—does it the problem, or it set up an new problem? Go ahead, boys, with you were going to do next."
Jack had already that the they wanted was the second out; A-Zabriskae Two. He the as close to the as he without complete coverage; it on the line toward Sol.
"Now we wait a bit," he answered. "According to periodicity, not less than four hours and not more than ten. With the next we'll that to a feet. Got your screens full out, Mase?"
"Recent periodicity?" Samms snapped. "It has improved, then, lately?"
"Very much, sir."
"That helps immensely. With George Olmstead broadleaf, it would. It is still one problem. While we wait, shall we study the a little?"
They explored; that A-Zabriskae Two was a indeed. It was small, waterless, airless, featureless, barren. There were no elevations, no depressions, no visible whatever—not a crater. Every square of its surface was like every other.
"No rotation," Jack reported, looking up from the bolometer. "That sand-pile is not and will be. I'm to wonder."
"So am I, now," Northrop admitted. "I still say that those came from this line and distance, but it looks as though they must have been sent from a ship. If so, now that we're here—particularly the Chicago—there will be no more signals."
"Not necessarily." Again Samms' mind his Tellurian and knowledge. He did not the truth, but he was not jumping at conclusions. "There may be life, upon such a as this."
They waited, and in a hours a into life.
"READY—READY—READY...." it said briskly, for not one minute, but that was time enough.
Northrop a of numbers; Jack the little and downward; the three watch officers, keen-eyed at their plates, their visibeams, ultra-beams, and spy-rays along the line.
"And through the if you have to—they may be on the other side!" Jack cautioned, sharply.
"They aren't—it's here, on this side!" Rawlings saw it first. "Nothing much to it, though ... it looks like a station."
"A relay! I'll be a...." Jack started to an opinion, but himself up. Young did not in of the First Lensman. "Let's land, sir, and look the place over, anyway."
"By all means."
They landed, and disembarked. The horizon, while actually a little closer than that of Earth, much more there was nothing whatever—no tree, no shrub, no or pebble, not the ripple—to the perfection of that surface of smooth, hard, reflective, white sand. Samms was at first—a ground-temperature of four hundred seventy-five was not to be taken lightly; he did not at all like the looks of that ultra-fervent blue-white sun; and in his he had pictured such a desert. Their space-suits, however, were very well insulated, particularly as to the feet, and polished; and in of there was an almost perfect vacuum. They it for a while.
The box which the station was of non-ferrous metal and was in shape, five on a side. It was so that its upper was with the surface; its top, which was from the sand, was not or welded, but was on, loose.
Previous spy-ray having proved that the thing was not booby-trapped, Jack the by one and all three Lensmen the at close range; learning nothing new. There was an non-directional receiver, a sender, a uranium-clock director, and an "eternal" powerpack. There was nothing else.
"What next, sir?" Northrop asked. "There'll be an signal, probably, in a of days. Shall we around and see it comes in from Cavenda or not?"
"You and Jack had wait, yes." Samms for minutes. "I do not believe, now, that the will come from Cavenda, or that it will come twice from the same direction, but we will have to make sure. But I can't see any for it!"
"I think I can, sir." This was Northrop's specialty. "No space-ship possibly Tellus from here by accident with a single-ended beam, and they can't use a double-ender it would have to be on all the time and would be as easy to as the Mississippi River. But this did all its settling ago—which is why they it out—and that in there is a Marchanti—the second Marchanti I have seen."
"Whatever that is," Jack put in, and Samms a question.
"The most thing built," the explained. "Accuracy limited only by that of of relative motions. Give me an to into it, like that tape is doing, and two shots, and I'll to an eighteen-inch into any two cup on Earth. My is that it's at some particular bucket-antenna on one of the Solar planets. I its easily enough, but I don't that is what you're after."
"Decidedly not. We want to them, without any more than is necessary. How often, would you say, do they have to come here to service this station—change tapes, and else might be necessary?"
"Change tapes, is all. Not very often, by the size of those reels. If they know the relative enough, they as ahead as they to. I've been that reel—it's got close to three months left on it."
"And more than that much has been used. It's no wonder we didn't see anything." Samms up and out across the waste. "Look there—I I saw something move—it is moving!"
"There's something moving closer than that, and it's funny." Jack laughed deeply. "It's like the paddle-wheels, and all, of an old-fashioned river steam-boat, along as as you please. He won't miss me by over four feet, but he isn't a hair. I think I'll him off, just to see what he does."
"Be careful, Jack!" Samms cautioned, sharply. "Don't touch it—it may be charged, or worse."
Jack took the metal cover, which he was still holding, and by it and in the sand, of it a across the thing's path. The traveler paid no attention, did not its of a of miles hour. It about twelve long over all; its paddle-wheel-like were two wide and three in diameter.
"Do you think it's actually alive, sir? In a place like this?"
"I'm sure of it. Watch carefully."
It the and stopped. That is, its motion stopped, but its did not. Its of did not change; it either did not know or did not that its were on the smooth, hard sand; that it not climb the metal plate; that it was not anywhere.
"What a brain!" Northrop chortled, closer. "Why doesn't it up or turn around? It may be alive, but it isn't very bright."
The creature, now in the of the 'Troncist's helmet, abruptly—went limp—collapsed.
"Get out of his light!" Jack snapped, and pushed his friend away; and as the it, the native and to as as before. "I've got a hunch. Sounds screwy—never of such a thing—but it like an energy-converter. Eats energy, and straight. No capacity—on this world he wouldn't need it—a more in the would have killed him, but there's no here. Therefore, he can't be dangerous."
He out and touched the middle of the shaft. Nothing happened. He it at right to the plate. The thing rolled away in a line, perfectly with the new direction. He it and a test-prod into the sand, just ahead of its and just one wheel. Around and around that wire the went: unable, it seemed, to from such a trap; perfectly willing, it seemed, to all the of its life that circle.
"'What a brain!' is right, Mase," Jack exclaimed. "What a brain!"
"This is wonderful, boys, wonderful; something new to our science." Samms' was with feeling. "I am going to see if I can its mind or consciousness. Would you like to come along?"
"Would we!"
Samms low and probed; and lower; and deeper; and Jack and Mase with him. The thing was alive; it and with vitality: certainly, it was not very intelligent. But it had a of its own existence; and therefore, and primitive, a mind. Although its neither thought, it that it was a fontema, that it must roll and roll and roll, endlessly, that by of its would continue and would increase.
"Well, that's one for the book!" Jack exclaimed, but Samms was entranced.
"I would like to one or two more of them, to out ... I think I'll take the time. Can you see any more of them, either of you?"
"No, but we can some—Stu!" Northrop called.
"Yes?"
"Look around, will you? Find us a more of these and them over here with a tractor."
"Coming up!" and in a they were there.
"Are you photographing this, Lance?" Samms called the Chief Communications Officer of the Chicago.
"We are, sir—all of it. What are they, anyway? Animal, vegetable, or mineral?"
"I don't know. Probably no one of the three, speaking. I'd like to take a to Tellus, but I'm that they'd die, under an lamp. We'll report to the Society."
Jack his and it to pass a of one of the newcomers, but the two did not each other. Both swerved, so that they came together wheel to wheel. The toward each other, each into a right angle. The touched and fused. The point of into a fist-sized lump. The half-shafts in length. The into four; four perfect paddle-wheels. Four full-grown rolled away from the spot upon which two had met; their two lines.
"Beautiful!" Samms exclaimed. "And notice, boys, the method of inbreeding. Upon a perfectly such as this, no two of those four can meet, and the is almost small that any of their first-generation will meet. But I'm I've been time. Take me out to the Chicago, please, and I'll be on my way."
"You don't at all optimistic, sir," Jack ventured, as the NA774J approached the Chicago.
"Unfortunately, I am not. The will almost come in from an direction, from a ship so away that a super-fast not close to her to detect—just a minute. Rod!" He Lensed the Kinnison so that Lensmen jumped.
"What is it, Virge?"
Samms rapidly, concluding: "So I would like to have you a of around this whole Zabriskan system. One detet[A] out and one apart, so as to be able to a onto any ship a to this planet, from any direction whatever. It would not take too many scouts, would it?"
"No; but it wouldn't be while."
"Why not?"
"Because it wouldn't prove a thing what we already know—that Spaceways is in the racket. The ship would be clean. Merely another relay."
"Oh. You're right." If Virgil Samms was in the least put out at this of his idea, he no sign. He for a of minutes. "You are right. I will have to work from the Cavenda end. How are you with Operation Bennett?"
"Nice!" Kinnison enthused. "When you a of days, come over and see it grow. This is a world, Virge—it'll be ready!"
"I'll do that." Samms the and called Dronvire.
"The only here is for the worse," the Rigellian reported, tersely. "The positive deaths from and the of Spaceways has disappeared."
There was no need to on that statement. Both Lensmen what it meant. The enemy, either in of analysis or for economic reasons, was his small supply of the drug.
And DalNalten was very much his self. He was and unhappy; so much so that it took much to make him report at all.
"We have, as you know, put our best to work on the inter-planetary lines," he said finally, sullenly. "We have a little data. The facts, however, point more and more definitely toward an conclusion. Can you think of any why the and of Tellus and Mars, Mars and Venus, and Venus and Tellus, should all be equal to each other?"
"What!"
"Precisely. That is why Knobos and I are not yet to present a report."
Then Jill. "I can't prove it, any more than I before, but I'm sure that Morgan is the Boss. I have every picture I can think of with Isaacson in the driver's seat, but none of them fit?" She paused, questioningly.
"I am already to that view; at least as a hypothesis. Go ahead."
"The to be that Morgan has always had all the left-wingers of the Nationalists under his thumb. Now he and his man Friday, Representative Flierce, are all the and so-called on our of Senate and House—a new for him—and they're of the right of bait. He has the guessing, but there's no in my mind that he is at next Election Day and our Galactic Council."
"And you and Dronvire are by, doing nothing, of course?"
"Of course!" Jill giggled, but quickly. "He's a smooth, worker, Dad. We are organizing, of course, and out of our own, but there's so little that we can actually do—look and to this for a minute, and you'll see what I mean."
In her room Jill a and a switch. A plate came to life, Morgan's big, sweating, face.
"... and who are these Lensmen, anyway?" Morgan's voice bellowed, in every syllable. "They are the of the classes, in the back, and scoundrels, TOOLS OF RUTHLESS WEALTH! They are of the inter-planetary bankers, those on the who are still into the dirt, under an iron heel, the of the common man! In the of they are trying to set up the worst, the most that this has ever...." Jill the viciously.
"And a of people that ... that bilge!" she almost snarled. "If they had the of a ... of that Zabriskan Mase told me about, they wouldn't, but they do!"
"I know they do. We have all along that he is a actor; we now know that he is more than that."
"Yes, and we're out that no to reason, no counter-measures, will work. Dronvire and I agree that you'll have to so that you can do solid months of yourself. Personally."
"It may come to that, but there's a of other to do first."
Samms the and thought. He did not try to the two youths, but his mind was so fast and in such a fashion that they catch only a fragments. The of space—tracing—detection—Cavenda's one tiny, fast moving moon—back, and solidly, to DETECTION.
"Mase," Samms then, carefully. "As a in such things, why is it that the of the smallest scout—lifeboat, even—have the same range as those of the largest and battleships?"
"Noise level and hash, sir, from the atomics."
"But can't they be screened out?"
"Not entirely, sir, without completely."
"I see. Suppose, then, that all were to be down; that for the necessary and light we use electricity, from or or from a by an internal-combustion or a heat-engine. Could the range of then be increased?"
"Tremendously, sir. My is that the would then be the cosmics."
"I you're right. While you are waiting for the next to come in, you might work out a design for such a detector. If, as I anticipate, this Zabriska proves to be a end, Operation Zabriska ends here—becomes a part of Zwilnik—and you two will me at to Tellus. You, Jack, are very needed on Operation Boskone. You and I, Mase, will make a J-class of the Patrol."
