The Lost Kafoozalum

supposed to show Initiative and break out; Iam examining things with this in mind when the speaker comes to lifeagain.

  It says, "Ladies and gentlemen. You have not been told whether theproblem that you studied yesterday concerned a real situation or animaginary one. You have all outlined measures which you think wouldimprove the situation described. Please consider, seriously, whetheryou would be prepared to take part yourself in the application of yourplan."

  Brother.

  There is no way to tell whether those who say No will be countedcowardly or those who say Yes rash idiots or what, the owner of thatvoice has his inflections too well trained to give anything awayexcept intentionally.

  D. J. M'Clare.

  Not in person but a recording, anyway M'Clare is on Earth surroundedby exam papers.

  I sit back and try to think, honestly, if that crack-brained notion Iwrote out last night were going to be tried in dead earnest, would Itake a hand in it?

  The trouble is, hearing M'Clare's voice has convinced me it is a Test,I don't know whether it is testing my courage or my prudence in fact Imight as well toss for it.

  Heads I am crazy, Tails a defaulter; Tails is what it is.

  I seize my styler and write the decision down.

  There is the slit in the door.

  I twiddle the note and think Well nobody asked for it yet.

  Suppose it is real, after all?

  I remember the itchy, sweaty feeling I got yesterday and try topicture really embarking on a thing like this, but I cannot work upany lather today.

  I begin to picture M'Clare reading my decision not to back up my ownidea.

  I pick up the coin and juggle it around.

  The speaker remarks When I am quite ready will I please make a noteof my decision and post it through the door.

  I go on flipping the coin up and presently it drops on the floor, itis Heads this time.

  Tossing coins is a pretty feeble way to decide.

  I drop the note on the floor and take another sheet and write "YES.Lysistrata Lee."

  Using that name seems to make it more legal.

  I slip the paper in the slit and poke till it falls through on theother side of the door.

  I am suddenly immensely hungry and dial breakfast all over again.

  * * * * *

  Just as I finish M'Clare's voice starts once more.

  "It's always the minor matters that cause the most difficulty. Thetiming of this announcement has cost me as much thought as any aspectof the arrangements. The trouble is that however honest you are--andyour honesty has been tested repeatedly--and however strong yourimagination--about half of your training has been devoted todeveloping it--you can't possibly be sure, answering a hypotheticalquestion, that you are giving the answer you would choose if you knewit was asked in dead earnest.

  "Those of you who answered the question in the negative are out ofthis. They have been told that it was a test, of an experimentalnature, and have been asked to keep the whole thing a secret. Theywill be returning to Earth in a few hours' time. I ask the rest ofyou to think it over once again. Your decision is still private. Onlythe two people who gathered you together know which members of theclass are in this ship. The list of possible helpers was compiled by acomputer. I haven't seen it myself.

  "You have a further half hour in which to make up your minds finally.Please remember that if you have any private reservations on thematter, or if you are secretly afraid, you may endanger us all. Youall know enough psychology to realize this.

  "If you still decide in favor of the project, write your name on aslip of paper and post it as before. If you are not absolutely certainabout it, do nothing. Please think it over for half an hour."

  Me, I had enough thinking. I write my name--just L. Lee--and post itstraight away.

  However I cannot stop thinking altogether. I guess I think very hard,in fact. My Subconscious insists afterwards that it did register theplop as something came through the slit, but my Conscious failed tonotice it at all.

  Hours later--my watch says twenty-five minutes but I guess theMass-Time has affected it--anyway I had three times too much solitaryconfinement--when will they let me out of here?--there is a knock atthe door and a second later it slides apart.

  I am expecting Ram or Peter so it takes me an appreciable fraction ofa moment to realize I am seeing D. J. M'Clare.

  Then I remember he is back on Earth buried in Exam papers andconclude I am having a hallucination.

  This figment of my imagination says politely, "Do you mind if I sitdown?"

  He collapses on the couch as though thoroughly glad of it.

  It is a strange thing, every time I see M'Clare I am startled all overagain at how good-looking he is; seems I forget it between times whichis maybe why I never fell for him as most female students do.

  However what strikes me this time is that he looks tired,three-days-sleepless tired with worries on top.

  I guess he is real, at that.

  He says, "Don't look so accusing, Lizzie, I only just got on this shipmyself."

  This does not make sense; you cannot just arrive on a ship twenty-fourhours after it goes on Mass-Time; or can you?

  M'Clare leans back and closes his eyes and inquires whether I am oneof the Morse enthusiasts?

  So that is the name; I say when we get back I will learn it firstthing.

  "Well," says he, "I did my best to arrange privacy for all of you;with so many ingenious idiots on board I'm not really surprised thatthey managed to circumvent me. I had to cheat and check that youreally were on the list; and I knew that whoever backed out you'dstill be on board."

  So I should hope he might: Horrors there is my first answer screwedup on the floor and Writing side top-most.

  However he has not noticed it, he goes on "Anyway you of all peoplewon't be thought to have dropped out because you were afraid."

  I have just managed to hook my heel over the note and get it out ofsight, M'Clare has paused for an answer and I have to dredge mySub-threshold memories for--

  WHAT?

  * * * * *

  M'Clare opens his eyes and says like I am enacting Last Straw, "Havesome sense, Lizzie." Then in a different tone, "Ram says he gave youthe letter half an hour ago."

  What letter?

  My brain suddenly registers a small pale patch been occupying a cornerof my retina for the last half hour; it turns out to be a letterpostmarked Excenus 23.

  I disembowel it with one jerk. It is from my Dad and runs like this:

  My dear Liz,

  Thank you for your last letter, glad you are keeping fit and so am I.

  I just got a letter from your College saying you will get a degree conferred on you on September 12th and parents if on Earth will be welcome.

  Well Liz this I got to see and Charlie says the same, but the letter says too Terran Authority will not give a permit to visit Earth just for this, so I wangled on to a Delegation which is coming to discuss trade with the Department of Commerce. Charlie and I will be arriving on Earth on August 24th.

  Liz it is good to think I shall be seeing you again after four years. There are some things about your future I meant to write to Professor M'Clare about, but now I shall be able to talk it over direct. Please give him my regards.

  Be seeing you Lizzie girl, your affectionate Dad

  J. X. Lee.

  Dear old Dad, after all these years farming with a weather-maker on adrydust planet I want to see his face the first time he sees realrain.

  Hell's fires and shades of darkness, I shan't be there!

  M'Clare says, "Your father wrote to me saying that he will be arrivingon Earth on 24th August. I take it your letter says the same. I cameon a dispatch boat; you can go back on it."

  _Now_ what is he talking about? Then I get the drift.

  I say, "Look. So
Dad will be on Earth before we get back. Whatdifference does that make?"

  "You can't let him arrive and find you missing."

  Well I admit to a qualm at the thought of Dad let loose on Earthwithout me, but after all Uncle Charlie is a born Terrie and can keephim in line; Hell he is old enough to look after himself anyway.

  "You met my Dad," I point out. "You think J. X. Lee would want anydaughter of his backing out on a job so as to hold his hand? I cansend him a letter saying I am off on a job or a Test or whatever Iplease and hold everything till I get back; what are you doing aboutpeople's families on Earth already?"

  M'Clare says we were all selected as having families not on Earth atpresent, and I must go back.

  I say like Hell I will.

  He says he is my official guardian and responsible for me.

  I say he is just as responsible for everyone else on this ship.

  I spent years and years trying to think up a remark would really gethome to M'Clare; well I have done