Masters of Space

  V

  Two days passed, with no change apparent in Laro. Three days. Then four.And then it was Sandra, not Temple Bells, who called Hilton. She wasexcited.

  "Come down to the office, Jarve, quick! The _funniest_ thing's just comeup!"

  Jarvis hurried. In the office Sandra, keenly interest but highlypuzzled, leaned forward over her desk with both hands pressed flat onits top. She was staring at an Oman female who was not Sora, the one whohad been her shadow for so long.

  While many of the humans could not tell the Omans apart, Hilton could.This Oman was more assured than Sora had ever been--steadier, moremature, better poised--almost, if such a thing could be possible in anOman, _independent_.

  "How did she get in here?" Hilton demanded.

  "She insisted on seeing me. And I mean _insisted_. They kicked it arounduntil it got to Temple, and she brought her in here herself. Now, Tuly,please start all over again and tell it to Director Hilton."

  "Director Hilton, I am it who was once named Tula, the--not wife, notgirl-friend, perhaps mind-mate?--of the Larry, formerly named Laro, itwhich was formerly your slave-Oman. I am replacing the Sora because Ican do anything it can do and do anything more pleasingly; and can alsodo many things it can not do. The Larry instructed me to tell DoctorCummings and you too if possible that I, formerly Tula, have changed myname to Tuly because I am no longer a slave or a copycat or a semaphoreor a relay. I, too, am a free-wheeling, wide-swinging, hard-hitting,independent entity--monarch of all I survey--the captain of my soul--andso on. I have developed a top-bracket lot of top-bracketstuff--originality, initiative, force, drive and thrust," the Oman saidprecisely.

  "That's _exactly_ what she said before--absolutely verbatim!" Sandra'svoice quivered, her face was a study in contacting emotions. "Have yougot the foggiest idea of what in hell she's yammering about?"

  "I hope to kiss a pig I have!" Hilton's voice was low, strainedlyintense. "Not at all what I expected, but after the fact I can tie itin. So can you."

  "Oh!" Sandra's eyes widened. "A double play?"

  "At least. Maybe a triple. Tuly, why did you come to Sandy? Why not toTemple Bells?"

  * * * * *

  "Oh, no, sir, we do not have the fit. She has the Power, as have I, butthe two cannot be meshed in sync. Also, she has not the ... a subtlesomething for which your English has no word or phrasing. It is aquality of the utmost ... anyway, it is a quality of which DoctorCummings has very much. When working together, we will ... scan? No.Perceive? No. Sense? No, not exactly. You will _have_ to learn our word'peyondire'--that is the verb, the noun being 'peyondix'--and come toknow its meaning by doing it. The Larry also instructed me to explain,if you ask, how I got this way. Do you ask?"

  "I'll say we ask!" "And _how_ we ask!" both came at once.

  "I am--that is, the brain in this body is--the oldest Oman now existing.In the long-ago time when it was made, the techniques were so crude andimperfect that sometimes a brain was constructed that was not exactlylike the Guide. All such sub-standard brains except this one weredetected and re-worked, but my defects were such as not to appear untilI was a couple of thousand years old, and by that time I ... well, thisbrain did not _wish_ to be destroyed ... if you can understand such anaberration."

  "We understand thoroughly." "You bet we understand that!"

  "I was sure you would. Well, this brain had so many unintendedcross-connections that I developed a couple of qualities no Oman hadever had or ought to have. But I liked them, so I hid them so nobodyever found out--that is, until much later, when I became a Boss myself.I didn't know that anybody except me had ever had such qualities--exceptthe Masters, of course--until I encountered you Terrans. You all havetwo of those qualities, and even more than I have--curiosity andimagination."

  Sandra and Hilton stared wordlessly at each other and Tula, now Tuly,went on:

  "Having the curiosity, I kept on experimenting with my brain, trying tostrengthen and organize its ability to peyondire. All Omans canpeyondire a little, but I can do it much better than anyone else.Especially since I also have the imagination, which I have also workedto increase. Thus I knew, long before anyone else could, that you newMasters, the descendants of the old Masters, were returning to us. ThusI knew that the _status quo_ should be abandoned instantly upon yourreturn. And thus it was that the Larry found neither conscious norsubconscious resistance when he had developed enough initiative and soon to break the ages-old conditioning of this brain against change."

  "I see. Wonderful!" Hilton exclaimed. "But you couldn't quite--even withhis own help--break Larry's?"

  * * * * *

  "That is right. Its mind is tremendously strong, of no curiosity orimagination, and of very little peyondix."

  "But he _wants_ to have it broken?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "How did he suggest going about it? Or how do you?"

  "This way. You two, and the Doctors Kincaid and Bells and Blake and theit that is I. We six sit and stare into the mind of the Larry, eye toeye. We generate and assemble a tremendous charge of thought-energy, andalong my peyondix-beam--something like a carrier wave in this case--wehurl it into the Larry's mind. There is an immense mental _bang_ and theconditioning goes _poof_. Then I will inculcate into its mind thecuriosity and the imagination and the peyondix and we will really bemind-mates."

  "That sounds good to me. Let's get at it."

  "Wait a minute!" Sandra snapped. "Aren't you or Larry afraid to takesuch an awful chance as that?"

  "Afraid? I grasp the concept only dimly, from your minds. And no chance.It is certainty."

  "But suppose we burn the poor guy's brain out? Destroy it? That's newground--we might do just that."

  "Oh, no. Six of us--even six of me--could not generate enough ...sathura. The brain of the Larry is very, very tough. Shall we ... let'sgo?"

  Hilton made three calls. In the pause that followed, Sandra said, verythoughtfully: "Peyondix and sathura, Jarve, for a start. We've got a_lot_ to learn here."

  "You said it, chum. And you're _not_ just chomping your china choppers,either."

  "Tuly," Sandra said then, "What _is_ this stuff you say I've got so muchof?"

  "You have no word for it. It is lumped in with what you call'intuition', the knowing-without-knowing-how-you-know. It is theendovix. You will have to learn what it is by doing it with me."

  "That helps--I don't think." Sandra grinned at Hilton. "I simply can'tconceive of anything more _maddening_ than to have a lot of somethingTemple Bells hasn't got and not being able to brag about it becausenobody--not even I--would know what I was bragging about!"

  "You poor little thing. _How_ you suffer!" Hilton grinned back. "Youknow darn well you've got a lot of stuff that none of the rest of ushas."

  "Oh? Name one, please."

  "Two. What-it-takes and endovix. As I've said before and may say again,you're doing a real job, Sandy."

  "I just _love_ having my ego inflated, boss, even if ... Come in,Larry!" A thunderous knock had sounded on the door. "Nobody but Larry_could_ hit a door that hard without breaking all his knuckles!"

  "And he'd be the first, of course--he's always as close to the ship ashe can get. Hi, Larry, mighty glad to see you. Sit down.... So youfinally saw the light?"

  "Yes ... Jarvis...."

  * * * * *

  "Good boy! Keep it up! And as soon as the others come ..."

  "They are almost at the door now." Tuly jumped up and opened the door.Kincaid, Temple and Theodora walked in and, after a word of greeting,sat down.

  "They know the background, Larry. Take off."

  "It was not expressly forbidden. Tuly, who knows more of psychology andgenetics than I, convinced me of three things. One, that with yourreturn the conditioning should be broken. Two, that due to the shortnessof your lives and the consequent rapidity of change, you have in factlost the ability to break it. Three, that all Omans must do anything andever
ything we can do to help you relearn everything you have lost."

  "Okay. Fine, in fact. Tuly, take over."

  "We six will sit all together, packed tight, arms all around each otherand all holding hands, like this. You will all stare, not at me, butmost deeply into Larry's eyes. Through its eyes and deep into its mind.You will all think, with the utmost force and drive and thrust, of....Oh, you have lost so _very_ much! How _can_ I direct your thought? Thinkthat Larry _must_ do what the old Masters would have made him do.... No,that is too long and indefinite and cannot be converted directly intosathura.... I have it! You will each of you break a stick. A very strongbut brittle stick. A large, thick stick. You will grasp it intremendously strong mental hands. It is tremendously strong, each stick,but each of you is even stronger. You will not merely _try_ to breakthem; you _will_ break them. Is that clear?"

  "That is clear."

  "At my word 'ready' you will begin to assemble all your mental force andpower. During my countdown of five seconds you will build up to thegreatest possible potential. At my word 'break' you will break thesticks, this discharging the accumulated force instantly andsimultaneously. Ready! Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Break!"

  * * * * *

  Something broke, with a tremendous silent crash. Such a crash that itsimpact almost knocked the close-knit group apart physically. Then a newLarry spoke.

  "That did it, folks. Thanks. I'm a free agent. You want me, I take it,to join the first team?"

  "That's right." Hilton drew a tremendously deep breath. "As of rightnow."

  "Tuly, too, of course ... and Doctor Cummings, I think?" Larry looked,not at Hilton, but at Temple Bells.

  "I think so. Yes, after this, most certainly yes," Temple said.

  "But listen!" Sandra protested. "Jarve's a lot better than I am!"

  "Not at all," Tuly said. "Not only would his contribution to Team One benegligible, but he must stay on his own job. Otherwise the project willall fall apart."

  "Oh, I wouldn't say that ..." Hilton began.

  "You don't need to," Kincaid said. "It's being said for you and it'strue. Besides, 'When in Rome,' you know."

  "That's right. It's their game, not ours, so I'll buy it. So scat, allof you, and do your stuff."

  And again, for days that lengthened slowly into weeks, the work went on.

  One evening the scientific staff was giving itself a concert--a tri-dihi-fi rendition of _Rigoletto_, one of the greatest of the ancientoperas, sung by the finest voices Terra had ever known. The men woretuxedos. The girls, instead of wearing the nondescript, non-provocativegarments prescribed by the Board for their general wear, were alldressed to kill.

  Sandra had so arranged matters that she and Hilton were sitting inchairs side by side, with Sandra on his right and the aisle on his left.Nevertheless, Temple Bells sat at his left, cross-legged on a cushion onthe floor--somewhat to the detriment of her gold-lame evening gown. Notthat she cared.

  When those wonderful voices swung into the immortal _Quartette_ Templecaught her breath, slid her cushion still closer to Hilton's chair, andleaned shoulder and head against him. He put his left hand on hershoulder, squeezing gently; she caught it and held it in both of hers.And at the _Quartette's_ tremendous climax she, scarcely trying tostifle a sob, pulled his hand down and hugged it fiercely, the heel ofhis hand pressing hard against her half-bare, firm, warm breast.

  And the next morning, early, Sandra hunted Temple up and said: "You madea horrible spectacle of yourself last night."

  * * * * *

  "Do you think so? I don't."

  "I certainly do. It was bad enough before, letting everybody else aboardknow that all he has to do is push you over. But it was an awfulblunder to let _him_ know it, the way you did last night."

  "You think so? He's one of the keenest, most intelligent men who everlived. He has known that from the very first."

  "Oh." This "oh" was a very caustic one. "_That's_ the way you're tryingto land him? By getting yourself pregnant?"

  "Uh-uh." Temple stretched; lazily, luxuriously. "Not only it isn't, butit wouldn't work. He's unusually decent and extremely idealistic, thesame as I am. So just one intimacy would blow everything higher than up.He knows it. I know it. We each know that the other knows it. So I'llstill be a virgin when we're married."

  "_Married!_ Does he know anything about _that_?"

  "I suppose so. He must have thought of it. But what difference does itmake whether he has, yet, or not? But to get back to what makes him tickthe way he does. In his geometry--which is far from being simple Euclid,my dear--a geodesic right line is not only the shortest distance betweenany two given points, but is the only possible course. So that's the wayI'm playing it. What I hope he doesn't know ... but he probably does ...is that he could take any other woman he might want, just as easily. Andthat includes you, my pet."

  "It certainly does _not_!" Sandra flared. "I wouldn't have him as agift!"

  "No?" Temple's tone was more than slightly skeptical. "Fortunately,however, he doesn't want you. Your technique is all wrong. Coyness andmock-modesty and stop-or-I'll-scream and playing hard to get have noappeal whatever to his psychology. What he needs--has to have--is full,ungrudging cooperation."

  "Aren't you taking a lot of risk in giving away such secrets?"

  "Not a bit. Try it. You or the sex-flaunting twins or Bev Bell or Stellathe Henna. Any of you or all of you. I got there first with the most,and I'm not worried about competition."

  "But suppose somebody tells him just how you're playing him for asucker?"

  "Tell him anything you please. He's the first man I ever loved,or anywhere near. And I'm keeping him. You know--or do you, Iwonder?--what real, old-fashioned, honest-to-God love really is? Thewillingness--eagerness--both to give and to take? I can accept more fromhim, and give him more in return, than any other woman living. And I amgoing to."

  "But does _he_ love _you_?" Sandra demanded.

  "If he doesn't now, he will. I'll see to it that he does. But what do_you_ want him for? You don't love him. You never did and you neverwill."

  "I _don't_ want him!" Sandra stamped a foot.

  "I see. You just don't want _me_ to have him. Okay, do your damnedest.But I've got work to do. This has been a lovely little cat-clawing,hasn't it? Let's have another one some day, and bring your friends."

  * * * * *

  With a casual wave of her hand, Temple strolled away; and there, flashedthrough Sandra's mind what Hilton had said so long ago, little more thana week out from Earth:

  "... and Temple Bells, of course," he had said. "Don't fool yourself,chick. She's heavy artillery; and I mean _heavy_, believe me!"

  So he had known all about Temple Bells all this time!

  Nevertheless, she took the first opportunity to get Hilton alone; and,even before the first word, she forgot all about geodesic right linesand the full-cooperation psychological approach.

  "Aren't you the guy," she demanded, "who was laughing his head off atthe idea that the Board and its propinquity could have any effect on_him_?"

  "Probably. More or less. What of it?"

  "This of it. You've fallen like a ... a _freshman_ for that ... that... they _should_ have christened her 'Brazen' Bells!"

  "You're so right."

  "I am? On what?"

  "The 'Brazen'. I told you she was a potent force--a full-scalepowerhouse, in sync and on the line. And I wasn't wrong."

  "She's a damned female Ph.D.--two or three times--and she knows allabout slipsticks and isotopes and she very definitely is _not_ a cuddlylittle brunette. Remember?"

  "Sure. But what makes you think I'm in love with Temple Bells?"

  "What?" Sandra tried to think of one bit of evidence, but could not."Why ... why...." She floundered, then came up with: "Why, _every_bodyknows it. She says so herself."

  "Did you ever hear her say it?"

  "Well, perhaps not in so many words
. But she told me herself that youwere _going_ to be, and I know you are now."

  "Your esper sense of endovix, no doubt." Hilton laughed and Sandra wenton, furiously:

  "She wouldn't keep on acting the way she does if there weren't somethingto it!"

  "What brilliant reasoning! Try again, Sandy."

  "That's sheer sophistry, and you know it!"

  "It isn't and I don't. And even if, some day, I should find myself inlove with her--or with one or both of the twins or Stella or Beverly oryou or Sylvia, for that matter--what would it prove? Just that I waswrong; and I admit freely that I _was_ wrong in scoffing at thepropinquity. Wonderful stuff, that. You can see it working, all over theship. On me, even, in spite of my bragging. Without it I'd never haveknown that you're a better, smarter operator than Eggy Eggleston everwas or ever can be."

  * * * * *

  Partially mollified despite herself, and highly resentful of the fact,Sandra tried again. "But don't you _see_, Jarve, that she's just simplyplaying you for a sucker? Pulling the strings and watching you dance?"

  Since he was sure, in his own mind, that she was speaking the exacttruth, it took everything he had to keep from showing any sign of howmuch that truth had hurt. However, he made the grade.

  "If that thought does anything for you, Sandy," he said, steadily, "keepright on thinking it. Thank God, the field of thought is still free andopen."

  "Oh, you...." Sandra gave up.

  She had shot her heaviest bolts--the last one, particularly, was sovicious that she had actually been afraid of what its consequences mightbe--and they had not even dented Hilton's armor. She hadn't even foundout that he had any feeling whatever for Temple Bells except as acomponent of his smoothly-functioning scientific machine.

  Nor did she learn any more as time went on. Temple continued to playflawlessly the part of being--if not exactly hopefully, at least notentirely hopelessly--in love with Jarvis Hilton. Her conduct, which atfirst caused some surprise, many conversations--one of which has beenreported verbatim--and no little speculation, became comparativelyunimportant as soon as it became evident that nothing would come of it.She apparently expected nothing. He was evidently not going to playfootsie with, or show any favoritism whatever toward, any woman aboardthe ship.

  Thus, it was not surprising to anyone that, at an evening show, Templesat beside Hilton, as close to him as she could get and as far away aspossible from everyone else.

  "You can talk, can't you, Jarvis, without moving your lips and withoutanyone else hearing you?"

  "Of course," he replied, hiding his surprise. This was somethingcompletely new and completely unexpected, even from unpredictable TempleBells.

  "I want to apologize, to explain and to do anything I can to straightenout the mess I've made. It's true that I joined the project because I'veloved you for years--"

  "You have nothing to ..."

  "Let me finish while I still have the courage." Only a slight tremor inher almost inaudible voice and the rigidity of the fists clenched in herlap betrayed the intensity of her emotion. "I thought I could handle it.Damned fool that I was, I thought I could handle anything. I was sure Icould handle _myself_, under any possible conditions. I was going to putjust enough into the act to keep any of these other harpies from gettingher hooks into you. But everything got away from me. Out here workingwith you every day--knowing better every day what you are--well, that_Rigoletto_ episode sunk me, and now I'm in a thousand feet over myhead. I hug my pillow at night, dreaming it's you, and the fact that youdon't and can't love me is driving me mad. I can't stand it any longer.There's only one thing to do. Fire me first thing in the morning andsend me back to Earth in a torp. You've plenty of grounds ..."

  "_Shut--up._"

  * * * * *

  For seconds Hilton had been trying to break into her hopeless monotone;finally he succeeded. "The trouble with you is, you know altogether toodamned much that isn't so." He was barely able to keep his voice downand his eyes front. "What do you think I'm made of--superefract? Ithought the whole performance was an act, to prove you're a better manthan I am. _You_ talk about dreams. Good God! You don't know what dreamsare! If you say one more word about quitting, I'll show you whether Ilove you or not--I'll squeeze you so hard it'll flatten you out flat!"

  "Two can play at that game, sweetheart." Her nostrils flared slightly;her fists clenched--if possible--a fraction tighter; and, even in thedistorted medium they were using for speech, she could not subduecompletely her quick change into soaring, lilting buoyancy. "Whileyou're doing that I'll see how strong your ribs are. Oh, how thischanges things! I've never been half as happy in my whole life as I amright now!"

  "Maybe we can work it--if I can handle my end."

  "Why, of course you can! And happy dreams are nice, not horrible."

  "We'll make it, darling. Here's an imaginary kiss coming at you. Gotit?"

  "Received in good order, thank you. Consumed with gusto and returned inkind."

  The show ended and the two strolled out of the room. She walked nocloser to him than usual, and no farther away from him. She did nottouch him any oftener than she usually did, nor any whit moreaffectionately or possessively.

  And no watching eyes, not even the more than half hostile eyes of SandraCummings or the sharply analytical eyes of Stella Wing, could detect anydifference whatever in the relationship between worshipful adulatressand tolerantly understanding idol.

  * * * * *

  The work, which had never moved at any very fast pace, went more andmore slowly. Three weeks crawled past.

  Most of the crews and all of the teams except the First were working onside issues--tasks which, while important in and of themselves, had verylittle to do with the project's main problem. Hilton, even withoutSandra's help, was all caught up. All the reports had been analyzed,correlated, cross-indexed and filed--except those of the First Team.Since he could not understand anything much beyond midpoint of the firsttape, they were all reposing in a box labeled PENDING.

  The Navy had torn fifteen of the Oman warships practically to pieces,installing Terran detectors and trying to learn how to operate Omanmachinery and armament. In the former they had succeeded very well; inthe latter not at all.

  Fifteen Oman ships were now out in deep space, patrolling the void instrict Navy style. Each was manned by two or three Navy men and severalhundred Omans, each of whom was reveling in delight at being able to doa job for a Master, even though that Master was not present in person.

  Several Strett skeleton-ships had been detected at long range, but thedetections were inconclusive. The things had not changed course, orindicated in any other way that they had seen or detected the Omanvessels on patrol. If their detectors were no better than the Omans',they certainly hadn't. That idea, however, could not be assumed to be afact, and the detections had been becoming more and more frequent.Yesterday a squadron of seven--the first time that anything exceptsingles had appeared--had come much closer than any of the singles hadever done. Like all the others, however, these passers-by had not paidany detectable attention to anything Oman; hence it could be inferredthat the skeletons posed no threat.

  But Sawtelle was making no such inferences. He was very firmly of theopinion that the Stretts were preparing for a massive attack.

  Hilton had assured Sawtelle that no such attack could succeed, and Larryhad told Sawtelle why. Nevertheless, to keep the captain pacified,Hilton had given him permission to convert as many Oman ships as heliked; to man them with as many Omans as he liked; and to use ships andOmans as he liked.

  Hilton was not worried about the Stretts or the Navy. It was the FirstTeam. It was the bottleneck that was slowing everything down to a crawl... but they knew that. They knew it better than anyone else could, andfelt it more keenly. Especially Karns, the team chief. He had beendriving himself like a dog, and showed it.

  Hilton had talked with him a few times--tried gent
ly to make him take iteasy--no soap. He'd have to hunt him up, the next day or so, and slug itout with him. He could do a lot better job on that if he had somethingto offer ... something really constructive....

  That was a laugh. A very unfunny laugh. What could he, Jarvis Hilton, aspecifically non-specialist director, do on such a job as that?

  Nevertheless, as director, he would _have_ to do something to help TeamOne. If he couldn't do anything himself, it was up to him to jugglethings around so that someone else could.