80

As noted before, Janus Pitt did not often allow himself the luxury of self-pity. In anyone else, he would consider such a thing a despicable sign of weakness and self-indulgence. There were, however, times when he sadly rebelled at the fact that the people of Rotor were only too willing to leave all of the unpleasant decisions to him.

There was a Council, yes - duly elected, and meticulously involved in passing laws and in making decisions - all but the important ones, the ones that dealt with the future of Rotor.

That was left to him.

It was not even consciously left to him. The matters of importance were simply ignored, simply rendered nonexistent by mutual unspoken agreement.

Here they were in an empty system, leisurely building new Settlements, absently convinced that time stretched infinitely before them. Everywhere was the calm assumption that once they had filled this new asteroid belt (generations from now, and a matter of no immediate concern to anyone presently alive) the hyper-assistance technique would have improved to the point where it would be comparatively easy to seek out and occupy new planets.

Time existed in plenty. Time blended into eternity.

Only to Pitt himself was it left to consider the fact that time was short, that at any given moment, without warning, time might come to an end.

When would Nemesis be discovered back in the Solar System? When would some Settlement decide to follow

Rotor's lead?

It had to come someday. With Nemesis inexorably moving in the direction of the Sun, it would eventually reach that point - still far distant, of course, but close enough - at which the people of the Solar System would have to be blind not to see it.

Pitt's computer, with the aid of a programmer who was convinced he was working out a problem of academic interest only, had estimated that by the end of a thousand years, the discovery of Nemesis would be inevitable, and that the Settlements would begin to disperse.

Pitt had then put the question: Would the Settlements come to Nemesis?

The answer was no. By that time, hyper-assistance would be far more efficient, far cheaper. The Settlements would know more about the nearer stars - which of them had planets, and what kind. They would not bother with a red dwarf star, but would head out for the

Sun-like stars.

And that would leave Earth itself, which would be desperate. Afraid of space, clearly degenerate already, and sinking farther into slime and misery as a thousand years passed and the doom of Nemesis became apparent, what would they do? They could not undertake long trips. They were Earthpeople. Surfacebound. They would have to wait for Nemesis to get reasonably close. They could not hope to go anywhere else.

Pitt had the vision of a ramshackle world trying to find security in the more tightly held system of Nemesis, trying to find refuge in a star with a system built tightly enough together to hold in place while it was destroying that of the Sun it passed.

It was a terrible scenario, and yet inevitable. Why could not Nemesis have been receding from the Sun? How everything would be changed. The discovery of Nemesis would have become somewhat less likely with time and, if the discovery came to pass, Nemesis would become ever less desirable - and less possible - as a place of refuge. If it were receding, Earth would not even need a refuge.

But that was not the way it was. The Earthmen would come; ragtag degenerating Earthmen of every variety of makeshift and abnormal culture, flooding in. What could the Rotorians do but destroy them while they were still in space? But would they have a Janus Pitt to show them that there was no choice but that? Would they have Janus Pitts, between now and then, to make sure that Rotor had the weapons and the resolution to prepare for this and to do it when the time came?

But the computer's analysis was, after all, a deceitfully optimistic one. The discovery of Nemesis by the Solar System must come about within a thousand years, said the computer. But how much within? What if the discovery came tomorrow? What if it had come three years ago? Might some Settlement, groping for the nearest star, knowing nothing useful about farther ones, be following in Rotor's trail now?

Each day, Pitt woke up wondering: Is this the day?

Why was this misery reserved for him? Why did everyone else sleep quietly in the lap of eternity, while only he himself was left to deal each day with the possibility of a kind of doom?

He had done something about it, of course. He had set up a Scanning Service throughout the asteroid belt, a body whose function it was to supervise the automated receptors that constantly swept the sky, and to detect at as great a distance as possible the copious waste-energy disposal of an approaching Settlement.

It had taken some time to set it all up properly, but for a dozen years now, every scrap of dubious information had been followed up, and, every once in a while, something seemed sufficiently questionable to be referred to Pitt. And every time it happened, it set off the clanging of an alarm bell in Pitt's head.

It turned out always to be nothing - so far - and the initial relief was always followed by a kind of rage against the Scanners. If anything was uncertain, they washed their hands of it, let it go, turned it over to Pitt. Let him deal with it, let him suffer, let him make the hard decisions.

It was at this point that Pitt's self-pity became lachrymose, and he would begin to stir uneasily at the possibility that he might be showing weakness.

There was this one, for instance. Pitt fingered the report that his computer had uncoded, and that had inspired this mental self-pitying survey of his own continuous, unbearable and underappreciated service to the Rotorian people.

This was the first report that had been referred to him in four months, and it seemed to him that it was of minimal importance. A suspicious energy source was approaching, but allowing for its probable distance, it was an unusually small source - a smaller source by some four orders of magnitude than one would expect of a Settlement. It was a source so small that it was all but inseparable from noise.

They might have spared him this. The report that it was of a peculiar wavelength pattern that seemed to make it of human origin was ridiculous. How could they tell anything about a source so weak - except that it was not a Settlement, and therefore could not be of human origin, whatever the wavelength pattern?

Those idiot Scanners must not annoy me in this fashion, thought Pitt.

He tossed the report aside petulantly, and picked up the latest report from Ranay D'Aubisson. That girl Marlene did not have the Plague, even yet. She madly persisted in putting herself in danger in more and more elaborate ways - and yet remained unharmed.

Pitt sighed. Perhaps it didn't matter. The girl seemed to want to remain on Erythro, and if she remained, that might be as good as having her come down with the Plague. In fact, it would force Eugenia Insigna to stay on Erythro, too, and he would be rid of both of them. To be sure, he would feel safer if D'Aubisson, rather than Genarr, were in charge of the Dome and could oversee both mother and daughter. That would have to be arranged in the near future in some way that would not make Genarr a martyr.

Would it be safe to make him Commissioner of New Rotor? That would certainly rate as a promotion and he would be unlikely to refuse the position, especially since, in theory, it would place him on an even rank with Pitt himself. Or would that give Genarr a bit too much of the reality of power in addition to the appearance? Was there an alternative?

He would have to think of it.

Ridiculous! How much easier it would all have been if that girl Marlene had only done something as simple as getting the Plague.

In a spasm of irritation at Marlene's refusal to do so, he picked up the report on the energy source again.

Look at that! A little puff of energy and they bothered him with it. He wasn't going to stand for it. He punched a memo into the computer for instant transmission. He was not to be bothered by minutiae. Keep an eye out for a Settlement!

81

Onboard the Superluminal, the discoveries came like a series of hammer blows, one after the other.

They were still at a great distance from the Neighbor Star when it became apparent that it possessed a planet.

'A planet!' said Crile Fisher with tense triumph. 'I knew-'

'No,' said Tessa Wendel hastily, 'it's not what you think. Get it through your head, Crile, that there are planets and planets. Virtually every star has some sort of planetary system or other. After all, more than half the stars in the Galaxy are multiple-star systems, and planets are just stars that are too small to be stars, you see. This planet we see isn't habitable. If it were habitable, we wouldn't see it at this distance, especially in the dim light of the Neighbor Star.'

'You mean, it's a gas giant.'

'Of course it is. I would have been more surprised if there hadn't been one than at finding out that one exists.'

'But if there's a large planet, there may be small planets, too.'

'Maybe,' conceded Wendel, 'but scarcely habitable ones. They'll either be too cold for life, or their rotation will be locked and they'll be showing only one side to the star, which would make it too warm on one side and too cold on the other. All that Rotor could do - if it were here - would be to place itself in orbit around the star, or possibly around the gas giant.'

'That might be exactly what they've done.'

'For all these years?' Wendel shrugged. 'It's conceivable, I suppose, but you can't count on it, Crile.'

82

The next blows were more startling ones.

'A satellite?' said Tessa Wendel. 'Well, why not? Jupiter has four sizable ones. Why should it be surprising that this gas giant has one?'

'It's not a satellite like any that exists in the Solar System, Captain,' said Henry Jarlow. 'It's roughly the size of Earth - from the measurements I've been able to make.'

'Well,' said Wendel, maintaining her indifference, 'what follows from that?'

'Nothing, necessarily,' said Jarlow, 'but the satellite shows peculiar characteristics. I wish I were an astronomer.'

'At the moment,' said Wendel, 'I wish someone on the ship was, but please go on. You're not completely ignorant of astronomy.'

'The point is that since it revolves around the gas giant, it shows one face only to the gas giant, which means that all sides of it face the Neighbor Star in the course of its revolution around the gas giant. And the nature of the orbit is such that, as near as I can tell, the temperature of the world is in the liquid-water stage. And it has an atmosphere. Now I don't have all the subtleties at my fingertips. As I said, I'm not an astronomer. Still, it seems to me that there's a good chance that the satellite is a habitable world.'

Crile Fisher received the news with a wide smile. He said, 'I'm not surprised. Igor Koropatsky predicted the existence of a habitable planet. He did it without any data on the subject. It was just a matter of deduction.'

'Did Koropatsky do that? And when did he talk to you, I wonder?'

'Some time before we left. He reasoned that nothing was likely to have happened to Rotor on the way to the Neighbor Star and, since they didn't return, that they must have found a planet to colonize. And there it is.'

'And just why did he tell you this, Crile?'

Crile paused and considered, then said, 'He was interested in making certain that the planet would be explored for possible future use by Earth, when the time came for our old planet to be evacuated.'

'And why do you suppose he didn't tell me this? Do you have any idea?'

'I suppose, Tessa,' said Crile carefully, 'that he thought I would be the more impressionable of the two of us, more eager to urge that the planet be explored-'

'Because of your daughter.'

'He knew of the situation, Tessa.'

'And why didn't you tell me this?'

'I wasn't sure there was anything to tell. I felt that I might as well wait and see if Koropatsky was right. Since he was, I am now telling you. The planet must be habitable by his reasoning.'

'It's a satellite,' said Wendel, obviously in a temper.

'A distinction without a difference.'

Wendel said, 'Look, Crile. No-one seems to be considering my position in all this. Koropatsky fills you full of nonsense in order to have us explore this system and then, presumably, return to Earth with the news. Wu was anxious to have us return with news even before we reached this system. You are anxious for a reunion with your family, regardless of any wider considerations. In all this, there seems to be very little thought given to the fact that I'm the Captain and that I will make the decisions.'

Fisher's voice grew cajoling. 'Be reasonable, Tessa. What decisions are there to make? What are your choices? You say Koropatsky filled me with nonsense, but he didn't. There's the planet. Or the satellite - if you prefer. It must be explored. Its existence may mean life for Earth. This may be humanity's future home. In fact, some of humanity may be there already.'

'You be reasonable, Crile. A world can be the right size and temperature and still be uninhabitable for any of a variety of reasons. After all, suppose it has a poisonous atmosphere, or is incredibly volcanic, or has a high level of radioactivity. It has only a red dwarf star to light and warm it, and it is in the immediate neighborhood of a large gas giant. That is not a normal environment for an Earth-type world, and how will such an abnormal environment affect it?'

'It must still be explored, even if only to find out, certainly, that it is uninhabitable.'

'For that it may not be necessary to land,' said Wendel grimly. 'We'll get closer and judge better. Try, Crile, please try not to outrun the data. I couldn't bear your disappointment.'

Fisher nodded. 'I'll try- Yet Koropatsky deduced a habitable planet when everyone else told me it was totally impossible. You did, too, Tessa. Over and over. But there it is and it may be habitable. So let me hope while I can. Perhaps the people of Rotor are now on that world, and perhaps my daughter is, too.'

83

Chao-Li Wu said rather indifferently, 'The Captain is really furious. The last thing she wanted was to find a planet here - a world, I mean, since she won't allow us to call it a planet - that may be habitable. It means it will have to be explored and we'll just have to go back and report. You know that's not what she wants. This is her one and only chance to be out in deep space. Once this is over, she's through for life. Others will work on superluminal techniques; others will explore space. She'll be retired to an advisory position only. She'll hate it.'

'How about you, Chao-Li? Would you go out in space again, given a chance?' Blankowitz asked.

Wu didn't hesitate. 'I'm not sure that I want to go wandering around in space. I don't have the exploring bug. But you know- Last night, I got the queer notion I might just like to settle down here - if it's habitable. How about you?'

'Settle down here? Of course not. I don't say I'd like to be Earthbound for ever, but I'd like to be back there for a while, anyway, before striking out again.'

'I've been thinking about it. This satellite is one in - what? Ten thousand? Who would figure on a habitable world in a red dwarf system? It should be explored. I'm even willing to spend time on it and have someone else go back to Earth and take care of my priority on the gravitational effect. You'd protect my interests, wouldn't you, Merry?'

'Of course I would, Ghao-Li. And so would Captain Wendel. She has all the data, signed and witnessed.'

'So there you are. And I think the Captain is wrong to want to explore the Galaxy. She could visit a hundred stars and not see one world as unusual as this one. Why bother with quantity when you've got quality right in hand?'

'Personally,' said Blankowitz, 'I think that what bothers her is Fisher's kid. What if he finds her?'

'So what? He can take her back to Earth with him. What would that be to the Captain?'

'There's a wife involved, too, you know.'

'Do you ever hear him mention her?'

'That wouldn't mean he-'

Her mouth closed suddenly at the sound outside, and Crile Fisher walked in and nodded at the two.

Blankowitz said quickly, as though to wipe out the previous conversation, 'Has Henry finished with the spectroscopy?'

Fisher shook his head. 'I can't tell. The poor fellow is nervous. He's afraid of misinterpreting the thing, I suppose.'

Wu said, 'Come on. It's the computer that does the interpretation. He can hide behind that.'

'No, he can't!' said Blankowitz with fervor. 'I like that. You theoreticians think that all we observers do is just tend a computer, give it a stroke or two, andsay, "Nicedoggie," then read off the results. It's not so. What the computer says depends on what you put into it, and I never heard a theoretician face an observation he didn't like without blaming the observer. Never once did I hear him say, "There must be something wrong with the compu-" '

'Hold on,' said Wu. 'Let's not flood this place with recrimination. Have you ever heard me blaming observers?'

'If you didn't like Henry's observations-'

'I'd take them anyway. I don't have any theories about this world.'

'And that's why you'd take whatever he gives you.'

At this point Henry Jarlow walked in with Tessa Wendel close behind. He looked like a cloud making up its mind to rain.

Wendel said, 'Very well, Jarlow, we're all here. Now, tell us. What does it look like?'

'The trouble is,' said Jarlow, 'there isn't enough ultraviolet in the light of this weakling star to raise a sunburn on an albino. I have to work with micro-waves and that tells me, at once, that there's water vapor in the world's atmosphere.'

Wendel shrugged it off with an impatient lift of her shoulders. 'We don't need you to tell us that. A world the size of Earth in a liquid-water range of temperature would surely have water and, therefore, water vapor. That moves it one more notch toward habitability, but only one more thoroughly expected notch.'

'Oh no,' said Jarlow uneasily. 'It's habitable. No question.'

'Because of the water vapor?'

'No. I have something better than that.'

'What?'

Jarlow looked around him at the other four rather grimly, and said, 'Would you say a world was habitable if, in actual fact, it was inhabited?'

'Yes, I think I could bring myself to say that,' said Wu calmly.

'Are you telling me that you can see that it's inhabited at this distance?' asked Wendel sharply.

'Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying, Captain. There's free oxygen in the atmosphere - and in quantity. Can you tell me how that can be without photosynthesis? And can you tell me how you can have photosynthesis without the presence of life? And can you tell me how a planet can be uninhabitable if it has oxygen-producing life on it?'

There was dead silence for a moment, then Wendel said, 'That is so unlikely, Jarlow. Are you sure you didn't mess up the programming?'

And Blankowitz quietly raised her eyebrows at Wu in an unspoken: 'See-e-e-e-e!'

Jarlow said stiffly, 'I have never messed up, as you call it, a programming in my life, but, of course, I'm willing to stand corrected if anyone here feels he is more knowledgeable about atmospheric infrared analysis than I am. It's not my field of expertise, but I did make careful use of Blanc and Nkrumah on the subject.'

Crile Fisher, who had gained considerable self-confidence since the incident involving Wu's bid to return home, did not hesitate to insert his views.

'Look,' he said, 'this will either be confirmed or denied as we get closer, but why don't we assume that Dr Jarlow's analysis is correct and see where that takes us? If there is oxygen in the atmosphere of this world, might we not assume that it's been terraformed?' All eyes turned to look at him. 'Terraformed?' said Jarlow blankly. 'Yes, terraformed. Why not? You have this world that is suitable for life, except that it has the carbon dioxide and nitrogen atmosphere that worlds without life have - like Mars and Venus - and you dump algae into the ocean and pretty soon it's "Goodbye, carbon dioxide," and "Hello, oxygen." Or maybe you do something else. I'm no expert.'

They were still looking at him.

Fisher went on. 'The reason I'm suggesting this is that I remember there was talk about terraforming on the farms on Rotor. I worked there. There were even some seminars on terraforming that I attended because I felt it might have something to do with the hyper-assistance program. It didn't, but at least I heard about terraforming.'

Finally Jarlow said, 'In all you heard about terraforming, Fisher, do you by any chance recall anyone saying how long it would take?'

Fisher spread his arms. 'You tell me, Dr Jarlow. It will save time, I'm sure.'

'All right. It took Rotor two years to get here - if it got here. That means it's been here thirteen years. If all of Rotor were solid algae and it was all dumped into the ocean and lived and grew and produced oxygen, then to get to the present level, where I estimate the oxygen content is 18 per cent and carbon dioxide is present only in traces, I would imagine it would take some thousands of years. Perhaps hundreds of years - if conditions were enormously favorable. It certainly would take more than thirteen years. And, frankly, Earth algae are adapted to Earth conditions quite precisely. On another world, the algae might not grow, or might do so very slowly, till it adapted itself. Thirteen years wouldn't change a thing.'

Fisher seemed unperturbed. 'Ah, but there is lots of oxygen there and no carbon dioxide, so if it's not the result of Rotorian action, what is it the result of? Doesn't it strike you that we must assume there's non-Earthly life on this world?'

'It's what I did assume,' said Jarlow.

Wendel said, 'It's what we have to assume immediately. Native vegetation is photosynthesizing. It doesn't mean, for one moment, that Rotorians are on the world, or that they ever even reached this system.'

Fisher looked annoyed. 'Well, Captain,' he said with pointed formality, 'I have to say that neither does it mean that Rotorians aren't on the world, or that they haven't reach the system. If the planet has vegetation of its own, it just means that no terraforming was required and the Rotorians could move right in.'

'I don't know,' said Blankowitz. 'I should think there would be no reasonable chance at all that vegetation evolving on a strange planet would be nourishing to human beings. I doubt that human beings could digest it, or that they could assimilate even if they could digest it. I would certainly offer high odds that it would be poisonous. And if there's plant life, there's bound to be animal life, and we don't know what that would entail.'

'Even in that case,' said Fisher, 'it's still possible that the Rotorians would fence off a tract of land, kill the native life within it, and seed plants of their own. I imagine this alien planting - if you want to call it that - would expand with the years.'

'Supposition on supposition,' muttered Wendel.

'In any case,' said Fisher, 'it's completely useless to sit here and make up scenarios, when the logical thing is to explore the world as best we can - and from as close a view as possible. Even from its surface - if that seems feasible.'

And Wu said with surprising force, 'I completely agree.'

Blankowitz said, 'I'm a biophysicist, and if there's life on the planet, then whatever else it may have or may not have, we must explore it.'

Wendel looked from one to the other and, reddening slightly, said, 'I suppose we must.'

84

'The closer we get,' said Tessa Wendel, 'and the more information we gather, the more confusing it all is. Is there any question that this is apparently a dead world? There is no illumination on the night hemisphere; there are no signs of vegetation or of any form of life.'

'No gross signs,' said Wu coolly, 'but something must be happening to keep oxygen in the air. Not being a chemist, I can't think of any chemical process that would do the trick. Can anyone?'

He scarcely waited for an answer. 'In fact,' he went on, 'I seriously question whether a chemist could come up with a chemical explanation. If the oxygen is there, it must be a biological process that produces it. We just don't know of anything else.'

Wendel said, 'If we say that, then we're judging from our experience with exactly one oxygen-containing atmosphere - Earth's. Someday we may be laughed at. It may turn out that the Galaxy is littered with oxygen atmospheres that have no connection with life, and we'll be on record as having been stymied entirely because of our experience with the one planet that is a freak and has a biological source of the oxygen.'

'No,' said Jarlow angrily. 'You can't get out of it that way, Captain. You can picture all sorts of scenarios, but you can't expect the laws of nature to change for your convenience. If you want to have a nonbiological source of an oxygen-containing atmosphere, you have to suggest a mechanism.'

'But,' said Wendel, 'there's no sign of chlorophyll in the light reflected from the world.'

'Why should there be?' said Jarlow. 'The chances are that a somewhat different molecule has been evolved under the selective pressure of light from a red dwarf star. May I make a suggestion?'

'Please do,' said Wendel bitterly. 'It seems to me you do nothing else.'

'Very well. All we can actually tell is that the land areas of the world seem to be completely denuded of life. That means nothing. Until four hundred million years ago, Earth's land areas were similarly sterile, but the planet had an oxygen atmosphere and abundant life.'

'Sea life.'

'Yes, Captain. There's nothing wrong with sea life. And that would include algae or the equivalent - microscopic plants that would do perfectly well as oxygen factories. The algae in Earth's seas produce 80 per cent of the oxygen that pours into the atmosphere each year. Doesn't this explain everything? It explains the oxygen atmosphere and it also explains the apparent lack of land life. It also means we can safely explore the planet by landing on the sterile land surface of the world and studying the sea with what instruments we have - leaving it for a later expedition, suitably equipped, to do the detailed work.'

'Yes, but human beings are land animals. If Rotor had reached this system, they would surely have attempted to colonize the land areas and of such colonization there is no hint. Is it really necessary to investigate the world further?' the Captain asked.

'Oh yes,' said Wu quickly. 'We can't go back with deductions only. We need some facts. There may be surprises.'

'Do you expect any?' asked Wendel with a touch of anger.

'It doesn't matter whether I do or not. Can we go back to Earth and tell them that - without looking - we were sure there would be no surprises? That would not be very sensible.'

'It seems to me,' said Wendel, 'that you've changed your mind rather drastically. You were ready to return without even approaching the Neighbor Star.'

'As I recall,' said Wu, 'I had my mind changed for me. In any case, under the circumstances, we must explore. I know, Captain, that there is a certain temptation to seize the opportunity to visit a few other star systems, but now that there is an apparently habitable world in view, we must come back to Earth with maximum information on something that may be far more important to our planet in a very practical sense than any amount of catalogue-type information concerning the nearer stars. Besides' - and he pointed at the viewport with what was almost surprise on his face - 'I want to take a closer look at that world. I have this feeling it will be completely safe.'

'This feeling?' said Wendel sardonically.

'I'm allowed my intuitions, Captain.'

Merry Blankowitz said in a rather husky voice, 'I have my intuitions, too, Captain, and I'm worried.'

Wendel looked at the young woman with sudden surprise. She said, 'Are you weeping, Blankowitz?'

'No, not really, Captain. I'm just very upset.'

'Why?'

'I've been using the ND.'

'The neuronic detector? On that empty world? Why?'

Blankowitz said, 'Because I came here to use it. Because that's my function.'

'And the results are negative,' said Wendel. 'I'm sorry, Blankowitz, but if we visit other star systems, you'll have other chances.'

'But that's just it, Captain. The results are not negative. I detect intelligence on the world and that's why I'm upset. It's a ridiculous result, and I don't know what's wrong.'

Jarlow said, 'Perhaps the device isn't working. It's so new that it wouldn't be surprising if it weren't reliable.'

'But why isn't it working? Is the neuronic detector detecting us here on the ship? Or is it simply giving a false positive? I've checked it. The shielding is in perfect order, and if I had a false positive, I ought to have it elsewhere. There are no signs of any positive responses from the gas giant, for instance, or from the Neighbor Star, or from random points in space, but every time I allow it to sweep the satellite, I get a response.'

'You mean,' said Wendel, 'that on this world, where we can detect no life, you detect intelligence?'

'It's a very minimal response. I can just barely pick it up.'

Crile Fisher said, 'Actually, Captain, what about Jarlow's point? If there's life in the world's ocean and we don't detect it because the water's opaque, there might still be intelligent life, and perhaps Dr Blankowitz detects that.'

Wu said, 'Fisher has a good point. After all, life in the sea - however intelligent - is not likely to have a technology. You can't have fire in the sea. Nontechnological life does not make itself very evident, but it may still be intelligent. And a species, however intelligent, is not to be feared without technology, especially if it can't leave the sea, and if we remain on land. It just makes things more interesting and makes it more necessary for us to investigate.'

Blankowitz said in annoyance, 'You all talk so quickly and so endlessly that I don't get a chance to say anything. You're all wrong. If it were intelligent sea life, I would get a positive response only from the oceans. I get it everywhere, just about evenly. Land as well as sea. I don't understand it at all.'

'On land as well?' said Wendel, clearly incredulous. 'Then there must be something wrong.'

'But I can't find anything wrong,' said Blankowitz. 'That's what's so upsetting. I just don't understand this.' Then, as though in extenuation, she added, 'It's very feeble, of course, but it's there.'

Fisher said, 'I think I can explain it.' All eyes turned to him, and he grew immediately defensive. 'Maybe I'm not a scientist,' he said, 'but that doesn't mean I can't see something that's pretty plain. There's intelligence in the sea, but we can't see it because the water hides it. All right, that makes sense. But there's intelligence on land, too. Well, that's hidden also. It's underground.'

'Underground?' said Jarlow explosively. 'Why should it be underground? There's nothing wrong with the air or with the temperature or with anything we can detect. What's here to hide from?'

'From the light, for one thing,' said Fisher forcefully. 'I'm talking about the Rotorians. Suppose they did colonize the planet. Why would they want to remain under the red light of the Neighbor Star, light in which their Rotorian plant life would not flourish, and under which they themselves would grow despondent? Underground, they could have artificial lighting and both they and their plants would be better off. Besides-'

He paused and Wendel said, 'Go on. What else?'

'Well, you have to understand the Rotorians. They live on the inside of a world. It's what they're used to and what they consider normal. They wouldn't find it comfortable to cling to the outside skin of a world. They would dig underneath, as a matter of course.'

Wendel said, 'Then you're suggesting that Blankowitz's neuronic detector is detecting the presence of human beings under the surface of the planet.'

'Yes. Why not? It's the thickness of the soil between their caverns and the surface that weakens the response the neuronic detector is measuring.'

Wendel said, 'But Blankowitz gets more or less the same response over both land and sea.'

'Over the entire planet. It's very even,' said Blankowitz.

'All right,' said Fisher. 'Native intelligence in the sea, Rotorians underground on land. Why not?'

'Wait,' said Jarlow. 'You get a response everywhere, Blankowitz. Right?'

'Everywhere. I've detected some slight ups and downs, but the response is so shallow I can't really be sure. Certainly, there seems to be some intelligence everywhere on the planet.'

Jarlow said, 'I suppose that's possible in the sea, but how is it possible on land? Do you suppose that Rotorians, in thirteen years, in thirteen years, have dug a network of tunnels under all the land surface of this world. If you got one area of response, or even two - small ones, taking up a tiny fraction of the world's surface - I'd consider the possibility of Rotorian burrowing. But the entire surface? Please! Tell that to my aunt Tillie.'

Wu said, 'Am I to take it, Henry, that you are suggesting that there is an alien intelligence underground everywhere on the land surface?'

Jarlow said, 'I don't see what other conclusion we can come to unless we want to conclude that Blankowitz's device is completely meaningless.'

'In that case,' said Wendel, 'I wonder if it's safe to go down and investigate. An alien intelligence is not necessarily a friendly intelligence, and the Superluminal is not equipped to make war.'

Wu said, 'I don't think we can give up. We must find out what kind of intelligent life is present, and how it might interfere - if at all - with any plans we may make to evacuate Earth and come here.'

Blankowitz said, 'There is one place where the response is a tiny bit more intense than it is everywhere else. Not much. Shall I try to find it again?'

Wendel said, 'Go ahead. Try. We can examine the surroundings there carefully and then decide whether to descender not.'

Wu smiled blandly. 'I'm sure it will be entirely safe to do so.'

Wendel merely scowled unhappily.

85

The peculiar thing about Saltade Leverett (in the opinion of Janus Pitt) was that he liked it out in the asteroid belt. Apparently, there were some people who truly enjoyed emptiness, who loved inanimacy.

'I don't dislike people,' Leverett would explain. 'I can get all I want of them on holovision - talk to them, listen to them, laugh with them. I can do everything but feel them and smell them, and who wants to do that? Besides we're building five Settlements in the asteroid belt and I can visit any one of them and get my fill of people and smell them, too, for what good that does me.'

And then, when he did come to Rotor - the 'metropolis', as he insisted on calling it - he would keep looking from one side to the other as though he expected people to crowd in on him.

He even looked at chairs suspiciously, and sat down on them with a sidewise slide as though hoping to wipe off the aura that the previous backside had left upon it.

Janus Pitt had always thought he was the ideal Acting Commissioner for the Asteroid Project. That position had, in effect, given him a free hand in everything that had to do with the outer rim of the Nemesian System. That included not only the Settlements in progress, but with the Scanning Service itself.

They had finished their lunch in the privacy of Pitt's quarters, for Saltade would sooner go hungry than eat in a dining room to which the general public (meaning even a third person who was unknown to him) would be admitted. Pitt, in fact, felt a certain surprise that Leverett had agreed to eat with him.

Pitt studied him casually. Leverett was so lean and leathery, and gave such an appearance of whipcord and gristle that he didn't look as if he had ever been young or would ever be old. His eyes were faded blue, his hair faded yellow.

Pitt said, 'When was the last time you were on Rotor, Saltade?'

'Nearly two years ago, and I take it unkindly of you to put me through this, Janus.'

'Why, what have I done? I certainly haven't summoned you here, though since you are here, old friend, you're welcome.'

'You might as well have summoned me. What's this message you sent out to the effect that you were not to be bothered with little things. Are you getting to the point where you're so big you want only big things?'

Pitt's smile grew a trifle strained. 'I don't know what you're talking about, Saltade.'

'They had a report for you. They detected a small bit of radiation coming in from outside. They sent it to you and you sent back one of your special memos about how you couldn't be bothered.'

'Oh, that!' (Pitt remembered. It had been that moment of self-pity and irritation. Surely he was allowed to be irritated at times.) 'Well, your people are watching for Settlements. They shouldn't bother me with minor matters.'

'If that's your attitude, fine. But it so happens they've found something that's not a Settlement and they don't want to report it to you. They've reported it to me, and they've requested me to pass it on to you despite your order that you are not to be bothered with minutiae. They figure it's my job to handle you, but I'd rather not, Janus. Are you becoming a cantankerous fellow in your powerful old age?'

'Don't rattle on, Saltade. What is it they've reported?' said Pitt, with more than a touch of cantankerousness about him.

'They spotted a vessel.'

'What do you mean - a vessel? Not a Settlement?' Leverett held up a gnarled paw. 'Not a Settlement. I said a vessel.'

'I don't understand.'

'What's to understand? Do you need a computer? If so, yours is right there. A vessel is a ship making its way through space, with a crew on board.'

'How large?'

'It could carry half a dozen people, I suppose.'

'Then it must be one of ours.'

'It isn't. Every one of ours is accounted for. This one is simply not of Rotorian manufacture. The Scanning Service may have been reluctant to talk to you about it, but they did some work on their own. No computer anywhere in the system has been involved with the construction of any ship like that vessel, and no-one could have built a vessel like that without computer involvement at some stage.'

'Then you conclude?'

'That it's not a Rotorian vessel. It comes from elsewhere. As long as there was the slightest chance that it might have been produced by us, my boys kept quiet and didn't disturb you, per your instructions. When it appeared, definitely, not to be one of our own, they passed it on to me and said you should be told, but that they wouldn't do it. You know, Janus, past a certain point, trampling on people is counter-productive.'

'Shut up,' said Pitt peevishly. 'How could it be non-Rotorian? Where would it come from?'

'I suppose it had to come from the Solar System.'

'Impossible! A vessel of the size you describe, with half a dozen people onboard couldn't possibly have made the trip from the Solar System. Even if they discovered hyper-assistance, and it is certainly conceivable they did, a half-dozen people at close quarters for over two years could not complete the trip alive. Maybe there are some exemplary crews, well-trained and unusually suited to the task, who could make the trip and end up at least partly sane, but nobody in the Solar System would risk it. Nothing less than a complete Settlement, a self-contained world occupied by people accustomed to it from birth, could possibly make an interstellar trip and do well.'

'Nevertheless,' said Leverett, 'we have here a small vessel of non-Rotorian manufacture. That's a fact, and you have no choice but to accept that, I promise you. Where do you say it came from? The nearest star is the Sun; that's a fact, too. If it didn't come from the Solar System, then it came from some other star system and the journey was a good deal longer than two years and a bit. If two years and a bit is impossible, everything else is certainly impossible.'

Pitt said, 'Suppose it's not human at all. Suppose these are other forms of life, with other psychologies, that can endure long trips at close quarters.'

'Or suppose they are people this big' - and Leverett held his thumb and forefinger a quarter of an inch apart - 'and that the vessel is a Settlement for them. Well - it's not so. They're not aliens. They're not teeny-weenies. That vessel isn't Rotorian, but it is human. We'd expect aliens to look completely different from human beings, and they ought to build ships completely different from those of human beings. That vessel is a human vessel right down to the serial code along its side, which is in the terrestrial alphabet.'

'You didn't say that!'

'I didn't think it needed saying.' Pitt said, 'It could be a human ship, but it could be automated. It could have robots onboard.'

'It could,' said Leverett. 'In that case, should we blow it out of the sky? If there are no human beings onboard, there are no ethical problems involved. You destroy property but, after all, they're trespassing.'

Pitt said, 'I'm considering it.'

Leverett smiled broadly. 'Don't! That vessel has not spent more than two years traveling through space.'

'What do you mean?'

'Have you forgotten the condition Rotor was in when we arrived here? We did spend over two years in passage, and half of that time we were in normal space going at just under the speed of light. At that speed, the surface was abraded by collision with atoms, molecules and dust particles. It took polishing and repairs, as I recall. Don't you remember?'

'And this ship?' said Pitt, without bothering to say whether he remembered.

'As shiny as though it had traveled no more than a few million kilometers at ordinary speeds.'

'That's impossible. Don't bother me with these games.'

'It's not impossible. A few million kilometers at ordinary speeds is all they passed through. The rest of the way - hyperspace.'

'What are you talking about?' Pitt's patience was wearing thin.

'Superluminal flight. They've got it.'

'That's theoretically impossible.'

'Is it? Well, if you can think of any other way of explaining all this, go to it.'

Pitt stared at him, open-mouthed. 'But-'

'I know. The physicists say it's impossible, but they have it, anyway. Now let me tell you this. If they have superluminal flight, they must have superluminal communication. Then the Solar System knows they're here and it knows what's happening. If we blow the ship out of the sky, the Solar System will know that, too, and, after a while, a fleet of such vessels will come out of space, and they'll come shooting at us.'

'What would you do, then?' Pitt found himself temporarily unable to think.

'What else is there to do but to greet them in friendly fashion, find out what they are, who they are, what they're doing, and what they want? Now it's my idea that they plan to land on Erythro. We'll have to land there, too, and talk to them.'

'On Erythro?'

'If they're on Erythro, Janus, where do you want us to be? We've got to confront them there. We've got to take that chance.'

Pitt felt his mind beginning to tick over again. He said, 'Since this seems to you to be necessary, would you be willing to do it? With a ship and a crew, of course.'

'You mean you won't?'

'As Commissioner? I can't come down to greet some unknown ship.'

'Beneath the official dignity. I see. So I'm to face the aliens, or the teeny-weenies, or the robots, or whatever, without you.'

'I'll be in constant contact, of course, Saltade. Voice and image.'

'At a distance.'

'Yes, but a successful mission on your part would be suitably rewarded, after all.'

'Is that so? In that case-' Leverett looked at Pitt, speculatively.

Pitt waited, then said, 'Are you going to name a price?'

'I am going to suggest a price. If you want me to meet this vessel on Erythro, then I want Erythro.'

'What do you mean?'

'I want Erythro as my home. I'm tired of the asteroids. I'm tired of scanning. I'm tired of people. I've had enough. I want a whole empty world. I want to build nice living quarters, get food and necessaries from the Dome, have my own farm and my own animals if I can coax them to do well.'

'How long have you wanted this?'

'I don't know. It's been growing on me. And since I came here and have gotten a good look at Rotor with its crowds and noise, Erythro looks better than ever to me.'

Pitt frowned. 'That makes two of you. You're just like that mad girl.'

'What mad girl?'

'Eugenia Insigna's daughter. You know Insigna, I suppose.'

'The astronomer? Of course. I haven't met her daughter.'

'Completely mad. She wants to stay on Erythro.'

'I don't consider that mad. I consider that very sensible. In fact, if she wants to say on Erythro, I could endure a woman-'

Pitt held up a finger. 'I said "girl".'

'How old is she?'

'Fifteen.'

'Oh? Well, she'll get older. Unfortunately, so will I.'

'She's not one of your raving beauties.'

'If you'll take a good look, Janus,' said Leverett, 'neither am I. You have my terms.'

'You want it officially recorded in the computer?'

'Just as a formality, eh, Janus?'

Pitt did not smile. 'Very well. We'll try to watch where that vessel lands, and we'll make you ready for Erythro.'

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