on those would have been agonising. As it was, he felt as

 

though he had been seized by the ear-lobe in a pair of

 

red-hot pincers, and screamed, and incontinently fled

 

back towards the door.

 

And that was where they gassed him down, but not

 

before he had acquired a dose of hard radiation sufficient

 

to strip the other half of his head bare of his prized black

 

hair.

 

"We got him," Nole said unnecessarily as the limp

 

body was placed on a trolley for removal to the wards.

 

"But he'll be one sick boy for at least a week."

 

"You're an idiot, Nole," Langenschmidt said in a tone-

 

less voice. "That's only the start of the trouble. How

 

about the family he's said to have left in Grarignol?

 

Now we'll have to send them some sort of relief, and if

 

we don't gauge it exactly right we'll have half the poor

 

fisherfolk of the planet begging for handouts to match

 

those given to this one family . . . Hell, that's my worry,

 

and it can wait for tomorrow. I'm getting tired, you

 

know? I've had a pretty wearing time lately, and dealing

 

with emergencies when I ought to be catching up on lost

 

sleep isn't helping me any! "

 

Nole hesitated. "Uh don't you want to know about

 

the data I got on Kolb's leg?"

 

It seemed like last year, instead of an hour earlier,

 

when they had set out to the computing room to inspect

 

these carious findings. Langenschmidt ran a weary hand

 

through his hair.

 

"Okay, I guess so. But there's not much point, really. I

 

can hardly take any action before the morning, and even

 

thenoh. I'm rambling! Hurry up, then, before I keel

 

over and take my nap on the floor!"

 

Following him down the corridor with Nole, Madda-

 

lena found herself regretting that she had. ever uttered

 

her contrary opinion when Langenschmidt told her

 

about the ZRP controversy. The pleasure he had felt on

 

seeing her had masked the toll the problem had taken

 

from him. Now, she was coming to realise that if it af-

 

fected him so deeply she had no right to judge it on the

 

basis of her own miserable experience on a single ZRP

 

which, after all, she had chosen herself, with her eyes

 

open.

 

"Here's the print-out," Nole said, with a kind of eager

 

nervousness perhaps intended to disguise his embarrass-

 

ment at letting the Dyge boy get out of his room and

 

cause so much bother. "You'll see it come in three sec-

 

tions. First off, I asked for a local identificationin other

 

words, for a likely point of origin on Cyclops."

 

"And got a zero reading, hm?" Langenschmidt's brow

 

was furrowing; he seemed to have recovered a little

 

from his fit of exhaustion.

 

"That's right. The gene-type is non-Cyclopean, yoa

 

may take that as definite. His other leg, from which I

 

took a comparison sample, is local and quite common.

 

"Now the memory does contain a list of those

 

worldssome eight or ten of them, I believewhere do-

 

nor-grafting is still accepted medical practice. Some cul-

 

tures regard it as an honorable thing to permit part of

 

one's body to continue in service after one's death. But

 

there's nowhere within about thirty parsecs where this

 

applies.

 

"Anyway, I got another zero out of that line of in-

 

quiry. So I set for all-galaxy parameters, and I got non-

 

sense!"

 

He made an impatient gesture at the print-out, and

 

Langenschmidt read it through very slowly and care-

 

fully.

 

"How many's that? Ninety-some worlds.?" he grunted.

 

"Ninety-twobut blazes, look at them, will you?

 

Highest probability, which isn't a match even so, is

 

Earth! And who would conceivably have got Kolb a

 

limb-graft from Earth?"

 

"What do you think, Maddalena?" Langenschmidt de-

 

manded.

 

"Unless things have changed beyond belief," Mad-

 

dalena said slowly, "no Earthborn person would consider

 

letting part of his body be exported after death."

 

"But that's not the whole story!" Nole rapped. "The

 

computer was hesitant about assigning these locations.

 

The correspondence is marginal. And the direction in

 

which the variations are significant is ridiculous! I could

 

print the information if you want, but it's highly techni-

 

cal."

 

"We'll take your word," Langenschmidt said. "Just

 

make it a bit clearer, will you?"

 

"Welluhone could say that the direction of the

 

anomalies is away from the human."

 

There was a puzzled silence. Maddalena broke it. "It

 

couldn't be a synthesised prosthetic, could it? I've never

 

heard of such a thing, but it seems a reasonable sugges-

 

tion."

 

Impressed, Nole gave a nod. "Yon mean a limb syn-

 

thesised to an approximate specification, instead of regen-

 

erated to make a match with the opposite limb? It could

 

be, it just conid."

 

"But is there anywhere to your knowledge where such

 

a technique is employed?" Langenschmidt asked.

 

"No . . . Though with the log)am we have in scien-

 

tific communication these days, that's not conclusive. If

 

you like, I'll have the data sifted and give you a verdict

 

jn the morning."

 

"You do that," Langenschmidt sighed. "Right now, I

 

want to call it a day. I'm sorry I fouled up your first

 

evening here, Maddalena, because I was really intending

 

to give you a good time."

 

"What? Oh!" Maddalena had clearly not been listen-

 

ing. "That doesn't matter, Gus. But before we go, can I

 

just check out another idea I had a moment ago?"

 

"Why not?"

 

Maddalena looked at Nole. "Can you fix an Earthside

 

location with your equipment? In other words, can you

 

determine the areas where the correspondence is closest?"

 

"Earth's population is pretty damned mixed," Nole

 

said, staring. "After all, every single gene-type in the

 

galaxy is found there, barring a few late mutations."

 

"I'm pretty mixed myself," Maddalena agreed impa-

 

tiently. "Iberian, Amerind, and who knows what? But

 

check, will you?"

 

Nole shrugged and put the question to the machine.

 

"Below the limit of acceptable probability," he an-

 

nounced. The closest approach isuh how do you pro-

 

nounce that? Iran, would it be?"

 

"Gus," Maddalena said, barely audible, "there was a

 

second language on Zarathustra, wasn't there?"

 

"Of course there was! You've been speaking a bastard

 

cross between Irani and Galactic for the past twenty"

 

Langenschmidt broke off, his face going milk-pale.

 

"Dr Nole," Maddalena pursued, "did you compute

 

your findings with non-civilised gene-types as well as

 

civilised? I'll wager you didn't!" A trifle maliciously, she

 

added, "I'm referring, of course, to the ZRP's."

 

Nole gave a strangled gasp and revised his instructions

 

to the machine. Almost instantly there was a fresh

 

print-out.

 

"Probability seventy per cent plus or minus two," he

 

reported. "No, I'm afraid you're wrong, in that case

 

which is a relief. The reading would have to exceed

 

eighty to be actionable."

 

"Even if we turn out to be dealing with ZRP Number

 

Twenty-two?" Maddalena said softly.

 

There was a frozen pause. Then Langenschmidt

 

clapped his hands and exploded. "Maddalena, how have I

 

managed without you for all this time? Nole, where the

 

hell is the nearest communicator? Maddalena, you're a

 

geniusdamn you!"

 

xn

 

 

Looldng slightly- dazed, Nole stared at Maddalena

 

while Langenschmidt waited for his communicator con-

 

nection to be made.

 

"NumberTwenty-two," he said, as though weighing

 

the statement for some elusive additional meaning. "I'm

 

sorry, but I'm not yet sure what you mean."

 

"Oh, come now!" Maddalena snapped. "If you weren't

 

so worried about Gus's threat to have your hide for let-

 

ting the fisherboy get loose, you'd have seen it before I

 

did. That leg of Kolb isn't regenerated and it isn't origi-

 

nal. So it's got to be either a graft or a synthesised pros-

 

thetic. You said yourself you didn't know of anywhere

 

the latter technique was being applied, though it's per-

 

fectly feasible. So it's almost certainly a graft.

 

"You saidagainyou don't know of any nearby

 

worlds where they make graft material available. More-

 

over, the computer virtually rules out the chance of a

 

gene-type corresponding to the tissue of the leg occur-

 

ring on any planet near Cyclops. But it does suggest that

 

the ultimate origin of the ancestral strain might well

 

have lain in the Iran area of Earth.

 

"At the time when the Zarathustra nova took place,

 

some ten or twelve per cent of the planet's population

 

were of predominantly Irani stockenough to support

 

their own language as a minority tongue against the

 

pressure of Galactic, and to develop a Zarathustran di-

 

alect with Irani admixtures." Maddalena checked. "Stop

 

me, by the way, if I'm ploughing old ground for you."

 

Nole shook his head quickly. "Candidly, even though

 

at least half the patients who get sent here for ma)or

 

overhaul have been on the ZRP's, I've never really

 

studied the events which led to the present situation."

 

'Ton should," Maddalena said grimly. "The ZRP's are

 

the most significant single factor in this sector of the

 

galaxy. But never mindthis'll help me to get my theory

 

straight to my own satisfaction.

 

"Where was I? Oh yes. Traditions preserved on ZRP

 

One indicate that the incredible number of three thou-

 

sand ships carrying well over two million people proba-

 

bly managed to lift from Zarathustrafrom the night

 

side, which was protected from the fury of the nova by

 

-the mass of the planet for several hours after its incep-

 

tion.

 

"We've located to date twenty-one refugee planets on

 

which people have at least survived, even if only at the

 

most primitive level. But these account between them for

 

a mere ten per cent of the rumoured three thousand

 

ships which got awayin fact, just about three hundred

 

and six. On ZRP One, for instance, we know that pre-

 

cisely two ships landed; on Fourteen, only one. On Thir-

 

teen, where I've spent two decades, about sixty made

 

landingsthe first arrivals left a subradio beacon in orbit,

 

and others homed on it. Which was a disastrous mistake,

 

the casualties hit eighty per cent in the first year, and

 

despair overwhelmed the remainder to such a degree

 

they still haven't made a full psychological recovery. But

 

I'm digressing.

 

"The essential point is this. Since the episode on Four-

 

teen with which Gus and I were involved twenty-odd

 

years agothe time when a gang of Cyclopean entre-

 

preneurs were led by a failed Corps probationer to de-

 

posits of radioactive ore there, and used the local people

 

as slave labour to exploit themwe've kept so keen a

 

watch on the known ZRP's that the chance of outsiders

 

from space being able to pull another such trick is negli-

 

gible.

 

"On a hitherto undiscovered ZRP, though, all the facts

 

would fit neatly. The gene-type of that graft would

 

correspond well with an isolated group of refugees, from

 

Irani basal strains, and one of the reasons why the Corps

 

maintains its base here is that Cyclops is conveniently

 

located for the entire volume of space through which

 

the ZRP's are scattered."

 

Nole's face was haggard and pale. She broke off and

 

gave him a look inviting comment.

 

"In other words," he said, "you think someone from

 

Cyclops is using an unknown ZRP as aa spare-parts

 

bank."

 

"Exactly," Maddalena agreed.

 

"But that's murder!"

 

"Of course it is, if they're killing the original owners

 

of the organs they're taking. But don't think murder is

 

so shocking to all human beings as it is to you! Where

 

I've just come from, assassination is a recognised political

 

weaponand here on Cyclops, Gus tells me, one child in

 

eight doesn't survive its first year. When lifd is short like

 

that, it becomes cheap."

 

That was too much for Nole. A Corps medical officer

 

was of necessity dedicated to the preservation of life no

 

matter what the cost to himself. The theory Maddalena

 

had put to him was too cold-blooded for him to endure.

 

He excused himself with a whisper and headed for the

 

nearest convenience to overcome the nausea which had

 

revolted him.

 

"Where's Nole off to?" Langenschmidt demanded,

 

turning away from his communicator.

 

"By the look of him, he needs to vomit!" Maddalena

 

shrugged. "I've been explaining to him that Kolb's leg

 

was probably cut off some poor devil on a lost ZRP, and

 

he's upset."

 

"Not surprised," Langenschmidt grunted. "Though

 

he's by no means a practical manwitness what he al-

 

lowed to happen tonight!he's a nice guy at heart, and a

 

damned good doctor. But for pity's sake, Maddalena,

 

don't go spreading this notion of yours broadcast, will

 

yon? There are all lands of possibilities we have to elim

 

inate before we can act on the suggestion."

 

"Such as?" Maddalena said sourly.

 

"Well, the most likely is this one you put forward

 

yourselfthat the leg is synthetic. This would be much

 

easier to do than a normal regeneration job, you realise,

 

and probably within the capacity of medical computers

 

such as you might find here. I'm having a search of the

 

data initiated to determine whether Nole's right in say-

 

ing the practice is unknown. If it is, I'll be surprised."

 

"Why? The number of worlds which can't afford full

 

regeneration techniques is strictly limited, and of those,

 

damned few would support a short-term stopgap ar-

 

rangementthey'd rather go for the advanced method as

 

soon as possible."

 

"I guess so," Langenschmidt sighed. "Nonetheless, I'm

 

making the check. I'm also requesting the latest informa-

 

tion on all the known ZRP's. I've asked for fullest details

 

on the gene-type records which the Corps has made."

 

"But you think I'm right," Maddalena pressed him.

 

He was silent for long seconds. At last he gave a reluc-

 

tant nod.

 

"I hope you're wrong, blast it! To have another scan-

 

dal on Cyclops will give me headaches fbr the rest of my

 

tour as Commandant, and if we find out that this is a

 

collective-guilt case, so we have to administer punitive

 

measures, we shall be living here like an occupying

 

army."

 

"Is that likely?"

 

"Yes and no. The mass of the people, insofar as they

 

understand the ZRP problem, sympathise with a plight

 

which so nearly resembles their own. Otherwise Quist

 

wouldn't have popular support for her campaign against

 

the policy of non-interference, and she certainly does. So

 

a dirty business like this could scarcely be public

 

knowledgeand indeed if it were we'd have stumbled on

 

it before.

 

"But Kolb's isn't likely to be an isolated case. And we

 

still have here a top twentieth of the population who've

 

reached positions of wealth and power by ruthlessness. I

 

said this to you earlier, didn't I? And if you find being

 

callous pays, then you're quite likely to feel that some

 

primitive survivor on a ZRP isis a null quantity. Who

 

the hell cares what becomes of him so long as I'm made

 

whole?"

 

"The pattern would be similar to that in the Carrig af-

 

fair, then?" Maddalena hazarded. "A small group would

 

be in full possession of the facts, but because what they

 

have to offer is so valuable, those who benefit from it

 

won't investigate what they're gettingturn a blind eye,

 

as they say.'*

 

"What?"

 

"Turn a blind eye. It's a phrase that's survived on

 

Thirteen, where there are a good many eye afflictions. I

 

believe it's pre-galactic in origin."

 

"Prehistoric, I'd have said," Langenschmidt muttered.

 

"Except on the ZRP's, I've never seen a blind person.

 

When eyesight is so valuable, it's worth taking the trou-

 

ble to preserve."

 

"Hmmm . . ." Maddalena cocked her head. "You said

 

Kolb's isn't apt to be a unique case, didn't you? Would

 

it be possible to find out whether any of the 'top twenti-

 

eth' of the people of Cyclops have made unexpected

 

recoveries from serious injuries or illnesses lately? Failure

 

of their eyesight strikes me as a good starting-point."

 

"I must be tired," Langenschmidt said. "Or else life on

 

this damned planet has sapped my intelligence. I should

 

have thought of that myself. I'll get the matter looked

 

into in the morning. I don't think there's much I can do

 

tonight. It's gone midnight, you realise?"

 

"I've been keeping Corps time for the past few weeks

 

on an airless base-planet," Maddalena said tardy. "I've

 

got out of gear with natural day and night." But the

 

reference to the lateness of the hour made her stretch ab-

 

sent-mindedly and repress a yawn.

 

"What action do you propose talong if my guess turns

 

out to be well-founded? Will you hold Kolb here in-

 

stead of letting them take him off to this local doctor

 

Rimerley, I think the name was?"

 

"Of course not!" Langenschmidt snapped.

 

"But he's the only evidence we have"

 

"He's a two-edged sword," Langenschmidt internipt-

 

ed. "To use one of the archaic phrases you seem to like!

 

If I do hold him instead of sending him off to Rimerley,

 

it'll be like sounding an alarm bell. You can bet that Ri-

 

merley is involved, to start with. He'll signal the team

 

collecting material on the ZRP, they'll pull out instantly,

 

and even if we do locate the planet we'll never find

 

proof of any connection with Cyclops apart from a ten-

 

uous link via the gene-type of the tissue. And short of

 

finding the rest of the original owner, or his surviving

 

identical twin, we'll never bring the matter to trial."

 

"You're quite right, of course," Maddalena confirmed.

 

"Will you wait until they actually bring the new graft

 

down for him?"

 

"If we can spot that being done. Which I doubt. I ex-

 

pect we'll have to locate the ZRP and catch the collec-

 

tors red-handed. And I don't have to tell you what a )ob

 

that'll be!"

 

"I don't even see how" Maddalena checked. "Oh yes,

 

I guess it could be done, at that. It must be possible to

 

find out the high-Irani areas of Zarathustra, and compute

 

the most likely courses which ships leaving that part of

 

the planet would have followed. But it'll be the devil's

 

own problem, even then, and the search might take

 

months."

 

"Years," said Langenschmidt succinctly. "Damn it,

 

we're searching for ZRP's all the time, and if we haven't

 

found this one by now, it must be in a highly improba-

 

ble corner of space."

 

"How could the Cyclopeans have found it, do you

 

think?"

 

"Shall we ask them when we catch them?" Langen-

 

schmidt snapped, and was immediately repentant. "Sorry!

 

I didn't mean to bark at you like that."

 

"No, I'm the one who should apologise. After all, it's

 

still only a suspicion, and I've no business pestering you

 

as if it was already proven. And you are tired. I'll leave

 

you in peace. Will you have me roused in the morning

 

in time to see Kolb collected? I'd beinterested."

 

"Surely," Langenschmidt agreed, and gave her a

 

weary smile which she returned with warmth.

 

As she was walking away, he called after her.

 

"Maddalena!"

 

"Yes?"

 

"Too soon to ask your views on non-interference

 

again, hub?"

 

"Now who's treating my suspicions as a proven fact?"

 

"Right." Langenschmidt smiled again, with greater

 

naturalness this time. "Good night. Andit's good to see

 

you after all this time."

 

"In spite of all the trouble I've brought with me? I'm

 

flattered."

 

XTT

 

 

"Get away from that girl!" rasped Lors Heirndall.

 

The two members of his team who had been bending

 

over the unconscious form of Soraya jerked and spun

 

around. They had drawn back the light coverlet to ex-

 

pose her high, youthful bosom and flat firm belly, and

 

the next stage in their plan took very little deduction to

 

work out.

 

"What's wrong with you?" the older of them grunted.

 

"Are we getting a high price for virgins this trip, or

 

something? It's not going to make any odds in the long

 

run!"

 

"Get the hell out of here!" Heirndall thundered, and

 

tugged aside his black robe to reveal the butt of his en-

 

ergy gun.

 

The two men exchanged glances, shrugged, and com-

 

plied.

 

Heirndall re-belted his robe and wiped a trace of sweat

 

from his face. He dared not tell his subordinates just

 

how necessary it was to get the girl home in perfect con-

 

dition; one hint of the danger they had all been running

 

since Kolb was taken to the Corps hospital, and they

 

would desert forthwith.

 

Still, luck was on his side so far. To have got his hands

 

on the girl, the very same day he received the request

 

from Rimerley, was remarkable, and had greatly built up

 

his confidence. Of course, she was rather dark-complex-

 

ioned, like nine out of ten of the inhabitants, but there

 

were ways of eliminating the melanin secretion which

 

caused that. And in every other respect she was close to

 

perfect: the right build, the right proportions, the right

 

category as regards immunological reactions. . . Rimer-

 

ley had said, in view of the importance attaching to this

 

)ob, that he was prepared to accept far less adequate

 

material and work it over to the required specifications;

 

so much trouble would not after all be necessary.

 

He bent to spread the coverlet over Soraya again, and

 

paused with his hands grasping the cloth. Of course, it

 

was quite true that in the long run it wouldn't matter

 

no actual physical damage would result, apart from the

 

inevitable minimum, and on any world with reasonable

 

sexual standards that would have been sustained within a

 

year or two of puberty, while as to psychological dam-

 

age, that was absolutely irrelevant.

 

He blocked off the train of thought with deter-

 

mination, however, and threw the coverlet back to its

 

former position. Then he crossed the room and seated

 

himself before the carved wooden chest which concealed

 

the subspace communicator.

 

Rimerley had been waiting tensely for the call ever

 

since Kolb was brought in and he finished making his

 

checks of the man's condition. As he had expected, he

 

was in amazingly good shape considering what he had

 

been through less than one full day earlierthe Corps

 

hospital offered treatment which Rimerley simply had

 

no facilities for.

 

But the facilities he could offer had brought him im-

 

mense wealth and not inconsiderable hidden power.

 

Now was the time to use that power, to protect himself.

 

The moment the call came, he knew from the ex-

 

pression of near-gloating on Heirndall's face that the

 

worst of the risks had passed: that resulting from delay

 

in making the key proposition to Quist.

 

"You got someone?" he rapped, leaning forward ex-

 

citedly.

 

"I think so," Heirndall nodded. "I haven't yet found

 

the material for Kolb, but"

 

"The hell with that," Rimerley interrupted. "We can

 

attend to Kolb at our leisure. First we have to make sure

 

the leisure happens!" He peered at the corner of the

 

screen, where a draped body was dimly visible, slightly

 

out of focus, beyond Heirndall's shoulder. "Is that the

 

girl behind you?"

 

"That's the one. We had to bring her in by giving her

 

a phoney attack of the local killing diseasethe quakes,

 

as they call itbut she's over the symptoms now and in

 

artificial coma. In view of the circumstances, we weren't

 

able to find out much about her barring what her boy-

 

friend told us, but it is definite that she's no older than

 

her midteens, and all the items which you listed for me

 

when you put in the request appear to be satisfactory.

 

She even has the right blood-group, which I gather you

 

were worried about."

 

"Has she? That's amazing!" Rimerley felt tension go

 

out of him like air from a punctured spacesuit. "The

 

commonest groups on Cyclops seem to be the least com-

 

mon out there. I take it you're sending her home straight

 

away?"

 

"I was wondering, in view of the urgency, whether

 

we ought not to risk bringing the ship down directly to

 

some point near here. The chance of it being seen"

 

"Isn't worth taking," Rimerley cut in. "No, even if it

 

means a day's delay, transport her by inconspicuous

 

means to the usual landing-area in the hills. There re-

 

mains a slight chance of being caught, you know, and

 

the compounding what we've done by exposing a ZRP

 

to open contact with space-travel is a needless additional

 

danger."

 

"I've always assumed they'll throw the book at us if

 

they catch us," Heirndall grunted.

 

"I've had this out with you a dozen times," Rimerley

 

countered. "There are enough worlds offering voluntary

 

euthanasia for us to make a case Just a moment! Have

 

you told the girl anything?"

 

"Haven't spoken to her since we gave her the fake dis-

 

ease, of course!"

 

"Hpi . . . We'll have to convince her, for the sake of

 

appearances, that she's deathly ill and better off enjoying

 

a quiet demise."

 

"We've done that successfully more times than I can

 

count," Heirndall commented with a cynical smile.

 

"Yes, butHell, why I'm wasting time / don't know!

 

I'm going to see Quist now. Wish me luck."

 

The message was brought to Quist during the second

 

session of the day's conference. Dr Aleazar Rimerley was

 

waiting to see her at her earliest convenience.

 

Damn the man! Picking this moment to comeand in

 

person, for some inconceivable reason! A communicator

 

would have served for any message, surely!

 

She bit her lip, looking around the conference hall

 

while the servant who had brought the message waited

 

discreetly at the back of her tall chair. The morning had

 

seen the last of the differences of opinion between dele-

 

gates ironed out to acceptable levels; this afternoon,

 

there had been several much-applauded suggestions for

 

lines of action to secure a reversal of the non-interfer-

 

ence policy. Two of them even, in Quist's view, offered

 

a better-than-fifty-fifty chance of succeeding; a record.

 

Omar Haust hadn't shown up after his disgraceful ex-

 

hibition of last evening. Maybe that had something to do

 

with itdelegates from wealthy advanced worlds always

 

seemed to be uncomfortable in the presence of a genuine

 

ZRP native.

 

The speaker who had the floor at the moment sensed

 

that something was amiss. He paused courteously and

 

looked at Quist. So did everyone else.

 

Cursing again silently, but keeping her face composed,

 

she stood up.

 

"I'll beg your indulgence," she said. "A very dear

 

friendas some of you may have heardwas savaged by

 

a wolfshark yesterday."

 

A murmur of sympathy spread around the meetings,

 

she saw one or two baffled expressions, but seat-neigh-

 

bours of those who didn't know about wolfsharks soon

 

explained.

 

"I'm told that the doctor attending him wishes to see

 

me urgently. If you can forgive me?"

 

"Of course!" exclaimed a dozen voices, and she slipped

 

away with a bow.

 

Rimerley was waiting for her in an audience room

 

with delicate silver-filigree walls. The setting seemed

 

particularly appropriate to the most highly reputed med-

 

ical man on the planet, Quist thought, and her irritation

 

at being summoned away from the conference gave way

 

to anxiety at Kolb's condition. If Rimerley had come

 

here in person, that might all too easily mean bad news.

 

She said, "Doctor, is it something about?"

 

He cut her short brusquely. "Before we discuss any-

 

thing, I want your assurance that we are neither over-

 

heard nor recorded."

 

"Doctor! I assure you"

 

"Save it. I know that no one gets to the heights you've

 

scaled on a planet like ours without being very cautious

 

and far-sighted. But caution says we talk privately about

 

the matter I've come to raise with you."

 

She stared at him. Previously, Rimerley had treated

 

her with urbane courtesyeven obsequiousness. Now he

 

was addressing her not merely as an equal, but even as an

 

inferior. The last statement was an order: gift-wrapped,

 

but an order nonetheless.

 

Colouring, she snapped, "I prefer not to be spoken to

 

in those terms!"

 

"I know. But if you care about Justin Kolb, you'll

 

have to put up with it."

 

There was a pause. Finally she shrugged and crossed

 

the room to the far side. Lifting one of the elaborate fili-

 

gree decorative motifs, she exposed a small switch and

 

twisted it through ninety degrees.

 

"All right. The record will show nothing now, not

 

even the fact that I came in to join you. What is it you

 

want to say? Have youhave you attended to Jusdn

 

yet?"

 

"No. Oh, there's nothing to worry about as far as he's

 

concernedthe Corps doctors did a good first-aid job on

 

the stump and it'll heal quickly."

 

"The reference to a stump made her flinch. To cover his

 

out-of-character weakness, she countered him harshly.

 

"How soon will he be well? And why, if that's all

 

that's been done to him so far, have you left him directly

 

after taking him into your care?"

 

"There's nothing I can do until we find a graft for

 

him," Rimerley said. And waited for his meaning to sink

 

in.

 

"A graft?'* Quist listened to her own repetition of the

 

word, as if it were mere noise. "But I thought you used

 

regeneration. Isn't that what it's called?"

 

"For a woman who's been the effective government of

 

a planet for so long, you're astonishingly ignorant," Ri-

 

merley said. "I'll cheerfully regenerate the limb for

 

youif you'll buy me a megabrain-capacity medical

 

computer to do it, and pay for having it stocked with

 

the appropriate data for Cyclops. Since you can't afford

 

to do that, Kolb will have to get the same as he did be-

 

fore: a limb-graft, which is easier and cheaper."

 

"Before? You mean-"

 

"I'm coming to what I mean. And it's going to take a

 

lot of explaining, so I'd better sit down." Rimerley

 

glanced around for a chair and did as he said.

 

"Graft!" he continued. "The taking of an existing or-

 

gan and the incorporation of it into another body.

 

Clear? You gave me Justin Kolb with a leg lost to space-

 

gangrene, and I replaced it with a nearly perfect match,

 

immunologically neutral, the nerves and muscles tied in

 

as well as might be hoped. Not well enough for him to

 

endure the strain of space-side work any longer, but this

 

wasn't a drawback you'd object to in view of your

 

uh relationship."

 

"Rimerley," Quist said between clenched teeth, "I

 

don't know what you're getting at, but"

 

"Then wait till you find out!" Rimerley ordered.

 

"Yesterday that leg was being attended to by Corps doc-

 

tors. I have no way of knowing whether they looked at

 

it closely enough to determine its origin, but if they did,

 

you're in trouble. Apparently you didn't actually know

 

that limb-regeneration was beyond our facilities; it's

 

common knowledge, however, and it would be assumed

 

that you connived at what was done"

 

Quist was waving a feeble hand, floundering two sen-

 

tences behind Rimerley's urgent flow of words.

 

"Origin?" she forced out.

 

"Yes, origin. What do you think I didbought the leg

 

off some dockside layabout in Gratignol, maybe? Even a

 

starving fisherman wouldn't be likely to sell a healthy

 

limb, would he? No, it was imported. From somewhere

 

where none of the natives can spread the newsto be

 

precise, from an unnumbered ZRP."

 

Quist's mouth worked, but no sound emerged.

 

"I was going to say," Rimerley pursued, "no intelli-

 

gent outsider would credit that you, Alura Quist, imag-

 

ined I'd regenerated the leg! You must have known. And

 

what happens to your precious conference, to start with,

 

when the word gets out?"

 

The prospect of this news reaching the delegates was

 

appalling. Quist clenched her hands into bony fists.

 

"This is blackmail!" she whispered. "You won't get

 

away with it! I'll denounce you1 don't care what hap-

 

pens to Jusrin. Maybe the Corps will mend his leg when

 

I tell them about"

 

"Denounce me? It'll look like panic to save your cam-

 

paign against the Corps, and they won't fall for it!

 

Besides, the Corps will have other things on their minds.

 

After what you do to them!"

 

She gave him a blank stare.

 

"The Corps mightyes, }ust possibly might heal Jasrin

 

Kolb as a generous gesture," Rimerley conceded with a

 

judicious air. "But they won't offer you a new lease of

 

life, as I will. You're afraid of old age, aren't you?

 

You're afraid of death, and the long dark silence be-

 

yond."

 

There was something so evocative of terror in the

 

words that Quist found herself nodding numbly.

 

"So now we come to the point," Rimerley said. "The

 

proposal I have for you, which is to the advantage of

 

both of us. I don't want this story to get out, even

 

though you'd be the worst sufferer. I'm saving my own

 

skin, and I won't deny the fact. But the chance of the

 

Corps being sufficiently intrigued by Kolb's leg to make

 

investigations depends on what else they have to occupy

 

them, and you're in a position to give them a problem

 

which will drive everything else into the background

 

for good, let's hope. What's more, I see from the news

 

reports on your current conference that you've already

 

prepared the ground for what I want you to do."

 

He added, offhand, "Kolb will get his leg back too, of

 

course."

 

Quist was absolutely frozen for long moments. Finally,

 

in a voice drained of emotion, she said, "What, then?"

 

"What I offer?" Rimerley countered. "Oh, nothing

 

much. Twenty years of additional youth. Maybe fifty!"

 

Greed blazed in Quist's eyes for a moment, until it

 

was extinguished by tears. "It's a cruel joke!" she said

 

hoarsely. "It's the foulest, dirtiest"

 

"I'm not joking." Rimerley leaned back in his chair

 

with such complete calm she was again tempted to be-

 

lieve him.

 

"How?"

 

"That I'm not telling you. Yet. I'm simply making the

 

offer. Twenty years, possibly a lot more." He studied

 

her with insolent directness. "How's the unsupported

 

shape of your breasts these days? Flabby, I imagine! And

 

the belly-muscles must be giving way by now, in spite of

 

cosmetic treatment. I could fix all that."

 

Once more, silence filled the room. It dragged on and

 

dragged on. Rimerley broke it, shrugging and rising.

 

"Too bad. I didn't really expect you to prefer public

 

humiliation and probably trial for an infringement of the

 

laws against interference with ZRP's. Which will be a

 

very ironical climax to your campaign, won't it?"

 

"Wait," she whispered. "Damn you! You knew there

 

was one bribe I couldn't resist!"

 

"Of course I did," Rimerley said with a sneer.

 

"Whatwhat do I have to do? "

 

He told her, in a single crackling sentence, and added,

 

"Today!"

 

XIV

 

 

As promised, they had fetched Justin Kolb away early

 

in the morning. Maddalena saw him go, in a white-paint-

 

ed hospital 'copter which went droning towards the

 

southwest. Its design strucK her as somehow archaic, but

 

after twenty years in surroundings absolutely devoid of

 

technology beyond crude tool-making, she found she

 

was ill-attuned to refinements in engineering practice.

 

"I wish there was some way we could have put a

 

tracer on him," Langenschmidt had muttered as he stood

 

beside her, gazing at the diminishing white speck against

 

the vivid blue sky.

 

"I'd have thought there was!"

 

"I asked Nole what a reasonably thorough medical

 

check might overlook, and he said, point-blank, 'Noth-

 

ing.' Rimerley can't be incompetenthis patients have

 

included some of the most notable people on Cyclops."

 

"Did you ask Nole how it was in that case he came to

 

overlook the nature of Kolb's mended leg?"

 

"As a matter of fact"Langenschmidt looked slightly

 

uncomfortable"I did. We had some words about it. But

 

the point stands; no tracer, for fear of alerting them."

 

"Surely you know where he's going, though."

 

"Allegedly, to Rimerely's private island. But I'd be

 

happier if I was convinced of that. As you said last

 

night, he's our evidence."

 

"You've kept some tissue-samples, presumably."

 

"Nole took some from places where they wouldn't be

 

noticed, and they're preserved as a calibration standard

 

for this analysis of gene-types he's doing. At least, that's

 

our story if the matter comes up." The 'copter had van-

 

ished. Briskening: "Well, I can't stand here all day. I

 

have a base to run."

 

"I haven't," Maddalena said demurely. "And since you

 

had me brought to Cyclops, I guess there's something

 

you can have me do instead of 'standing here all day'."

 

"Actually there are a couple of things . . . I wasn't

 

very eager to ask you, since it seems unfair when

 

you're theoretically on long furlough, but as the subject

 

has come up"

 

"You're a poor diplomat, Gus, in spite of your boast-

 

ing. Well?"

 

"What spare time I have right now is generally taken

 

up with studying the progress of this damned conference

 

of Quist's. The local news bulletins are full of it,

 

painting it as an unselfish venture by Cyclops on behalf

 

of their poor brothers neglected by the rich greedy

 

worlds ofetcetera; why should I tell you what you can

 

imagine easily enough? There was some land of outburst

 

at an official banquet last nightthe delegate from ZRP

 

One got drunk and uttered a few home truths which

 

embarrassed the organisers dreadfully. Catch the reports

 

of the morning session of the conference, will you? Let

 

me have a digest of their progress if any at the noon

 

break. That's one thing. And the other is of your own

 

making. Go help my overworked programming staff to

 

get a line on the probable location of Twenty-two. We

 

probably won't get the margin of error lower than a

 

hundred parsecs, but if we can possibly shave it to fifty I

 

think I can swing the assignment of a couple of search

 

ships."

 

The problem was fascinating, and intensely compli-

 

cated. It was known what the populations distribution

 

had been on Zarathustra at the time of the nova, so it

 

was possible to determine which of the high-Irani areas

 

would have been on the day side and hence wiped out

 

immediately. On the night side, however, there were

 

three notable zones where the minority language was

 

spoken, and in any of these such a gene-type as they had

 

found in Kolb's leg might have occurred.

 

With this as a basis, it was then necessary to compute

 

whether one or two or all three stood a chance of get-

 

ting people from their homes to the nearest spaceport be-

 

fore the planet turned far enough on its axis to expose

 

the rising ships to the nova. Only those which had been

 

able to keep in shadow of the planet for several million

 

miles had escaped the storm of radiation.

 

One of the key zones had been in darkness for a full

 

seven hours; the other two, for a mere half of that.

 

Settling on that as the most likely course of events, the

 

team instructing the computers then had to work out

 

what trajectory ships would have followed to remain in

 

shadow if they had stayed till the last moment picking

 

up refugees; if they had left with an hour to spare, or

 

two hours, and so on, backward through the Zarathus-

 

tran night. And from these hypothetical lines of flight,

 

they attempted to calculate where they would have

 

wound up.

 

The process went smoothly for a while; several pos-

 

sible courses were at once ruled out because the Corps

 

had explored the volume of space through which they

 

led, to the extreme range any ship could have covered

 

with its passengers in a fit state to endure a landing. Af-

 

ter that, though, it was like plodding through heavy fog

 

and deep mud.

 

Maddalena complied vidth Langenschmidt's request to

 

hear the local news bulletins about the conference; they

 

were platitudinous, merely giving extracts from pious

 

speeches interlarded with praise for Quist's and Cyclops's

 

noble compassion towards the ZRP's. Listening, she was

 

reminded of what Langenschmidt had said last night,

 

when he asked if it was too soon to re-question her on

 

her attitude towards the non-interference policy.

 

She was no longer sure what her attitude was. And to

 

find this reaction in heiself so soon after her arrival here

 

was disturbing.

 

She was glad to lose herself again in the complexities

 

of interstellar course-plotting, and was deep in what ap-

 

peared to be a promising assumption when an argent

 

message came through to the computing room for her:

 

would she go see the commandant at once?

 

Reluctantly she complied, framing a jocular complaint

 

to utter when she saw Langenschmidt. It died on her

 

lips. One glance told her he had been badly shocked by

 

something.

 

"Gus!" she exclaimed. "You look as though you've

 

)ust heard this sun is going nova too!"

 

"Next best thing," grated Langenschmidt. "At any

 

rate, it's having the same effectwe're compelled to

 

evacuate."

 

"What?"

 

"Sit down and I'll play you back a recording of the

 

news. I couldn't trust myself to repeat it coherently." He

 

slammed switches on the desk at which he sat, and a

 

screen lit. Maddalena moved numbly to a seat from

 

which she could see it properly.

 

At first there was only a blur, with an automatic

 

voice-over signal identifying the time of reception and

 

dating it on the basic Corps scale; then the blurring

 

faded, and a harsh incisive voice with a Cyclops accent

 

rang out.

 

"Personal and official from Alura Quist to the Com-

 

mandant, Corps Galactica Repair, Refit and Recreation

 

Base, Cyclops. Alura Quist!"

 

A face appeared on the screen. Maddalena studied it

 

with interest; this was the first time she had seen the fa-

 

mous Quist, who had for so many years been undisputed

 

arbiter of this planet's fate. She saw a pretty blonde

 

woman whose best attempts to stand off the effects of

 

age had not entirely succeeded.

 

"Commandant, you will learn from the appended

 

recording of my address to the Conference on Non-in-

 

terference with Zarathustra Refugee Planets at which I

 

am currently- presiding what it is that you are required

 

to do. I only wish to add that action is to fae taken forth-

 

with to implement the decision of the government of my

 

planet."

 

The face vanished, and re-appeared, this time in the

 

context of a large conference hall, in which sat delegates

 

from worlds affecting over a dozen different styles of

 

dress. Quist was addressing them, and had clearly won

 

the approval of all those listening.

 

"You will recall," she was saying, "that the respected

 

representative from ZRP Onewho is regrettably indis-

 

posed and cannot hear me make this public pronounce-

 

mentsuggested a lever to oust the Corps from its role

 

of policy-maker in this area. I have reflected on what

 

was suggested, and come to an inescapable conclusion: it

 

is not consistent with our professed ideals to tolerate the

 

Corps's presence here while they are flouting our

 

wishes."

 

Stunned silence, from the audience in the screen and

 

from Maddalena.

 

"I therefore wish to inform you that I am serving no-

 

tice today on the base's commandant to withdraw all

 

Corps personnel from Cyclops and close the base. This

 

cannot presumably be done overnight, but it must be

 

done quickly, and in any case from this moment forward

 

the base will be quarantined, and all contact whatever

 

between Cyclops and the Corps Galactica will cease bar-

 

ring such official conversations as the evacuation may

 

call for. I-"

 

Stormy applause drowned out the remainder of the

 

statement. Langenschmidt snapped the switch to stop the

 

replay.

 

"Well?" he rapped.

 

Maddalena shook her head, dazed. "I thought you said

 

the planet couldn't afford to lose the base!"

 

"It can't. Which means the Quist woman has gone in-

 

sane. Insane or not, though, she's legally the boss of Cy-

 

clops, and when I get word from Corps HQwhich I've

 

sent forI'm damned sure they'll tell me I've got to do

 

as she orders."

 

XV

 

 

Langenschmidt's gloomy assessment of the situation

 

was justified; his own computers assured him of that

 

even before a verdict came through from headquarters.

 

No inhabited world was compelled to provide facilities

 

for the Corps. To obtain those which it needed and

 

could not adequately arrange on the airless lumps of

 

rock where most of its bases were sited, the Corps wrote

 

treaties like an independent sovereign planet. But it

 

wasn't one, and in the event of a planetary- government

 

deciding that it wished to withdraw leased territory, the

 

decision was unilateral and unarguable.

 

When the legal experts from HQ informed him of this

 

situation, Langenschmidt railed at them, demanding why

 

such a predicament had not been foreseen and guarded

 

against. There was a chilly tone in the voice of the man

 

he was talking to as he retorted that the circumstances

 

were unique and unprecedented, and after' all hethe

 

base commandant on the spothad been in the ideal posi-

 

tion to do the foreseeing.

 

Sweating, Langenschmidt cut the connection.

 

But that crack was srill ringing in his memory the next

 

morning when he went out on the main pontoon of the

 

repair docks to meet the official Cyclopean representa-

 

tive he had been warned to expect. This was a very tall,

 

very thin, very bitter young man in immaculate white

 

uniform, who stepped down the gangway from the big

 

skimmer which had brought him and even before Lan-

 

genschmidt had a chance to speak waved a brisk hand at

 

the men who had gathered on the vessel's deck as she ap-

 

proached the pontoon.

 

"My staff," he said. "Empowered by the government

 

of Cyclops to supervise the evacuation of Corps person-

 

nel."

 

Langenschmidt looked them over. In all, they num-

 

bered at least two hundred. Like a good many worlds

 

whose economy was too precarious to support full em-

 

ployment and too poor to pass the leisure barrier beyond

 

which working became irrelevant for the individual, Cy-

 

clops made the worst of both worlds by maintaining a

 

government labour force analogous to the pregalactic

 

armed forces of Earthside nation-states. These would be

 

a detachment of picked men drawn from that pool.

 

They were armed, Langenschmidt saw sickly, with

 

obsolete but doubtless workable energy guns. Quist must

 

have lost her mind!

 

"And madriel!" he snapped.

 

The tall thin young man biinked at him. "My instruc-

 

tions are not definite on that point," he replied. "I am

 

simply to see that this base is evacuated of all its person-

 

nel within a reasonable time. Unofficially, I'm to inform

 

you that the government regards seven days as reason-

 

able."

 

"Seven days!" Langenschmidt hadn't meant to let the

 

exclamation go, but he could not restrain his dismay as

 

he surveyed the immense repair docks and all the build-

 

ings beyonda complete self-contained city, with some

 

of its foundations including those under the space-drive

 

test-beds going clear to the bedrock of the planet.

 

"Seven days," the tall thin young man said, and gave a

 

cadaverous smile. "My name is Bengt Early, incidentally.

 

I hold the rank of major in the Cyclops space-force."

 

"Hold tight," Langenschmidt told him savagely.

 

"You're apt to drop it any moment."

 

He swung on his heel and signalled one of his subordi-

 

nates.

 

"This is Major Early" he snapped. "No doubt he

 

would prefer to deal with someone of his own status.

 

Certainly I'd rather he did so."

 

Early coloured bright pink, which gave Langen-

 

schmidt a moment of gloomy satisfation. But that was

 

the last such moment he enjoyed for sometime.

 

What possibilities were open to him, other than com-

 

plying with the edict of the government? His superiors

 

said there were none; ships would be detached from

 

other posts and sent to conduct the evacuation in the

 

speediest and most efficient manner available resources

 

would allow. And that was that.

 

He drove fist into palm in helpless fury. Clearly, the

 

only recourse was to overset the Quist governmentand

 

how could he do that? If only they had delayed this

 

lunatic expulsion order another couple of days, long

 

enough to pile up concrete evidence on the matter of

 

Kolb's leg!

 

Which reminded him that Maddalena hadn't shown up

 

this morning. He looked around vaguely for her, but she

 

wasn't to be seen, and immediately his other worries

 

drove her out of his thoughts.

 

Overset the Quist government . . . This was the obvi-

 

ous lever. But already, during the night, radar-carrying

 

vessels had encircled the base island, and a ship had gone

 

into stationary orbit at twenty-three thousand miles,

 

watching through sensitive detectors for any breach of

 

the rule that there was to be no contact whatever be-

 

tween the Corps and the rest of Cyclops. Even a sub-

 

mersible wouldn't get away to hunt the evidence

 

Maddalena had suggested and check on rich Cyclopeans

 

who had made miraculous recoveries lately. After all,

 

even the Bracy kid's trawler had an electronic fish-

 

finder, and submarine detectors would certainly be

 

watching the nearby waters

 

The trawler!

 

He stopped himself, by a tremendous effort, from

 

turning to look at the ramshackle craft, with its peeling

 

paint and torn solar sails which were in fact currently

 

being replaced by a robot to which no one had remem-

 

bered to give contrary orders.

 

Hmmm . . . / But the idea was only- a germ so far,

 

and there still remained his other obligations: more ines-

 

capable ones. He shelved the problem of what could be

 

done with a sure method of escape from the island, and

 

went to attend to another pressing matter. It derived

 

from one of his unsuccessful pleas to headquarters; beg-

 

ging for orders to decline Quist's ultimatum, he had

 

suggested that this was a plot to get the Cyclopeans'

 

hands on the material resources at the base, and perhaps

 

set up a commercial starship repair service with what

 

they inherited.

 

The staff of Corps HQ were sufficiently cynical for

 

that to register. But they didn't change their instructions.

 

They merely recommended the installation of a new

 

switch, radio-controlled, on the main fusion generator

 

buried at the island's heart, so that as soon as the person-

 

nel had been evacuated what was left could be reduced

 

to a smolang crater.

 

That would be a small consolation. Sighing, Langen-

 

schmidt set off to rout out his chief power engineer.

 

Maddalena had thought of the trawler much sooner

 

last night, to be precise, while restlessly trying to doze

 

off. She had also taken into consideration the fact that,

 

not being on the established strength of the Corps here,

 

she figured in the computer records only as "personnel

 

on leave" and a tap on a computer keyboard could abol-

 

ish her without explaining where she had gone.

 

These points led her to pester Nole for half an hour,

 

until in sheer desperation he allowed her what she

 

wanted: to see Bracy Dyge, in private.

 

When she opened the door of his room, the fisherboy

 

cowered back like a frightened animal, doubtless having

 

taken the shaving of his headpart of the treatment

 

necessitated by his exposure to an overdose of radia-

 

tionas a prelude to some terrible punishment for his

 

temerity last night.

 

It took all Maddalena's experience as a diplomat

 

among primitive peoples to bring him to the point where

 

he would listen to her without trembling. Time was

 

wasting; she had to seize her hard-won advantage.

 

"Bracy," she coaxed, "didn't you say when you first

 

came here that you had always dreamed of working for

 

the Corps?"

 

The boy's answer was inaudible; she had to wheedle

 

for minutes to get him to speak his mind honestly. Then

 

what he had to say was hardly promising. She damned

 

Nole for the sarcastic reception he must have given the

 

boy's reluctant plea; it had closed him up tighter than a

 

Pelagian clam.

 

She was forced to make wild promises and offer wild-

 

er bribesnot to him: for his family, which was more

 

honourablebefore she got the assurance of his help.

 

Langenschmidt wouldn't like this, but then he might

 

well not like any of it.

 

The door of the room slid aside, and there he was.

 

"Beat me to it again, did you?" he muttered.

 

Maddalena was bewildered for a moment, and then she

 

started to laugh. "You mean you thought of it too?"

 

"Of course I did!" Langenschmidt rapped. "Did you

 

expect me to lie down under the edict of this damned

 

idiot Quist? Nole told me you were down here, and I

 

immediately saw why I'd had that boat of Dyge's on my

 

mind all day, in spite of the swarm of Cyclopean officials

 

crawling over the base like bedbugs."

 

"Well, it's no good to you, is it?" Maddalena coun-

 

tered. "Your chance of staying behind on Cyclops is

 

zero."

 

"I could swing it so that"

 

"Could you, hell! The protocol of the evacuation of a

 

Corps base traces all the way back to the abandonment

 

of a sea-going ship on Earth. I'm closer to my Corps

 

training than you are, by a long way. You've probably

 

forgotten the irrelevancies you pick up in traininglike

 

that onebut there's the regulation if you care to check:

 

the commandant is the last to leave the base, and the per-

 

son responsible for handing over control to the successor

 

authority."

 

Langenschmidt gave a groan. "They planned this to

 

drive me out of my mind with frustration! But what

 

good is the boat to you?"

 

"If you'll let me finish what I was saying to young

 

Bracy here, you'll see soon enough." And, turning to the

 

fisherboy, who had listened with blank incomprehension

 

to this exchange, she resumed, "Now if you had good

 

maps, and perhaps a radio, you wouldn't mind sailing

 

half around the planet, would you?"

 

"I'd sail to the stars if I had a ship," Bracy declared

 

with a sudden fit of braggadocio.

 

"I believe you. You're a brave boy man. Anyone

 

could tell that after hearing how you killed the giant

 

wolfshark. Now here's your chance to prove it still fur-

 

ther, and to do the kind of job which will interest the

 

Corps in you, as well as earning you that new set of so-

 

lar sails, and a new set of reactors, and a radio for your

 

ship." Maddalena eyed Langenschmidt as she spoke, and

 

received a shrug to indicate that if the Corps was leaving

 

behind much of its mat6riel here at the base it could af-

 

ford to give Bracy a few such odds and ends.

 

The coaxing went on, the flattery, the cajolement.

 

Langenschmidt's mind, greatly preoccupied, went dart-

 

ing away. If only they had waited till this business of

 

Maddalena's "undiscovered ZRP" had been cleared

 

up ... Was it coincidence or not? Oh, surely it must

 

be! True, Rimerley was in the space parts trade up to his

 

neckmust be, as the surgeon who performed the graft

 

on Kolbbut surely he couldn't have a hold over Quist

 

sufficient to compel her to act this wayl The existence of

 

a link between them wasn't proof of criminal complicity.

 

Even if he was blacimiailing her because she knew the

 

source of Kolb's new leg, that alone wouldn't make her

 

jeopardise the planetary budget of Cyclops for the indef-

 

inite future. As soon as the drawbacks of losing the

 

Corps' rent began to be felt, she would be done for any-

 

way. Someone else would overthrow her government

 

and more than likely invite the Corps back. In which

 

case, perhaps he shouldn't blow up the baserepossessing

 

a workable installation was one thing, rebuilding a pile

 

of rubble was another, and progress over the past cen-

 

tury had probably made the job uneconomic.

 

Running the base here wasn't as challenging as

 

maintaining his old Patrol beat, but it had its own re-

 

wards, and he had enjoyed the work.

 

If I do leave here for good, he told himself sourly, I

 

can go two waysback to headquarters to serve as the

 

walkitlg spokesman for a computer, or out of the Corps.

 

Or eke I can jump in space.

 

He grew suddenly aware that Maddalena was ad-

 

dressing him, and muttered an apology for his rudeness.

 

"I was aslang," she repeated with a twinkle, "whether

 

you've booby-trapped the island."

 

"How did you? Oh, I guess it's an obvious precau-

 

tion. Yes, I have, but with a radio-activated trigger."

 

"Don't be in too much of a hurry to press the button,

 

then. Bracy here has just agreed to smuggle me out of

 

the area and around the world to Rimerley's private is-

 

land, and with his help I may very well give you back

 

your job when the Quist government falls in the wake

 

of the row I'm cooking up."

 

"You? " Langenschmidt said.

 

"Yes, me!" She gave him a defiant stare. "Gus, the rea-

 

son I've been hanging around making up my mind what

 

to do with my furlough is perfectly simple. I don't want

 

to 'rest up' on Earth or any other soft-centred planet.

 

I've been doing damn-all for twenty mortal years. I want

 

some action to get my blood flowing againand here it

 

comes!"

 

XVI

 

 

"What's thatobject over there?" inquired the insuf-

 

ferable Major Barly, gesturing.

 

Langenschmidt turned, hoping that his personal

 

concern with the "object" would not show. The sun lay

 

bright and full over the gloaming hulls of the vessels

 

from space currently in the repair dock, making the con-

 

trast between them and the tiny, dirty trawler all the

 

more marked. Around the fishing-boat, robots and men

 

were busy in a manner that could not be glossed over ex-

 

cept by a half-truth.

 

"That?" he said with maximum smoothness. "Oh,

 

you'll recall that Justin KolbQuist's friendwas res-

 

cued from an encounter with a wolfshark. That trawler

 

belongs to the boy who saved him. We don't want to ex-

 

acerbate relations with the populace more than we can

 

help, so we thought we'd overhaul it for him while he's

 

recovering from his experience."

 

Major Barly's opinion was clear from his expression:

 

Only idiots would concern themselves with one worth-

 

less fisherboy at a juncture like this. However, he vouch-

 

safed his gracious permission to carry on, so long as it

 

did not interfere with the speedy departure of all Corps

 

personnel.

 

It was lucky, Langenschmidt reflected, that Quist had

 

sent them a fool to supervise the evacuation. Maybe

 

there were none but fools in the Cyclopean government

 

forces, but that was doubtful. An intelligent man, Lan-

 

genschmidt suspected, would have wondered what was

 

amiss when the base commandantso gruff and ill-man-

 

nered on first meetingsuddenly turned extremely affa-

 

ble and insisted on spending the entire working day

 

escorting his visitors over the base, snapping at subordi-

 

nates who seemed reluctant to comply- with the Cy-

 

clopeans' requests, apologising for any- delay longer than

 

two minutes, and in general being co-operative to the

 

point of parody.

 

Registers of personnel were printed out of the com-

 

puters; roll-calls were taken to ensure that no one slipped

 

away unaccounted for; ships were called in from nearby

 

stations to orbit Cyclops until the momentscheduled

 

for day six after the ultimatumwhen loading of person-

 

nel and salvageable goods would begin.

 

Damned if I don't think I made a mistake in running

 

such an efficient base, Langenschmidt told himself glum-

 

ly. If I hadn't given strict orders to the contrary, I think

 

we could have done the whole job in two days flat.

 

Meantime, while he cast around for new ways of

 

stalling the Cyclopeans, two significant tasks were in

 

progress. A friendly executive of the Corps personnel

 

branch, back at headquarters, was tracing one Pavel

 

Brzeska, on promotion furlough following his tour as

 

commandant of the Patrol sector which included Lan-

 

genschmidt's old beatnormally, Langenschmidt pre-

 

ferred not to have more truck with generals than he

 

could avoid, but this was a special caseand some highly

 

interesting work was going on at the dock, under the

 

rough wooden deck of Bracy's trawler.

 

Already it had had enough trickery and gadgets

 

crammed into its small hull to make it the envy of the

 

richest fishing family in Grarignol. If there was room for

 

all the machinery Maddalena had specified as "poten-

 

tially handy", it would wind up being the envy of the

 

richest private yachtsman this side of Earth.

 

Not that the said yachtsman would ever get to hear of

 

it.

 

By the evening of Day Two, as Langenschmidt was

 

now mentally labelling it, both these matters arrived at a

 

satisfactory conclusion. The trawler would have to make

 

its departure as openly as possible, so there was no ques-

 

tion of a night sailinga waste of several hours, but on

 

the other hand no matter how fast the ship could poten-

 

tially travel it would have to dawdle until it was beyond

 

the watchful ring of Cyclopean forces, which would

 

make the start of the trip very slow anyway. Maddalena

 

was closeted with Bracy, training him in some of the

 

techniques the rebuilt vessel would call on him to em-

 

ploy.

 

And the call came through from Pavel Brzeska. Lan-

 

genschmidt, having made quite certain that the Cy-

 

clopean inspectors would be kept away for an hour or

 

two, took it in his villa.

 

"Gus!" the new general exclaimed as the connection

 

came through. "I )ust got the news of the pickle you're

 

in out on Cyclops! What possessed you to get backed

 

into a corner by that crowd? You've tangled with them

 

before, haven't you? During the affair on Fourteen, I

 

seem to remember."

 

"That's right." Langenschmidt nodded. "With Mad-

 

dalena Santoswho's here, by the way; I sent for her be-

 

cause of the Conference on Non-Interference with

 

ZRP's they're holding."

 

"Heard about it. The first time Cyclops has made the

 

news in the Old System since its original breakaway

 

from Dagon, I imagine. There's a powerful lobby work-

 

ing on the subject, and a good deal of sentimental propa-

 

ganda being splashed around." Brzeska scowled. "What

 

does it look like from the Cyclops end, anyway?"

 

"Much the same as those we've had beforepious and

 

empty. But listen, Pavel! What I need you for is some-

 

thing more or less related to the ZRP's, and with your

 

background you can tell me a lot of things I daren't ob-

 

tain conspicuously through normal channels. I'm going

 

on a. string of suspicions, and though I'm morally certain

 

I'm right I can't call for full Corps support without more

 

solid evidence."

 

"Explain!" Brzesica commanded.

 

Langenschmidt did so. He wound up, "It's been very-

 

tricky trying to complete the calculations involved, of

 

coursewe have to keep taking the Cyclopean inspectors

 

in and out of the computing rooms to check on

 

manifests and personnel registers and so forth. But by

 

nha bit of dodging we've managed to narrow the

 

search area in which the missing ZRP must lie down to a

 

fifty-parsec sphere. Who do I ask to loan me some ships

 

to find it?"

 

Brzeska scowled again, this time ferociously. "Damna-

 

tion! What's become of the Corps in your sector since I

 

came home? Time was, if a suspicion like yours blew up,

 

they'd assign you the entire Fourth Fleet and no ques-

 

tions asked!"

 

"If they hadn't issued this ultimatum to me, I'd have

 

been in a position to make the request officially. As it

 

stands, the assumption is that I'm costing the Corps its

 

base here through incompetence, poor intelligence and

 

general mishandling of relations with the local govern-

 

ment."

 

Brzeska eyed him keenly. "I know. There's a three-

 

member commission of inquiry on its way to you

 

should reach you just about in time to see you leave, if

 

this one week's grace stands. And ah did you foul

 

things up that way?"

 

"I did not. I took it for granted that Cyclops wouldn't

 

cut its collective throat. Without the income from the

 

base their planetary budget will go to hell in two years."

 

"I know."

 

"I didn't realise you'd made a special study of the mat-

 

ter," Langenschmidt said vidth some bitterness.

 

"But I have," Brzeska countered softly. "It was touch

 

and go whether another commandant was appointed af-

 

ter your immediate predecessor, or whether the base

 

should be closed as obsolete and saperfluous. The de-

 

pendence of Cyclops on the revenue from it tipped the

 

balance. Actually, when they consulted me I advised

 

continuance1 went there on local leave and enjoyed

 

some wolfshark-hunting when I was younger."

 

"It sounds as though I picked the right man to con-

 

tact," Langenschmidt said, pleased.

 

"You certainly did. Nowlet's see . . ." Brzeska stared

 

at nothing for a moment. "Oh yes. You want Keita Bak-

 

ary, at my old base. He'll fix what you want in short or-

 

der."

 

"Thanks very much. What I do plan to do, inciden-

 

tally, is slip away under the pretext of being called to a

 

top-level conference on the redeployment of personnel

 

from here and the selection of a substitute base-location,

 

and by the time they finish investigating the circum-

 

stances I should have the rope braided to hang Quist by

 

the neck."

 

Brzeska shuddered visibly. "You pick some unpleasant