"How long before you can go back to your old form, John? BEC should be getting close to plotting out all the steps. I'm keen to find out the details, but I know they want to find out how to go both ways before they start the reversal."

La.r.s.en laughed, and it came as a harsh, gla.s.sy noise over the speakers. "Don't rush me, Bey. First of a', now that I fee' sure I can reverse when I want to,I am in 'ess of a hurry. According to BEC, it wi' need a fu' four weeks in a form-change tank, and you know what a bore that .wi' be. Anyway, I am not sure that I even want to change back."

Wolf looked at him in surprise.

"I mean it, Bey," La.r.s.en went on. "You know, when I 'ook back on it I know I was not too smart in the human form of John 'a.r.s.en. I can remember what a strugg'e I used to have to try and fo'ow your thought processes-and often I cou'd not do it. Now it is easy for me. I used to forget things, now everything I hear or see is waiting to be reca'ed."

He leaned back in the st.u.r.dy supporting chair, resting his three hundred kilograms of body ma.s.s.

"And there is something e'se. We on'y found out about it during the tests today. I suspected I had it, but I had no idea how we' deve'oped it is. Do you remember the troub'e I had with math? Even with ordinary arithmetic, even with an imp'ant?"

Bey sighed. "It would be hard to forget it, even without total recall. You were practically famous for it. 'Dough-head La.r.s.en,' Smith used to call you in the theory courses."

"You don't know how often I wished he would form-change to a toad-it was his natura' shape. Anyway, ask me something that ought to be hard for me, something beyond John 'a.r.s.en's grasp."

Wolf frowned. He scratched his dark head thoughtfully. "John, almost everything was. How about special functions? I seem to recall that they were your big hate, whenever they came up in the form-change theories. Do you remember anything at all about the gamma function?"

"How many figures would you 'ike? Suppose I give you six digits and step the argument in interva's of a hundredth? 'ike this. Gamma of 1.01 is 0.994326, gamma of 1.02 is 0.988844, gamma of 1.03 is 0.983550, gamma-"

"Hold it, John." Bey held up his hand in protest. "I don't want the whole table-even if you know it. What happened, did Capman fix you up with a calculator implant when he was working with you in the first couple of weeks?"

"No imp'ant." La.r.s.en laughed again, and Wolf winced at the noise like shattering gla.s.s. "It is bui't in, comes free with the form if you are a 'ogian. I don't even know if it is ca'cu'ation or memory-a' I know is, when I want them the numbers and the formu'ae are there waiting. Do you see now why I am in no hurry to change back?"

The gla.s.s panel that separated them was thin, but it had to withstand a pressure difference of almost three atmospheres. Wolf was reluctant to lean against it, even though he was sure it would take the extra load with no trouble. He came close to it, and peered through at the alien form.

"Bottom, thou are translated. Much more of this, and I'll feel like a moron.

I'm not sure my ego will be able to stand it unless you get started on that reverse-change."

" 'et me give it one more b'ow, then." La.r.s.en leaned forward, scratching at his side, where the great, gray torso framed the oval central display in his chest. "You have been trying to trace Robert Capman for four years, and you have not succeeded. Now he has disappeared again, and you do not know where you might find him-but do you rea'ize that you have more information now than you ever had before?"

He scratched the other side of his chest. "I think I wi' comp'ain about this skin, it does not fit right."

"More information?" Wolf had lost the last trace of sleepiness. "I don't see how I have more. We know that Ling is Capman, and I've tried to pursue that. I get no cooperation at all from the USF people. Either they don't want Capman extradited to Earth or they don't care either way. I put a call through to Park Green this morning in Tycho City, and he has been told to get back to his other work and not waste time looking for Capman. So where's the new information supposed to come from?"

La.r.s.en had stopped scratching and picked up a green wedge of fibrous sponge.

"I have to eat this stuff to keep me a'ive, but I fee' sure it was never thestandard 'ogian diet. It tastes 'ike the outf'ow from the chemica' factory."

He touched it to the delicate fringes on his mouth, which served as both taste and smell organs. The expression on his face changed. He closed his eyes briefly, then placed the spongy ma.s.s down again on the rack by his side. "Now I know how they must fee' in the famine areas when they get their rations of five-cyc'ed pap. Maybe I wi' reverse-change now. It is ages since I had any decent food. I think I am beginning to forget what it tastes "ike."

"New information, John," prompted Wolf impatiently. "I know you're doing it to annoy, and I know you're sitting there luxuriating in the thought that now you're three times as smart as I am. You ought to realize that anything about Capman puts me on to full alert."

La.r.s.en moved his head forward in a self-satisfied Logian smile but did not speak.

"How do we have new information?" went on Wolf. "We haven't had anything useful from the USF, and if you learned something during the weeks you were working with him around the clock, getting adjusted to the Logian form, this is the first time you've mentioned it. So, what's new?"

"A' right, Bey, no more sta'ing. 'et us app'y simp'e 'ogic, and see what we can deduce. First, think back to your origina' idea that Capman was somehow responsib'e for the 'ogian forms that were found in the Mariana Trench. That turned out to be wrong. So, it wou'd be natura' to a.s.sume that Capman shou'd have had no interest in 'oge before the arriva' of the unknown forms. On the other hand, Capman-as Kar' 'ing-was a 'eading expert on 'oge, and everything to do with it, years ago. 'ong before the forms appeared on the scene. Where does that idea take you?"

Wolf peered into the poisonous atmosphere inside the tank. "Tokhmir, John, I hate these conversations in separate rooms. It's worse than a video link."

"Now who is sta'ing? You can come in if you want to, Bey, the air is fine-once you get used to it. Now, answer my question."

Wolf nodded. "It's a good question, and it's an obvious one. I must have been a lot more tired than I realized in the past few weeks. It's been hectic out here since you began to change. All right, let me think."

He sat down and leaned his head forward on his hands. "Capman became Ling. So, either he knew about the Logian forms before we called him in to help or he had some other reason for being interested in Loge. I find I can't believe he knew about the forms before we went to Pleasure Dome-he really was working it all out for the first time there. That leaves only the other alternative: an interest in Loge, but one that was nothing to do with the Logian forms. That sounds improbable to me."

"Improbab'e or not, it is the on'y reasonab'e conc'usion. So now"-La.r.s.en's voice rose in pitch, and the color of his oval breastplate glowed more intensely-"carry the thought to its end point. What is the next step for you to take?"

Bey was nodding, his head still bowed. "All right. You've got something. The added piece is one simple fact: Capman's prior interest in Loge. Now I guess I have to trace the background on that. I think I know the best way to do it.

Park Green has access to all the USF data, and he should be able to trace Ling's movements and background." He looked up. "Maybe I should get into one of the tanks myself and switch to a Logian form. I could use the boost in brains."

La.r.s.en nodded seriously, head and trunk moving together. "You may think you are joking, Bey, but it is an idea that you ought to be taking more serious'y.

I can't describe how it fee's to be smarter than I was, but I 'ike the sensation. When we get a' the reverse-change p'otted out, there wi' be a 'ot of peop'e who wi' want to try this form."

La.r.s.en opened his mouth wide, revealing the bony processes inside and the rolled, mottled tongue. "Excuse me, Bey. The 'ogian yawn is a 'itt'e disgusting, if I can be'ieve the mirror. If you are going to ca' Park Green, I think I wi' go back to the s'eeping quarters and try and get some rest. We sti' haven't pinned it yet, but the BEC peop'e now think I am on aseventeen-hour cyc'e. A' these tests are wearing me out. Ten hours so far, just on my eyes! At 'east I know what the first reverse-change step wi' be-I want to be ab'e to say my own name." He stood up. "Say hi to Park from me-you know I cannot say he'o to him."

When Wolf had left for the comlink center, La.r.s.en turned and walked heavily through to the inner room that contained the sleep area. His movement was silent but ponderous, gliding along on the round padded feet that ended the bulky lower limbs. In the screened inner area, he went at once to the communications panel that had been built into one of the walls. The thick rubbery pads on his digits were awkward for the comlink's small keys, but he managed to dial a scrambled connection for an off-Earth link. When the circuit was established, La.r.s.en at once began transmission.

Expressions on a Logian face were not easily read by any human, but perhaps some of the BEC specialists who had been working with La.r.s.en for the past few weeks would have seen the satisfaction on his countenance as he began his message. The comlink coded it and hurled it on its way as a tightly focused beam, up to the relay by the Moon, then far on beyond to its remote destination.

CHAPTER 16.

The social parameters were tabulated on color displays all around the offices of the general coordinators. Eighteen key indicators in a stylized map format dominated the central office, and summaries in cued form were given by each chart. Next to the ninety-day history was the current ninety-day forecast, showing trends and rate of change of trends.

In the center of the room the six chief planners had gathered, grim-faced, around the circular table. The picture was clear. The perturbations to the usual stable pattern were unmistakable, and they were growing steadily in spite of all attempts to stabilize them. A certain level of statistical variation was tolerable-indeed, was inevitable-but perturbations beyond a certain size, according to Dolmetsch doctrine, would force a major change. The new steady state of the system was difficult to calculate, and there was not a general agreement on it. One school of theorists predicted a partial social collapse, with new homeo-stasis establishing itself for a reduced Earth population of about four billion. That was the optimist view. Others, including Dolmetsch himself, thought there could be no new steady state solution derived continuously from the old one. Civilization must collapse completely before any new order could arise from the ruins.

None of the planners was a theoretician. For practical people, it was hard to distinguish between theoretical alternatives, where one meant the death of ten billion and the other the death of fourteen billion. Both were unimaginable, but the indicator profile was not encouraging.

The group leader finally picked up his pointer again and shook his head in disgust.

"I can't tell if we're even touching it. There are improvements here"-he gestured at the area centered on the Link entry point in Western North America-"but everything is going to h.e.l.l again in the China region. Look at that violence index. I haven't looked at the computer output, but I'll bet the death rate from unnatural causes has tripled."

The woman next to him looked at the area indicated. "That's my hometown, right at the trouble center," she said quietly. "Even if we don't know the best course, we have to keep on trying."

"I know that-but remember the rules when you leave today. No public comments unless they're optimistic ones, and no release of anything longer than the sixty-day forecast. G.o.d knows, though, that's bad enough all by itself."

They stood up.

"How long do we have, left, before we're past a point of no return?" she asked."I don't know. Three months? Six months? It could go very fast once it starts; we've all seen the s...o...b..ll effect-on paper." He shrugged. "We can't say we haven't worried about something like this before. Half the papers on social stability in the past twenty years have predicted trouble at better than the fifty percent level. Well, there are a few positive things we can do in the next day or two." . He turned to the woman next to him. "Greta, I'll need a summary of the whole situation to send to the USF headquarters. Dolmetsch is up there now, and he can do the briefing. Sammy, I want you to see how the USF reacts to the idea of lending us an energy kernel for a few months and orbiting it above Quito in synchronous station. If we beam the power down, it will help the local energy problem in South America for the next month or two.

Ewig, I need the latest data from Europe. I have to brief the council in an hour, and Pastore is sure to ask what's happening in Northern Italy. I'll be back to pick up the material in twenty minutes-I need time to study it before I go in there."

He hurried out. The noise level in the big room rose rapidly as the planners redoubled their Efforts to stabilize the world economy. One hope sustained them all: It was not the first crisis of the past half century. They had always managed to find the right combination of restorative measures to arrest the oscillations in the social indicators. But this one looked bad. Like a sh.o.r.e community bracing for the arrival of a hurricane, the planners prepared for a long, hard struggle.

Park Green, seated in the Permanent Records Center six kilometers beneath the surface, completed the listing he wanted. He looked at his watch, whistled, stored the output he had generated into his percomp, and signed off the computer terminal. He sat in silence for a few minutes, reviewing everything he had found, then looked again at his watch. Bey would still be up, even though he was on Central Time instead of U.T., but if he didn't call him now he would have to wait another ten hours. Park decided to delay his return to the living sections and put in a request for a comlink to Earth.

The connection was almost instantaneous-at this hour, traffic was light. When Wolf's image appeared on the holoscreen, sleepy-looking and irritated, Park decided he must have made a slight error in his time calculation. He concluded that it was no time for the conventional greetings.

"It's a mystery, Bey," he began. "A complete mystery. The records here look as though they are intact, with full data on Ling-personal data-going back for fifty years. I agree with you that Ling is Capman, but how can he be if he has full records like this?"

Bey rubbed his eyes and came more fully awake. "Full records, eh? For most people, that couldn't be faked. But we had evidence a few years ago that proved Capman is a master at manipulating computer software. Stored data isn't safe when he's around. There's a good chance that most of Ling's 'history' is a constructed background, made up and inserted into the records by Capman. He must have had some cooperation to do that, though. There must be some leaders in the USF who are helping him-an ordinary Earth citizen would have no way to get started. Somebody up there with you helped Capman get access to your data banks."

"I don't see how they'd do that." Green looked at the computer terminal next to him. "Most of the files here are read-only memory. How could he affect those?"

"Most read-only memory is software protected-it's not special-purpose hardware."

"But how would he know which type he had to deal with? Well, I'll leave that one to you. I've been trying to trace Ling, and all I can really find out is that he isn't on the Moon, right now. According to the records, he's supposed to be down there on Earth. Are you sure he's not there?"

Wolf nodded. "Medium sure-you can't be all that certain with Capman about anything. According to me, though, he's off-Earth. I checked every manifest, coming and going, and every ma.s.s record for lift-off. Unless he's found a new wrinkle, we've lost him again from the Earth-Moon system. Did you check theLiberation Colonies?"

"Yes. They're easy, because they have no hiding places. He's not there."

"Well, keep looking on the Moon. I won't even guess what form he's wearing now-probably not either Ling or Capman."

Green stood up and leaned against the console. He looked depressed. "Well, Bey, what do you want me to do now? I'm dead-ended here, and you seem to be getting nowhere there. Any ideas?"

Wolf was silent for a minute, recalling his own experiences four years earlier, when he was first hunting for Capman's hidden tracks.

"I can only suggest one thing, Park," he said. "Capman gives this impression that he's infallible, but he's not. Last time I tangled with him I found there are limits to what he can do to change the data banks."

"He seems to have done pretty well here."

"Maybe not. He can change his own records, if he can get access to the protected files, but he couldn't change all the cross-reference files that might mention his name or his actions. That was the way we got a trace on him before, when I went through the medical records from Central Hospital. For some reason, Capman won't destroy other people's records. That's his weakness."

"So what are you suggesting, Bey?"

"We have to try the same method here. We have to track him from the indirect references-other people's records that somehow refer to him."

Green had a very dubious look on his face. "I know what you're telling me, Bey. But honestly, I wouldn't know how to begin a thing like that. I'm no computer hotshot. How would I know who would be likely to have a reference to Capman or Ling in his file? There are three million people here in the USF. I can't go through three million personnel records, but that's what you seem to be suggesting."

"There are other ways, if you know how to handle sorts and merges." Wolf hesitated. "Park, is there any way that you could get me a direct hookup to interface with the USF Permanent Data Bank? From here, in my office? It would be enough if you get me a read-only link-I don't propose to try and change any of the files, only to a.n.a.lyze their contents."

"I don't see why not. After all, we have a full cooperative exchange program between the USF and Earth computer banks. Doesn't work too well sometimes, but this shouldn't be hard to do."

"If you can arrange it, I'll take a shot at the a.n.a.lysis myself, from here. If I find anything, I probably won't be able to follow up-but you could help on that, if you're willing."

"I'll be glad to. My trouble has been finding any lead to follow up.

Bey, let me check this out and call you back. Tomorrow," he added hastily, noticing again Wolf's rumpled hair and appearance of broken sleep.

"No. Call me tonight if you get approval."

"All right. One other thing I need from you though-a charge code. The comlink hookup will be expensive. Do you have a budget that will cover it?"

Wolf nodded. "No problem." He keyed a fourteen-digit code for transmission to the Tycho City accounting bank. "One thing about the Office of Form Control, it may run out of toilet paper but they never stint you on comlink costs. One other thing, if you can get access for me but not remote access, take that.

I'll make a trip up there if I have to and work from your terminal. It would be better from here, though, so I can keep my eye on John."

Green nodded. "I saw him yesterday, being interviewed on holovision. Do you know, I think he's enjoying himself. He looks strange, but that doesn't seem to bother him. He was there in his tank, and they had a couple of Indian philosophers on the program with him. They started to debate whether John is human. He tied them in logical knots. By the end of the program he used their own arguments and had them deciding that they weren't human."

"I didn't see it, but I can imagine it. I wouldn't like to get into an argument with him now-he's smarter than he ever was. If all the Logians had that caliber of mental equipment, it's lucky for us they aren't still around.They'd have us all doing whatever they wanted, and convinced that it was all for our own benefit."

Wolf yawned, and stretched luxuriously. "But you're right, Park, John is enjoying himself-he was a good deal less happy before we were sure that a reverse-change would be possible."

"I'll believe that." Green nodded, and reached out his hand to cut off the connection. "As a matter of fact, I wouldn't mind total recall and increased brain power myself. I never seem to really know what's going on here these days. With Dolmetsch in Tycho City, there are council meetings going on around the clock. The news takes a while to filter down to my level, but there must be trouble somewhere. I'll call you back as soon as I have an answer on your question-that shouldn't take more than an hour or two."

CHAPTER 17.

Four years earlier, Bey Wolf had sworn that once was enough; he would never attempt it again. Now he was in much the same situation, but he was faced with something even harder. Instead of sorting through the structure of Central Hospital's medical records, he was working with the data of the whole of the USF. The planetary information file was a maze, and he was in the middle of it, looking for signs of Karl Ling's early work. The path he was following in the records crossed and recrossed itself. First it appeared to be leading to something promising, then it petered out or led him to a restricted record area that only the USF leaders could access. It was a labyrinth without an Ariadne.

Bey plowed doggedly on from his office in Form Control, fourteen and sixteen hours a day. It was almost a week before he had the smell of a lead, another week before he had enough to make it worth discussing with anyone. When he finally dumped his output and cut the connection to Tycho City, he was ready to talk it over with John La.r.s.en. He went again to the viewing panel that connected to the Logian living quarters.

La.r.s.en was not alone. Maria Sun was standing by the viewing panel, along with three other engineers from BEC. Maria, after the help she had given in modifying La.r.s.en's form-change tank when the Logian change had first begun, felt a proprietary interest in the progress of her delivery. Now, however, she was not pleased. She turned to Wolf in exasperation as he approached them.

"Bey, give us your opinion, will you? Who will own the rights to the form-change programs that were involved when John changed? I want to get all the details, but n.o.body will even tell me who I ought to be talking to. All we get at BEC are hearsay and wild stories about Karl Ling, and the monster here won't tell me a thing."

Bey looked in through the viewing panel to the big living area, where La.r.s.en was sitting comfortably on his specially built chair with its accommodation for the double knee. He gave Bey a nodding of the head that no doubt was the Logian version of an irritating smile.

Wolf could not resist a quick wink at La.r.s.en, which he hoped went un.o.bserved by the BEC group.

"It's only my opinion, Maria," he said, "but I'd say John owns the rights himself, by default. He and Karl Ling are the only ones who know the whole story on the programs that they used, and if you're going to track down Ling, I wish you luck. I've been trying that myself for the past month. It's not easy. I want to talk to John about it."

Maria Sun stepped away from the panel and shook her head in disgust. "I'll come back later, when you've finished." She looked again at La.r.s.en. "According to the outputs I've seen, the life ratio for that form is more than three. I'm really interested in his body."

"-You shou'd have taken me when you had the chance," said La.r.s.en.

She glared at him. "I don't know how much fun it would be to wear a Logian form, but he"-she gestured with her thumb at the inside of the tank-"seems inno hurry to get out of it. If it's comfortable, and if it really lets you live that long, a lot of people will be interested in it even if you have to live in a tank to get the benefit. The fellows back at BEC are talking already of building more big tanks. It could be the hottest thing in next year's research budget."

She gave La.r.s.en another scowl. He lifted his great arm and waved at her without speaking. Accompanied by her three companions, Maria swept out.

"She wi' be back," said La.r.s.en as soon as she had gone. "Maria never gives up on a new form."

"I know," replied Bey, pulling a chair close to the observation panel. "Be nice to your girlfriend, John. She did more than anybody else to pull you through when the changes first began-more than I ever could. Well, let's get down to business. This may feel like old times to both of us-tracking Robert Capman through the data banks."