"Venee interesting! And a bright light begins to dawn. It makes what we just experienced all the more pertinent. I think we'd better take turns telling everybody what happened. I'll start, you, Curly, better be last. Here goes... When Cecily had finished, Rodnar stared at her in frowning, narrow-eyed concentration, then shook his head in baffled surprise.

"You weren't even trying to kill Laynch, then? Why-in all the h.e.l.ls of your whole s.p.a.ce-why not."

"Kill him?" she asked, in equal surprise.

"Of course I wasn't-that was our first contact-how could I have been, possibly? Why, I'd never even met the guy! I didn't know anything about him. Even after I found out how rough he was playing it, all I was going to do to him was to bust him loose from his front teeth-and I'd've done it, too, in about another jillionth of a split mu-musecond."

"Exactly... That's what I mean... and Laynch knows it." Rodnar was still completely baffled. He thought for a few seconds then went on, "But that could make it all the better at that... He thinks you are all pacifists... but maybe you are. You all act like pacifists. Tell me. Could you would you, I mean-kill? If all your lives depended on it? Our pacifists won't. They'd rather die themselves than take a human life." The six, dead serious now, looked at each other for a second, then Cecily said, "There isn't a drop of martyr blood in me. I never have killed anyone, but I could if I had to, and I would. I don't know about you other girls, but...

"Don't worry about Bun and me, Cecily," Barbara said, quietly.

"We already have." She silenced Deston's attempted protest and went on, "Oh, I know, Babe-Uncle Andy gave you boys the credit in his autopsy reports, but-never mind the details. We have. As for Babe and Herc, Rodnar while they were s.p.a.ce-officers with InStell they were practically in the wholesale mayhem-and-killing business. And as for you, Perce-you're not exactly an innocent, either, are you? You didn't wear a gun all that time without using it at all, did you."

"Not exactly, I'm afraid. No, I didn't." Train shook his head as he answered the two questions specifically, but he did not elaborate. And Rodnar Starrlah, Marrjyl, and Knuaire, seizing and reading hundreds of side bands of thought, built themselves an entirely different picture of these supposedly peace-at-any price denizens of Other s.p.a.ce than the one they had had before, a picture they liked much better and respected vastly more.

"I see... we're beginning to see, I mean," Rodnar said, slowly. They were beginning-just beginning-to see what those strangers from Other s.p.a.ce really were.

"We can work together, after all, and if we do we should be able to win. Knu, as theoretician, taking this new data into account, what is your projection of the engagement."

"In broad, and as respecting only those events whose probability approaches unity, it will almost certainly go like this..." And the Spathian thought into the pooled minds for several minutes.

"Nice-very nice!" Deston applauded.

"But how about in fine."

"With the understanding that the probability will vary inversely as about the cube of the degree of fineness of detail."

"At that price we don't want it," Train cut in, decisively.

"Much better, Babe, don't you think, to play it by ear than to go in all set for the wrong things."

"You couldn't be righter So let's go over the things we are sure about again." They went over them again... and again... and again, six Galaxians and four Justicians, in an interspatial conference of another kind. Only Stella Adams remained in the background, storing every detail for later reporting to Andy. After leaving the Safari, the four Justicians became very busy indeed. Rodnar and Starriah had to work in utmost secrecy, since any leakage of their real plans to Laynch's spies would have been a double-prime disaster. Thus every StatusFive psiontist of the Justiciate-and this included the Grand Commanders of the Guard-knew what was going to happen and was drilled unrelentingly in the part each was to play. No one else knew that anything else was afoot. No one, that is, except Supreme Admiral Axolgan; and he did not know anything until Knuaire of Spath and Marrjyl of Orm came aboard the flagship. They were armed with the full authority of His Supreme Justice Sonrathendak Ranjak of Slaar-and also with their own impermeable psionic shields. After the Admiral was shown the ornately official doc.u.ment verifying their authority, he received his instructions. First and immediately, every ship in the fleet must shield to the limit every sensitive instrument against any kind of interference including X-emanations. Second, as during the attack on Garsh, there must be a Psiontist Five aboard each ship, fully instructed, waiting and alert. These of course would be provided.

"But why..." the Admiral began, then desisted. Following, the Knuaire-Marrjyl fusion drew a detailed mental picture of Axolgan's part in the coming conflict.

"But that's the d.a.m.ndest way of fighting a battle anyone ever heard of," the admiral grumbled.

"Enough!" Knuaire snapped aloud.

"This is going to be a kind of battle n.o.body ever heard of before. If we need you we'll really need you-and the psiontists will be in control. You will do exactly as ordered. Make one slip-just one-and you feed the eagles. Is that clear? Hear and obey."

"I hear and obey." Axolgan saluted stiffly; and the Knuaire Marrjyl pairing knew that the burly-hearted, tough-souled old s.p.a.cehound, accustomed as he was to obeying orders exactly, would not make one slip... Then they began their waiting, in sync with Rod and Starrlah-even when the latter pair entered subs.p.a.ce. And waited-and waited... and waited. As the day of adjournment of the First Session of the Interspatial Conference drew near, Emperor Laynch stepped up the tempo and intensity of his preparations. Planning had been done to the last detail. Calculating all the stress-factors, he piled the work on, at a rate precisely determined to bring every psiontist, every commander of men, and every firing officer to his peak of performance at time zero, yet without overtraining any one of them. And Laynch worked himself and his quartet of psionic operators at the same calculated rate. As a matter of fact, at zero time, the team-of-four of which he was the anchor man was probably the strongest team native to Second s.p.a.ce. At noon of Adjournment Day, then, Laynch and his forces were ready. He watched the huge Safari approach the Conference ship; watched the Trains 'port themselves aboard, watched them chat unconcernedly and unsuspectingly with the departing psiontists of the Justiciate. He was not surprised that the Safari wore impenetrable screen. That was now, of course, to be expected. That vessel could be and would be handled later, those two Trains were his present major concern. With cold intensity Laynch kept his mind fixed on his chronom. Split-second timing was essential because of the involvement, in subs.p.a.ce, of the immense Garshan fleet. A couple of days before the Conference was to adjourn, the Safari made a quick flit to First s.p.a.ce, and when she got back there were only seven people aboard. There were to have been six, according to Deston's plan, but Stella Adams insisted on joining the group.

"I must be there," she said flatly, with resolution that surprised the rest. After telepathic communication with Andy Adams they realized that her presence, even if the part she played were pa.s.sive, was highly important. As Adams expressed it, "You youngsters have so much to learn! Would any of you-male or female-be complete without your complement? Of course you wouldn't! Though for the moment Stella and I are physically apart, I would be as a one-armed or one-eyed man without her. It was necessary that she be in Second s.p.a.ce when you had your full crew, it is just as vital now." Shortly after noon of Adjournment Day, then, the Safari and her crew were tensely alert. According to plan, Cecily and Perce Train 'ported themselves aboard the Conference ship to be ready, apparently, to take the First s.p.a.ce scientists back home. In the control room of the Safari, the Destons and the Joneses were waiting. There were no longer any "standby" machines as such aboard. Captain Theodore Jones, personally, had put every one of those monsters of power "in sync and on the line." Each was synchronized with every other to within the smallest measurable fraction of one wavelength of ultraviolet light; each was ready to pour out, with no time-lapse at all, its torrential myriakilowattage of unleashed power. Stella remained out of sight in the Adams's quarters. Of the four; Bernice was the only one who was tense. She was the detector; the giver-of-warning. She was touching just barely touching, with the lightest possible contact even she could feel-the very outer fringes of Laynch's mind. Linked to her, lightly but definitely, were not only the other Galaxians but also Rodnar and Starrlah, who were still out in subs.p.a.ce but were ready instantly to emerge. This tension and this linkage were necessary because, although Laynch would have to initiate the action, several other actions would have to be practically simultaneous with his. Quite a feat? Definitely, but Bernice was certain she could do it. Laynch could not act without an instant of selfpreparation, she was sure. She was also sure that even if those Garshans' minds were linked as tightly as were those of the Galaxians that instant of preparation would give her time enough. It did. The double quartet of Garshans struck at the Trains, and in the instant of that striking the Trains vanished from the Conference ship. In the same instant of time they materialized at their working stations aboard the Safari and hurled her right into the middle of the just-emerging Garshan fleet. And at the same moment, unnoticed, Andrew Adams appeared at his wife's side in their quarters, and instantly they went into full mental fusion, observing all that their minds could perceive. Jones sat hunched at his board, eyes glaring at his mastermeter, fingers curled around k.n.o.bs, daring any one of these Gargantuan engines to wander off-sync by any fraction of a split red whisker Bernice stood behind him, both hands fiercely gripping the back of his chair. Having done her first job, she was now holding psionic watch and ward, supremely alert for any unexpected thing that might happen. Deston lay flat on his back on a davenport, eyes shut and jaw hard set. Barbara sat beside him, gripping both hands. Fused into one fourth-nume mind, they were placing their targets in a three-dimensional mental "tank" and were plotting, for the Trains' benefit, the path of least travel. As one the Justiciate fleet on the KnuMarr psionic signal emerged and instantly shut off all power. Rodnar and Starrlah had already emerged, in their First s.p.a.ce light cruiser. With the Justiciate fleet in position, power off, they put every Graham their cruiser had on one hundred-percent load and left it there, and as those terribly destructive Graham emanations filled s.p.a.ce and subs.p.a.ce there came into being the second-worst X-storm ever observed.

Thus each Garshan warship, having emerged, was powerless either to maneuver or to immerge.

All instruments and controls were dead. Officers and technicians went madly to work at rigging manual controls, but there was pitifully little that they could do.

Deston triggered his first Z-gun at his first target. There was no need to spare the horses, so he didn't. He worked his gun at maximum aperture and maximum blast, and when that beam struck it the Garshan warship literally exploded. That beam was over two hundred feet in diameter at the plane of impact, and, in spite of its dispersion, it was still so superh.e.l.lishly hot as to preclude all molecular and most atomic structures. Thus the effect was pretty much the same as though a few hundred tons of the vessel's own substance had been transformed instantly into low-grade fissionable material. Simply, that warship disappeared. Where it had been there was a fireball so intensely, so frightfully hot that no fraction of its energy was in the visible spectrum. It would have to expand for seconds before any part of it would become visible. Then the Trains flicked the Safari to Stop Two, where four Garshan ships were close enough to hit. At stop Three there were three... and so on... and on with devastating efficiency, taking appalling toll. They had expected jury-rigged, hand-launched, and 'ported missiles, and they got them, but such things could not present any very serious threat. Bernice saw them all coming, and what few of them she could not handle, the Trains could. Destruction proceeded apace. Then, as always, warfare was not sporting. In a perfectly planned and perfectly executed operation, the victor emerged unscathed, the vanquished was totally destroyed. This operation, however, was not perfectly planned and they all knew it. That was why Bernice, the most sensitive of them all, was on guard with every sense stretched full out, and suddenly she perceived something in the subether; a disturbance; a peculiarly unfamiliar distortion. She didn't know what it was, but she didn't wait to learn anything about it.

"Flit!" she shrieked a mental warning. The Safari "flitted." The Trains were superfast; but they were not quite fast enough to get their immense vessel away clean. In the instant of time while the Safari was immerging, while her rear gun was still in three-dimensional s.p.a.ce, an atomic bomb exploded so close to her that it blew her whole tail-section squarely off. Automatic bulkheads slammed shut, of course, and automatic decontaminators flashed on, but that had been a "dirty" bomb and a lot of radiation came in.

"Wha'ja read, Babe?" Jones snapped.

"Thirty-two here, high red." Deston glanced at his "telltale"-the radiation meter-on his wrist.

"Thirty-one-high red-I'll 'port the DCQ in here - strip, everybody, and make it snappy." Decontaminating the human body after an ordinarily lethal dose of radiation was not a pleasant operation, but, if done soon enough, it was completely effective. There was, however, very little time to waste and no time at all for modesty. Thus, even though Bernice wailed "Oh my G.o.d, Here, not again?" she did not expect an answer to her question and she was the first undressed. Clothing flew in all directions, the women grouped themselves around one of the DEKON generators that Deston had 'ported into the room, the men around the other. Cupped hands grabbed up double handfuls of the thick, gooey, whipped-cream-like stuff frothing from the nozzles. Barbara and Bernice lathered and slathered the stuff all over themselves and each other and Cecily; the while showing the redhead just how to join the sport.

"What a shampoo!" Cecily exclaimed, rubbing the frothy cream vigorously into her scalp.

"I've read about this, of course, and seen it done on the tri-di, but you've both actually been through it. That'd make it easier wouldn't it."

"Just the opposite," Bernice said, working busily on the redhead's back.

"They soft-pedal the part about inhaling both lungs full of the gunk. You cough so hard and so long you simply wish you could die."

"Inhale it? That glop? Why, I thought it was a gas you inhaled."

"That's what I said, they soft-pedal it. Very soft. It goes like this. I'm bigger than Bobby is, so I hold your head still in a headlock. You exhale-clear empty. Then Bobby slaps a huge glob of the stuff over your nose and mouth and you inhale as fast and as hard as you can. If you don't get enough of it we both hold you down on the floor and give you some more while you're coughing and then you'll really wish you were dead. Okay."

"Okay-I'll do my d.a.m.ndest, Bun. I'll inhale fast and hard." She did. Ignoring the paroxysmally coughing, strangling, choking redhead writhing on the floor, Barbara said, "Okay, Bun. Now I'll give it to you and have Babe give it to me. He can take it himself, but that's one thing I don't want ever even to try" While they were engaged in this most unpleasant but necessary task, Cecily, in the midst of coughing, suddenly choked out; "Stella." They had forgotten the seventh Safari pa.s.senger! Even as she coughed, Cecily sent her perception to the Adams suite. No one was there. Instantly she scanned the entire interior of the cruiser; reporting to the others, swiftly but thoroughly-and there were only six of them aboard. Soberly Deston made the mental observation, "Knowing Andy's powers, I'm not going to worry. You can bet your last buck-when trouble hit, he whisked her away." The calm thought of Dr. Adams came to the six simultaneously.

"You are correct, my friend. You didn't know it, but I was aboard, and when Cecily shrieked 'Flit!' we did. We're on the RodStarr light cruiser But you're busy with the DCQ-and in seconds we'll also be very busy." He broke contact. As smoothly as though it had been rehea.r.s.ed, six minds became as one-two from First s.p.a.ce and four from Second s.p.a.ce-Andrew and Stella Adams, Rod and Starrlah, and Knuaire and Marrjyl. There followed the most wildly unorthodox tactic ever utilized in s.p.a.ce warfare. It had been planned as a remote emergency measure-but it was ready. It required fantastic coordination, possible only to a linkage of top-level psionic minds. On signal Rodnar shut off the Grahams-power flicked on in every Justiciate warship-missles were launched at unprepared Garshan ships-an instantaneous flit-power off-and Grahams on. It happened with split-second precision-and it worked. Because of the Justiciate fleet's shielding, and because all power was off when the Grahams' disruptive emanations poured forth, they escaped damage. Again and again at purely random intervals the procedure was repeated, inflicting devastating damage to the Garshan fleet with no retaliation. In the Safari in subs.p.a.ce, the endless half-hour waiting period for complete decontamination finally ended, the six sc.r.a.ped most of the DCQ off their bodies, showered hastily, dressed, and prepared to go back into the fray. After the fact, they all knew how the successful attack had been accomplished. Suicide job. Some Garshan psiontist-and a good one-had 'ported that bomb inside a screened light cruiser; had 'ported that ship as close to the Safari as possible, and had died in the explosion. There would be more, they were certain. They emerged-to find that the situation had changed greatly during their absence. The Garshan fleet had shrunk visibly. With their reappearance the Grahams remained on at full power and the remaining enemy ships centered their suicide attacks on the Safari. For the Galaxians it was a case of speed-flash in-blast-flash out. Fast as the Trains and Destons were, all too often they were just barely fast enough. The Garshan psiontists, aware of the only tactic that had worked, tried again and again. They were highly capable, completely expendable, and very, very fast. Although the Galaxians' hearts were in their throats half the time, the Safari was not actually struck again, and so the battle was finally won. Not a single Garshan ship remained in the entire region of Second s.p.a.ce. Rodnar and Starrlah shut off their Grahams, and they, Knuaire and Manjyl, and Stella and Andrew Adams 'ported aboard the Safari. At sight of the latter, Deston exclaimed, "Welcome aboard! And Doc-fighting isn't exactly in your line-but somehow you got into this one. And did quite well, from all I can gather." Adams smiled and shrugged deprecatingly.

"It seemed to be the thing to do under the circ.u.mstances. I joined Stella when Cecily and Perce 'ported in, and when the bomb was on its way we joined Rodnar and Starrlah." He looked narrowly at Stella, then said to the rest, "If you don't mind, we'll get some rest. It's been a trying time for us oldsters, you know." As an afterthought, he said, "Someone should tell the people on the Conference ship just what happened, and that the Trains will be getting them back to First s.p.a.ce a bit later. I'll attend to it." He linked arms with Stella.

"We'll see you at breakfast." At Deston's nod they vanished. Rodnar spoke for the Justicians.

"I think we too had better be on our way. Starr won't be fit to live with if she doesn't get some rest." Starrlah frowned in mock disapproval.

"Speak for yourself, Rod." They were tired, and showed it. Mere weariness, however, could not account for the expressions on the four Justician faces. They had seen what the Galaxians had done, and that had increased greatly their knowledge of the strangers. All were shivering inwardly at their knowledge, that the deadliest possible performer is not one whose ordinary life is one of violence, but a highly intelligent ent.i.ty who, having coldly and accurately evaluated a situation and having come to a decision, proceeds coldly and ruthlessly to take whatever action is necessary to implement that decision.

"That was a mighty good joba splendid job," Rodnar said to Deston.

"With so many of their best psiontists dead, mopping up Laynch and his empire will be much easier than we expected. A wonderful job, truly, for which we give you our deepest thanks. We owe you a lot. It is unfortunate that your ship was. .h.i.t, but..." Rodnar paused. Unfamiliar with any expression of condolence, he simply did not know what to say.

"Think nothing of it, Rod." Deston shrugged his shoulders.

"They didn't like us any better than they liked you, and, after all, it was us they were after, not you."

"How many of 'em got away?" Jones asked.

"We lost a lot of time deconning ourselves. It seems our emergency plan worked very well."

"It certainly did," Knuaire answered.

"And very few if any at all escaped. Some of them rigged manual controls, but between you and the Navy I think we got them all. It's certain that the Garshan Navy is destroyed."

"Good, that's one Navy we can spare," Train said, and an awkward silence fell. There were a great many things each side wanted to talk about, but neither quite dared. They didn't know each other well enough yet, did not have enough in common. They liked each other well enough... in most ways... in some ways, at least, but... For instance, Deston would not give Rodnar the formulae of interspatial transit. Not yet. He knew he wouldn't, he had no intention whatever of doing so. Perhaps they had no pair with the power of the Trains-but they might. Nevertheless, he felt guilty about not saying anything about it. But Knuaire, who had as always been reading all available side bands, held up his hand and smiled.

"Not yet, Babe. There's much too much for both of us to learn. There's lots of time. But why so funereal, everybody? It isn't as though we were parting forever, you know. The Conference meets again in forty days, and surely we'll all be here then."

"Why of course we will!" Barbara exclaimed, and everyone cheered up immensely. It has always been much easier to say "See-you-later" than "Goodbye." Starrlah, who had been looking closely at Deston, said, "Babe, you look like a kinto's worth of eagle food-you'd better get yourself some sleep." Then, to them all, "Forty days, then, you nice, nice people, you!" She waved her hand and the Justicians disappeared. Deston smiled a bone-tired smile and said, "You know, gang, that's the best advice I've had in a long time. I'm going to go to bed and sleep for one solid Galactic-Standard twenty-four-hour day." As though on signal the three couples 'ported to their rooms, and silence fell upon the great transpatial Safari. Only in the Adams suite was there activity of a sort. Andrew and Stella faced each other across a little table, eyes meeting, hands gripping, minds fused. Their objective a galaxy, a planet, a room incalculably far removed from Second s.p.a.ce a children's room on the night side of Newmars where two lovely youngsters, a boy and a girl, slept peacefully under the watch-care of two psiontist nurses. The fusion touched those minds ever so lightly-and again they were conscious of an intellect of vast serenity and incredible scope. Awed but in full control, the fusion asked, "Isn't it logical to think we deserve some explanation? Or are we merely puppets." Their vision of Theodore Deston and Barbara Jones remained unchanged-two soundly sleeping children. But an answer came clearly in a thought with a strength and incisiveness they had never before encountered.

"The time for haste has pa.s.sed and a great danger has been averted. The beginning of subs.p.a.ce interstellar travel set in motion events which, had they followed their course uninfluenced would inevitably have ended in the destruction of Galaxian civilization.

"Subs.p.a.ce transit with its inadvertent creation of X-storms in Second s.p.a.ce and with the infrequent destruction of our starships by our close approach to Second s.p.a.ce vehicles would have led to the eventual discovery of First s.p.a.ce by the science of the Garshans after their conquering of the Justiciate. So Laynch of Garsh had to be stopped.

"Many intellects had to be influenced-yours among them-to bring this about. Abilities had to be developed and intensified in a single generation. The need for such influence has ended and growth will now proceed at a normal pace. We can detect no adverse results in the future progress of humanity in First s.p.a.ce or in Second." After the slightest pause, the thought concluded, "Your minds are capable of accepting this truth in its totality. Others might not have that strength." Andrew and Stella Adams were aware of complete and final dismissal. Simultaneously they drew a deep breath, arose, and wordlessly prepared for bed. Sleep eluded them for a long time, and when it came it was troubled by a vision of a lovely little boy and girl peacefully asleep.

19 EPILOGUE.

Many Works are available on the subject of Theodore Warner Deston and Barbara Bernice Jones, his wife. These works range in tone from the scholarly through the flippant to the completely skeptical. After years of study, however the chronicler has been forced to conclude that they were in fact the only pair of fully psionic human beings ever to live. Only five facts about them are definitely known. One-they both were conceived in the theretofore starkly unknown environment of a zeta field.

Two-their periods of gestation, which were extraordinarily long, were spent in that environment. Three-their parents were four of the strongest and ablest psiontists then alive. Fourthere is no record that they themselves had issue. Five-after age sixty, no reference whatever to either of them is to be found. Over the vista of the years it is impossible to understand the mental att.i.tude of the psiontists of that age. Each insisted upon privacy, a long-forgotten word that meant being alone. While it seems incredible, it is true, and this fact accounts for much of the difficulty in determining at this late date what that pair of supermen (they almost certainly were supermen) actually did.

How they did it would of course, by definition, be incomprehensible to the strictly human mind. It is not that no full-mind recordings of the Early Psionic Age have been found, the appalling truth seems to be that no full-mind recordings were made! After years of study, the chronicler has concluded that events transpired substantially as follows. Those two embryos began to think and to learn as soon as their brains began to form. Their minds were endowed from the first with superhuman powers, including those of transpatial and transtemporal perception. Each learning event required the barest instant of objective time, long before their fingernails formed they had read and had understood every word and every symbol in the Procyon's very comprehensive library. Since subjective time is measured by the number of learning events experienced, they were mentally much more than adult at birth. They scanned times, s.p.a.ces, and cultures. They studied, a.n.a.lyzed, computed, and decided what to do. For sixty years they did it. Then, having done what was best for all humanity, they... The chronicler hesitates to record his considered opinion on imperishable tape, but to his mind only one conclusion is possible. There is no record that either of them ever died. At age sixty, probably simultaneously, they vanished. They did their work here and went somewhere else. The probability is vanishingly small that a similar pair has appeared since or will appear in the foreseeable future. While many scientists have advocated the repet.i.tion of such pregnancies as controlled experiments, it never has been done and probably never will be done. Psiontists of the requisite ability will not do it, and no others can.

As has been admitted, some material has been included here that is not incontrovertibly factual. There is only enough such material, however, to round out the treatment and make it complete. It will be observed that this solution of the problem does not conflict with any fact, and that it explains all pertinent facts. .h.i.therto inexplicable, such as, That the first psiontists developed their tremendous powers so quickly, so easily, and at that particular time. That interspatial transit was discovered and the course of Second s.p.a.ce civilization was changed at that particular time. That the widely variant abilities of two different civiliza- tions, in union both necessary and sufficient to crush the Garshan Empire, were brought together at that particular time. That the Garshan Great Day was just premature enough to insure its failure. And many other facts. .h.i.therto ascribed to coincidence: these are only a few examples.