"Yes, they did. And it's sure going to play bell with !

normal operations, if there are any such things by now."

A pause. "Well, we came back home. And one of the dumbskulls wasn't even going to let us do that, until-"

Lisa's voice. "He was really stubborn about it. Until I told him, quite sweetly, that unless he let us go home im- mediately, I was going to commit an unsanitary nuisance on th& floor right in front of him." She laughed. "Thank heavens, there are limits to what even massive stupidity

can put up with."

Barton didn't laugh, but he came close to it. Then there

was some more talk, but by now Barton knew the gist of it. Bearpaw needed to let off some steam, was all, so

Barton didn't mind listening.

When the call was done, Limila poured them a UttU wine and they sat together, not saying much. Her hug jammed the hidden equipment against his ribs, so ht opened the jumpsuit and got the items off his person, tell- ing her what worked and what didn't. When be went tc close the jumpsuit, her hand was in the way, so hf changed his thinking. Lovemaking had been less frequeni as her pregnancy advanced, but if Limila was in thf mood, so was Barton,

To Barton's mind, the next few days were what you might call odd, if you couldn't spell ridiculous. He anri Ren Bearpaw were probably as silly as the rest, he sup.

posed; they kept thinking up flawed plans to spring Ferenc Szabo out of siege, and he kept telling them not t< bother, just yet. Judging by cryptic remarks over thi intercom, Mark Gyril was going all out on his chemica warfare. Loading people up with drugs, to see how fa they could get against the wishes .of the Others, didn work now; Soong's guards turned them back before th Others had a chance to. So Gyril, if Barton had this righ tried doping the air in the corridor where Soong's gunme guarded Ferenc's quarters. But maybe Gyril didn't kno the air-supply system too well; that's what Barton di

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duced when he heard about the sudden hay fever out- break in an entirely different part of the ship.

Barton also deduced that if Soong ever figured out what was happening, he'd have a few people shot. It was quite a circus. Barton thought, but did it have to be all clowns? Because it wasn't funny at all. Not when he thought about the stakes, it wasn't.

Barton hadn't quite believed Bearpaw's tape on the subject of Base back on Earth, the idiocy of its earlier directives. Now, on the basis of flimsies that Ren smug- gled down from Comm, Barton had to believe. Soong bad killed only the transmit side of the Phasewave gear; mes- sages still came in. In reaction to Soong's proclamation, Base first demanded that Soong crawl back into pokey and leave Ferenc Szabo in charge. Next, that he acknowl- edge and comply with the original "get lost" order. And finally came a confused-sounding plea that boiled down to: "Just say something!"

So nothing happened, and Barton stewed. He didn't have to stew all in one place, though, because he and Limila had enough semi-official status, which Soong hadn't got around to revoke, that they could visit various working areas of the ship without challenge. And, of course, the-gaUey. That's where Barton first saw Soong, in person.

He and Limila were sharing a snack with Mark Cyril and Elys Rounds when Cyril's elbow dug into. his ribs.

*There's Soong now." Barton looked. Flanked by two armed guards, a fat man walked with tired step, and took a seat at an empty table. One guard went to bring him a tray; at distance. Barton couldn't see what was on it. He was looking at the man, anyway. Looking, and remembering. A long time ago, before the Demu had taken Barton and changed his life. And, as it bad turned out, their own, as well....

Picture on the front page, Arnold Soong, lean and se- rious. The dedicated astronaut. The shuttle had malfunc- tioned but Soong brought it down with minimum Uamage and no casualties. That incident made him a minor hero;

the one that made him a major one had occurred while Barton was in the Demu cage on Ashura, and he'd never learned all the details. Merely that Soong had endured more fatigue and deprivation than most people could sur- vive, and by the doing bad saved some lives. Inclirf1'' i a

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V.I.P., but Barton didn't count that in for points; what he did count was the guts the job had needed.

Looking now, all he saw was a paunch, and a slack face that showed no determination. What changed this man? Well, he knew some of what could happen; he'd seen it in Nam; there were people who could transcend themselves once-twice, maybe-and then they collapsed into less than they'd been to start with. Too bad, but when the mainspring breaks, there's nothing left to wind up again.

Gradually the galley had gone quiet; by tuning his ears in the right direction. Barton could pick up most of what< was said at Captain Soong's table. It came clear that the captain thought he had everything under control; he re- sented the idea that he was supposed to take any action.

The older woman-Command-Second Nargilosa, and Barton had seen her before-tried in a gentle way to persuade him, but Soong wasn't having any of it. What he had in mind was griping at his strong-arm boys for not breaking Ferenc Szabo out of the quarters into which Soong had assembled so much comfort and luKury. At the same time he made it clear that they were not to damage so much as a thread of his precious carpets.

Barton shook his head. Some people didn't seem to think, at alL Himself, he had an idea. He didn't figure his companions would like it, so he didn't ask them. Instead he got up, empty coffee cu'p in bis hand, and started over for a refill. Two tables away he set the cup down and changed course. When. he came to Captain Soong's table,'

he expected a guard to stop him, and that's what hap- pened.

"What do you want?"

Walking over. Barton had prepared his lines. "Fd like to pay my respects to the captain, since we haven't met.

And present the greetings of the first fleet, from Admiral Tarleton."

He'd figured to make a splash, and it worked. Soong said, "It's been so busy, you know-so hectic. But I've heard rumors. You are ... ?"

"Barton." He reached out a hand for shaking, and thf l^uard moved back until the reach made it. "Vice-Admira (Barton. In case nobody told you, we won the Demu wai without a fight." And while he had the initiative, Bartoi sat down without an invitation. The guard gave him i hard look. Barton looked back, trying to look mnocen

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but not feeling very confident about that. The guard turned away, and came back with wine and coffee for Barton. Well, you never know until you try....

Soong coughed; Nargilosa patted his back until he gulped a time or two and could speak again. "But I don't understand. What are you doing here?"

Good question-and Barton had no answer prepared, so he faked it. "Ambassador plenipotentiary." He hoped to hell he'd said it halfway right, and that he and Soong had the same idea of its meaning. But the main thing was, for now, that it sounded good.

It meant nothing. Barton knew, but the afternoon in Soong's displaced quarters gave him a real kick. He frowned at the text Nargilosa had written, and sipped at Soong's good wine. "... to be respected by both panics in perpetuity. Yes, good; I like that. Now, then," he con- tinued. "Section two, clause three. In the event that ..."

He shot the whole afternoon that way. Barton did. -And the only way he could have enjoyed it more would have been if he believed it. Because the thing they were dis- cussing so gravely was the draft of a treaty between the human race and the Others on Opal. Which meant that Soong still thought he could get the ship back there. ' g

The funny part. Barton thought, was that Soong was really a likable oldphart. He shouldn't have been in com- mand of anything, was all. It wasn't his mind that had gone flyblown; it was his perceptivity and initiative.

Within the limits of his understanding of a situation-, his logic worked fairly well. The trouble was that those' limits didn't stretch very far, so he came out looking more stupid than he should have.

What Barton was after, in a vague sort of way, was to probe the extent of the Others' influence over Captain Soong. Hints weren't getting him anywhere, so when they came to the end of the treaty draft, he asked straight out.

"When we get to this planet we're aimed for, what dp we do then?"

Soong's heavy shoulders moved a little. "Go into orbit, I suppose. To save fuel, and avoid adding any more dis- tance between ourselves and Opal, while I convince my mutinous Command-First that we have to get back to' that planet."

"Why do we?" Soong looked blank. "Have to g& there, I mean." ,.

t

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"Why, it's necessaryl How else can we negotiate the treaty?" So the Others were learning. Now they didn't merely use straight mental pressure; they'd given Soong a reason he could accept. And of course he was a soft touch for them because he'd never been any part of Szabo's mental-resistance group effort. Along with his rank, that vulnerability made him an ideal tool.

Idly, Barton asked, "Who's putting us in orbit, when

the time comes?'*

Soong blinked. "Why, I will, I suppose, since Szabo's not available." Ferenc had programmed the course to end in orbit, but the fine corrections couldn't be set up in ad- vance; all his program could do was get the ship to ap- proximately the right place, then leave some time for maneuvering before automatic timing cut the drive. So the final jiggling had to be done accurately.

And Soong's reflexes. Barton had noticed, were woe- fully slow, he dropped things, for instance, and grabbed too late. Well, Barton was done here, anyway; it was time

to go do something.

He thanked the captain for his hospitality and made a point of being equally gracious to Geta Nargilosa. She was older than Soong, but still slim and erect. And now Barton remembered who she was, from the old days: one of the first of the women astronauts, but for years she'd been kept out of space, and when she did get upstairs it JI was in subordinate roles. Maybe, he thought, that was why she seemed to have no force to her, now. Too many years spent trying to please, to get the assignments that were her just due, by not offending anybody. It could

happen; too bad it sometimes did.

Finally he got back to quarters, and called Ron Bear- paw. "Why don't a bunch of us eat together, for dinner?"

he said. The galley was one place they could meet, with- out interference from the corridor guards. "Eighteen hun- !'.. dred hours; right." Before they met, though, he told Limila what was on his mind.