Eckisster's lower lip curled. "Don't use that tone of voice on me,
Roysland. I don't like it. I want you to find out a few things. What's
happening? Why do they attack this way and do nothing? What sort of
gadget do they have? Is there any defense against it? Can we make it?
Can we--"
His voice trailed off. Roysland had stood up and walked around his desk
until he was less than a yard from the image of the general director.
He knew full well that his own image in the director's office was doing
the same thing. And in spite of the fact that Eckisster knew the image
was harmless, Roysland's impressive mass quieted him.
When he spoke, Roysland's voice was low. "Now you listen to me,
Eckisster. You want me to solve this problem. O.K. I want to figure
it out as much as you do, but I can't do a thing without data. I have
to know what has happened, and I have to know exactly how it happened.
So don't come busting in on me with a lot of vague hints when I'm
thinking. I don't have to put up with that sort of stuff; either give
me the data on what happened, or go yak at someone else while I figure
this out without any help from you."
Eckisster looked up at the bulk of bone and muscle that towered
over him. "Don't get excited, Roysland," he said. "I'll forgive your
impertinence: it's just that I'm so worried, myself."
"O.K. You're excused, too. Now, what's this about shipping being
attacked?"
Eckisster glanced to one side and reached for something outside the
pickup field. The end of his arm vanished and reappeared holding a
sheaf of papers. "Of course, a copy of this will be sent to your office
right away, but I can give you the essentials now.
"Two unarmed cargo vessels left Belixa III a week ago, bound for Niadel
V. They were escorted by a light cruiser of the _Sidneg_ class. They
were picked up, off course, after they had passed the Niadel sun;
nobody on board had even bothered to eat for four days.
"They probably wouldn't have been found at all if they'd been ordinary
merchant vessels, but the local government on Niadel V was looking for
them; there'd been an epidemic of some sort there, and these ships were
on an emergency run with antibiotics of some kind."
Roysland stepped back and sat on the edge of his desk. "Got all three
of them?"
"All three of them," said Eckisster emphatically. "Now, I'll send this
report over to you immediately. We'll have to get some action. If the
Enlissa can get in this close, they may decide to attack Kandoris
itself! Your job is Special Weapons. Find a screen of some sort that
will protect us from this--whatever it is."
"Call it a mindjammer," Roysland said. "One of the inspectors used that
word, and I kind of like it."
"You like it." Eckisster's voice was cutting. "I don't like anything
that does _that_ to a human brain. Get busy and find some way to beat
it."
Roysland started to explain that he liked the word--not the object--but
the general director's image was already dissolving. Roysland stepped
back behind his desk and dialed a number. A few seconds later,
Bilford's image materialized. The nervous little man looked more
nervous than ever.
* * * * *
"What is it, Roysland? More trouble? I hope not. I've had Eckisster on
my neck all morning."
"I know; I just got him off mine. But I wanted to ask you something. Is
there any correlation between the frequencies that help those men and
the frequency of the feedback circuit in their prefrontal lobes?"
Bilford frowned in thought. "I don't know; I'd never thought of it from
that angle. They don't have any obvious correlation, I can tell you
that. I'll check on it, though. I'll run it through the differential
analyzer."