"We got the hell out of there," Stewart said, "without even having seen
a Hyadean. We figured that if there was another intelligent race in
this part of the galaxy, it might be a hostile one. And our worlds had
to know about it. We couldn't chance being captured.
"So we started making subspace leaps back home. One of those jumps
ended here--where we had dropped off the telepuppet barge on our way
out. At long range, we had a look at that team. And there was an alien
ship down there--maybe the same one that attacked us this morning. It
could only mean that the Hyadeans were expanding into our sector of the
galaxy."
Stewart paused and stared at the cave floor, still confused over what
had made him forget all that. Then he went on, but only surmising the
rest:
"Don't you see? That ship must have captured us--removed from our minds
the fact that we had discovered their nest in the Hyades. That way,
we would never suspect we were about to run into opposition in our
expansion. We'd be caught off guard, while the Hyadeans would have time
for arming!"
Again, he paused uncertainly. "They must have also planted the false
impression that there were many Earth-type worlds in the Hyades--so
they could pick us off, ship by ship, as--"
But Randall was shaking his head miserably.
* * * * *
"No, Dave," the director said finally. "The Hyadeans did not brainwash
you. _I_ did. I also planted the false impression--to justify this
mission. It was necessary that only _I_ know the true situation."
Stewart staggered back.
"Yes," the other went on, "after you and Harlston told me there was
another culture out there of undetermined size and intentions, I
almost hit the panic stud. Two cultures expanding toward each other,
previously unaware of each other's existence. The wrong move could be
the shot heard around the galaxy.
"What to do? Report it to higher authorities? No. For I saw immediately
what would happen: 'menace from space'; Terra and Centauri Three, our
other worlds--'helpless before an unknown terror'; all that sort of
stuff. Anybody could appreciate what the consequences would be.
"Send out a single ship to try for peaceful contact? But who would buy
a scheme like that? Instead it would have been: Send out a thousand
ships armed with laser intensifiers of every caliber, all manned by
green, trigger-happy kids who had never fired a shot in battle back to
the eighth generation before them."
Stewart realized there was no reason not to believe him. For, all
along, Randall had acted as though he _expected_ to run into something
like an alien ship.
The director lowered himself wearily onto the transceiver and folded
his hands. "Anyway, from what you reported, I had hopes that there
_could_ perhaps be peaceful contact--between two single, unarmed ships.
The evidence seemed to point in that direction.
"There were our telepuppets, for instance. The OC had quit
transmitting--a year ago. Later you tell me you sighted an alien ship
on Aldebaran Four-B. If you put two and two together, you come out with
something that looks like a logical four."
He fished for his pipe, stuck it between his teeth, but forgot to light
it. "If we have hostile aliens working in our direction and planning on
surprising us, would they interfere with our robots? Of course not. For
then we would send a trouble-shooting gang out here to put the puppets
back on their strings. And we might discover them and mess up their
strategy.
"So, since the Hyadeans weren't aware you had discovered them in
their own cluster, the malfunctioning telepuppets could mean only one
thing: They had stumbled upon our robots, reconciled themselves to the
existence of another intelligent culture, and _purposely_ interfered
with the operation of our team."
"But why would they do that?" Carol asked, perplexed.
"As I figured it, that action practically amounted to an engraved
calling card--requesting our appearance in the interest of amiable
relations."
His final words rasped in his throat and he added remorsefully, "But I
was wrong--oh, so wrong! It was only a trap. They just wanted to get us
here so they could fire their opening shots!"
* * * * *
McAllister cut loose with a string of expletives. Mortimer only shook
his head despondently.
Carol spread her hands. "But why didn't you tell the rest of us what we
were getting into?"
Randall laughed in self-disparagement. "Oh, it was part of my grand
strategy. I didn't want anybody along who knew what the real setup was.
If this was going to be a try for peaceful contact, there'd be no room
for possible hostile predispositions built up during nerve-wracking
weeks of suspense while traveling to Four-B.
"You see, I even allowed for the possibility that the aliens might be
telepathic, or at least have long-range instruments which could dig
into our minds. If so, I was determined they would find nothing there
to touch off an incident. I went out of my way to pick McAllister and
Mortimer, who wouldn't _fight_ their way out of a torn paper bag. I
didn't want any trigger-happy, eager Bureau boys who might start
fissioning at half critical mass."
The pilot and ship systems officer grumbled, but sat still.
"I wanted you along, Dave," Randall went on, "because you are
dependable and reasonably pacifistic. And since you already knew,
subconsciously, what the setup was, you'd be useful. Because if trouble
developed it would break your conditioning."
"And Carol." He smiled at the girl. "I brought her because I was aware
of the tender sentiments between you two--perhaps even more aware than
you yourselves were. If those Hyadeans _could_ see inside us, they'd
know something of our gentler sentiments."
Randall snorted. "But I guessed wrong. My entire strategy wasn't worth
the brain it was dreamed up in. I led us into a trap. It was the
Hyadeans who turned up in a ship bristling with laser weapons. They
had not, after all, sent us an engraved come-and-get-acquainted card.
Instead, it was come-into-my-parlor."
Stewart was still having difficulty getting it straight in his mind.
Somehow, it seemed there were still unanswered questions. But he felt
too numb even to wonder about his dissatisfaction.
"The upshot of everything," he said, "seems to be that we've had it.
Even if that Hyadean ship doesn't finish us off, there's no way we can
get a warning back home."
The director smiled finally. "Give me credit for at least one redeeming
bit of foresight. I _did_ conceive of the possibility that something
like this might happen. So when I conditioned you and Harlston, I
arranged it that the conditioning would break down in another three
weeks. Harlston will then report everything. And the Bureau will guess
why they haven't heard from us."
* * * * *
To Minnie's utter confusion, the great pink sphere had risen yet there
had been no subsequent Pilgrimage to Totem. She spent an eternity, it
seemed, pondering that enigma but getting nowhere.
Eventually Screw Worm erupted from the ground--oh, so slowly, so
sluggishly--and rolled toward her with his load of mineral specimens.
When he tried to force the substance into her intake slot, however, she
only turned away dispiritedly, still mourning the loss of communication
with all the others.
Screw dropped his specimens and squirmed around, tilting feebly into
the attitude for boring down again.
His jets came on weakly, managing to rotate him only three or four
times before giving out completely. Then he fell into a strange
motionlessness.
Minnie prodded him with her chuck. He toppled over, but did not stir.
Disturbed, she sent a "report-your-location" command.
But there was no response.
Like Bigboss, he was totally inoperative. Like Peter the Meter and
Maggie and Grazer and Breather and all the others, he, too, was now a
victim of the stubborn stillness.
Confused, Minnie stumbled forward, realizing that her motor circuits
were not responding as lively as they always had. Too, she was having
some difficulty evaluating and rationalizing.
Then an odd thought occurred to her: She had devoted most of her time
since becoming Supreme Being to considering how she should act. Her
motor activity had been at a minimum. The other members of the clan,
on the other hand, had continued their physical tasks. And now they
were all motionless. Only she had any power left. Could the formula be:
Motion minus the presence of Bigboss equals eventual immobility?
If that were the case, then how hollow, indeed, was the distinction of
being the successor to the Omnipotent One!
If she was going to act like a Supreme Being, she decided suddenly, she
would have to do so in a hurry. But do--_what_?
Then she finally hit upon the answer: She must be about Bigboss' work
of destroying non-Totemic pretenders.
And she knew just where to find _five_ of the despicable things!