"O.K. Ivor Vincent Callum."
Moya's face blanched; he took a backward step and uttered something
under his breath that sounded like the Spanish equivalent of--
He turned abruptly, opened the panel, and stalked out.
Somehow I expected him to come back and ask for details, but he didn't
show.
* * * * *
I won't dwell on the trip. Any schoolboy who watches tridee space operas
can quote chapter and verse and use phrases like "paraspace hops" and
"rip-psyche phenomenon" as trippingly as "Hey, Joey, let's play
swap-strip!" Citizens from Venus and Mars, vacationing on Terra, speak
knowingly, too, whenever they can bring themselves to cease complaining
about the gravity, crowded conditions, and regimentation, and can
squelch the bragging about how well they're doing on good old whatever.
But don't let them kid you. GSM drive is restricted to _interstellar_
transport. Colonists from the nearer systems are picked people,
stiff-backed pioneers, who don't sob to come "home" every time their
particular planet completes a circuit around its primary; and, when they
do return, they're generally too busy lobbying for essentials to bother
telling tall tales. So, comparatively few people are really familiar
with star ships and the ins and outs of paraspace. Ask a starman, you
won't have any trouble recognizing one, even in mufti; or, better yet,
get a spool labeled: "THE CONQUEST OF PARASPACE: A History of the
Origins and Early Application of Star Drive." It's old, but good, and it
was written especially for laymen.
[Illustration]
I'll say this: it took about a week. Sure paraspace hops are, to all
intents and purposes, instantaneous, but there is a limit to the
capacity of the GSM drive, and regulations restrict the jumps to a
toleration well within that capacity. We might have made it sooner had
we not been bound to follow 231's space plan--but not much. Once a plan
has been filed, only an emergency can justify deviation. So, if you'll
pardon the expression, let's just say that interstellar distances are
astronomical.
Every time we came back into objective space--and I'd managed to
recapture my soul--I applied myself to the tapes.
I got little from Moya, and not because of enmity. Even after refreshing
his memory, he couldn't offer much. Although he had been master of the
ship that had first remarked E-T, he hadn't set foot upon its surface.
The planet was comparatively undistinguished.
It was about the size of Melna-Terra, had an atmosphere with a good
balance of nitrogen and oxygen, plus carbon dioxide, argon, et cetera,
was mostly surface water, yet offered polar ice caps and a reasonable
land area, as taken in the aggregate, although present in the form of
scattered, insular masses. The largest of these, about half the size of
Terra's Australia, was a comfortable number of degrees above the equator
and had been selected as representative for detailed examination.
Briefly: standard terrain--a balance between mountains, desert, and
plain; flora, varied; fauna, primitive--plenty of insect life, enough to
keep an entomologist occupied for years, but not much for specialists in
the other branches of zoölogy; warm-blooded creatures comparatively
rare; and, according to the original survey team, nothing bacterial that
had overburdened Doc Yakamura's polyvalent vaccine; the kind of planet
that pleased Galactic Survey because it looked promising for future
colonization, come the day and the need.
"The type that skeptics like me view with grave suspicion," I told Moya.
"Like saints, women of unblemished reputation, heroes, politicians--"
"And all Interstel agents," Tony offered dryly.
In the interim, since the divulgence of my part in the Stuart affair,
Moya had thawed somewhat. After all, he and I had been friends at one
time, and the present situation held no brief for head-on, personality
clashes. The phrase "all in the same boat" applies with particular
meaning to spacers. Tony undoubtably figured that 231 might have been
his ship. He even went so far as to express an interest in seeing E-T
from the ground level.
"I work alone, Tony," I said. "But thanks for the offer. Tell you what:
I'll strike a compromise. If I get into serious trouble, it'll be you I
shout for. All right?"