"He was transferred to XXX Base three days ago, right after he left your
ship. Couldn't let him run around here for a while. Not after the
trouble with your crew--somebody might recognize him. Besides, he
already has another assignment there."
"I think it was a pretty stupid thing," Maise grumbled. "He was so
obvious. And suppose I hadn't warned him about it that night, or that I
hadn't been there when the spore-poisoning idea came to a head among the
crew? They might really have tried to get him outside the dome, or to
get a spore culture inside. And then we'd all be sick or dead."
"Not likely, sir," the SR Officer said with a polite, knowing smile.
"You see, the aliens are presumably susceptible to their own
bacteriological weapons. At least we think so from the way they went
about it. They want our planets, and they didn't want to have to
decontaminate them when they took them over. Besides, it's practically
impossible to decontaminate an entire planet, anyway."
"But we did it with Earth."
"For morale purposes, Central Authority let it be known that they were
able to decontaminate it, but what actually happened was that the spores
lost their effectiveness within a few years of their original seeding.
I'm surprised they didn't tell you that in the beginning--" He caught
himself suddenly, then shrugged and smiled again.
"Maybe you aren't supposed to be told," he continued without
embarrassment. "It's sometimes hard for me to know about such things.
You have no idea how confused the directives can get in an organization
this large. Anyway, as you can see, your men couldn't have poisoned
Frendon or themselves or anybody else with those spores. That's why we
have been using that particular form of suggested violence in this
unpleasant business. If, as you pointed out, something unexpected did
happen, it would be absolutely harmless. Naturally," he added, "we
wouldn't like to risk unnecessarily a professional actor with such a
remarkably suitable physical appearance as Commander Frendon--even if
the poor fellow doesn't have the slightest trace of psi ability."
Maise gaped at him for a moment as he comprehended the careful,
knowledgeable planning behind the ruse, much of which had not been
explained to him before in his briefings. He said, "And I guess there is
still a lot more about it that I don't know."
The SR Officer nodded agreement. "Neither you nor I," he replied in bald
understatement. "After all, there are some pretty intelligent men in
charge of this last-ditch defense of our species, and they do keep a few
of the more important things to themselves. For your own safety among
your crew, I suggest that you keep this spore business equally secret."
"I don't need your advice for that," Maise said with a low voice and a
wry grin on his face. But the grin vanished as he stood up to go. He
hesitated and shook his head uncertainly.
"So that takes care of that," the SR concluded. "Now you're all set,
aren't you?"
"All set?" Maise murmured, half to himself. "Hell, I'm just starting,
and I'm scared. When the boys asked me if I trusted the intuition of the
Psi Corps men, I suddenly realized that I really wasn't quite sure
myself. I've studied and worked for two solid years under extraordinary
teachers, and back on Earth they said I was unusually good. But now that
men's lives will depend on it, it almost seems like something out of a
joke book." He stopped talking and sighed. "Well, that's the way it has
to be, I guess."
He turned to go, but the SR Officer called him back. "Just a minute,
sir," he said. "You forgot to sign this report. You are the originating
officer, you know."
"Oh, yes." Maise went back to the desk. He picked up a pen and riffled
through the pages to the last one. There he signed his name, scribbling
rapidly,
"Alton A. B. Maise, Acting Lieutenant SCS Commander, Psi Corps."
"There you are, lieutenant," he muttered, and started walking on back to
the field where his ship was waiting.