VI

For one solid hour Hilton stared at the wall, motionless and silent.

Then, shaking himself and stretching, he glanced at his clock.

A little over an hour to supper-time. They'd all be aboard. He'd talk

this new idea over with Teddy Blake. He gathered up a few papers and was

stapling them together when Karns walked in.

"Hi, Bill--speak of the devil! I was just thinking about you."

"I'll just bet you were." Karns sat down, leaned over, and took a

cigarette out of the box on the desk. "And nothing printable, either."

"Chip-chop, fellow, on that kind of noise," Hilton said. The team-chief

looked actually haggard. Blue-black rings encircled both eyes. His

powerful body slumped. "How long has it been since you had a good

night's sleep?"

"How long have I been on this job? Exactly one hundred and twenty days.

I did get some sleep for the first few weeks, though."

"Yeah. So answer me one question. How much good will you do us after

they've wrapped you up in one of those canvas affairs that lace up the

back?"

"Huh? Oh ... but damn it, Jarve, I'm holding up the whole procession.

Everybody on the project's just sitting around on their tokuses waiting

for me to get something done and I'm not doing it. I'm going so slow a

snail is lightning in comparison!"

"Calm down, big fellow. Don't rupture a gut or blow a gasket. I've

talked to you before, but this time I'm going to smack you bow-legged.

So stick out those big, floppy ears of yours and really _listen_. Here

are three words that I want you to pin up somewhere where you can see

them all day long: SPEED IS RELATIVE. Look back, see how far up the hill

you've come, and then balance one hundred and twenty days against ten

years."

"What? You mean you'll actually sit still for me holding everything up

for ten years?"

"You use the perpendicular pronoun too much and in the wrong places. On

the hits it's 'we', but on the flops it's 'I'. Quit it. Everything on

this job is 'we'. Terra's best brains are on Team One and are going to

stay there. You will not--repeat NOT--be interfered with, pushed around

or kicked around. You see, Bill, I know what you're up against."

[Illustration]

"Yes, I guess you do. One of the damned few who do. But even if you

personally are willing to give us ten years, how in hell do you think

you can swing it? How about the Navy--the Stretts--even the Board?"

"They're my business, Bill, not yours. However, to give you a little

boost, I'll tell you. With the Navy, I'll give 'em the Fuel Bin if I

have to. The Omans have been taking care of the Stretts for twenty-seven

hundred centuries, so I'm not the least bit worried about their ability

to keep on doing it for ten years more. And if the Board--or anybody

else--sticks their runny little noses into Project Theta Orionis I'll

slap a quarantine onto both these solar systems that a microbe couldn't

get through!"

"You'd go _that_ far? Why, you'd be ..."

* * * * *

"Do you think I wouldn't?" Hilton snapped. "Look at me, Junior!" Eyes

locked and held. "Do you think, for one minute, that I'll let anybody on

all of God's worlds pull _me_ off of this job or interfere with my

handling of it unless and until I'm damned positively certain that we

can't handle it?"

Karns relaxed visibly; the lines of strain eased. "Putting it in those

words makes me feel better. I _will_ sleep to-night--and without any

pills, either."

"Sure you will. One more thought. We all put in more than ten years

getting our Terran educations, and an Oman education is a lot tougher."

Really smiling for the first time in weeks, Karns left the office and

Hilton glanced again at his clock.

Pretty late now to see Teddy ... besides, he'd better not. She was

probably keyed up about as high as Bill was, and in no shape to do the

kind of thinking he wanted of her on this stuff. Better wait a couple of

days.

On the following morning, before breakfast, Theodora was waiting for him

outside the mess-hall.

"Good morning, Jarve," she caroled. Reaching up, she took him by both

ears, pulled his head down and kissed him. As soon as he perceived her

intent, he cooperated enthusiastically. "What _did_ you do to Bill?"

"Oh, you don't love me for myself alone, then, but just on account of

_that_ big jerk?"

"That's right." Her artist's-model face, startlingly beautiful now,

fairly glowed.

Just then Temple Bells strolled up to them. "Morning, you two lovely

people." She hugged Hilton's arm as usual. "Shame on you, Teddy. But I

wish _I_ had the nerve to kiss him like that."

"Nerve? You?" Teddy laughed as Hilton picked Temple up and kissed her in

exactly the same fashion--he hoped!--as he had just kissed Teddy.

"You've got more nerve than an aching tooth. But as Jarve would say it,

'scat, kitten'. We're having breakfast _a la twosome_. We've got things

to talk about."

"All right for _you_," Temple said darkly, although her dazzling smile

belied her tone. That first kiss, casual-seeming as it had been, had

carried vastly more freight than any observer could perceive. "I'll hunt

Bill up and make passes at him, see if I don't. _That'll_ learn ya!"

* * * * *

Theodora and Hilton did have their breakfast _a deux_--but she did not

realize until afterward that he had not answered her question as to what

he had done to her Bill.

As has been said, Hilton had made it a prime factor of his job to become

thoroughly well acquainted with every member of his staff. He had

studied them _en masse_, in groups and singly. He had never, however,

cornered Theodora Blake for individual study. Considering the power and

the quality of her mind, and the field which was her specialty, it had

not been necessary.

Thus it was with no ulterior motives at all that, three evenings later,

he walked her cubby-hole office and tossed the stapled papers onto her

desk. "Free for a couple of minutes, Teddy? I've got troubles."

"I'll say you have." Her lovely lips curled into an expression he had

never before seen her wear--a veritable sneer. "But these are not them."

She tossed the papers into a drawer and stuck out her chin. Her face

turned as hard as such a beautiful face could. Her eyes dug steadily

into his.

Hilton--inwardly--flinched. His mind flashed backward. She too had been

working under stress, of course; but that wasn't enough. What could he

have _possibly_ done to put Teddy Blake, of all people, onto such a

warpath as this?

"I've been wondering when you were going to try to put _me_ through your

wringer," she went on, in the same cold, hard voice, "and I've been

waiting to tell you something. You have wrapped all the other women

around your fingers like so many rings--and what a _sickening_

exhibition that has been!--but you are not going to make either a ring

or a lap-dog out of me."

Almost but not quite too late Hilton saw through that perfect act. He

seized her right hand in both of his, held it up over her head, and

waved it back and forth in the sign of victory.

"Socked me with my own club!" he exulted, laughing delightedly,

boyishly. "And came within a tenth of a split red hair! If it hadn't

been so absolutely out of character you'd've got away with it. _What_ a

load of stuff! I was right--of all the women on this project, you're the

only one I've ever been really afraid of."

"Oh, damn. Ouch!" She grinned ruefully. "I hit you with everything I had

and it just bounced. You're an operator, chief. Hit 'em hard, at

completely unexpected angles. Keep 'em staggering, completely off

balance. Tell 'em nothing--let 'em deduce your lies for themselves. And

it anybody tries to slug you back, like I did just now, duck it and

clobber him in another unprotected spot. Watching you work has been not

only a delight, but also a liberal education."

* * * * *

"Thanks. I love you, too, Teddy." He lighted two cigarettes, handed her

one. "I'm glad, though, to lay it flat on the table with you, because in

any battle of wits with _you_ I'm licked before we start."

"Yeah. You just proved it. And after licking me hands down, you think

you can square it by swinging the old shovel that way?" She did not

quite know whether to feel resentful or not.

"Think over a couple of things. First, with the possible exception of

Temple Bells, you're the best brain aboard."

"No. You are. Then Temple. Then there are ..."

"Hold it. You know as well as I do that accurate self-judgment is

impossible. Second, the jam we're in. Do I, or don't I, want to lay it

on the table with you, now and from here on? Bore into that with your

Class A Double-Prime brain. Then tell me." He leaned back, half-closed

his eyes and smoked lazily.

She stiffened; narrowed her eyes in concentration; and thought. Finally:

"Yes, you do; and I'm gladder of that than you will ever know."

"I think I know already, since you're her best friend and the only other

woman I know of in her class. But I came in to kick a couple of things

around with you. As you've noticed, that's getting to be my favorite

indoor sport. Probably because I'm a sort of jackleg theoretician

myself."

"You can frame that, Jarve, as the understatement of the century. But

first, you are going to answer that question you sidestepped so neatly."

"What I did to Bill? I finally convinced him that nobody expected the

team to do that big a job overnight. That you could have ten years. Or

more, if necessary."

"I see." She frowned. "But you and I both know that we _can't_ string it

out that long."

He did not answer immediately. "We _could_. But we probably won't ...

unless we have to. We should know, long before that, whether we'll have

to switch to some other line of attack. You've considered the

possibilities, of course. Have you got anything in shape to do a

fine-tooth on?"

"Not yet. That is, except for the ultimate, which is too ghastly to even

consider except as an ultimately last resort. Have you?"

"I know what you mean. No, I haven't, either. You don't think, then,

that we had better do any collaborative thinking yet?"

"Definitely not. There's altogether too much danger of setting both our

lines of thought into one dead-end channel."

"Check. The other thing I wanted from you is your considered opinion as

to my job on the organization as a whole. And don't pull your punches.

Are we in good shape or not? What can I do to improve the setup?"

* * * * *

"I have already considered that very thing--at great length. And

honestly, Jarve, I don't see how it can be improved in any respect.

You've done a marvelous job. Much better than I thought possible at

first." He heaved a deep sigh of relief and she went on: "This could

very easily have become a God-awful mess. But the Board knew what they

were doing--especially as to top man--so there are only about four

people aboard who realize what you have done. Alex Kincaid and Sandra

Cummings are two of them. One of the three girls is very deeply and very

truly in love with you."

"Ordinarily I'd say 'no comment', but we're laying on the line ...

well ..."

"You'll lay _that_ on the line only if I corkscrew it out you, so I'll

Q.E.D. it. You probably know that when Sandy gets done playing around

it'll be ..."

"Bounce back, Teddy. She isn't--hasn't been. If anything, too much the

opposite. A dedicated-scientist type."

She smiled--a highly cryptic smile. For a man as brilliant and as

penetrant in every other respect ... but after all, if the big dope

didn't realize that half the women aboard, including Sandy, had been

making passes at him, she certainly wouldn't enlighten him. Besides,

that one particular area of obtuseness was a real part of his charm.

Wherefore she said merely: "I'm not sure whether I'm a bit catty or

you're a bit stupid. Anyway, it's Alex she's really in love with. And

you already know about Bill and me."

"Of course. He's tops. One of the world's very finest. You're in the

same bracket, and as a couple you're a drive fit. One in a million."

"Now I can say 'I love you, too', too." She paused for half a minute,

then stubbed out her cigarette and shrugged. "Now I'm going to stick my

neck way, way out. You can knock it off if you like. She's a tremendous

lot of woman, and if ... well, strong as she is, it'd shatter her to

bits. So, I'd like to ask ... I don't quite ... well, _is_ she going to

get hurt?"

"Have I managed to hide it _that_ well? From _you_?"

It was her turn to show relief. "Perfectly. Even--or especially--that

time you kissed her. So damned perfectly that I've been scared green.

I've been waking myself up, screaming, in the middle of the night. You

couldn't let on, of course. That's the hell of such a job as yours. The

rest of us can smooch around all over the place. I knew the question was

extremely improper--thanks a million for answering it."

"I haven't started to answer it yet. I said I'd lay everything on the

line, so here it is. Saying she's a tremendous lot of woman is like

calling the _Perseus_ a nice little baby's-bathtub toy boat. I'd go to

hell for her any time, cheerfully, standing straight up, wading into

brimstone and lava up to the eyeballs. If anything ever hurts her it'll

be because I'm not man enough to block it. And just the minute this

damned job is over, or even sooner if enough of you couples make it so I

can ..."

"Jarvis!" she shrieked. Jumping up, she kissed him enthusiastically.

"That's just wonderful!"

* * * * *

He thought it was pretty wonderful, too; and after ten minutes more of

conversation he got up and turned toward the door.

"I feel a lot better, Teddy. Thanks for being such a nice

pressure-relief valve. Would you mind it too much if I come in and sob

on your bosom again some day?"

"I'd love it!" She laughed; then, as he again started to leave: "Wait a

minute, I'm thinking ... it'd be more fun to sob on _her_ bosom. You

haven't even kissed her yet, have you? I mean _really_ kissed her?"

"You know I haven't. She's the one person aboard I can't be alone with

for a second."

"True. But I know of one chaperone who could become deaf and blind," she

said, with a broad and happy grin. "On my door, you know, there's a huge

invisible sign that says, to everyone except you, 'STOP! BRAIN AT WORK!

SILENCE!', and if I were properly approached and sufficiently urged, I

might ... I just _conceivably_ might ..."

"Consider it done, you little sweetheart! Up to and including my most

vigorous and most insidious attempts at seduction."

"Done. Maneuver your big, husky carcass around here behind the desk so

the door can open." She flipped a switch and punched a number. "I can

call anybody in here, any time, you know. Hello, dear, this is Teddy.

Can you come in for just a few minutes? Thanks." And, one minute later,

there came a light tap on the door.

"Come in," Teddy called, and Temple Bells entered the room. She showed

no surprise at seeing Hilton.

"Hi, chief," she said. "It must be something both big and tough, to have

you and Teddy both on it."

"You're so right. It was very big and very tough. But it's solved,

darling, so ..."

"_Darling?_" she gasped, almost inaudibly, both hands flying to her

throat. Her eyes flashed toward the other woman.

"Teddy knows all about us--accessory before, during and after the fact."

"_Darling!_" This time, the word was a shriek. She extended both arms

and started forward.

Hilton did not bother to maneuver his "big, husky carcass" around the

desk, but simply hurdled it, straight toward her.

* * * * *

Temple Bells was a tall, lithe, strong woman; and all the power of her

arms and torso went into the ensuing effort to crack Hilton's ribs.

Those ribs, however, were highly capable structural members; and

furthermore, they were protected by thick slabs of hard, hard muscle.

And, fortunately, he was not trying to fracture _her_ ribs. His

pressures were distributed much more widely. He was, according to

promise, doing his very best to flatten her whole resilient body out

flat.

And as they stood there, locked together in sheerest ecstasy, Theodora

Blake began openly and unashamedly to cry.

It was Temple who first came up for air. She wriggled loose from one of

his arms, felt of her hair and gazed unseeingly into her mirror. "That

was _wonderful_, sweetheart," she said then, shakily. "And I can _never_

thank you enough, Teddy. But we can't do this very often ... can we?"

The addendum fairly begged for contradiction.

"Not too often, I'm afraid," Hilton said, and Theodora agreed....

"Well," the man said, somewhat later, "I'll leave you two ladies to

your knitting, or whatever. After a couple of short ones for the road,

that is."

"Not looking like that!" Teddy said, sharply. "Hold still and we'll

clean you up." Then, as both girls went to work:

"If anybody ever sees you coming out of this office looking like

_that_," she went on, darkly, "and Bill finds out about it, he'll think

it's _my_ lipstick smeared all over you and I'll strangle you to death

with my bare hands!"

"And that was supposed to be kissproof lipstick, too," Temple said,

seriously--although her whole face glowed and her eyes danced. "You

know, I'll never believe another advertisement I read."

"Oh, I wouldn't go so far as to say that, if I were you." Teddy's voice

was gravity itself, although she, too, was bubbling over. "It probably

_is_ kissproof. I don't think 'kissing' is quite the word for the

performance you just staged. To stand up under such punishment as you

gave it, my dear, anything would have to be tattooed in, not just put

on."

"Hey!" Hilton protested. "You promised to be deaf and blind!"

"I did no such thing. I said 'could', not 'would'. Why, I wouldn't have

missed that for _anything_!"

When Hilton left the room he was apparently, in every respect, his usual

self-contained self. However, it was not until the following morning

that he so much as thought of the sheaf of papers lying unread in the

drawer of Theodora Blake's desk.