"Not crazy. Just getting nervous." Pete jammed his hands into his
pockets. "Do you realize where _we're_ standing in this thing? We're out
on a limb--way out. We're fighting for time--time for Charlie and his
gang to crack the puzzle, time for the Grdznth girls to gestate. But
what are we hearing from Charlie?"
"Pete, Charlie can't just--"
"That's right," said Pete. "_Nothing_ is what we're hearing from
Charlie. We've got no transmatter, no null-G, no power, nothing except a
whole lot of Grdznth and more coming through just as fast as they can.
I'm beginning to wonder what the Grdznth _are_ giving us."
"Well, they can't gestate forever."
"Maybe not, but I still have a burning desire to talk to Charlie.
Something tells me they're going to be gestating a little too long."
They put through the call, but Charlie wasn't answering. "Sorry," the
operator said. "Nobody's gotten through there for three days."
"Three days?" cried Tommy. "What's wrong? Is he dead?"
"Couldn't be. They burned out two more machines yesterday," said the
operator. "Killed the switchboard for twenty minutes."
"Get him on the wire," Tommy said. "That's orders."
"Yes, sir. But first they want you in Analysis."
Analysis was a shambles. Paper and tape piled knee-deep on the floor.
The machines clattered wildly, coughing out reams of paper to be gulped
up by other machines. In a corner office they found the Analysis man,
pale but jubilant.
"The Program," Tommy said. "How's it going?"
"You can count on the people staying happy for at least another five
months." Analysis hesitated an instant. "If they see some baby Grdznth
at the end of it all."
There was dead silence in the room. "Baby Grdznth," Tommy said finally.
"That's what I said. That's what the people are buying. That's what
they'd better get."