"No objections, Doctor," snapped Thorton. "Important people are
waiting for you. That is all." The telecom darkened.
"I think you heard what he said, Dr. Cameron." The officer at his side
was very polite. He could afford to be, with the rank of three big
planets on his tunic.
"Very well," Cameron answered. "But as commander of the asteroid, I
request that you furnish a guard for the girl."
"Commander?" repeated the officer. "That's funny--my orders indicate
that I am, until further notice. I haven't got that notice." He looked
around at his men and crooked a finger. "Lieutenant, see that the
little fellow--Jordan, I think his name is--gets a lift back to the
main dome. And you can walk the pretty lady to her room. Or whatever
it is she lives in." He smiled negligently at Cameron. "Anything to
oblige another commander."
* * * * *
The medicouncilor, Thorton, was waiting impatiently on the telecom
when they got to Cameron's office.
"We will arrive in about two hours," he said immediately. "When I say
we, I mean a number of top governmental officials and scientists.
Meanwhile, let's get on with this gravital business." He caught sight
of the commander. "General Judd, this is a technical matter. I don't
think you'll be interested in it."
"Very well, sir. I'll stand guard outside."
The medicouncilor was silent until the door closed behind General
Judd. "Sit down, Docchi," he said with unexpected kindness. He paused
to note the effect. "I can sympathize with you. You had everything you
wanted nearly within your reach. And, after that, to return to
Handicap Haven--well, I can understand how you feel. But since you did
return, I think we can arrange to do something for you."
Docchi stared at the man on the screen. A spot of light pulsed on his
cheek and then flared rapidly over his face.
"Sure," he said casually. "But there are criminal charges against me."
"A formality," said the medicouncilor. "With a thing like the
discovery--or rediscovery--of the gravital drive to think about, no
one is going to worry much about your unauthorized departure from the
asteroid."
Medicouncilor Thorton sounded pleased. "I don't want to mislead you.
We can't do any more for you medically than has already been done.
However, you will find yourself the center of a more adequate social
life. Friends, work, whatever you want. Naturally, in return for this,
we will expect your full cooperation."
"Naturally." Docchi blinked at him and got to his feet. "Sounds
interesting. I'd like to think about it for a minute."
Cameron planted himself squarely in front of the screen. "Maybe I
don't understand. I think you've got the wrong person."
"Dr. Cameron!" Thorton glowered. "Please explain."
"It was an easy mistake to make," said Cameron. "Cut off from
communication, the gravital drive began to work. How? Why? Mostly, who
did it? You knew it wasn't I. I'm a doctor, not a physicist. Nor
Jordan, he's at best a mechanic. Therefore it had to be Docchi,
because he's an engineer. He could make it work. But it wasn't Docchi.
He had nothing to do with--"
"Look out!" cried Thorton too late.
Cameron fell to his knees. The same foot that brought him down crashed
into his chin. His head snapped back and he sprawled on the floor.
Blood trickled from his face.
"Docchi!" shouted Thorton from the screen.
Docchi didn't answer. He was crashing through the door. The commander
was lounging against the wall. Head down, Docchi ran into him. The
toaster fell from his belt to the floor. With scarcely a pause, Docchi
stamped on it and continued running.
The commander got to his feet and retrieved the weapon. He aimed it
tentatively at the retreating figure; a thought occurred to him and he
lowered it. He examined the damaged mechanism. After that, it went
gingerly into a tunic pocket.
Muffled shouts were coming from Cameron's office. The general broke
in.
The medicouncilor glared at him from the screen. "I can see that you
let him get away."
The disheveled officer straightened his uniform. "I'm sorry, sir. I'll
alert the guards immediately."
"Never mind now. Revive that man."
The general wasn't accustomed to giving resuscitation; it was out of
his line. Nevertheless, in a few minutes Cameron was conscious, though
somewhat dazed.
"Now then, Doctor, if it wasn't Docchi who was responsible for the
sudden functioning of the gravital drive, who was it?"
With satisfaction, Cameron told him. He had not been wrong about the
girl. Listening to the detailed explanation of Nona's mental
abilities, the general was perplexed, as generals sometimes are.
"I see." The medicouncilor nodded. "We overlooked that possibility
altogether. Not the mechanical genius of an engineer. Instead, the
strange telepathic sense of a girl. That puts the problem in a
different light."
"It does." Cameron pressed his aching jaw. "She can't tell us how she
does it. We'll have to experiment. Fortunately, it won't involve any
danger. With the monitor system we can always control the gravital
drive."
The medicouncilor leaned perilously backward and shook his head.
"You're wrong. It's supposed to, but it doesn't. We tried. For a
microsecond, the monitor did take over, but the gravital computer is
smarter than we thought, if it _was_ the computer that figured out the
method. It found a way of cutting the power from the monitor circuit.
It didn't respond at all."
Cameron forgot his jaw. "If you didn't bring the rocket back on
remote, why did she come?"
"Docchi knows," growled the medicouncilor. "He found out in this room.
That's why he escaped." He tapped on his desk with blunt fingers. "She
could have taken the ship anywhere she pleased and we couldn't have
stopped her. Since she voluntarily came back, it's obvious that she
wants the asteroid!"
Medicouncilor Thorton tried to shove his face out of the screen and
into the room. "Don't you ever think, General? There isn't any real
difference between gravital units except size and power. What she did
to the ship she can do as easily to the asteroid." He thrust out a
finger and pointed angrily. "Don't stand there, General Judd. Find
that girl!"
It was late for that kind of command. The great dome overhead trembled
and creaked in countless joints. The little world shivered, groaned as
if it had lain too long in an age-old orbit. It began to move.
* * * * *
Vague shapes stirred, crawled, walked if they could. Fantastic and
near-fantastic figures came to the assembly. Huge or tiny, on their
own legs or borrowed ones, they arrived, with or without arms, faces.
The word had spread by voice, by moving lips, by sign languages of
every sort.
"Remember, it will be hours or perhaps days before we're safe," said
Docchi. His voice was growing hoarse. "It's up to us to see that Nona
has all the time she needs."
"Where is she hiding?" asked someone from the crowd.
"I don't know. If I did, I still wouldn't tell you. It's our job to
keep them from finding her."
"How?" demanded one near the front. "Fight the guards?"
"Not directly," said Docchi. "We have no arms in the sense of weapons.
Many of us have no arms in any sense. All we can hope to do is
obstruct their search. Unless someone has a better idea, this is what
I plan:
"I want all the men, older women, and the younger ones who aren't
suitable for reasons I'll explain later. The guards won't be here for
another half hour--it will take that long to get them together and
give them the orders that the Medicouncil must be working out now.
When they do come, get in their way.
"How you do that, I'll leave to your imagination. Appeal to their
sympathy as long as they have any. Put yourself in dangerous
situations. They have ethics; at first they'll be inclined to help
you. When they do, try to steal their weapons. Avoid physical violence
as much as you can. We don't want to force them into retaliation. Make
the most of that phase of their behavior. It won't last long."
Docchi paused and looked over the crowd. "Each of you will have to
decide for himself when to drop that kind of resistance and start an
active battle campaign. We have to disrupt the light and scanning and
ventilation systems, for instance. They'll be forced to keep them in
repair. Perhaps they'll try to guard these strategic points. So much
the better for us--there will be fewer guards to contend with."
"What about me?" called a woman from far in back. "What do I do?"
"You are in for a rough time," Docchi promised her. "Is Jerian here?"
She elbowed her way to his side through the crowd.
"Jerian," said Docchi to the accidentals, "is a normal, pretty
woman--outwardly. She has, however, no trace of a digestive system.
The maximum time she can go without food and fluid injections is ten
hours. That's why she's here."
Again Docchi scanned the group. "I need a cosmetech, someone who has
her equipment with her."
A legless woman propelled herself forward. Docchi conferred with her.
She seemed startled, but she complied. Under her deft fingers Jerian
was transformed--into Nona.
"She will be the first Nona they'll find," explained Docchi, "because
she can get away with the disguise longer. I think--I hope--they'll
call off the search for a few hours while they test her. Eventually
they are sure to find out. In Jerian's case, fingerprints or X-rays
would reveal who she is. But that won't occur to them immediately.
Nona is impossible to question, as you know, and Jerian will act
exactly as Nona would.
"As soon as they discover that Jerian isn't Nona--well, they won't
bother to be polite, if that's the word for it. The guards will like
the idea of finding an attractive girl they can manhandle in the line
of duty, especially if they think that will help them find Nona. It
won't, of course. But it will hold up the search and that's what we
want."
They stood still, no one moving. Women looked at each other in silent
apprehension.
"Let's go," said Jordan grimly.
"Wait," advised Docchi. "I have one volunteer Nona. I need about fifty
more. It doesn't matter if you're physically sound or not--we'll raid
the lab for plastissue. If you think you can be made up to look like
Nona, come forward."
[Illustration]
Slowly, singly and by twos and threes, they came to him. There were
few indeed who wouldn't require liberal use of camouflage.
The rest followed Jordan out.
Mass production of an individual. Not perfect in every instance. Good
enough to pass in most. Docchi watched approvingly, suggesting
occasional touches of makeup.
"She can't speak or hear," he reminded the volunteers. "Remember that
at all times, no matter what they do. Hide in difficult places. After
Jerian is taken and the search called off and then resumed, let
yourselves be found one at a time. Every guard that has to take you
for examination is one less to look for the real Nona. They have to
find her soon or get off the asteroid."
The cosmetechs were busy; none stopped. There was one who looked up.
"Get off?" she asked. "Why?"
"The Sun is getting smaller."
"Smaller!" exclaimed the woman.