Homeward Bound Part 13

"I gather Reffet and Kirel do not agree?"

"They certainly do not." Atvar spoke with fine contempt. "They fail to see the difference between the purple itch, for which a soothing salve is all the treatment needed, and a malignancy that requires the knife."

"You are outspoken," Ttomalss observed.

"By the spirits of Emperors past, Senior Researcher, I feel here what Straha must have felt back on Tosev 3 before he tried to oust me," Atvar exclaimed.

Ttomalss hissed in astonishment. s.h.i.+plord Straha had been so disgusted over the way the conquest fleet was being run that, after his attempt to supplant Atvar failed, he'd defected to the American Big Uglies. He'd later returned to the Race with news from Sam Yeager that the Americans had been the ones to attack the colonization fleet. Nothing less than news like that could have restored him to the fleetlord's good graces, or even to a semblance of them.

Atvar made the affirmative gesture. "By the spirits of Emperors past, it is a truth. During the fighting, Straha saw how genuinely dangerous the Big Uglies were, and wanted to use radical measures against them. I, in my infinite wisdom, decided this was inappropriate-and so we did not completely defeat them. Now I am the one who sees the danger, and no one here on Home or on Tosev 3 appears willing to turn an eye turret in its direction."

"Exalted Fleetlord, you are not the only one who sees it," Ttomalss said. "Looking at the reports coming from Tosev 3, what strikes me is their ever more frightened frightened tone." tone."

"Another truth," Atvar said. "All the more reason for us to eliminate the menace, would you not agree? I have had an audience with the Emperor. Even he realizes we have to find some way to deal with the Big Uglies."

"Some years ago, I think, annihilating the Big Uglies might well have been the appropriate thing to do," Ttomalss replied. Atvar hissed angrily. He liked hearing disagreement no better than he ever had. Ttomalss said, "Listen to me, if you please."

"Go on." Atvar did not sound like a male who was going to listen patiently and give a reasoned judgment on what he heard. He sounded much more as if he intended to tear Ttomalss limb from limb.

All the same, the psychologist continued, "Unless I am altogether mistaken in my reading of the reports from Tosev 3, I think one reason Reffet and Kirel hesitate to apply your strategy is that they fear it will not work, and it will provoke the independent Tosevites."

"What do you mean, it will not work?" Atvar demanded. "If we smash the not-empires, they will stay smashed. The Empire will no longer have to worry about them-and a good thing, too."

"It might well be a good thing, if we could be sure of doing it," Ttomalss said. "By the latest reports from Tosev 3, though, the Big Uglies are now ahead of us technologically in many areas, ahead of us to the point where Reffet and Kirel are close to despair. We are not innovators, not in the same way the Tosevites are. And we have only a small scientific community on Tosev 3 in any case. It is a colonial world. The center of the Empire is still Home. At the moment, unless I am badly mistaken, the Big Uglies could beat back any attack we might try. Whether we could do the same if they attacked us is a different question, and likely one with a different answer."

"Has it come to that so soon?" Atvar said. "I would have believed we had more time."

"I am not certain, but I think it has," Ttomalss said. "I am also not certain the Big Uglies fully realize their superiority. If they were to defeat an attack from the Race . . ."

"They would become sure of something they now only suspect? Is that what you are saying?"

Ttomalss paused till a female wearing blue false hair between her eye turrets got too far away to hear. Then, unhappily, he used the affirmative gesture and said, "Exalted Fleetlord, I am afraid it is. If not, then I am misreading the reports beamed here from Tosev 3."

"I have been reading those same reports," Atvar said. "I did not have that impression. And yet . . ." He paused, then strode out ahead of Ttomalss, his tailstump twitching in agitation. The psychologist hurried to catch up with him. Atvar swung one eye turret back toward Ttomalss. With obvious reluctance, the fleetlord slowed. When Ttomalss came up beside him once more, he asked, "Have you also been reading translations of the reports the American Big Uglies have sent this way for the benefit of their stars.h.i.+p and its crew?"

"I have seen some of those translations," Ttomalss said cautiously. "I do not know how reliable they are."

"Well, that is always a concern," the fleetlord admitted. "We have sent back an enormous amount of data on Tosev 3, including video and audio. But none of the so-called experts here has ever seen a real live Big Ugly before now except possibly Ka.s.squit, the irony being that she speaks only the language of the Race."

"Ka.s.squit is . . . what she is. I often marvel that she has as much stability as she does," Ttomalss said. "Hoping for more would no doubt be excessive. But I am sorry. You were saying?"

"I was saying that, having read the translations, I was struck by how confident the American Big Uglies seem," Atvar said. "They appear to respect the Race's power on Tosev 3-as who not utterly addled would not?-but they do not appear to be in the least afraid of it." His tailstump trembled some more. "This may support your view."

"Are any officials who have never been to Tosev 3 aware of these concerns?" Ttomalss asked. "The ones pertaining to conditions on the planet, I mean, not those involving the American Big Uglies here."

Atvar's mouth fell open in a laugh. He waggled his lower jaw back and forth, which meant the laugh was sardonic. "Officials here who have never been to Tosev 3 are not aware of anything, Senior Researcher," he said. "Anything, do you hear me? Why do you suppose they have you and me and even Ka.s.squit negotiating with the wild Big Uglies? They are not competent."

"At least they know that much," Ttomalss said. As rea.s.surances went, that one fell remarkably flat.

Colonel Glen Johnson floated in the Admiral Peary Admiral Peary's control room, watching Home go round below him. That was an illusion, of course; the stars.h.i.+p revolved around the planet, not the reverse. But his habits and his way of thinking were shaped by a language that had reached maturity hundreds of years before anyone who spoke it knew about or even imagined s.p.a.ceflight.

He shared the control room with Mickey Flynn. "Exciting, isn't it?" Flynn remarked. He yawned to show just how exciting it was.

"Now that you mention it, no." Johnson peered out through the coated gla.s.s. There might have been nothing between him and the surface of Home. The Lizards' world had less in the way of cloud cover than Earth, too, so he could see much more of the surface. Gra.s.slands, mountains, forests, seas, and lots and lots of what looked like desert to a merely human eye rolled past. On the night side of the planet, the Race's cities shone like patches of phosph.o.r.escence. He said, "I used to love the view from up high when I was in a plane or a s.h.i.+p in Earth orbit. h.e.l.l, I still do. But . . ." He yawned, too.

"I never thought I would know how Moses felt," Flynn said.

"Moses?" Johnson contemplated his fellow pilot instead of the ever-changing landscape down below. "I hate to tell you this, but you don't look one G.o.dd.a.m.n bit Jewish."

"No, eh? I'm shocked and aggrieved to hear it. But I wasn't thinking of looks." Flynn pointed down to Tau Ceti 2. "We've brought our people to the Promised Land, but we can't go into it ourselves."

"Oh." Johnson thought that over, then slowly nodded. "Yeah. I've had that same thought myself, as a matter of fact, even though it's been a h.e.l.l of a long time since I went to Sunday school." It was a pretty fair comparison, no matter who made it. He wondered how long he'd last under full gravity. Not long-he was sure of that. And he wouldn't have much fun till the end finally came, either.

Mickey Flynn said, "I wonder if G.o.d reaches this far, or if the spirits of Emperors past have a monopoly here."

"The Lizards are sure their spirits reach to Earth, so G.o.d better be paying attention here just to even things out," Johnson said.

When he was a kid, even when he was a young man, he'd really believed in the things the preacher talked about in Sunday sermons. He wondered where that belief had gone. He didn't quite know. All he knew was, he didn't have it any more. Part of him missed it. The rest? The rest didn't much care. He supposed that, had he cared more, he wouldn't have lost his belief in the first place.

His gaze went from the ever-unrolling surface of Home to the radar screen. As always, the Lizards had a lot of traffic in orbit around their homeworld. The radar also tracked several suborbital shuttlecraft flights. Those looked a lot like missile launches, so he noticed them whenever they went off. As long as the alarm that said something was aimed at the Admiral Peary Admiral Peary didn't go off, though, he didn't get too excited. didn't go off, though, he didn't get too excited.

Actually, by comparison with the orbital traffic around Earth, Home was pretty tidy. The Lizards were neat and well organized. They didn't let satellites that had worn out and gone dead stay in orbit. They cleaned up spent rocket stages, too. And they didn't have any missile-launching satellites cunningly disguised as spent rocket stages, either. Home wasn't nearly so well defended as Earth. The Lizards hadn't seen the need. Why should they have seen it? They were unified and peaceful. No other species had ever paid them a call in its own stars.h.i.+ps. Till now . . .

"In the circus of life, do you know what we are?" Flynn said out of the blue.

"The clowns?" Johnson suggested.

"You would look charming in a big red rubber nose," the other pilot said, examining him as if to decide just how charming he would look. Flynn seemed dissatisfied-perhaps not charming enough. After that once-over, he went on with his own train of thought: "No, we are the freaks of the midway. 'Step right up, ladies and gentlemen, and see the amazing, astonis.h.i.+ng, and altogether unique floating men! They glide! They slide! They sometimes collide! And after one touch- one slight touch-of gravity, they will have died! One thin dime, one tenth part of a dollar, to see these marvels of science perform for you you!' " He pointed straight at Johnson.

"If I had a dime, I'd give it to you," Johnson said. "I remember the carnival barkers back before the war. Sweet Jesus Christ, that's more than ninety years ago now. But you sound just like 'em."

Mickey Flynn looked pained. "'Talkers.' The word is 'talkers,' " he said with what seemed exaggerated patience. "Only the marks call them 'barkers.' "

"How do you know that?" Johnson asked. After so long living in each other's pockets on the Lewis and Clark, Lewis and Clark, he thought he'd heard all the other pilot's stories. Maybe he was wrong. He hoped he was. Good stories were worth their weight in gold. he thought he'd heard all the other pilot's stories. Maybe he was wrong. He hoped he was. Good stories were worth their weight in gold.

"Me?" Flynn said. "Simple enough. Until I was three years old, I was a pickled punk, living in a bottle of formaldehyde on a sideshow shelf. It gave me a unique perspective-and very bad breath."

He spoke with the same straight-faced seriousness he would have used to report the course of a Lizard shuttlecraft. He had no other tone of voice. It left Glen Johnson very little to take hold of. "Anyone ever tell you you were out of your tree?" he asked at last.

"Oh yes. But they're all mad save me and thee-and I have my doubts about thee," Flynn said.

"I've had my doubts about you-thee-a lot longer than the other way round, I'll bet," Johnson said.

"Not likely," the other pilot replied. "When you came aboard the Lewis and Clark, Lewis and Clark, I doubted you would live long enough to doubt me or anything else ever again. I thought Healey would throw you right out the air lock-and keep your s.p.a.cesuit." I doubted you would live long enough to doubt me or anything else ever again. I thought Healey would throw you right out the air lock-and keep your s.p.a.cesuit."

Since Johnson had wondered about the same thing, he couldn't very well argue with Mickey Flynn. He did say, "n.o.body believes I had electrical problems at just the wrong time."

"Healey believed you-or he wasn't quite sure you were lying, anyhow," Flynn said. "If you hadn't done such a good job of faking your troubles, he would would have s.p.a.ced you, and you can take that to the bank." He eyed Johnson once more. It made his expression look odd, since they floated more or less at right angles to each other. "Don't you think you can 'fess up now? It was more than ten light-years and almost seventy years ago." have s.p.a.ced you, and you can take that to the bank." He eyed Johnson once more. It made his expression look odd, since they floated more or less at right angles to each other. "Don't you think you can 'fess up now? It was more than ten light-years and almost seventy years ago."

Johnson might have confessed to Mickey Flynn. Flynn was right; what he'd done in Earth orbit hardly mattered here in orbit around Home. But Brigadier General Walter Stone chose that moment to come into the control room. Johnson was d.a.m.ned if he would admit anything to the dour senior pilot. He had the feeling that Stone wouldn't have minded s.p.a.cing him, either. And so he said, "I told you-I had wiring troubles at the worst possible time, that's all. There is such a thing as coincidence, you know."

Stone had no trouble figuring out what the other two pilots were talking about. With a snort, he said, "There is such a thing as bulls.h.i.+t, too, and you've got it all over your shoes."

"Thank you very much-sir." If Johnson was going to keep up the charade of innocent curiosity, he had to act offended now. "If you will excuse me . . ." He reached for a handhold, found it, and pulled himself from one to another and out of the control room.

Internally, the s.h.i.+p was laid out like a smaller version of the Lewis and Clark. Lewis and Clark. Corridors had plenty of handholds by which people could pull themselves along. Intersecting corridors had convex mirrors that covered all approaches. Johnson used them, too. He'd seen some nasty collisions-Mickey Flynn hadn't been kidding about that-and he didn't want to be a part of one. You could get going at quite a clip. If you didn't happen to notice that somebody else was barreling along, too . . . Corridors had plenty of handholds by which people could pull themselves along. Intersecting corridors had convex mirrors that covered all approaches. Johnson used them, too. He'd seen some nasty collisions-Mickey Flynn hadn't been kidding about that-and he didn't want to be a part of one. You could get going at quite a clip. If you didn't happen to notice that somebody else was barreling along, too . . .

His cabin was a little larger than the cramped cubicle that had gone by the name in the Lewis and Clark. Lewis and Clark. His bunk was nothing more than a foam mattress with straps to keep him from drifting away. In weightlessness, what more did anyone need? A few people had nightmares of falling endlessly, but most did just fine. Johnson was glad he was, for once, part of the majority. His bunk was nothing more than a foam mattress with straps to keep him from drifting away. In weightlessness, what more did anyone need? A few people had nightmares of falling endlessly, but most did just fine. Johnson was glad he was, for once, part of the majority.

He didn't feel like sleeping just now, though. He put a skelkw.a.n.k skelkw.a.n.k disk into a player and started listening to music. disk into a player and started listening to music. Skelkw.a.n.k Skelkw.a.n.k light-a coherent beam of uniform frequency-was something humanity hadn't imagined before the Lizards came. English had borrowed the word from the language of the Race. All sorts of humans had borrowed-stolen- the technology. light-a coherent beam of uniform frequency-was something humanity hadn't imagined before the Lizards came. English had borrowed the word from the language of the Race. All sorts of humans had borrowed-stolen- the technology.

Johnson remembered records. He wondered if, back on Earth, even one phonograph survived. Maybe a few stubborn antiquarians would still have them, and museums. Ordinary people? He didn't think so.

So much of the Admiral Peary Admiral Peary used pilfered technology. Humanity had had radar before the Lizards came. People were beginning to work on atomic energy. But even there, the Race's technology was evolved, perfected. Stealing had let humans evade any number of mistakes they would have made on their own. used pilfered technology. Humanity had had radar before the Lizards came. People were beginning to work on atomic energy. But even there, the Race's technology was evolved, perfected. Stealing had let humans evade any number of mistakes they would have made on their own.

Where would we be if the Race hadn't come? Johnson knew where he would be in this year of our Lord 2031: he would be dead. But where would people be? Would the n.a.z.is still be around, or would the USA and the Russians and England have smashed them? He was pretty sure the Germans would have gone down the drain. They were, after all, taking on the rest of the world without much help. Johnson knew where he would be in this year of our Lord 2031: he would be dead. But where would people be? Would the n.a.z.is still be around, or would the USA and the Russians and England have smashed them? He was pretty sure the Germans would have gone down the drain. They were, after all, taking on the rest of the world without much help.

But even beaten, they were a formidable people. In the real world, they'd pulled themselves together after the Race's invasion and again after the fight they'd stupidly picked with the Lizards over Poland in the 1960s. That had been a disastrous defeat, and had cost them much of their European empire. But they'd been recovering even when Johnson went into cold sleep, and reports from Earth showed they were working hard to reestablish themselves as a power to be reckoned with.

The Lizards worked hard to keep the Reich Reich from violating the terms of the armistice they'd forced upon it. They had kept Germany from returning to s.p.a.ce for a long time. But the from violating the terms of the armistice they'd forced upon it. They had kept Germany from returning to s.p.a.ce for a long time. But the Reich Reich had quietly rearmed to the point where pulling its teeth now would only touch off another war. The Lizards didn't want that. The last one had hurt them even though they won it. The Germans, by acting as if they weren't afraid to take the chance of another sc.r.a.p-and maybe, given n.a.z.i fanaticism, they weren't-had won themselves quite a bit of freedom of action. had quietly rearmed to the point where pulling its teeth now would only touch off another war. The Lizards didn't want that. The last one had hurt them even though they won it. The Germans, by acting as if they weren't afraid to take the chance of another sc.r.a.p-and maybe, given n.a.z.i fanaticism, they weren't-had won themselves quite a bit of freedom of action.

b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, Johnson thought. Johnson thought. But tough b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. But tough b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. For the time being, though, the Germans would trouble the Race only back on Earth. Things were different for the Americans. They were here. Just a few minutes before, Johnson had watched Home through the gla.s.s of the control room. For the time being, though, the Germans would trouble the Race only back on Earth. Things were different for the Americans. They were here. Just a few minutes before, Johnson had watched Home through the gla.s.s of the control room.

And more American s.h.i.+ps would be coming. The pilot was as sure of that as he was of his own name. The USA wasn't a country that did things by halves. What would the Lizards do when almost as many American s.h.i.+ps-and Russian s.h.i.+ps, and maybe j.a.panese s.h.i.+ps, too- as those of the Race flew back and forth between the Sun and Tau Ceti? For that matter, what would humanity do when that came true?

Ttomalss blamed his talk with Fleetlord Atvar for the worried interest with which he approached evidence of the Big Uglies' growing scientific progress in the reports reaching Home from Tosev 3. And the more he looked, the more evidence he found. That didn't surprise him, but didn't leave him happy, either.

Some of the most recent reports alarmed him in a new way. When he'd stayed on Tosev 3, the worry had been that the Big Uglies were catching up with the Race in this, that, or the other field. That wasn't what the scientists in the colonization fleet were saying now. Instead, they were writing things like, The Big Uglies are doing this, that, or the other thing, and we don't know how. The Big Uglies are doing this, that, or the other thing, and we don't know how. More and more often, the Race was falling behind. More and more often, the Race was falling behind.

Everything his own people did was refined and perfected and studied from every possible angle before it went into large-scale use. Their technology hardly ever malfunctioned. It did what it was supposed to do, and did it well. If something didn't do what it was supposed to do, and do it all the time, they didn't use it. They went into the unknown one fingerclaw's width at a time.

The Big Uglies, by contrast, charged into the unknown with great headlong leaps. If something worked at all, they'd try it. If it was liable to fail and kill large numbers of the individuals who used it, they seemed to take that as part of the price of doing business. They scoffed at danger, even obviously preventable danger. When the Race came to Tosev 3, the Big Uglies had been making motor vehicles for a fair number of years. They'd made them, but they hadn't bothered including safety belts. How many lives had that cost them? How many injuries? Whatever the number, the Tosevites hadn't included them.

Their cold sleep followed the same pattern. It worked . . . most of the time. If the Tosevite called the Doctor died on the way to Home, well, that was unfortunate, but the Big Uglies hadn't wanted to wait till the process got better. If they had waited, they wouldn't have launched their stars.h.i.+p in the first place.

Whenever Ttomalss found evidence of Tosevite advances beyond anything the Race could match, he pa.s.sed it on to males and females in the Imperial Office of Scientific Management. And those males and females, as far as he could tell, promptly forgot all about it. Whenever he asked for follow-up, they acted as if they had no idea what he was talking about. They didn't quite laugh at him to his face. He would have bet they laughed at him behind his back.

He had spent a lot of years on Tosev 3. Maybe he'd picked up some small streak of perverse independence from the Big Uglies he'd studied for so long. Whatever the reason, he decided to forget about the males and females in the Imperial Office of Scientific Management. He used the computer network to find the name and number of a physicist who taught at the local university.

Pesskrag didn't answer the phone. Ttomalss left a message on her machine and waited to see if she would call him back. If she didn't, he vowed to call another working scientist and, if necessary, another and another till he found somebody who would listen to him.

To his relief, the physicist did return his call the next day. When he saw her on the monitor, her youth astonished him. "I greet you, Senior Researcher," she said. At least she wore no wig. "Do you really mean to tell me these Big Ugly things have made discoveries we have not? Excuse me, but I find that very hard to believe."

"If you are interested, I would be pleased to send you the data to evaluate for yourself," Ttomalss answered. "Please believe me when I tell you that you will not wring my liver if you persuade me I am worrying over nothing."

"Send the data, by all means," Pesskrag said. "I was amazed that these creatures could fly a stars.h.i.+p, even a slow one. But that, after all, is something they learned from us. I will be even more surprised if they do prove to have learned anything we do not know."

"I will send the data I presently have. More comes in all the time. Decide for yourself," Ttomalss said. "One way or the other, I look forward to your evaluation."

He transmitted the recent reports from Tosev 3. Technically, he probably wasn't supposed to do that. The Imperial Office of Scientific Management had irked him enough that he didn't care so much whether he was supposed to. He wanted answers, not proper bureaucratic procedures. Yes, the Big Uglies have corrupted me, Yes, the Big Uglies have corrupted me, he thought. he thought.

This time, Pesskrag did not call back for several days. Ttomalss wondered if he ought to try to get hold of the physicist again. That, he convinced himself, would show Big Uglystyle impatience. He made himself wait. He told himself he'd waited for years in cold sleep. What could a few days matter now? But when he'd lain in cold sleep, he hadn't known he was waiting. Now he did. It made a difference.

He had just come back to his room from a negotiating session with the wild Tosevites when the telephone hissed for attention. "Senior Researcher Ttomalss. I greet you," he said.

"And I greet you. This is Physics Professor Pesskrag."

Excitement tingled under Ttomalss' scales. One way or the other, he would find out. "I am glad to hear from you," he said, and barely suppressed an emphatic cough. "Your thoughts are . . . ?"

"My thoughts are confused. My thoughts are very nearly addled, as a matter of fact," Pesskrag said. "I had expected you to send me a pile of sand, to be honest with you."

"I am not a physicist myself. I have no sure way of evaluating it," Ttomalss said. "That is why I sent it to you. All I can say is, males and females with some expertise were concerned about it on Tosev 3. Did they have reason to be?"

"Yes." Pesskrag used an emphatic cough. "The Big Uglies are making experiments that never would have occurred to us. Some of these are large and elaborate, and will not be easy to duplicate here. Do you have more data than you provided me, by any chance?"

"I am sorry, but I do not," Ttomalss said.

"Too bad," the physicist told him. "Most of what you have given me is descriptive only, and not mathematical: it appears to be taken from the public press, not from professional journals. Even so, I would dearly love to see the results from some of these trials."

"Is that a truth?" the psychologist asked.

"That is is a truth." Pesskrag used another emphatic cough. a truth." Pesskrag used another emphatic cough.

"In that case, maybe you should see if you can duplicate these experiments here," Ttomalss said. "Maybe you should pa.s.s this information on to other physicists you know. If you do not have the facilities to duplicate what the Big Uglies are doing, maybe a colleague will."

"Do I have your permission to do that?"

"Mine? You certainly do." Ttomalss did not tell the physicist his might not be the only permission required. He did say, "If they decide to attempt this research, I would appreciate it if they got word of their results back to me."

"Yes, I can see how you might. Ah . . ." Pesskrag hesitated. "You do realize these experiments will not be attempted tomorrow, or even within the next quarter of a year? Colleagues will have to obtain materials and equipment, to say nothing of funding and permissions. These wings will spread slowly."

"I see." Ttomalss did, too-all too well. "Please bear in mind, though, and please have your fellow physicists also bear in mind, that these are liable to be the most important experiments they ever try. Please also bear in mind that the Big Uglies tried them years ago. The news is just now reaching us, because of light speed and because of whatever delay there was between the experiments themselves and when the Race learned of them. What you will be doing has been done on Tosev 3. Do we want to fall behind the Big Uglies? Do we dare fall behind them?"

"Until I looked at this, I would have said falling behind those preposterous creatures was impossible," Pesskrag said. "Now I must admit this may have been an error on my part. Who would have believed that?" Amused and amazed, the physicist broke the connection.

Ttomalss was neither amused nor amazed. He knew the Big Uglies too well. He was alarmed. The natives of Tosev 3 had been bad enough when they knew less than the Race. They'd used everything they did know, and they'd had an overabundant supply of trickery, not least because, being disunited, they'd spent the last centuries of their history cheating one another whenever they saw the chance. They'd pulled even a while ago. Their current presence on Home proved that. If they ever got ahead . . .

If they ever get ahead, how will we catch up? Ttomalss wondered. The Big Uglies had started far behind, but they ran faster. They'd caught up. Could the Race hope to pick up its pace if the Tosevites ever got ahead? That was part of what Ttomalss was trying to find out. Ttomalss wondered. The Big Uglies had started far behind, but they ran faster. They'd caught up. Could the Race hope to pick up its pace if the Tosevites ever got ahead? That was part of what Ttomalss was trying to find out.

What he did find out failed to encourage him. A few days after he sent the data to Pesskrag, he got an angry telephone call from a male called Kssott. Kssott worked in the Imperial Office of Scientific Management. "You have been distributing information that should have stayed confidential," he said in accusing tones.

"Why should it stay confidential?" Ttomalss demanded. "Do you think that if you bury it in the sand it will never hatch? I can tell you that you are wrong. Among the Big Uglies, it has hatched already."

"That is the information we most need to grasp with our finger-claws and hold tight," Kssott said. is the information we most need to grasp with our finger-claws and hold tight," Kssott said.

"Why? It is a truth whether you admit it or not," Ttomalss said angrily. "And if you do admit it, maybe you-we-can do something about it. If not, the Tosevites will keep on going forward, while we stay in the same place. Is that what you want?"

"We do not want to introduce unexamined changes into our own society," Kssott said. "That could be dangerous."