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'But I haven't got a payroll-I never have had one!' Cloud protested.
'Don't quibble, please. It is also the law that any master or acting master of any s.h.i.+p of this tonnage is authorized to employ for his owner-in this case the Galactic Patrol-whatever personnel is necessary, whenever necessary, at his discretion. With or without pay, however, I stay on until replaced.' 'But I don't need need a doctor-or a nurse, either!' 'Personally, now, no,' she conceded, equably enough. 'I checked into that. As the chief of your great laboratory quoted to you, "This too, shall pa.s.s." It is pa.s.sing. But you a doctor-or a nurse, either!' 'Personally, now, no,' she conceded, equably enough. 'I checked into that. As the chief of your great laboratory quoted to you, "This too, shall pa.s.s." It is pa.s.sing. But you must must have a crew; and any member of it, or you yourself, may require medical or surgical attention at any time. The only question, then, is whether or not you wish to replace me. Would you like to examine my credentials?' have a crew; and any member of it, or you yourself, may require medical or surgical attention at any time. The only question, then, is whether or not you wish to replace me. Would you like to examine my credentials?'
'No. Having been en rapport with your mind, it is not necessary. But are you, after your position aboard the s.h.i.+p which was lost, interested in such a small job as this?' 'I would like it very much, I'm sure.'
'Very well. If any of them stay, you can-at the same pay you were getting.'
'Now, Thlaskin, the Vegian. No, hold it! We've got to have something better than s.p.a.ceal, and a lot of Vegians go in for languages in a big way. She may know English or Spanish, since Vegia is one of Tellus' next-door neighbors. I'll try her myself.'
Then, to the girl, 'Do you speak English, miss?' 'No, eggzept in glimzzez only,' came the startling reply. 'Two Galactic Zdandard yearzz be pazz-come? Go?-'ere I mazzter zhe, zo perverze mood and tenze. Zhe izz zo difficult and abzdruze.'
72.Switching to Galactic Spanish, which language was threatening to become the common tongue of Galactic Civilization, she went on: 'But I heard you say "Zbanidge." I know Galactic Spanish very well. I speak it well, too, except for the sounds of "ezz" and "zeta," which all we Vegians must make too hard-z-z-z, zo. One hears that nearly all educated Tellurians have the Spanish, and you are educated, of a certainty. You speak it, no?'
'Practically as well as I do English.' Cloud made relieved reply. 'You have very little accent, and that little is charming. My name is Neal Cloud. May I ask yours?'
'Neelcloud? I greet you. Mine is Vezzptkn ... but no, you couldn't p.r.o.nounce it. "Vezzta," it would have to be in your tongue.'
'QX. We have a name very close to that-Vesta.'
'That's exactly what I said-Vezz-ta.'
'Oh-excuse me, please. You were talking to this lady- Tomingan, she said? What language were you using?'
'Fourth-continent Tomingan, Middle Plateau dialect. Hers. She was an engineer in a big power plant on Manarka, is how she came to learn their sign language. Tomingans don't go in for linguistics much.'
'And you very evidently do. How many languages do you know, young lady?'
'Only fifty so far-plus their dialects, of course. I'm only halfway to my Master of Languages degree. Fifty more to learn yet, including your cursed Englidge. Englidge. P-f-z-t-k.' Vesta wrinkled her nose, bared her teeth, and emitted a noise very similar to that made by an alley cat upon meeting a strange dog. 'I don't know whether s.p.a.ceal will count for credit or not, but I'm going to learn it anyway.' P-f-z-t-k.' Vesta wrinkled her nose, bared her teeth, and emitted a noise very similar to that made by an alley cat upon meeting a strange dog. 'I don't know whether s.p.a.ceal will count for credit or not, but I'm going to learn it anyway.'
'Nice going, Vesta. Now, why did you you appoint yourself a member of this party?' appoint yourself a member of this party?'
'I wanted to go, and since I can't pay fare ...'
'You wouldn't have had to!' Cloud interrupted. 'If you lost your money aboard that s.h.i.+p, the Patrol would take you anywhere ...'
'Oh, I didn't mean that? that? She dipped into her belt-bag and held out for the man's inspection a book of Travelers' Cheques good for fifty thousand G-P credits! 'I wanted to continue with you, and I knew this wasn't a pa.s.senger s.h.i.+p. I can be useful- She dipped into her belt-bag and held out for the man's inspection a book of Travelers' Cheques good for fifty thousand G-P credits! 'I wanted to continue with you, and I knew this wasn't a pa.s.senger s.h.i.+p. I can be useful- 73.who do you think lined up that translation relay?-and besides, I can work. I can cook-keep house-and I can learn any other job fast. You believe me?'
Cloud looked at her. She was as tall as he was, and heavier; stronger and faster. 'Yes, you can work, if you want to, and I think you would. But you haven't said why you want to go along.'
'Mostly because it's the best chance I'll ever have to learn English. I went to Tellus once before to learn it-but there are too many Vegians there. Young Vegians, like me, like to play too much. You know?'
'I've heard so. But teachers, courses ...?'
'I need neither teachers nor courses. What I need is what you have in your library-solid English.'
'QX. I'll reserve judgment on you, too. Now let's hear what the Tomingan has to say What's her name'}' her name'}'
'You'd be surprised!' Vesta giggled in glee. 'Literally translated, it's "Little flower of spring, dwelling bashfully by the brook's damply sweet brink." And that's an exact exact transliteration, so help me-believe it or not!' transliteration, so help me-believe it or not!'
'I'll take your word for it. What shall we call her?'
'Urn ... m ... "Tommie" would be as good as anything, I guess.'
'QX. Tommie of Tominga. Ask her why she thinks she has to be a member of our crew.'
'Who else do you have who can repair one of your big atomic engines if it lets go?' came the answering question, in Vesta's flawlessly idiomatic Galactic Spanish.
Cloud was amazed at Tommie's changed appearance. She was powdered, perfumed, and painted: and made up to the gills. Her heavy blonde hair was elaborately waved. If it wasn't for her diesel-truck build, Cloud thought-and for the long black Venerian cigar she was smoking with such evident relish -she'd be a knockout on anybody's tri-di screen!
'I can.' The profoundly deep, but pleasantly and musically resonant voice went on; the fluent translation continued. 'What I don't know about atomic engines hasn't been found out yet. I don't know much about Bergenholms and a couple of other things pertaining solely to flight, and I don't know anything anything about communicators or detectors, which aren't engineers' business. I've laid in a complete supply of atomic service manuals about communicators or detectors, which aren't engineers' business. I've laid in a complete supply of atomic service manuals 74.for cla.s.s S-C s.h.i.+ps, and I tell you this-if anything with a motor or an engine in it aboard this vessel ever has run, I can take it apart and put it back together so it'll run again. And by the way, you didn't have half enough spare parts aboard, but you have now. Besides, you might need somebody to really swing that axe of yours, some day.'
Cloud studied the Tomingan narrowly. She wasn't wasn't bragging, he decided finally. She was simply voicing what to her were simple truths. bragging, he decided finally. She was simply voicing what to her were simple truths.
'Your arguments have weight. Why do you want the job?'
'Several reasons. I've never done anything like this before, and it'll be fun. Main reason, though, is that I think I'll be able to talk you into doing a job on Tominga that has needed doing for a long time. I was a pa.s.senger, not an officer, on my way to talk to a party about ways of getting it done. You changed my mind. You and I, with some others who'll be glad to help, will be able to do it better.'
Tommie volunteered no more information, and Cloud asked no more questions. Explanation would probably take more time than could be spared.
'Now you, Thlaskin,' the Blaster said in s.p.a.ceal. 'What have you got to say for yourself?'
'You've got me on a h.e.l.l of a spot, boss,' the pilot admitted, ruefully. 'You've got got to have a pilot, no question about that. You already know I'm one. I know automatics, and communicators, and detectors-the works. Ordinarily I'd say you'd to have a pilot, no question about that. You already know I'm one. I know automatics, and communicators, and detectors-the works. Ordinarily I'd say you'd have have to have to have me. me. But this ain't a regular case. I wasn't a pilot on the heap that got knocked out of the ether, but a pa.s.senger. Malu-leme-she's my ... say, ain't there no word for ...' But this ain't a regular case. I wasn't a pilot on the heap that got knocked out of the ether, but a pa.s.senger. Malu-leme-she's my ... say, ain't there no word for ...'
He broke off and spoke rapidly to his wife, who relayed it to Vesta.
'They're newlyweds,' the Vegian translated. 'He was off duty and they were on their honeymoon ...'
Vesta's wonderfully expressive face softened, saddened. She appeared about to cry. 'I wish I I were old enough to be a newly-wed,' she said, plaintively. were old enough to be a newly-wed,' she said, plaintively.
'Huh? Aren't you?' the Blaster demanded. 'You look old enough to me.'
'Oh, I'm as big as I ever will be, and I won't change outside. It's inside. About half a year yet. But she's saying- 'We know that pilots on duty, in regular service, can't have 75.their wives aboard. But this isn't a regular run, I know, so couldn't you-just this once-keep Thlaskin on as pilot and let me come too? Please, Please, Mr. Neelcloud-she didn't know your name, but asked me to put it in-I can work my way. I'll do any of the jobs n.o.body else wants to do-I'll do Mr. Neelcloud-she didn't know your name, but asked me to put it in-I can work my way. I'll do any of the jobs n.o.body else wants to do-I'll do anything, anything, Mr. Neelcloud!' Mr. Neelcloud!'
The pink girl jumped up and took Cloud's left hand in both her own. Simultaneously Vesta took his right hand in her left, brought it up to her face, and laid the the incredibly downy softness of her cheek against the five-hour bristles of his; sounding the while a soft, low-pitched but unmistakable purr! purr!
'Just this once wouldn't do any harm, would it, Captain Neelcloud?' Vesta purred. 'You zmell zo zo wonderful, and she zmells nice, too. wonderful, and she zmells nice, too. Pleeze Pleeze keep her on!' keep her on!'
'QX. You win!' The Blaster pulled himself loose from the two too-demonstrative females and addressed the group at large. 'I think I ought to have my head examined, but I'm signing all of you on as crew. But n.o.body else. n.o.body else. I'll get the book.' I'll get the book.'
He got it. He signed them on. Chief Pilot Thlaskin. Chief Engineer Tommie. Linguist Vesta. Doctor ... what? He tried to call her attention by thinking at her, but couldn't. Then, through Vesta: Manarkans didn't have names, but were known by their personality patterns. Didn't they sign something to doc.u.ments? No, they used finger-prints only, without signatures.
'But we've got to have something something we can put in the book!' Cloud protested. 'Tell her to pick one.' we can put in the book!' Cloud protested. 'Tell her to pick one.'
'No preference,' Vesta reported. 'I'm to do it. I knew a lovely Tellurian named "Nadinevandereckelberg" once. Let's call her that?'
'Nadine van der Eckelberg? Better not. Not common enough -there might be repercussions. We can use part of it, though. "Nadine", bracketed with her prints ..'. there. Now how about Maluleme?' He turned to the 'Cla.s.sification' listing and frowned. 'What to cla.s.s her her as I'll never know. She's got just about as much business aboard this bucket as I would have in a sultan's harem.' as I'll never know. She's got just about as much business aboard this bucket as I would have in a sultan's harem.'
'You might find quite a lot-and that that I'd like to see!' Vesta snickered. 'But look under 'Mizzelaneouz", there." I'd like to see!' Vesta snickered. 'But look under 'Mizzelaneouz", there."
Her stiff, sharp fingernail ran down the column almost to the end. '"Zupercargo"? We have no cargo. "Zupernumerary"?
76.That's it! See? I read: "Zupernumerary-Perzonnel beyond the nezezzary or uzhual; ezpedjially thoze employed not for regular zervize, but only to fill the plazez of otherz in caze of need." Perfect!'
'Whose place could she she fill?' fill?'
'The cook's-if the automatics break down,' Vesta explained, gleefully. 'She says she can really cook-so even if they didn't break down she can tape lots of nice things to eat that aren't in your kitchen banks.'
'Could be. I can get away with that. "Supernumerary (cook 1/c) Maluleme" and her prints ... there. Now we're organized -let's flit. Ready, Thlaskin?'
*Ready, sir,' and the good s.h.i.+p Vortex Blaster I Vortex Blaster I took off. took off.
'Now, Vesta, I s'pose you've all picked out your cabins and got located?'
'Yes, sir,'
'QX. Tell 'em all, except Tommie, to go and do whatever they think they ought to be doing. Tell Tommie to sit down at the chart-table. We'll join her. I want to find out what she's got on her mind.'
Pulling a chart and rolling it out flat on the table, Cloud went on: 'We're in this unexplored region, here, about thirty two dash twenty five.* We're headed for Nixson II, about sixty one dash forty six."
'Nixson? Why, that's only three thousand pa.r.s.ecs-a day and a half, say-from Tominga, where I want you to go!' Tommie exclaimed.
'Check. That's why I'm going to listen to what you have to say. We can pick Manarka up-sixty five dash thirty five, here; they've got two really bad ones-on the way back. It's a long flit to Chickladoria-'way over there, one seventy seven dash thirty four-but I've got to go there pretty quick, anyway. It's way up on the A list. So, Tommie, start talking.'
The run to Nixson II was uneventful, and Cloud rid that planet of its loose atomic vortices in a few hours. The cruiser then headed directly for Tominga, one man short, for Tommie * Rough locations are expressed in degrees of galactic longitude and hundredths of the distance from Centralia to the Arbitrary Rim of the galaxy. This convention ignores the galaxy's thickness and is used only in first approximations. E.E.S.
77.was not aboard.
'Now remember, no matter what happens, you don't know any one of us,' had been the Blaster's parting instructions to her. 'After we've checked in at the hotel we'll meet in the lobby. Be sure you're sitting-or standing-some place where Vesta can pa.s.s a couple of words with you without anybody catching on. Check?'
'Check.'
78.
8: Vesta the Vegian
Immediately after supper Cloud called Vesta and Nadine into his cabin.
'You first, Nadine.' He caught her eyes and stopped talking, but went on thinking. He was amazed at how easy it had been to learn the knack of telepathy with both Luda and the Manarkan. 'How did you make out with Tommie? Can't she read you at all?'
. 'Not at all. I can read her easily enough, but she can neither send nor receive.'
'How about Vesta, then? Any more progress?'
'No. Just like you. She learned very quickly to receive, but that is all. She cannot tune her mind; I have to do it all.' It also amazed the Blaster that, after learning one half of telepathy so easily, he had been unable even to get a start on the other half. 'We might try it again, though, all three of us together?'
They tried, but it was no use. Think as they would, of even the simplest things-squares, crosses, triangles, and circles- staring eye to eye and even holding hands, neither the Blaster nor the Vegian could touch the other's mind. Nor could the Manarkan tell them or show them what to do.
'Well, that's out, then.' Cloud frowned in concentration, the fingers of his left hand drumming almost soundlessly on the table's plastic top. 'Nadine, you can't send simultaneously to both Vesta and me, because we can't tune ourselves into resonance with you, as a real telepath could. However, could you read me and send my thoughts to Vesta, and do it fast enough to keep up? As fast as I talk, say?'
'Oh, easily. I don't have to tune sharply to receive-unless there's a lot of interference, of course-and even then, Vesta can read my shorthand. She learned it before we met you.'
'Hm ... m. Interesting. Let's try it out. I'll think at you, you put it down in shorthand. You, Vesta, tape it in Spanish. Get your notebook and recorder .. ready? Let's go!'
There ensued a strange spectacle. Cloud, leaning back in his seat with his eyes closed, mumbled to himself in English, to slow his thoughts dow nto approximately two hundred words per minute. Nadine, paying no visible attention to the man, wrote 79.unhurried, smoothly-flowing-most of the time-symbols. Vesta, throat-mike in place and yellow-eyed gaze nailed to the pencil's point, kept pace effortlessly-most of the time.
'That's all. Play it back, Vesta. If you girls got half of that, you're good.' good.'
The speaker came to life, giving voice to a completely detailed and extremely technical report on the extinction of an imaginary atomic vortex, and as the transcription proceeded Cloud's amazement deepened. It was evident, of course, that neither of the two translators knew anything at all about many of the scientific technicalities involved. Nevertheless the Manarkan had put down-and Vesta had recorded in good, idiomatic Galactic Spanish-an intelligent layman's idea of what it was that had been left out. That impromptu, completely unrehea.r.s.ed report would have been fully informative to any expert of the Vortex Control Laboratory!
'Girls, you are are good- good-very good.' Cloud paid deserved tribute to ability. 'First chance we get, I'll split a bottle of fayalin with you. Now we'd better hit the sack. We land early in the morning, and since we're going to stay here a while we'll have to go through quarantine and customs. So pack your bags and have 'em ready for inspection.' good.' Cloud paid deserved tribute to ability. 'First chance we get, I'll split a bottle of fayalin with you. Now we'd better hit the sack. We land early in the morning, and since we're going to stay here a while we'll have to go through quarantine and customs. So pack your bags and have 'em ready for inspection.'
They landed at the s.p.a.ceport of Tommie's home town, which Cloud, after hearing Vesta's literal translation of its native name, had entered in his log as 'Mingia'. They pa.s.sed their physicals and healths easily enough-the requirements for leaving a planet of warm-blooded oxygen-breathers are so severe and so comprehensive that the matter of landing on a similar one is always a matter of simple routine.
'Manarkan doctors we know of old; you are welcome indeed. We see very few Tellurians or Vegians, but the standards of those worlds are. very high and we are glad to welcome you. But Chickladoria? I never heard of it-we've had no one from that planet since I took charge of this port of entry ...'
The Tomingan official punched b.u.t.tons, gabbled briefly, and listened.
'Oh, yes. Excellent! The health, sanitation, and exit requirements of Chickladoria are approved by the Galactic Medical Society. We welcome you. You all may pa.s.s.'
They left the buildint? and boarded a copter for their hotel.
'... and part of its name is "Forget-me-not"! Isn't that a dilly 80.of a name for a hotel?' Vesta, who had been telepathing busily with Nadine, was giggling sunnily.
Suddenly, however, she stopped laughing and, eyes slitted, leaped for the door. Too late: the craft was already in the air.
'Do you know what that ... that clunker clunker back there back there really really thought of us?' she flared. 'That we're weak, skinny, insipid, underdeveloped little thought of us?' she flared. 'That we're weak, skinny, insipid, underdeveloped little runts! runts! By Zevz and Tlazz and Jadkptn, I'll show him-I'll take a tail-wrap around his neck and ...' By Zevz and Tlazz and Jadkptn, I'll show him-I'll take a tail-wrap around his neck and ...'
'Pipe down, Vesta-listen!' Cloud broke in sharply. 'You're smart enough to know better than to explode that way. For instance, you're stronger than I am, and faster-admitted. So what? I'm still your boss. And Tommie isn't, even though, as you ought to know by this time, she could pull your tail out by the roots and beat you to death with the b.u.t.t end of it in thirty seconds flat.'
'Huh?' Vesta's towering rage subsided miraculously into surprised curiosity. 'But you're admitting admitting it!' she marvelled. 'Even that / am stronger and faster than it!' she marvelled. 'Even that / am stronger and faster than you you are!' are!'
'Certainly. Why not? Servos are faster still, and ordinary derricks are stronger. It's brains brains that count. I'd much rather have your linguistic ability than the speed and strength of a Valerian.' that count. I'd much rather have your linguistic ability than the speed and strength of a Valerian.'
'So would I, really,' Vesta purred. 'You're the nicest nicest man!' man!'
'So watch yourself, young lady,' Cloud went on evenly, 'and behave yourself. If you don't, important as you are to this project, I'll send you back to the s.h.i.+p in irons. That's a promise.'
'P-f-z-t-k!' Vesta fairly spat the expletive. Her first thought was sheer defiance, but under the Blaster's level stare she changed her mind visibly. 'I'll behave myself Captain Neel-cloud.'
'Thanks, Vesta. You'll be worth a whole platoon of Tomin-gans if you do.'
The copter landed on the flat roof of the hotel. The guests were registered and shown to their rooms. The Forget-Me-Not's air was hot and humid, and the visitors wore the only clothing to be seen. Nevertheless, Cloud was too squeamish to go all the way, so he still wore shorts and sandals, as well as the side-arm of his rank, when he went back up to the lobby to meet his crew.
Vesta, tail-tip waving gracefully a foot and a half above her head, was wearing only her sandals. Thlaskin wore shorts and s.p.a.ce-boots. Maluleme had reduced her conventional forty one 81.square inches of covering to a daring twenty five-two narrow ribbons and a couple of jewels. Nadine, alone of them all, had made no concession to that stickily sweltering climate. She'd be disgraced for life, Cloud supposed, if she cut down by even one the hundreds of feet of white glamorette in which she was swathed. But Manarkans didn't sweat like Tellurians, he guessed-if they did, she'd either peel or smother before this job was over!