"We know that much about it ourselves," Rodnar broke in.

"So when you get it published, we'll buy a set. But about that yellow-skinned scholar. He's studying. He's also, we know d.a.m.n well, reporting to Laynch everything he learns. So, just to be on the safe side, I think we'd better."

"Just a minute, Rod!" Starrlah snapped.

"I don't think so. Killing him would probably."

"Huh? Are you getting squeamish."

"No, I'm not. Listen. Killing that noisome Yanark was all right-and necessary. Spies always get killed if they get caught, that's an occupational hazard. Killing him didn't cause a ripple and won't. Laynch will know we did it, of course, but it won't pull any triggers-he must have been expecting it all along. But this Skeejan is an entirely different pan of sknarr. He's a scholar. Of course he's learning stuff for Laynch, but...

"He's a Garshan," Rodnar said, flatly.

"That makes eaglemeat of him. That alone."

"Of course, but I said listen?" she snapped.

"If he gets it now-no matter how-Laynch will know we did it. So he'll know we aren't sticking to our regular business, but branching out all over the place. From there it won't be much of a jumphardly a step, in fact-to the conclusion that we're coming out into his own star-cl.u.s.ter after him."

"Um-m-m-m... Could be... and that wouldn't be good."

"And besides, what could he possibly find out from those Big Domes that would do us any... Oh! Excuse that crack, Knu, please. I didn't mean... Knuaire laughed.

"Think nothing of it, Starr. I'll blame it on Thaskarr-that's one of his catchwords that really caught on. Starr's thought is sound, Rod, but both of you seem to be overlooking the point that any possible damage has already been done. Most of those Other-s.p.a.ce psiontists-and many of ours too, for that matter-are working screens-down most of the time. So Skeejan has had plenty of time to report anything Laynch is interested in."

"Probably so, at that. For a check, what's your thought on what that would be."

"As a long-term project, I'd say he wants all the data he can get on invading Other s.p.a.ce and conquering it. Short term, what he wants most is their rhenium technology-they do incredible things with it, especially in missiles-and of course their rhenium. None of their psiontists-with the possible exception of Adams, who can't be read-know anything about it, from a practical standpoint. Not a kinto's worth."

"That's about the way I see it... so we hadn't better kill Skeejan, at that. Maybe somebody else will expose him or we can take care of him later Anything else, Knu."

"Only one item of any importance. Inter-spatial transit. Did you know that it takes a perfectly-matched male-and-female pair to do it? That there's only one pair alive, as far as anyone knows, who can do it."

"We certainly didn't... But wait-I remember-Cecily and Percival Train. What incredible power! They were tossing that ship around-dozens of times as big as anything Starr and I can move-like it was a bit of fluff. But I supposed the others could, too. There were no side bands that those two were the only ones who could do the crossover from one s.p.a.ce to the other."

"There wouldn't be," Starrlah said.

"They're above all that-they aren't the braggy type."

"You can take it as a fact," Knuaire said.

"Their psiontists know it and make no secret of it. So the only way Laynch can get across to Other s.p.a.ce is for that pair to operate his ferry for him. You've met them, I haven't. Would they cooperate, do you think."

"If I'm any judge, they wouldn't."

"He'll take them and try to force them to do it, then."

"That I'll make it a point to watch," Starriah said.

"They'll chew him to bits."

"Are they that good?" Knuaire demanded.

"They're that good," Rodnar said, slowly.

"Those eight, at least. Any one of them could kill two of me...

"But they wouldn't," Starrlah put in practically.

"They're too... well, kind of squeamish. They wouldn't kill anybody unless they absolutely had to, not even that noisome Laynch."

"That's my thought, too," Rodnar agreed.

"But you can give a man plenty of punishment without killing him, and I think they'd do just that. However, except for those eight, there was n.o.body aboard that ship any better than we are-if as good." Knuaire thought for a second, then said, "Adams is the only one in the Conference who would grade above medium Six, no one else there even compares with you two. So their s.p.a.ce is probably safe from Laynch-unless he can take that couple by surprise. It might be a good idea to warn them... What do you think."

"By all means," Rodnar agreed.

"I'll take care of it, probably through Adams. Or-I'll be seeing Deston..."

"Tell him I'd like to talk with them before they leave."

"I'll do that. They're weirdies, no question, but you have to admire 'em in some ways. One sure thing, their screens don't leak anything they want to keep inside." The conversation went on for another hour or so, then Knuaire 'ported back to the Conference. Moments later Rodnar and Starrlah 'ported into his speedster and they took off. They knew where the star-cl.u.s.ter was-there was only one on any line just to the right of the Eagle-Claw Nebula-so they went there in one long subs.p.a.ce jump. Then they started to look. Compared to a galaxy, or even to a spiral arm, a cl.u.s.ter is small. Nevertheless, it fills a lot of s.p.a.ce and contains a lot of planets. Therefore it was a week before the psiontists' far-flung, ultra sensitive detector web encountered a pattern of human thought. They located the planet and flashed up to it. It was Garshan. Then the fine work began. In a way it was a repet.i.tion of their Orkstmen experience. Delicately, insidiously, they probed and studied, extremely careful not to touch, however fleetingly, any mind able to feel that touch. They examined minds and cards and filed doc.u.ments. After hours, when offices were closed, they studied mile after mile of tape. They avoided observatories and other places where star-charts could have been found, they did not want to find any touchy Garshan psiontists-yet. Such sketchy examinations as these, of only one part of one planet, would not except by pure luck reveal all the planets in the Garshan system. Each one, however, named and placed one or two or a few others, and these in turn supplied still others. They found the planet Newgarsh, the Empire's capital world, but they did not stop there then. They kept on going until the circle was complete, until they knew surely that there were fifteen planets, and only fifteen planets, in the Garshan Empire. Then they went back to Newgarsh. Now the really dangerous work started. Far above electronic detector range, they set their speedster in a carefully computed orbit around Newgarsh, fixed directly above the capital city, Garsh; and Rodnar and Starrlah lay motionless on their beds, with every iota of their minds concentrated on their task. They had to get the answers to three questions. Where was the Garshan fleet? What was its maximum strength? What was Laynch's plan? They started at Status Fifteen and worked up, using the utmost care, with a delicacy of touch perfected during their session on old Garsh. They got just as Yanark had done, but much faster-bits and pieces and fragments of information. They probed and probed and probed, and finally they got fairly complete answers to the first and second questions, and got a few hints as to the third. But no one knew Laynch's plan except himself. The only one else who knew much of anything about it was Supreme Admiral Songondo Grollo. Unlike Supreme Admiral Axolgan of the Justiciate, Grollo was a supersensitive psiontist, and as such he would react to the slightest touch of thought. He did. With the first hint of reaction Rodnar and Starrlah appeared for an instant beside the admiral, but there was no eye present to see. Nor psionic alarm, for he had no time to send out a thought. They yanked him out into the little speedster. That speedster vanished, and, in subs.p.a.ce, went so fast and so far that there was no possibility of anyone tracing any element of its flight. Well beyond the six-sigma limit of probability of detection or interference, Rodnar and Starrlah went to work on the mind of Admiral Grollo. They put on the pressure and held it, they bored and they probed and they dug and they stabbed. It is questionable whether any human mind could have withstood that brutally savage two-p.r.o.nged attack, certainly Grollo's mind could not do so. And, unfortunately for the Garshan cause, the admiral did not commit suicide at first contact.

He was expendable just as expendable as Yanark or as any other Garshan except Emperor Laynch-and he knew it. That is, he knew it in an empirical, didactic sort of way, but, deep down, he did not really believe it. He was too valuable a man to spare. Also, suicide was the coward's way, the easy way out. He was no coward, but a fighter, a strong and able fighter, the culmination of a thousand-years-long line of the strongest and ablest fighters of the Garshan race. Wherefore he set his blocks and fought back with all the fierce power and all the stubborn pride of his long heritage. He leaked, and every sc.r.a.p of information so released was seized and stored away. First, the inquisitors completed their knowledge of Grollo's own department, the Garshan Navy, its full roster of ships, where they had been built, where the bases were and how they were concealed, the present location of the fleet, what sealed orders were now in the admiral's hands, and so on-no details of which are of any importance here. Then as to Laynch's plans, and here the first information obtained-it had to do with what the Emperor was going to do to Rodnar and Starrlah-was definite, detailed, and entirely new. Grollo was apparently the only real confidant Laynch had, except possibly for his complement, and the Emperor's thoughts about those two white psiontists, even at second hand, frizzled to a crisp the very ether through which they pa.s.sed. Those thoughts, while interesting, were not really important, so the pair forced the admiral to think of something else, of what Laynch intended to do about the Justiciate and about Other s.p.a.ce. This field was not so productive, as even ultra stubborn Grollo began to realize that he was giving away top-secret stuff, information that was never, under any conditions whatever, to be revealed. Wherefore Garsh's Supreme Admiral released his hard-held blocks and died instantly. He had, however, resisted a little too long, had leaked a little too much. The two, after 'porting the corpse out into a sunward course in s.p.a.ce, stared at each other for seconds without sending a thought or saying a word. Before either spoke, Rodnar flashed a thought to Knuaire at the Interspatial Conference.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything too important." On Knu's instant rea.s.surance he con- tinued, "Can you join us-now?" He gave a swift summary of what had happened and what they had learned, then followed with the coordinates. That quickly they were a trio.

"Oh, I wish he'd fought a second longer!" Starrlah voiced her frustration.

"But he can't-he can't possibly do anything like... even if he could get across to Other s.p.a.ce... they can't have such missiles as that-a hundred and seventyfive thousand gravities? Why, that's-it's preposterous."

"Nevertheless it's true," Knuaire said, quietly.

"It's common knowledge in the Conference. That rhenium alloy, you know." Rodnar did some fast mental arithmetic, then whistled through his teeth.

"I see. For a rough estimate-at a range of five hundred miles or so-one second's travel-they'd be logging about a thousand miles per second-and with Chaytor intake-they couldn't be stopped, Knu, by psionics or anything else."

"I know that. So does Laynch. That's why he has got to have their rhenium. Or find a lot of it here, which he probably won't."

"He'd rather have theirs, anyway," Rodnar said.

"Oh, I wish we could have found out how he was going about it!" Starrlah exclaimed.

"He would have to force those Trains to do it for him and how could he? Can you extrapolate that far; Knu, with the data we got."

"With a pretty high decrement of probability, yes." The master theoretician thought for minutes, then went on, "There are several methods possible for him to use... the most probable of which, I believe, would be to concentrate everything they have of both physical and psionic power."

"But that wouldn't get them anywhere," Rodnar objected.

"The Trains would kill themselves first."

"Would they? I considered that point in the light of everything I have learned about their culture and I am not at all sure that they would. We would, of course. So would any Garshan of status. However, the Galaxian system of thought their entire culture-is vastly different from ours. They may not be weaker... that is, not exactly... Softer? Gen- tler? There is no exact term of comparison. But you exchanged thoughts face to face with their strongest, what is your thought."

"I see what you mean," Rodnar said, slowly.

"The Trains could very well submit... temporarily, say, with the thought in mind to take corrective action, once back in their own s.p.a.ce... knowing nothing of their s.p.a.ce or their resources I have no idea of what such action would be... but yes, the Trains might do just that rather than leave all their fellows, men, women, and children, stranded forever in a foreign s.p.a.ce."

"That's a thing, too," Starrlah put in.

"Why under all the shining stars have they got their children along on such an exploration into the unknown as their expedition is." Both men shook their heads and the girl went on, "That baffles me completely. It's the most cretinous idea I ever heard of-I'm going to ask that Bobby, next time I see her-but in the meantime we'd better get hold of Babe, don't you think, and warn him." Rodnar nodded.

"I think just that. If we're only partly right he hadn't better go anywhere near that Conference ship without having everything he's got loaded full up and on the trips." The subber immerged and hurtled toward the big subs.p.a.ce communications relay. Rodnar activated it and sent out Deston's call. Minute after minute went by without reply.

"How far away can they get?" Starrlah demanded.

"This thing covers half the galaxy, doesn't it."

"With the Chaytors and converters they've got they can go anywhere," Rodnar said.

"So we'll get some more of these sets and pile 'em up in series until they'll cover the whole galaxy and half of intergalactic s.p.a.ce. They must be reached." Suddenly Knuaire interposed, "I'd like Marr in on this conference, if you don't mind, Rod-I think some heavy planning is in order." Rod nodded, and with the thought Marrjyl appeared. The Garshan Emperor's office, located between his private apartments and the Room of the Throne, was large and very ornate. Red and green, the colors of the Empire-a pure, intense, brilliant red and an equally pure and vivid green were everywhere; in art, banners, streamers, and standards. Laynch's desk, a tremendous thing of fine hardwood, was so lavishly inlaid with flat-ground rubies and emeralds that it, too, was mostly red and green. The entire wall behind the desk was one huge mosaic picture, depicting in exquisite-if more than a little sickening-detail, red-skinned warriors destroying all other races of man. There were four secretaries, splendidly proportioned young woman wearing red shirts and green shorts. There were ministers of state-Supreme Lords of this and that-and guards by the score, all dressed in the royal colors. There were communicators and recorders of every kind known to the science of Second s.p.a.ce. Laynch sat at his desk, both hands spread out flat on its spectacularly jeweled top. Both hands now looked alike, the surgeons had done such a perfect transplant job that no nonpsi knew that they were not exactly alike. The psis knew, of course, but they were all very careful indeed not to think even fleetingly of that maimed right hand or how it had become that way. They did not want to feed the eagles. As he sat there, Laynch's gorge began to rise. One of his Lords was late.

"You!" he snapped a mental order at his Supreme Commander of the Guard.

"Investigate." The officer vanished... and was gone a long half minute. He reappeared, saluted smartly, and reported.

"All-powerful, no trace of Supreme Admiral Grollo is to be found. Not in his office, where all his staff supposed him to be. Nor at home, nor in any of his usual places, nor in any s.p.a.ce I am able to scan for his pattern." Laynch's iron mask did not slip, but behind his shield his thoughts churned and seethed. He did not question the accuracy of the report, there was no need. If Sorajan Rajan of Newgarsh could not find anyone whose pattern he knew, no other need look. Nor did the Emperor have to be told what had been done or who had done it. For a moment his mind reveled in thoughts of what he would do to those two white psiontists when he caught them. Theirs would be deaths to be long remembered, under his personal supervision they would learn how long-drawn-out and how agonizing death could be, but he wasted very little time on that thought. He would have to catch them first. The disappearance of his top spy had not been unexpected. Contingency plans had long since been made. Another psionfst, equally capable and equally well hidden, had taken over. But this-the abduction of the Supreme Admiral out of his own office, tracelessly and without alarm-this was entirely unforeseen. The great defect of Laynch's makeup was his stark inability to realize-to say nothing of being able to admit-that anyone else could be as good as he was. His one mind-to-mind engagement with the Slaarans had cracked that concept of innate superiority a little, but not too much, and this abduction... After all, Grollo was not Laynch, and they had undoubtedly ganged up on him... at least two to one, and quite possibly three or four. Very well, any knife could cut both ways. He skipped over the quality of the preliminary work that had been done. Any good psiontist, he a.s.sured himself, could do that. Laynch's thinking had taken less than a second of time.

"Your report is received and approved!" he snapped, then sent a thought direct-an almost unheard-of procedure, this-to the Grand Admiral of the Fleet of Newgarsh.

"Cancel all previous orders. You are hereby promoted to be Supreme Admiral. Put entire Grand Fleet except the flagship Garsh One on maximum defensive alert. Have Garsh One ready to blast off on a special mission of indefinite duration in one hour. That is all."

"Orders received, All-Powerful," the answer snapped back.

"They are on record and are being executed. Then, in flashing thoughts, Laynch explained to the personages in his office what had happened and what he was going to do about it, concluding, "You, Supreme Commander of the Guard, you, Lord of the Treasury, and you, Lord of Commerce; will make arrangements to be absent for a time. You and your complements will be aboard the Garsh One well before time zero. That is all." They were all aboard on time, and as the great warship bored through subs.p.a.ce toward Slaar, Laynch explained as much of his plan as they should know. Those two obnoxious psiontists must be taken-alive if possible, dead if necessary. They were eight, the top eight psiontists of the Garshan race. They would operate as two quartets of two couples each. Each quartet would practice synchronization until its four minds acted and reacted as one. They would detect-flash up to objective strike. One quartet would seize Rodnar of Slaar exactly as Rodnar and his complement had seized the Supreme Admiral; the other would seize Starrlah of Slaar The new Supreme Admiral and the other powerful psiontists aboard would control any opposition that might arise. With detector webs full out, then, the Garshan psiontists prowled and prowled. They did not find the two Slaaransthen. Instead, they found the mighty Safari.

"Eagles of Garsh!" a woman shrieked mental warning.

"What kind of a ship is that." But the seven other top Garshan minds, and half a dozen others of only slightly lesser ability, had also been holding the detector web. Thus, even before the woman's warning had begun, all those other minds were probing into the huge invader from Other s.p.a.ce. They had all heard of the Safari, of course, but, since none of the Big Brains at the Interspatial Conference knew much of anything factual about her, the information that the Garshan psiontists were now obtaining was all brand new. Laynch knew that he would have only a very small fraction of a second of time in which to work, but such a mind as his, forewarned, can secure an incredibly large amount of information in an incredibly short time. The size of people gave him a rough unit of length, and he gasped mentally at the dimensions thus obtained. One lightning scan took him through the whole immense structure. He saw people-men, women, and children-going calmly about the everyday businesses and pleasures of life. He saw battery after battery of unfamiliar weapons of tremendous size and power. He saw engine-room after engine-room full of stand-by machines, anyone of which monsters of power, he knew, could not only drive any warship of his fleet but would, at full power, tear itself loose from any possible anchorage in any warship of his fleet. He would have to have their rhenium! He did not see, much to his surprised relief, any supermissiles; nor did he feel any thought of warfare or of conquest. His information had been correct, these people, in spite of their psionic powers and the powers of their weapons, were pacifists. They were soft, weak, flabby, nonaggressive. The mental atmosphere of the whole vast fabrication was one of peace! Those strange weapons, despite their terrific power, were intended primarily for defense! After that first, ultrafast sweep Laynch's mind snapped back to the room in which the Big Six were, but it was already too late to do anything about them, in spite of his fiercely-burning desire. The supersensitive Bernice Jones had already proofed the whole ship, that superpowered Cecily Train was already driving at Laynch's own mind a bolt of psychic force that made his senses reel. That white women, at least, was no pacifist! Laynch blocked, then, solidly, and pulled back, and Garsh One vanished. Vanished, and went fast and far. Then and only then did the Emperor take time to confer with his subordinates.

"We have seen and have studied the exploring vessel of the aliens of Other s.p.a.ce," Laynch began.

"I am very glad indeed to have had this look at it. I had intended to seek it out later, but this encounter makes the taking of Rodnar and Starrlah of secondary importance. We must have that vessel and we must have access to the obviously large amount of rhenium available in Other s.p.a.ce.

"While the capture of such a large and powerful vessel would be impossible if manned by Garshans, in this case it will not prove so. That vessel is not-I repeat, NOT-a warship. It is a truism of warfare that any weapon, however potent, is only as good as the mind behind it, and the people of Other s.p.a.ce are with very few exceptions, weak, spineless, and squeamish pacifists.

"They have at least two minds of real power, but even those two are of such a nature that they will not prove to be any problem for the forces we will bring to bear.

"But before I go into any detailed planning, we must pool all the knowledge we obtained during the encounter. The total should be sufficient. Each of us will put into the pool every iota of information he perceived. I will construct the framework of that pool and make the first contribution of data. Here is the framework.

"I perceived..."

18 - THE GARSHAN WAR.

Aboard the Safari there was a short, stunned silence, followed by a quick but thorough check. Nothing of harm, physical or mental, had been suffered by any thing or any person aboard. The hit-and-run attacker had vanished to some place beyond even Bernice's prodigious range.

"He... they were trying to kill us," Barbara said, flatly.

"They were trying to kill us." Her eyes were still wide with surprise and shock.

"That's right," Deston agreed, "and for getting caught flatfooted and with our pants down, I'd say we did a pretty d.a.m.ned good job of keeping them from doing it." Cecily grinned. Rather feebly, but it was a grin.

"You know what that reminds me of? An old, old flat flickie I saw in a museum once. Redskins on the prairie, catching palefaces, burning 'em at the stake." Jones's face was deadly grim.

"Yeah... but funny? Indians are people...

"D'you think I don't know that?" Cecily flared.

"Those d.a.m.n things didn't even look like Indians, stupid! But if you'd rather I'd go into a fit of screaming hysterics and...

"Steady, Sess." Train put his arm around his quivering wife and glared at Jones.

"I'm sorry, Curly," Jones said, quickly.

"Excuse it, please. I'm still in shock, I guess."

"We're all still in shock," Barbara put in, "so let's take it easy, huh? But, Babe, just who was it who said that intelligent ent.i.ties wouldn't try to kill on sight."

"Guilty as charged, pet. All I can do is throw myself on the mercy of the court. But listen. Did you, Bobby-or any of you-get any side bands of thought from those Justicians-any indication at all-that there was anything like that in this whole d.a.m.ned s.p.a.ce." The calm voice of Stella Adams surprised the six. She had been sitting quietly and unnoticed in the background.

"I can't answer your precise question, Babe-but I do have something to add to the total picture. Remember when Andy asked your permission to study your minds? After we had completed our project we received two unexplainable communications, you might call them-and of course not from any of you.

"The first was a flash so brief, so fleeting that we couldn't be sure we actually received it. An intelligence of breadth and power and scope beyond our imagining. But not threatening or in any way negative. It was followed instantly by a totally different thought-and without question that second thought came from the same mind that just tried to kill us." In full detail, then, she described to her spellbound listeners the scene of the vision, and repeated verbatim the viciously savage words of the speaker behind the desk.

"Afterward," she concluded, "we scanned all areas of s.p.a.ce we could reach seeking that specific thought pattern, but without success. It is now evident that for some reason beyond our knowledge we received a thought from Second s.p.a.ce."

"But why didn't you tell us?" Cecily began, then added, "But of course, you had your reasons." Stella's expression remained unruffled.

"Andy thought there was no point in talking about it until we secured more data. And now I think I'd better let him know about this." She rose and went to their quarters to communicate with her husband in the privacy she preferred.

"Well, I'll..." Deston didn't complete his exclamation but concluded with a shrug, "Andy's the boss. As for now, I'd say we'd better drill right out of here for that communicator and get hold of Rodnar-and we hadn't better let any s.p.a.ce barnacles grow on our plating while we're about it, either."

"You can play that in spades, chum," Jones said, and the huge subs.p.a.cer took off at full blast. Thus it was that Rodnar did not have to increase by very much the power of the highly special communicator, and in due course the four Justicians 'ported themselves into the lounge room of the Safari. Moments later Stella Adams appeared. Introductions followed, and this time there was no stiffness about the meeting, each side was glad to see the other. Neither knew much about the other and both had plenty of reservations, but they shook hands all around and got down to business.

"I'd better begin," Rodnar said, "by giving you an idea about the political situation in our galaxy, since it now involves you." In swift, graphic thoughts he sketched the structure of the Justiciate plus its history. He followed with a picture of Garsh and its position in the Justiciate; the centuries-long, grandiose planning of the red race to take over control of the one hundred eighty planets, eliminating all other races except for slaves necessary to serve what would then be the Garshan Empire. With occasional help from the other three Justicians he told of the recent abortive attempt of the then Grand Justice Laynch at a Garshan takeover, of the counter-measures that prevented his succeeding, and most recently Rodnar and Starrlah's discovery of Laynch's plans for entry into and conquest of Other s.p.a.ce-immediate objective, rhenium-and specifically, the very real threat to the Trains. The seven Galaxians had absorbed the flow of thoughts with intense interest, each keeping his own council. At Rodnar's conclusion Deston exclaimed.