Whipping Star – Jorj McKie 01
Frank Herbert
1969
A BuSab agent must begin by learning the linguistic modes and action limits (usually self-imposed) of the societies he treatsT. he agent seeks data on the functional relationships which derive from our common universe and which arise from interdependenciSesu.ch interdependencies are the frequent first victims of
word-illusions. Societies based on ignorance of original interdependencies come sooner or later to stalemate. Too long frozen, such societies die.
-BuSab Manual
Furuneo was his namAe.lichino Furuneo.He reminded, himself of this as he rode into the city to make
the long-distance callI.t was wise to firm up the ego before such
Ha ecawll.as sixty-seven years old and
could remember many cases where people had lost their identity in the sniggertrance of communication
between star systemsM.
ore than the cost and the mind-crawling sensation of dealing with a Taprisiot
transmitter, this uncertainty factor tended to keep down the number ofBcuatllFs.uruneo didn't feel he could trust anyone else with this call to Jorj X. McKie, Saboteur Extraordinary.
It was 8:08 A.M. local at Furuneo's position on the planet called Cordiality of the Sfich system.

"This is going to be very difficult, I suspect," he muttered, speaking at (but not to) the two enforcers he had brought along to guard his privacy.
They didn't even nod, realizing no reply was expected.
It was still cool from the night wind which blew across the snow plains of the Billy Mountains down to the sea.They had driven here into Division City from Furuneo's mountain fortress, riding in an ordinary groundcar, not attempting to hide or disguise their association with the Bureau of Sabotage, but not seeking to attract attention, eitheMr. any sentients had reason to resent the Bureau.
Furuneo had ordered the car left outside the city's Pedestrian Central, and they had come the rest of the way on foot like ordinary citizens.
Ten minutes ago they had entered the reception room of this buItildwinags. a Taprisiot breeding center,
one of only about twenty known to exist in the universe, quite an honor for a minor planet like Cordiality.
The reception room was no more than fifteen meters wide, perhaps thirty-fivIet hloandg.tan walls with
pitted marks in them as though they had been soft once and someone had thrown a small ball at them according to some random whimA.long the right side across from where Furuneo stood with his
enforcers was a high bencIht. occupied three-fourths of the long wMallu.lti-faceted rotating lights above it cast patterned shadows onto the face of the bench and the Taprisiot standing atop it.
Taprisiots came in odd shapes like sawed-off lengths of burned conifers, with stub limbs jutting every
which way, needlelike speech appendages fluttering even when they remained beat a nervous rhythm on the surface where it stood.
For the third time since entering, Furuneo asked, "Are you the transmitter?"
No answer.
Tsihleisnt.one's skidfeet
Taprisiots were like thaNt.o sense getting angryI.t did no goodF.uruneo allowed himself to be annoyed, though.Damned Taprisiots!

One of the enforcers behind Furuneo cleared his throat.
Damn this delay! Furuneo thought.
The whole Bureau had been in a state of jitters ever since the max-alert message on the Abnethe case. This call he was preparing to make might be their first realHberesaekn.sed the fragile urgency ofItit.
could be the most important call he had ever mAandde. directly to McKie, at that.
The sun, barely over the Billy Mountains, spread an orange fan of light around him from the windowed doorway through which they had entered.
'"Looks like it's gonna be a long wait for this Tappy," one of his enforcers muttered.
Furuneo nodded curtlyH. e had learned several degrees of patience in sixty-seven years, especially on his way up the ladder to his present position as planetary agent for the TBhuereauw.as only one thing
to do here:wait it out quietlyT.aprisiots took their own time for whatever mysterious reasTohnesr.e was no other store, though, where he could buy the service he neededWnitohwou.t a Taprisiot transmitter, you didn't make real-time calls across interstellar space.
Strange, this Taprisiot talent -- used by so many sentients without understaTnhdeinsge.nsational press abounded with theories on how it was accomplishFeodr. all anyone knew, one of the theories could be
right. Perhaps Taprisiots did make these calls in a way akin to the data linkage among PanSpechi creche mates -- not that this was understood, either.
It was Furuneo's belief that Taprisiots distorted space in a way similar to that of a Caleban jumpdoor, sliding between the dimensionsI.f that was really what Caleban jumpdoors Mdido.st experts denied this
theory, pointing out that it would require energies equivalent to those produced by fair-sized stars.
Whatever Taprisiots did to make a call, one thing was cIetrtianivno: lved the human pineal gland or its equivalent among other sentients.

The Taprisiot on the high bench began moving from side to side.
"Maybe we're getting through to it," Furuneo said.
He composed his features, suppressed his feelings of unTeahsise. was, after all, a Taprisiot breeding
center. Xenobiologists said Taprisiot reproduction was all quite tame, but Xenos didn't know everything. Look at the mess they'd made of analyzing the PanSpechi Con-Sentiency.
"Putcha, putcha, putcha," the Taprisiot on the bench said, squeaking its speech needles.
"Something wrong?" one of the enforcers asked.
"How the devil do I know?" Furuneo snapHpe .faced the Taprisiot, said, "Are you the transmitter?"
"Putcha, putcha, putcha," the Taprisiot sa"iTdh. is is a remark which I will now translate in the only way that may make sense to ones like yourselves of Sol/Earth ancWeshtrayt. I said was, 'I question your sincerity.' "
"You gotta justify your sincerity to a damn Taprisiot?" one of the enforcer"sSaesekmesd. to me . . ."
"Nobody asked you!" Furuneo cut him Aofnfy. Didn't the fool know this?
probing attack by a Taprisiot was likely a greeting.
Furuneo separated himself from the enforcers, crossed to a position below the"Ibewnicshh. to make a call to Saboteur Extraordinary Jorj X. McKie," he s"aYido.ur robogreeter recognized and identified me and took my creditchiAt. re you the transmitter?""Where is this Jorj X. McKie?" the Taprisiot asked.
"If I knew, I'd be off to him in person through a jumpdoor," Furun"Teohissaiisd.an important caAll.re you the transmitter?"

"Date, time, and place," the Taprisiot said.
Furuneo sighed and relaxeHd.e glanced back at the enforcers, motioned them to take up stations at the room's two doors, waited while they obeyeWd. ouldn't do to have this call overheHared. turned then,
gave the required local coordinates.
"You will sit on floor," the Taprisiot said.
"Thank the immortals for that," Furuneo mutteHreed'd.
once made a call where the transmitter had led
him to a mountainside in wind and driving rain and made him stretch out, head lower than feet, before opening the overspace contacIt.t had had something to do with "refining the embedment," whatever that meant. He'd reported the incident to the Bureau's data center, where they hoped one day to solve the Taprisiot secret, but the call had cost him several weeks with an upper respiratory infection.
Furuneo sat.
Damn!The floor was cold!
Furuneo was a tall man, two meters in bare feet, eighty-four standarHd iskilhoasi.r was black with a
dusting of grey at the eaHrse.
had a thick nose and wide mouth with an oddly straight lowHe
lip.
favored his left hip as he sAat.disgruntled citizen had broken it during one of his early tours with the
Bureau. The injury defied all the medics who had told him, "It won't bother you a bit after it's healed."
"Close eyes," the Taprisiot squeaked.
Furuneo obeyed, tried to squirm into a more comfortable position on the cold, hard floor, gave it up.
"Think of contact," the Taprisiot ordered.

Furuneo thought of Jorj X. McKie, building the image in his mind -- squat little man, angry red hair, face like a disgruntled frog.
Contact began with tendrils of cloying awarenFeussr.uneo became in his own mind a red flow sung to the tune of a silver lyHrei.s body went remoteA. wareness rotated above a strange landscapTeh.e sky
was an infinite circle with its horizon slowly turnHineg.sensed the stars engulfed in loneliness.
"What the ten million devils!"
The thought exploded across FuruneToh.ere was no evading
Hit.e recognized it at oncCe.ontactees
frequently resented the calTl.hey couldn't reject it, no matter what they were doing at the time, but they could make the caller feel their displeasure.
"It never failsI!t never fails!"
McKie would be jerked to full inner awareness now, his pineal gland ignited by the long-distance contact.
Furuneo settled himself to wait out the cuWrsehse.n they had subsided sufficiently, he identified himself,
said, "I regret any inconvenience I may have caused, but the maxalert failed to say where you could be located. You must know I would not have called unless it were important."
A more or less standard opening.
"How the hell do I know whether your call's important?" McKie dem"aSntdoepd.babbling and get on with it!"
This was an unusual extension of anger even for the volatile M"DciKd ieI. interrupt something important?" Furuneo ventured.
"I was just standing here in a telicourt getting a divMorccKe!i"e said."Can't you imagine what a great

time everyone here's having, watching me mubble-dubble to myself in a sniggertGraentcet?o the business!"
"A Caleban Beachball washed ashore last night below Division City here on Cordiality," Furuneo said.
"In view of all the deaths and insanity and the max-alert message from the Bureau, I thought I'd better call you at onceI.t's still your case, isn't it?"
"Is this your idea of a joke?" McKie demanded.
In lieu of red tape, Furuneo cautioned himself, thinking of the Bureau Imt awxaims .a private thought, but McKie no doubt was catching the mood of it.
"Well?" McKie demanded.
Was McKie deliberately trying to unnerve him? Furuneo wondHeroewd. could the Bureau's prime
function -- to slow the processes of government -- remain operative on an internal matter such as this call? Agents were duty bound to encourage anger in government because it exposed the unstable, temperamental types, the ones who lacked the necessary personal control and ability to think under psychic stress, but why carry this duty over to a call from a fellow agent?
Some of these thoughts obviously bled through the Taprisiot transmitter because McKie reflected them, enveloping Furuneo in a mental sneer.
"You lotsa time unthink yourself," McKie said.
Furuneo shuddered, recovered his sense of sAehlfh. h, that had been closHe.e'd almost lost his ego! Only the veiled warning in McKie's words had alerted him, allowing recFouvreurnye. o began casting about in his mind for another interpretation of McKie's reacIntitoenrr.upting the divorce could not account for itI.f the stories were true, the ugly little agent had been married fifty or more times.
"Are you still interested in the Beachball?" Furuneo ventured.

"Is there a Caleban in it?"
"Presumably."
"You haven't investigated?M" cKie's mental tone said Furuneo had been entrusted with a most crucial operation and had failed because of inherent stupidity.
Now fully alert to some unspoken danger, Furuneo said, "I acted as my orders instructed."
"Orders!" McKee sneered.
"I'm supposed to be angry, eh?" Furuneo asked.
"I'll be there as fast as I can get service -- within eight standard hours at the most," M"YcoKuire said. orders, meanwhile, are to keep that Beachball under constant observaTtihoen.observers must be
hopped up on angereIt.t's their only protection."
"Constant observation," Furuneo said.
"If a Caleban emerges, you're to detain it by any means possible."
"A Caleban . . . detain it?"
"Engage it in conversation, request its cooperation, anything," McKieHsiasidm. ental emphasis added
that it was odd a Bureau agent should have to ask about throwing a monkey wrench into someone's activities.
"Eight hours," Furuneo said.

"And don't forget the angeret."
A Bureau is a life form and the Bureaucrat one of iTtshicselalsn.alogy teaches us which are the more important cells, which in greatest peril, which most easily replaced, and how easy it is to be mediocre.
-Later Writings of Bildoon IV
McKie, on the honeymoon planet of Tutalsee, took an hour to complete his divorce, then returned to the float-home they had moored beside an island of love flowEveersn. the nepenthe of Tutalsee had failed
him, McKie thoughtT. his marriage had been wasted effoHrti.s ex hadn't known enough about Mliss
Abnethe despite their reported former associatioBnu. t that had been on another world.
This wife had been his fifty-fourth, somewhat lighter of skin than any of the others and more than a bit of a shrew.It had not been her first marriage, and she had shown early suspicions of McKie's secondary motives.
Reflection made McKie feel guilHtye. Too much was at stakSe.tupid female!
put such feelings aside savageTlyh.ere was no time for nicety.

She had already vacated the float-home, and McKie could sense the living entity's reseHnetmheandt. shattered the idyll which the float-home had been conditioned to cTrehaetef.loat-home would return to its former affability once he was goTnhe.ey were gentle creatures, susceptible to sentient irritation.
McKie packed, leaving his toolkit asiHde examined ita:
selection of stims, plastipicks, explosives in
various denominations, raygens, multigoggles, pentrates, a wad of uniflesh, solvos, miniputer, Taprisiot life
monitor, holoscan blanks, rupters, comparators . . . all in concealed in an inner pocket of his nondescript jacket.
Torhdeert.oolkit was a fitted wallet which he
He packed a few changes of clothing in a single bag, consigned the rest of his possessions to BuSab storage, left them for pickup in a sealpack which he stored on a couple of cThahierdyogaps.peared to
share the float-home's resentmenTt.hey remained immobile even when he patted them affectionately.
Ah, well. . . .
He still felt guilty.
McKie sighed, took out his S'eye kTehyi.s jump was going to cost the Bureau megacreCdoitrsd. iality lay halfway across their universe.
Jumpdoors still seemed to be working, but it disturbed McKie that he must make this journey by a means which was dependent upon a CalebEaner.ie situation.S'eye jumpdoors had become so common
that most sentients accepted them without questiMonc.Kie had shared this common acceptance before the max-alert.Now he wondered at himselCf.asual acceptance demonstrated how easily rational thought
could be directed by wishful thinkinTgh.is was a common susceptibility of all sentieTnhtse.
Caleban
jumpdoor had been fully accepted by the Confederated Sentients for some ninety standardBuyteainrs. that time, only eighty-three Calebans were known to have identified themselves.
McKie flipped the key in his hand, caught it deftly.
Why had the Calebans refused to part with their gift unless everyone agreed to call it Wa h"aSt'eye"?
was so important about a name?

I should be on my way, McKie told himSstiell .he delayed.
Eighty-three Calebans.
The max-alert had been explicit in its demand for secrecy and its outline of the Cparloebblaenms: had been disappearing one by onDe.isappearing -- if that was what the Caleban manifestation could be called. And each disappearance had been accompanied by a massive wave of sentient deaths and insanity.
No question why the problem had been dumped in BuSab's lap instead of onto some police agency. Government fought back wherever it couPldo:werful men hoped to discredit BuSaMb.cKie found his
own share of disturbance in wondering about the hidden possibilities in the selection of himself as the sentient to tackle this.
Who hates me? he wondered as he used his personally tuned key in the juTmhpedaonosrw. er was that many people hated himM. illions of people.
The jumpdoor began to hum with its aura of terrifying enTerhgeiesd.oor's vortal tube snapped open. McKie tensed himself for the syrupy resistance to jumpdoor passage, stepped through thIet wtuabse. like swimming in air become molasses -- perfectly normal-appearingBuatir.molasses.
McKie found himself in a rather ordinary oftfhicee:usual humdrum whirldesk, alert-flicker light patterns cascading from the ceiling, a view out one transparent wall onto a mountaIninstihdee. distance the rooftops of Division City lay beneath dull gray clouds, with a luminous silver sea MbecyKoined's.
implanted brainclock told him it was late afternoon, the eighteenth hour of a twenty-six-hoTuhrisday. was Cordiality, a world 200,000 light-years from Tutalsee's planetary ocean.
Behind him, the jumpdoor's vortal tube snapped closed with a crackling sound like the discharge of electricity. A faint ozone smell permeated the air.
The room's standard-model chairdogs had been well trained to comfort their masters, McKie noted. One of them nudged him behind the knees until he dropped his bag and took a reluTcthaent seat.

chairdog began massaging his bacOk.bviously it had been instructed to make him comfortable while someone was summoned.
McKie tuned himself to the faint sounds of normality aroundFohoitmst.eps of a sentient could be heard
in an outer passageA.
Wreave by the sound ofthiat:t peculiar dragging of the heel on a favored foot.
There was a dim conversation somewhere, and McKie could make out a few Lingua-galach words, but it sounded like a multilingual conversation.
He began fidgeting, which set the chairdog into a burst of rippling movements to sooEtnhfeorhciemd . idleness nagged at himW. here was Furuneo?McKie chided himselfF. uruneo probably had many planetary duties as BuSab agent heAren. d he couldn't know the full urgency of their probTlheims .might be one of the planets where BuSab was spread Tthen.gods of immortality knew the Bureau could always find work.
McKie began reflecting on his role in the affairs of senOtiennccey,. long centuries past, con-sentients with a psychological compulsion to "do good" had captured the governUmneanwt.are of the writhing complexities, the mingled guilts and self-punishments, beneath their compulsion, they had eliminated
virtually all delays and red tape from governmTenhte.
great machine with its blundering power over
sentient life had slipped into high gear, had moved faster and Lfawtesr.had been conceived and passed in the same houAr.ppropriations had flashed into being and were spent in a fortNniegwht.
bureaus for the most improbable purposes had leaped into existence and proliferated like some insane fungus.
Government had become a great destructive wheel without a governor, whirling with such frantic speed that it spread chaos wherever it touched.
In desperation, a handful of sentients had conceived the Sabotage Corps to slow thaTthwerheeehla. d been bloodshed and other degrees of violence, but the wheel had been sIlnowtiemd.e, the Corps had become a Bureau, and the Bureau was whatever it was today -- an organization headed into its own corridors of entropy, a group of sentients who preferred subtle diversion to violence . . . but were prepared for violence when the need arose.
A door slid back on McKie's riHghist. chairdog became stilFl.uruneo entered, brushing a hand through the band of grey hair at his leftHeiasr.wide mouth was held in a straight line, a suggestion of sourness about it.
"You're early," he said, patting a chairdog into place across from McKie and seating himself.

"Is this place safe?" McKie askHede. glanced at the wall where the S'eye had disgorgedThem. jumpdoor was gone.
"I've moved the door back downstairs through its own tube," Furune"oThsaisid.place is as private as I
can make it."He sat back, waiting for McKie to explain.
"That Beachball still down thereM?"cKie nodded toward the transparent wall and the distant sea.
"My men have orders to call me if it makes any move," Furun"eIot wsaaisd. washed ashore just like I
said, embedded itself in a rock outcropping, and hasn't moved since."
"Embedded itself?"
"That's how it seems."
"No sign of anything in it?"
"Not that we can seTeh.e Ball does appear to be a bit . . . bangTedheruep.are some pitting and a few external scars.What's this all about?"
"No doubt you've heard of Mliss Abnethe?"
"Who hasn't?"
"She recently spent some of her quintillions to hire a Ca"leban.

"Hire a . . F.u"runeo shook his head".I didn't know it could be done."
"Neither did anyone else."
"I read the max-alert," Furuneo sa"iAd.bnethe's connection with the case wasn't explained."
"She's a bit kinky about floggings, you know," McKie said.
"I thought she was treated for that."
"Yeah, but it didn't eliminate the root of her proIbtlejmus.t fixed her so she couldn't stand the sight of a sentient suffering."
"So?"
"Her solution, naturally, was to hire a Caleban."
"As a victim!" Furuneo said.
Furuneo was beginning to understand, McKie sSaowm. eone had once said the problem with Calebans was that they presented no patterns you could recognTihzies. was true, of coursIef. you could imagine
an actuality, a being whose presence could not be denied but who left your senses dangling every time you tried to look at it -- then you could imagine a Caleban.
"They're shuttered windows opening onto eternity," as the poet Masarard put it.
In the first Caleban days, McKie had attended every Bureau lecture and briefing aboHute tthreiemd. to recall one of those sessions now, prompted by a nagging sensation that it had contained something of value to his present problemIt. had been something about "communications difficulties within an aura of

affliction." The precise content eluded himO.dd, he thoughtI.t was as though the Calebans' crumbled projection created an effect on sentient memory akin to their effect on sentient vision.
Here lay the true source of sentient uneasiness about CaleTbhaenisr. artifacts were real -- the S'eye jumpdoors, the Beachballs in which they were reputed to live -- but no one had ever really seen a Caleban.
Furuneo, watching the fat little gnome of an agent sit there thinking, recalled the snide story about
McKie, that he had been in BuSab since the day before he was born.
"She's hired a whipping boy, eh?" Furuneo asked.
"That's about it."
"The max-alert spoke of deaths, insanity. . . .'
"Are all your people dosed with angeret?" McKie asked.
"I got the message, McKie."
"Good.Anger seems to afford some protection."
"What exactly is going on?"
"Calebans have been . . . vanishing," McKie "sEavide.ry time one of them goes, there are quite a few deaths and . . . other unpleasant effects -- physical and mental crippling, insanity. . . ."
Furuneo nodded in the direction of the sea, leaving his question unspoken.

McKie shrugged". We'll have to go take a loTokh.e hell of it is, up until your call there seemed to be only one Caleban left in the universe, the one Abnethe hired.'"
"How're you going to handle this?"
"That's a beautiful question," McKie said.
"Abnethe's Caleban," Furuneo sai"dI.t have anything to say by way of explanation?"
"Haven't been able to interview it," McKie
"saWide.
don't know where she's hidden herself -- or it."
"Don't know. . . F.u"runeo blinked."Cordiality's pretty much of a backwater."
"That's what I've been thinkinYgo. u said this Beachball was a little the worse for wear?"
"That's odd, isn't it?"
"Another oddity among many."
"They say a Caleban doesn't get very far from its Ball," Furune"oAnsdaidth. ey like to park 'em near water."
"How much of an attempt did you make to communicate with it?"
"The usualH. ow'd you find out about Abnethe hiring a Caleban?"

"She bragged to a friend who bragged to a friend wAhond. o. n.e of the other Calebans dropped a hint before disappearing."
"Any doubt the disappearances and the rest of it are tied together?"
"Let's go knock on this thing's door and find out," McKie said.
Language is a kind of code dependent upon the life rhythms of the species which originated the language. Unless you learn those rhythms, the code remains mostly unintelligible.
-BuSab Manual
McKie's immediate ex-wife had adopted an early attitude of resentment toward B"TuhSeayb.use you!" she had protested.
He had thought about that for a few minutes, wondering if it might be the reason he found it so easy to use others.She was right, of course.

McKie thought about her words now as he and Furuneo sped by groundcar toward the Cordiality coast. The question in McKie's mind was, How are they using me thisSetitmtineg? aside the possibility
that he had been offered up as a sacrifice, there were still many possibilities inWreas ritveh.is legal training they needed?Or had they been prompted by his unorthodox approach to interspecies relationships? Obviously they entertained some hope for a special sort of official sabotage -- but what sort? Why had his instructions been so incomplete?
"You will seek out and contact the Caleban which has been hired by Madame Mliss Abnethe, or find any other Caleban available for sentient contact, and you will take appropriate action."
Appropriate action?
McKie shook his head.
"Why'd they choose you for this giFgu?r"uneo asked.
"They know how to use me," McKie said.
The groundcar, driven by an enforcer, negotiated a sharp turn, and a vista of rocky shore opened before them. Something glittered in the distance among black lava palisades, and McKie noted two aircraft
hovering above the rocks.
"That it?"he asked.
"Yes."
"What's the local time?"
"About two and a half hours to sunset," Furuneo said, correctly interpreting McKie's
"cWonicllertnh.e

angeret protect us if there's a Caleban in that thing and it decides to . . . disappear?"
"I sincerely hope so," McKie sa"iWd.hy didn't you bring us by aircar?"
"People here on Cordiality are used to seeing me in a groundcar unless I'm on official business and require speed."
"You mean nobody knows about this thing yet?"
"Just the coastwatchers for this stretch, and they're on my payroll."
"You run a pretty tight operation here," McKie "sAairden. 't you afraid of getting too efficient?"
"I do my best," Furuneo saHide. tapped the driver's shoulder.
The groundcar pulled to a stop at a turnaround which looked down onto a reach of rocky islands and a low lava shelf where the Caleban Beachball had come to"Yreosut. know, I keep wondering if we really
know what those Beachballs are."
"They're homes," McKie grunted.
"So everybody says."
Furuneo got ouAt.
cold wind set his hip achi"nWg.e walk from here," he said.
There were times during the climb down the narrow path to the lava shelf when McKie felt thankful he
had been fitted with a gravity web beneath his Isfkihne.
fell, it would limit his rate of descent to a

non-injurious speed.But there was nothing it could do about any beating he might receive in the surf at the base of the palisades, and if offered no protection at all against the chill wind and the driving spray.
He wished he'd worn a heatsuit.
"It's colder than I expected," Furuneo said, limping out onto the lavHa eshwelafv. ed to the aircarOs.ne dipped its wings, maintaining its place in a slow, circling track above the Beachball.
Furuneo struck out across the shelf and McKie followed, jumped across a tidal pool, blinked and bent
his head against a gust of windborne spTrahye.
pounding of the surf on the rocks was loudThheerye.
had to raise their voices to make themselves understood.
"You see?" Furuneo shoute"dL. ooks like it's been banged around a bit."
"Those things are supposed to be indestructible," McKie said.
The Beachball was some six meters in diamIettesra.t solidly on the shelf, about half a meter of its bottom surface hidden by a depression in the rock, as though it had melted out a resting place.
McKie led the way up to the lee of the Ball, passing Furuneo in the last feHwe mstoetoedrs.there, hands in pockets, shiveringT.he round surface of the Ball failed to cut off the cold wind.
"It's bigger than I expected," he said as Furuneo stopped beside him.
"First one you've ever seen close up?"
"Yeah."
McKie passed his gaze across the thKinngo. bs and indentations marked the opaque metallic surfIatce.

seemed to him the surface variations carried some patSteerns.ors, perhaps?Controls of some kind? Directly in front of him there was what appeared to be a crackled mark, perhaps from aItcolalylision. just below the surface, presenting no roughness to McKie's exploring hand.
What if they're wrong about these things?" Furuneo asked.
"Mmmm?"
"What if they aren't Caleban homes?"
"Don't knowD. o you recall the drill?"
"You find a 'nippled extrusion' and you knock Wone itried thatT. here's one just around to your left."
McKie worked his way around in that direction, getting drenched by a wind-driven spray in the process. He reached up, still shivering from the cold, knocked at the indicated extrusion.
Nothing happened.
Every briefing I ever attended says there's a door in these things somewhere," McKie grumbled.
"But they don't say the door opens every time you knock," Furuneo said.
McKie continued working his way around the Ball, found another nippled extrusion, knocked.
Nothing.

"We tried that one, too," Furuneo said. "I feel like a damn fool," McKie said. "Maybe there's nobody home."
"Remote control?" McKie asked.
"Or abandoned -- a derelict."
McKie pointed to a thin green line about a meter long on the Ball's windward"Wsuhrafta'scet.hat?"
Furuneo hunched his shoulders against spray and wind, stared at th"eDolinn'et . recall seeing it."
"I wish we knew a lot more about these damn things," McKie grumbled.
"Maybe we aren't knocking loud enough," Furuneo said.
McKie pursed his lips in thougPhrte.sently he took out his toolkit, extracted a lump of low-grade explosive. "Go back on the other side," he said.
"You sure you ought to try that?" Furuneo asked.
"No."
"Well --"Furuneo shrugged, retreated around the Ball.

McKie applied a strip of the explosive along the green line, attached a time-thread, joined Furuneo.
Presently, there came a dull thump that was almost drowned by the surf.
McKie felt an abrupt inner silence, found himself wondering, What if the Caleban gets angry and springs a weapon we've never heard oHf?e darted around to the windward side.
An oval hole had appeared above the green line as though a plug had been sucked into the Ball.
"Guess you pushed the right button," Furuneo said.
McKie suppressed a feeling of irritation which he knew to be mostly angeret effect, saidG,iv"eYeah. me a leg up.F"uruneo, he noted, was controlling the drug reaction almost perfectly.
With Furuneo's help McKie clambered into the open port, stared suggestion of movement within the dimness.
"See anything?" Furuneo called.
Dinusildl ep.urple light greeted him, a
"Don't know."McKie scrambled inside, dropped to a carpeted floHoer. crouched, studied his surroundings in the purple glowH.is teeth clattered from the coTldh.e room around him apparently
occupied the entire center of the Ball -- low ceiling, flickering rainbows against the inner surface on his left, a giant soup-spoon shape jutting into the room directly across from him, tiny spools, handles, and knobs against the wall on his right.
The sense of movement originated in the spoon bowl.
Abruptly, McKie realized he was in the presence of a Caleban.

"What do you see?" Furuneo called.
Without taking his gaze from the spoon, McKie turned his head s"lTighhetlrye.'s a Caleban in here."
"Shall I come in?"
"No.Tell your men and sit tight."
"Right."
McKie returned his full attention to the bowl of the
Hspiosotnh.roat felt dryH. e'd never before been
alone in the presence of a CalebTanh.is was a position usually reserved for scientific investigators armed with esoteric instruments.
"I'm . . . ah, Jorj X. McKie, Bureau of Sabotage," he said.
There was a stirring at the spoon, an effect of radiated meaning immediately behind the m"oIvement:
make your acquaintance."
McKie found himself recalling Masarard's poetic description in Conversation With a Caleban.
"Who can say how a Caleban speaks?" Masarard had w"riTttheeni.r words come at you like the coruscating of a nine-ribbon Sojeu barber poTlhe.e insensitive way such words radiaIte.say the
Caleban speaks.When words are sent, is that not speeScehn?d me your words, Caleban, and I will tell the universe of your wisdom" .
Having experienced the Caleban's words, McKie decided Masarard was a pretentioTusheass.
Caleban radiated.Its communication registered in the sentient mind as sound, but the ears denied they had heard anythingI.t was the same order of effect that Calebans had on theYoeuyefse.lt you were

seeing something, but the visual centers refused to agree.
"I hope my . . . ah, I didn't disturb you," McKie said.
"I possess no referent for disturb," the Caleban "sYaiodu.
bring a companion?"
"My companion's outside," McKie saNido.
referent for disturb?
"Invite your companion," the Caleban said.
McKie hesitated, then, "FuruneoC!'mon in."
The planetary agent joined him, crouched at McKie's left in the purple "gDlaomomn,. that's cold out there," Furuneo said.
"Low temperature and much moisture," the Caleban agrMeecdK. ie, having turned to watch Furuneo enter, saw a closure appear from the solid wall beside the opeWn ipnodr,t.spray, and surf were shut off.
The temperature in the Ball began to rise. "It's going to get hot," McKie said. "What?"
"Hot.Remember the briefings?Calebans like their air hot and drHy.e" could already feel his damp clothing begin to turn clammy against his skin.

"That's right," Furuneo sai"dW.
hat's going on?"
"We've been invited in," McKie sa"iWd.e didn't disturb him because he has no referent for disHtuerb." turned back to the spoon shape.
"Where is he?"
"In that spoon thing."
"Yeah . . . I, uh -- y"eah.
"You may address me as Fanny Mae, "the Caleban"Isacidan. equivalents for female".
reproduce my kind and answer the
"Fanny Mae," McKie said with what he knew to be stupid vHacouwityc.an you look at the damn thing? Where is its face"?My companion is Alichino Furuneo, planetary agent on Cordiality for the Bureau of Sabotage."Fanny Mae?Damn!
"I make your acquaintance," the Caleban s"aPide.rmit an inquiry into the purpose for your visit."
Furuneo scratched his right e"aHr.ow're we hearing it?H" e shook his head".I can understand it, but. . .
."
"Never mind!" McKie saiAd.nd he warned himselfG: ently now. How do you question one of these
things? The insubstantial Caleban presence, the twisting away his mind accepted the thing's words -- it all combined with the angeret in producing irritation.
"I . . . my orders," McKie s"aI ids.eek a Caleban employed by Mliss Abnethe."

"I receive your questions," the Caleban said.
Receive my questions?
McKie tried tipping his head from side to side, wondered if it were possible to achieve an angle of vision where the something across from him would assume recognizable substance.
"What're you doing?" Furuneo asked.
"Trying to see it."
"You seek visible substance?" the Caleban asked.
"Uhhh, yes," McKie said.
Fanny Mae? he thoughIt would be like an original encounter with the Gowachin planets, the first
Earth-human encountering the first froglike Gowachin, and the Gowachin introducing himself as William.
Where in ninety thousand worlds did the Caleban dig up that
Ananmde?why?
"I produce mirror," the Caleban said, "which reflects outward from projection along plane of being."
"Are we going to see it?" Furuneo whispe"rNedo.body's ever seen a Caleban.'°
"Shhh."
A half-meter oval something of green, blue, and pink without apparent connection to the empty-presence of the Caleban materialized above the giant spoon.

"Think of this as stage upon which I present my selfdom," the Caleban said.
"You see anything?" Furuneo asked.
McKie's visual centers conjured a borderline sensation, a feeling of distant life whose rhythms danced unfleshed within the colorful oval like the sea roaring in an emptyHeshreellc.alled a one-eyed friend and
the difficulty of focusing the attention on that lonely eye without being drawn to the vacaWnthypatch.
couldn't the damn fool just buy a new
Weyeh?y couldn't. . . .
He swallowed.
"That's the oddest thing I ever saw," Furuneo whisp"eYreodu.
see it?"
McKie described his visual sensatio"nT.hat what you see?"
"I guess so," Furuneo said.
"Visual attempt fails," the Caleban sa"iPde.rhaps I employ insufficient contrast."
Wondering if he could be mistaken, McKie thought he detected a plaintive mood in the Caleban's words. Was it possible Calebans disliked not being seen?
"It's fine," McKie sai"dN. ow, may we discuss the Caleban who . . ."
"Perhaps overlooking cannot be connected," the Caleban said, interrup"tWineg. enter state for which there exists no remedy'A. s well argue with the night,' as your poets tell us."

The sensation of an enormous sigh swept out from the Caleban and over ItMwcKasie.sadness, a
doom-fire gloom.He wondered if they had experienced an angeret faiTluhre. emotional strength carried terror within it.
"You feel that?" Furuneo asked.
"Yes."
McKie felt his eyes burninHge.
blinked.Between blinks, he glimpsed a flower element hovering within
the oval -- deep red against the room's purple, with black veins woven through it, Slowly it blossomed, closed, blossomed.He wanted to reach out, touch it with a handful of compassion.
"How beautiful," he whispered. "What is it?" Furuneo whispered. "I think we're seeing a Caleban." "I want to cry," Furuneo said.
"Control yourself," McKie cautioneHd.e cleared his throaTt.wanging bits of emotion tumbled through
him. They were like pieces cut from the whole and loosed to seek their own was lost in the mixture.
Tpahteterannsg.eret effect
Slowly the image in the oval fadTehde.
emotional torrent subsided.
"Wheweee," Furuneo breathed.
"Fanny Mae," McKie venture"dW.
hat was . . ."

"I am one employed by Mliss Abnethe," the Caleban"Csaoirdr.ect verb usage?"
"Bang"' Furuneo said".Just like that."
McKie glanced at him, at the place where they had entered thNeoBsaiglln.
remained of the oval hole.
The heat in the room was becoming unbearaCbloer.rect verb usage?He looked at the Caleban manifestation. Something still shimmered above the spoon shape, but it defied his visual centers to describe it.
"Was it asking a question?" Furuneo asked.
"Be still a minute," McKie snapp"eId.want to think."
Seconds ticked pastF.uruneo felt perspiration running down his neck, under his cHolelarc.ould taste it in the corners of his mouth.
McKie sat silently staring at the giant spToohne. Caleban employed by AbnethHe.e still felt the
aftermath of the emotional melangSeo. me lost memory demanded his attention, but he couldn't bring it out for examination.
Furuneo, watching McKie, began to wonder if the Saboteur Extraordinary had been mesm"Yeroizued. still thinking?" he whispered.
McKie nodded, then, "Fanny Mae, where is your employer?"
"Coordinates not permitted," the Caleban said.
"Is she on this planet?"

"Different connectives," the Caleban said.
"I don't think you two are talking the same language," Furune'o said.
"From everything I've read and heard about Calebans, that's the big problem," McKie said. "Communication difficulty."
Furuneo wiped sweat from his forehe"aHd.ave you tried calling Abnethe long distance?" he asked.
"Don't be stupid," McKie sa"idT.hat's the first thing I tried."
"Well?"
"Either the Taprisiots are telling the truth and can't make contact, or she's bought them off some way. What difference does it makeS?o I contact herH. ow does that tell me where sheHios?w do I invoke a monitor clause with someone who doesn't wear a monitor?"
"How could she buy off the Taprisiots?"
"How do I knowF?or that matter, how could she hire a Caleban?"
"Invocation of value exchange," the Caleban said.
McKie chewed at his upper lip.
Furuneo leaned against the wall behind hHime .knew what inhibited McKie heYreo. u walked softly

with a strange sentient specieNs.o telling what might cause affroEntv.en the way you phrased a question could cause troubleT. hey should have assigned a Zeno expert to help McItKsieemed odd that they hadn't.
"Abnethe offered you something of value, Fanny Mae?" McKie ventured.
"I offer judgment," the Caleban sa"iAd.bnethe may not be judged friendly-good-nice-kindly . . . acceptable."
"Is that . . . your judgment?" McKie asked.
"Your species prohibits flagellation of sentients," the Caleban "sFaaidn.ny Mae orders me flagellated."
"Why don't you . . . just refuse?" McKie asked.
"Contract obligation," the Caleban said.
"Contract obligation."McKie muttered, glancing at Furuneo, who shrugged.
"Ask where she goes to be flagellated," Furuneo said.
"Flagellation comes to me," the Caleban said.
"By flagellation, you mean you're whipped," McKie said.
"Explanation of whipping describes production of froth," the Caleban"Nsaoidt .proper termA. orders me flogged."
bnethe

"That thing talks like a computer," Furuneo said.
"Let me handle this," McKie ordered.
"Computer describes mechanical device," the Caleban s"aIidl.ive."
"He meant no insult," McKie said.
"Insult not interpreted."
"Does the flogging hurt you?" McKie asked.
"Explain hurt."
"Cause you discomfort?"
"Reference recalledS. uch sensations explainedE. xplanations cross no connectives." Cross no connectives? McKie thoug"hWt. ould you choose to be flogged?" he asked. "Choice made," the Caleban said.
"Well . . . would you make the same choice if you had it to do over?" McKie asked.
"Confusing reference," the Caleban sa"idIf.
over refers to repetition, I make no voice in repetition.
Abnethe sends Palenki with whip, and flogging occurs."

"A Palenki!" Furuneo saiHd.e shuddered.
"You knew it had to be something like that," McKie"Wsahiadt. else could you get to do such a thing except a creature without much brain and lots of obedient muscle?"
"But a PalenkiC! ouldn't we hunt for. ."
"We've known from the first what she had to be using," McK"ieWshaeirde. do you hunt for one Palenki?" He shrugged."Why can't Calebans understand the concept of being hIus rti?t pure semantics, or do they lack the proper nerve linkages?"
"Understand nerves," the Caleban sa"idA.ny sentience must possess control linkagBesu. t hurt . . . discontinuity of meaning appears insurmountable."
"Abnethe can't stand the sight of pain, you said," Furuneo reminded McKie.
"Yeah.How does she watch the floggings?"
"Abnethe views my home," the Caleban said.
When no further answer was forthcoming, McKie said, "I don't underWstahnadt's. it?"
that have to do with
"My home this," the Caleban sa"iMd.y home contains . . . aligMns?aster S'eye.Abnethe possesses connectives for which she pays."
McKie wondered if the Caleban were playing some sarcastic game witBhuht imall. the information
about them made no reference to sarcasWmo. rd confusions, yes, but no apparent insults or subterfuges.

Not understand pain, though?
"Abnethe sounds like a mixed-up bitch," McKie muttered.
"Physically unmixed," the Caleban sa"idIs.olated in her own connectives now, but unified and presentable by your standards -- so say judgments made in my preIsfe, nhcoe.wever, you refer to Abnethe psyche, mixed-up conveys accurate descriptioWn.hat I see of Abnethe psyche most intertwined. Convolutions of odd color displace my vision-sense in extraordinary fashion."
McKie gulped". You see her psyche?"
"I see all psyche."
"So much for the theory that Calebans cannot see," Furuneo "sAalild.is illusion, eh?"
"How . . . how is this possible?" McKie asked.
"I occupy space between physical and mental," the Caleban"Tsahiuds. your terminology."
"Gibberish," McKie said.
"You achieve discontinuity of meaning," the Caleban said.
your fellow sentients explain in
"Why did you accept Abnethe's offer of employment?" McKie asked.
"No common referent for explanation," the Caleban said.

"You achieve discontinuity of meaning," Furuneo said.
"So I surmise," the Caleban said.
"I must find Abnethe," McKie said.
"I give warning," the Caleban said.
"Watch it," Furuneo whispere"dI. sense rage that's not connected with the angeret."
McKie waved him to silenc"eW. hat warning, Fanny Mae?"
"Potentials in your situation," the Caleban s"aIida.llow my . . . persoYne?s, my personI.
allow my
person to entrap itself in association which fellow sentients may interpret as non-friendly."
McKie scratched his head, wondered how close they were to anything that could validly be called communication. He wanted to come right out and inquire about the Caleban disappearances, the deaths and insanity, but feared possible consequences.
"Non-friendly," he prompted.
"Understand," the Caleban said, "life which flows in all carries subternal conneEcatcivhese.ntity remains linked until final discontinuity removes from . . . netwYoersk,? linkages of other entities into association with Abnethe.Should personal discontinuity overtake self, all entities entangled share it."
"Discontinuity?" McKie asked, not sure he followed this but afraid he did.
"Tanglements come from contact between sentients not originating in same linearities of awareness," the

Caleban said, ignoring McKie's question.
"I'm not sure what you mean by discontinuity," McKie pressed.
"In context," the Caleban said, "ultimate discontinuity, presumed opposite of pleasure -- your term."
"You're getting nowhere," Furuneo saHidi.s head ached from trying, to equate the radiant impulses of communication from the Caleban with speech.
"Sounds like a semantic identity situation," McKie find an interpretation in between."
"All between," the Caleban said.
"Presumed opposite of pleasure," McKie muttered.
"Our term," Furuneo reminded him.
"sBailda.ck and white statements, but we're trying to
"Tell me, Fanny Mae," McKie said, "do we other sentients refer to this ultimate discontinuity as death?"
"Presumed approximate term," the Caleban sa"iAd.bnegation of mutual awareness, ultimate discontinuity, death -- all appear similar descriptives."
"If you die, many others are going to die, is that it?" McKie asked.
"All users of S'eyAe.ll in tanglement

"All?" McKie asked, shocked.
"All such in your . . . wDavieff?icult concept.Calebans possess label for this concept . . . plane? Planguinity of beings?Surmise proper term not sharePd.roblem concealed in visual exclusion which clouds mutual association."
Furuneo touched McKie's arm"I.s she saying that if she dies, everyone who's used a S'eye jumpdoor goes with her?"
"Sounds like it."
"I don't believe it!"
"The evidence would seem to indicate we have to believe her."
"But . . . ."
"I wonder if she's in any danger of going soon," McKie mused aloud.
"If you grant the premise, that's a good question," Furuneo said.
"What precedes your ultimate discontinuity, Fanny Mae?" McKie asked.
"All precedes ultimate discontinuity."
"Yeah, but are you headed toward this ultimate discontinuity?"

"Without choice, all head for ultimate discontinuity."
McKie mopped his foreheaTd.he temperature inside the ball had been going up steadily.
"I fulfill demands of honor," the Caleban "sAaidcq. uaint you with prospecSt.entients of your . . . planguinity appear unable, lacking means of withdrawal from influence of my association with Abnethe. Communication understood?"
"McKie," Furuneo said, "have you any idea how many sentients have used a jumpdoor?"
"Damn near everyone."
"Communication understood?" the Caleban repeated.
"I don't now," McKie groaned.
"Difficult sharing of concepts," the Caleban said.
"I still don't believe it," McKie s"aIitd.squares with what some of the other Calebans said, near as we can reconstruct it after the messes they've left."
"Understand withdrawal of companions creates disruption," the Caleban "sDaisr.uption equates with mess?"
"That's about it," McKie sa"idT.ell me, Fanny Mae, is there immediate danger of your . . . ultimate discontinuity?"
"Explain imminent," the Caleban said.

"Soon!" McKie snapped".Short time!"
"Time concept difficult," the Caleban sa"iYd.ou inquire of personal ability to surmount flagellation?"
"That's good enough," McKie sa"idH.ow many more flagellations can you survive?"
"Explain survive," the Caleban said.
"How many flagellations until you experience ultimate discontinuity?" McKie demanded, fighting down the angeret-reinforced frustration.
"Perhaps ten flagellations," the Caleban sa"iPde.rhaps lesser numberP. erhaps more." "And your death will kill all of Musc?K" ie asked, hoping he'd misunderstood. "Lesser number than all," the Caleban said.
"You just think you're understanding her," Furuneo said.
"I'm afraid I understand her!"
"Fellow Calebans," the Caleban said, "recognizing entrapment, achieve withdrawThinugs. they avoid discontinuity."
"How many Calebans remain in our . . . plane?" McKie asked.

"Single entity of selfness," the Caleban said.
"Just the one," McKie muttere"dT.hat's a damn thin thread!"
"I don't see how the death of one Caleban can cause all that havoc," Furuneo said.
"Explain by comparison," the Caleban sa"iSdc.ientist of your planguinity explains reaction of stellar
selfdom. Stellar mass enters expanding conditioInn.
this condition, stellar mass engulfs and reduces all
substances to other energy patternAs.ll substances encountered by stellar expansion chanTgheu. s
ultimate discontinuity of personal selfdom reaches along linkages of S'eye connectives, repatterns all entities encountered."
"Stellar selfdom," Furuneo said, shaking his head.
"Incorrect term?" the Caleban asked, "Energy selfdom, perhaps."
"She's saying," McKie said, "that use of S'eye doors has tangled us with her life sHomere dweatyh. will reach out like a stellar explosion along all these tangled networks and kill us."
"That's what you think she's saying," Furuneo objects,,
"That's what I have to believe she's saying," McKie"Osauird.communication may be tenuous, but I
think she's sincereC. an't you still feel the emotions radiating from her?"
"Two species can be said to share emotions only in the broadest way," Furun"eSohesadiode. sn't even understand what we mean by pain."
"Scientist of your planguinity," the Caleban said, "Explains emotional base for communLicaactikoing emotional commonality, sameness of labels uncertaEinm. otion concept not certain for Calebans. Communication difficulty assumed."

McKie nodded to himselHf.e could see a further complicatiothne:
problem of whether the Caleban's
words were spoken or radiated in some unthinkable manner completed their confusion.
"I believe you're right in one thing," Furuneo said.
"Yes?
"We have to assume we understand her."
McKie swallowed in a dry thro"aFta.nny Mae," he said, "have you explained this ultimate discontinuity prospect to Mliss Abnethe?"
"Problem explained," the Caleban sa"idF.ellow Calebans attempt remedy of erroArb. nethe fails of comprehension, or disregards consequencesC. onnectives difficult."
"Connectives difficult," McKie muttered.
"All connectives of single S'eye," the Caleban
"sMaida.ster S'eye of self creates mutual problem."
"Don't tell me you understand that," Furuneo objected.
"Abnethe employs Master S'eye of self," the Caleban "sCaoidn:tract agreement gives Abnethe right of use. One Master S'eye of selAf.bnethe uses."
"So she opens a jumpdoor and sends her Palenki through it," Furune"oWshayidd. on't we just wait here and grab her?"

"She could close the door before we even got near her," McKie g"rNowo,letdh.ere's more to what this Caleban's saying.I think she's telling us there's only one Master S'eye, the control system, perhaps, for all the jumpdoors . . . and Fanny Mae here is in control of it, or the channel ope. r.a"tion or .
"Or something," Furuneo snarled.
"Abnethe control S'eye by right of purchase," the Caleban said.
"See what I mean?" McKie sa"iCdan you override her control, Fanny Mae?"
"Terms of employment require not interfere."
"But can't you still use your own S'eye doors?" McKie pressed.
"All use," the Caleban said.
"This is insane!" Furuneo snapped.
"Insanity defines as lack of orderly thought progression in mutual acceptance of logical terms," the Caleban said."Insanity frequent judgment of one species upon other spePcireosp.er interpretation otherwise."
"I think I just had my wrist slapped," Furuneo said.
"Look," McKie said, "the other deaths and insanity around Caleban disappearances substantiate our interpretation. We're dealing with something explosive and dangerous."
"So we find Abnethe and stop her."

"You make that sound so simple," McKie
"saHider.e are your ordersG. et out of here and alert the
Bureau. The Caleban's communication won't show on your recorder, but you'll have it all down in your memory. Tell them to scan you for it."
"Right.You're staying?"
"Yes."
"What'll I say you're doing?"
"I want a look at Abnethe's companions and her surroundings."
Furuneo cleared his throaGt.ods of the underworld, it was h"oHt!ave you thought of, you know, just bang?" He made the motion of firing a raygen.
"There's a limit on what can go through a jumpdoor and how fast," McKie"Ycohuidekdn.ow that."
"Maybe this jumpdoor's different."
"I doubt it."
"After I've reported in, what then?"
"Sit tight outside there until I call you -- unless they give you a messagOe hf,oranmd es. tart a general search on Cordiality . . . just in case."

"Of course."Furuneo hesitated."One thing -- who do I contact at the BurBeialduo?on?"
McKie glanced upW. hy should Furuneo question whom to caWll?hat was he trying to say?
It dawned on McKie then that Furuneo had hit on a logical cBounScearbn.director Napoleon Bildoon
was a PanSpechi, a pentarchal sentient, human only in appearSaninccee.
McKie, a human, held nominal
charge of this case, that might appear to confine control of it, excluding other members of the ConSentiency. Interspecies political infighting could take odd turns in a time of Isttrwesosu. ld be best to involve a broad directorate here.
"Thanks," McKie said".I wasn't thinking much beyond the immediate problem."
"This is the immediate problem."
"I understandA.
ll right, I was tapped for this chore by our Director of Discretion."
"Gitchel Siker?"
"Yes."
"That's one Laclac and Bildoon, a PanSpeWchhi.o else?"
"Get somebody out of the Legal Department."
"Bound to be a human."
"The minute you stretch it that far, they'll all get the message," McK"Tiehesya'ildl . bring in the others before making any official decision."

Furuneo nodded". One other thing."
"What?"
"How do I get out of here?"
McKie faced the giant spoo"nG.ood question.Fanny Mae, how does my companion leave here?"
"He wishes to journey where?"
"To his home."
"Connectives apparent," the Caleban said.
McKie felt a gush of
Haiirs.
ears popped to a change in pressTurhee.re was a sound like the pulling of
a cork from a bottlHe.e whirled.Furuneo was gone.
"You . . . sent him homMe?c"Kie asked.
"Correct," the Caleban sai"dD. esired destination visibleS. ent swiftness.Prevent temperature drop below proper level".
McKie, feeling perspiration roll down his cheeks, said, "I wish I knew how youCdaind ythoaut. actually see our thoughts?"
"See only strong connectives," the Caleban said.

Discontinuity of meaning, McKie thought.
The Caleban's remark about temperature came back to Whihma.t was a proper temperature level? Damn! It was boiling in herHe!is skin itched with perspiratioHn.is throat was dryP.roper temperature level?
"What's the opposite of proper?" he asked.
"False," the Caleban said.
The play of words can lead to certain expectations which life is unable tTohmisaticsha. much insanity and other forms of unhappiness.
-Wreave Saying
source of
For a reflexive time which he found himself unable to measure, McKie considered his exchange with the
Caleban. He felt cast adrift without any familiar reference poHinotsw.
could false be the opposite of

proper? If he could not measure meanings, how could he measure time?
McKie passed a hand across his forehead, gathering perspiration which he tried to wipe off on his jacket. The jacket was damp.
No matter how much time had passed, he felt that he still knew where he was in thTisheuniverse. Beachball's interior walls remained around hiTmh.e unseeable presence of the Caleban had not become
less mysterious, but he could look at the shimmering existence of the thing and take a certain satisfaction from the fact that it spoke to him.
The thought that every sentient who had used a jumpdoor would die if this Caleban succumbed sat on
McKie's awareness.It was muscle-numbingH. is skin was slick with perspiration, and not all of it from the heat.There were voices of death in this Haeir.thought of himself as a being surrounded by all those pleading sentients -- quadrillions upon quadrillions of thHemel.p us!
Everyone who'd used a jumpdoor.
Damnation of all devilHs!ad he interpreted the Caleban correctlIyt?was the logical assumptioDn.eaths and insanity around the Caleban disappearances said he must exclude any other interpre' tation.
Link by link, this trap had been forIgtewd.ould crowd the universe with dead flesh.
The shimmering oval above the giant spoon abruptly waved outward, contracted, flowed up, down, left. McKie received a definite impression of distreTshs.e oval vanished, but his eyes still tracked the
Caleban's unpresence.
"Is something wrong?" McKie asked.
For answer the round vortal tube of a S'eye jumpdoor opened behind the CBaelyeobnadn. the opening stood a woman, a figure dwarfed as though seen through the wrong end of a tMelecsKcoiepe.
recognized her from all the newsvisos and from the holoscans he had been fed as background briefing for this assignment.

He was confronting Mliss Abnethe in a light somewhat reddened by its slowed passage through the jumpdoor.
It was obvious that the Beautybarbers of Steadyon had been about their expensive work on her person. He made a mental note to have that checHker. figure presented the youthful curves of a pleasurefem.
The face beneath fairy-blue hair was focused around a red-petal mLoaurtghe. summery green eyes and a sharply cleaving nose conveyed odd contrast -- dignity versus hoSyhdeenw. as a flawed queen, age mingled with youthS. he must be at least eighty standard years, but the Beautybarbers had achieved this startling combination:available pleasurefem and remote, hungry power.
The expensive body wore a long gown of grey rainpearls which matched her, movement for movement,
like a glittering skinS.he moved nearer the vortal tubAes. blocked off first her feet, then her legs, thighs, waist.
she approached, the edges of the tube
McKie felt his knees age a thousand years in that brief pHasesargeem. ained crouched near the place where he'd entered the Beachball.
"Ahhh, Fanny Mae," Mliss Abnethe sa"iYd.ou have a guest.J"umpdoor interference caused her voice to sound faintly hoarse.
"I am Jorj X. McKie, Saboteur Extraordinary," he said.
Was that a contraction in the pupils of her eyes? McKie wonSdheeresdt.opped with only her head and shoulders visible in the tube's circle.
"And I am Mliss Abnethe, private citizen."
Private citizen! McKie thoughTt.his bitch controlled the productive capacity of at least five hundred worlds. Slowly McKie got to his feet.
"The Bureau of Sabotage has official business with you," he said, putting her on notice to satisfy the

legalities.
"I am a private citizen!" she barkTehde.
voice was prideful, vain, marred by petulance.
McKie took heart at the revealed weaknIetssw. as a particular kind of flaw that often went with wealth and power.He had had experience in dealing with such flaws.
"Fanny Mae, am I your guest?" he asked.
"Indeed," the Caleban sai"dI. open my door to you."
"Am I your employer, Fanny Mae?" Abnethe demanded.
"Indeed, you employ me."
A breathless, crouching look came over her fHaceer . eyes went to slit"sV. ery well.Then prepare to fulfill the obligations of . . ."
"One moment!" McKie saiHd.e felt desperate. Why was she moving so faWst?hat was that faint whine in her voice?
"Guests do not interfere," Abnethe said.
"BuSab makes its own decisions about interference!" McKie said.
"Your jurisdiction has limits!" she countered.

McKie heard the beginnings of many actions in that statehmireendt: operatives, gigantic sums spent as bribes, doctored agreements, treaties, stories planted with the visos on how this good and proud lady had been mistreated by her government, a wide enlistment of personal concern to justify -- what?
Violence against his personH? e thought notM. misdeeds.
ore likely to discredit him, to saddle him with onerous
Thought of all that power made McKie wonder suddenly why he made himself vulneraWblheytohaidt. he chosen BuSab?Because I'm difficult to please, he told himsI'emlf. a Saboteur by choicTe.here was
no going back on that choice noBwu.Sab appeared to walk down the middle of everywhere and always wound up on the high road.
And this time BuSab appeared to be carrying most of the sentient universe on its sIht owuladseras. fragile burden perched theref.earful and fearedI.t had sunk stark claws into him.
"Agreed, we have limits," McKie growled, but I doubt you'll ever seeNothwe,mw. hat's going on here?"
"You're not a police agent!" Abnethe barked.
"Perhaps I should summon police," McKie said.
"On what grounds?S"he smiled.She had him there and knewHiet.r legal staff had explained to her the open association clause in the ConSentient Articles of Federa"tiWonh:en members of different species
agree formally to an association from which they derive mutual benefits, the contracting parties shall be the sole judges of said benefits, providing their agreement breaks no law, covenant, or legative article binding upon said contracting parties; provided further that said formal agreement was achieved by voluntary means and involves no breach of the public peace."
"Your actions will bring about the death of this Caleban," McKiHe esadidid.n't hold out much hope for this argument, but it bought a bit more time.
"You'll have to establish that the Caleban concept of discontinuity interprets precisely as death," Abnethe said. "You can't do that, because it's not tWrueh.y do you interfereT?his is just harmless play between consenting ad --"

"More than play," the Caleban said.
"Fanny Mae!" Abnethe snappe"dY. ou are not to interrupRt!emember our agreement."
McKie stared in the direction of the Caleban's unpresence, tried to interpret the spectrum-flare that rejected his senses.
"Discern conflict between ideals and structure of government," the Caleban said.
"Precisely!" Abnethe said".I'm assured that Calebans cannot suffer pain, that they don't even have a term for itI.f it's my pleasure to stage an apparent flogging and observe the reactions of . . ."
"Are you sure she suffers no pain?" McKie asked.
Again a gloating smile came over Abnethe's f"aI'cvee.
never seen her suffer paHina. ve you?"
"Have you seen her do anything?"
"I've seen her come and go."
"Do you suffer pain, Fanny Mae?" McKie asked.
"No referents for this concept," the Caleban said.
"Are these floggings going to bring about your ultimate discontinuity?" McKie asked.

"Explain bring about," the Caleban said.
"Is there any connection between the floggings and your ultimate discontinuity?"
"Total universe connectives include all events," the Caleban said.
"I pay well for my game," Abnethe
"sSaitdo.p interfering, McKie."
"How're you paying?"
"None of your business!"
"I make it my business," McKie s"aFida.nny Mae?"
"Don't answer him!" Abnethe snapped.
"I can still summon police and the officers of a Discretionary Court," McKie said.
"By all means," Abnethe gloate"dY.ou are, of course, ready to answer a suit charging interference with an open agreement between consenting members of different species?"
"I can still get an injunction," McKie
"sWaidh.at's your present address?"
"I decline to answer on advice of counsel."
McKie glared at heSr.he had himH. e could not charge her with flight to prevent prosecution unless he

had proved a crimeT. o prove a crime he must get a court to act and serve her with the proper papers in the presence of bonded witnesses, bring her into a court, and allow her to face her Aanccdusheerrs.
attorneys would tie him in knots every step of the way.
"Offer judgment," the Caleban sa"idN.othing in Abnethe contract prohibits revelation of payment. Employer provides educators."
"Educators?" McKie asked.
"Very well," Abnethe concede"dI. provide Fanny Mae with the finest instructors and teaching aids our civilization can supplyS. he's been soaking up our cultuAren. ything she requested, she's goAt.nd it
wasn't cheap."
"And she still doesn't understand pain?" McKie demanded.
"Hope to acquire proper referents," the Caleban said.
"Will you have time to acquire those referents?" McKie asked.
"Time difficult concept," the Caleban sa"iSdt.atement of instructor, to w'iRt:elevancy of time to learning varies with species.T' ime possesses length, unknown quality termed duration, subjective and objective dimension. Confusing. "
"Let's make this official," McKie sa"iAd.bnethe, are you aware that you're killing this Caleban?"
"Discontinuity and death are not the same," Abnethe obje"cAterde. they, Fanny Mae?"
"Wide disparity of equivalents exists between separate waves of being," the Caleban said.

"I ask you formally, Mliss Abnethe," McKie said, "if this Caleban calling herself Fanny Mae has told you the consequences of an event she describes as ultimate discontinuity."
"You just heard her say there are no equivalents!"
"You've not answered my question."
"You're quibbling!"
"Fanny Mae," McKie said, "have you described for Mliss Abnethe the consequences of . . ."
"Bound by contract connectives," the Caleban said.
"You see!" Abnethe pounce"dS. he's bound by our open agreement, and you're interferiAngb.n"ethe gestured to someone not visible in the jumpdoor's vortal tube.
The opening suddenly doubled its diameAtebr.nethe stepped aside, leaving half her head and one eye
visible to McKieA.
crowd of watching sentients could now be discerned in the backgIrnotuond.
Abnethe's place darted the turtle form of a giant PalIetsnkhi.undreds of tiny feet flickered beneath its
bulk. The single arm growing from the top of its ring-eyed head trailed a long whip in a double-thumbed hand. The arm thrust through the tube, jerked the whip against jumpdoor resistance, lashed the whip forward. The whip cracked above the spoon bowl.
A crystalline spray of green showered the unseeable region of the CIatlegblaitnte. red for a moment like a fluorescent explosion of fireworks, dissolved.
An ecstatic moan came through the vortal tube.
McKie fought an intense outpouring sensation of distress, leaped forIwnsatradn.tly, the S'eye jumpdoor
closed, dumping a severed Palenki arm and whip onto the floor of theThreooamrm. turned, slower . . . slowIetr.fell still.
writhed and

"Fanny Mae?" McKie said.
"Yes?"
Did that whip hit you?" "Explain whip hit." "Encounter your substance!" "Approximately."
McKie moved close to the spoon boHwel. still sensed distress but knew it could be a side effect of angeret and the incident he had just witnessed.
"Describe the flogging sensation," he said.
"You possess no proper referents."
"Try me."
"I inhaled substance of whip, exhaled my own substance."
"You breathed it?"

"Approximately."
"Well . . . describe your physical reactions."
"No common physical referents."
"Any reaction, dammit!"
"Whip incompatible with my glssrrk."
"Your what?"
"No common referents."
"What was that green spray when it hit you?"
"Explain greenspray."
By referring to wavelengths and describing airborne water droplets, with a side excursion into wave and wind action, McKie thought he conveyed an approximate idea of green spray.
"You observe this phenomenon?" the Caleban asked.
"I saw it, yes."
"Extraordinary!"

McKie hesitated, an odd thought filling his mCinodu.ld we be as insubstantial to Calebans as they appear to us?
He asked.
"All creatures possess substance relative to their own quantum existence," the Caleban said.
"But do you see our substance when you look at us?"
"Basic difficultyY. our species repeats this questioPn.ossess no certain answer."
"Try to explainS.tart by telling me about the green spray."
"Greenspray unknown phenomenon."
"But what could it be?"
"Perhaps interplanar phenomenon, reaction to exhalation of my substance."
"Is there a limit of how much of your substance you can exhale?"
"Quantum relationship defines limitations of your plManoe.vement exists between planar origins. Movement changes referential relatives."
No constant referentsM? cKie wondered.But there had to bHe!e explored this aspect with the
Caleban, questions and answers obviously making less and less sense to both of them.

"But there must be some constant!" McKie exploded.
"Connectives possess aspect of this constant you seek," the Caleban said.
"What are connectives?"
"No . . ."
"Referents!" McKie stormed".Then why use the term?"
"Term approximatesT. angential occlusion another term expression something similar."
"Tangential occlusion," McKie muttereTd.hen, "tangential occlusion?"
"Fellow Caleban offers this term after discussion of problem with Laclac sentient possessing rare insight."
"One of you talked this over with a LaclacW,
heho?was this Laclac?"
"Identity not conveyed, but occupation known and understandable."
"Oh?What was his occupation?"
"Dentist."

McKie exhaled a long, held breath, shook his head with bewilde"rmYoenut.understand -- dentist?
"All species requiring ingestion of energy sources must reduce such sources to convenie"nt form.
"You mean they bite?" McKie asked.
"Explain bite."
"I thought you understood dentist!"
"Dentist -- one who maintains system by which sentients shape energy for ingestion," the Caleban said.
"Tangential occlusion," McKie muttere"dE. xplain what you understand by occlusion."
"Proper matching of related parts in shaping system."
"We're getting nowhere," McKie growled. "Every creature somewhere," the Caleban said. "But where?Where are you, for example?" "Planar relationships unexplainable."
"Let's try something else," McKie sa"iId'v.e heard you can read our writing."

"Reducing what you term writing to compatible connectives suggests time-constant communication," the
Caleban said."Not really certain, however, of time-constant or required connect"ives.
"Well . . . let's go at the verb to see, "McK"ieTeslal idm.e what you understand by the action of seeing."
"To see -- receive sensory awareness of external energy," the Caleban said.
McKie buried his face in his hanHdes.felt dispirited, his brain numbed by the Caleban's radiant bombardment. What would be the sensory organHs?e knew such a question would only send them off on another empty label chase.
He might as well be listening to all this with his eyes or with some other organ rude and unfitted to its task. Too much depended on what he dMidc.Kie's imagination sensed the stillness which would follow
the death of this Caleban -- an enormous solitAudefe. w infants left, perhaps -- but doomAeldl . the good, the beautiful, the evil . . . everything sentient . . . aDllumgobnec.reatures which had never gone through a jumpdoor would remaiAn.nd winds, colors, floral perfumes, birdsong -- these would continue after the crystal shattering of sentiency.
But the dreams would be gone, lost in that season ofTdheeareth.would be a special kind of silenoe:
more beautiful speech strewn with arrows of meaning.
Who could console the universe for such a loss?
Presently he dropped his hands, said, "Is there somewhere you could take this . . . your home where
Mliss Abnethe couldn't reach you?"
"Withdrawal possible."
"Well, do it!"

"Cannot."
"Why?"
"Agreement prohibits."
"Break the damned agreement!"
"Dishonorable action brings ultimate discontinuity for all sentients on your . . . suggest wave as preferred term. Wave. Much closer than planeP.lease substitute concept of wave wherever plane used in our discussion."
This thing's impossible, McKie thought.
He lifted his arms in a gesture of frustration and, in the movement, felt his body jerk as a long-distance call ignited his pineal glanTd.he message began to roll, and he knew his body had gone into the sniggertrance, mumbling and chuckling, trembling occasionally.
But this time he didn't resent the call.

All definitions, no matter the language, should be considered probationary.
-The Caleban Question by Dwel Hartavid
"Gitchel Siker here," the caller said.
McKie imagined the Bureau's Director of Discretion, a suave little Laclac sitting in that nicely tailored environment back at CentraSl.iker would be relaxed, fighting tendril withdrawn, his face split open, an elite chairdog ministering to his flesh, trained minions a button-push away.
"About time you called," McKie said.
"About time I called?"
"Well, you certainly must've gotten Furuneo's message quite a . . ."
"What message?"
McKie felt as though his mind had touched a grinding wheel shooting off ideas likNeospmarekssage from Furuneo?
"Furuneo," McKie said, "left here long enough ago to . . ."

"I'm calling," Siker interrupted, "because there's been no sign of either of you for too damn long, and
Furuneo's enforcers are worriedO. ne of them . W. .here was Furuneo supposed to go and how?"
McKie felt an idea blossoming in his m"iWndh.ere was Furuneo born?"
"Born?On Landy-B.Why?"
"I think we'll find him theTrhe.e Caleban used its S'eye system to send him hIofmhee. better send for himH. e was supposed to . . ."
hasn't called yet,
"Landy-B only has three Taprisiots and one jumpdIot'sor.a retreat planet, full of recluses and . . ."
"That'd explain the delaMy.eanwhile, here's the situation. . . . "
McKie began detailing the problem.
"Do you believe this, this ultimate discontinuity thing?" Siker interrupted.
"We have to believe Tith.e evidence all says it's true."
"Well, maybe . . . but . . ."
"Can we afford a maybe, Siker?"
"We'd better call in the police."
"I think she wants us to do just that."

"Wants us. . W. .hy?"
"Who'd have to sign a complaint?"
Silence.
"Are you getting the picture?" McKie pressed.
"It's on your head, McKie."
"It always isB. ut if we're right, that doesn't make any difference, does it?"
"I'm going to suggest," Siker said, "that we contact the top level in the Central Police Bureau -- for consultation only.Agreed?"
"Discuss that with BildooMn.eanwhile, here's what I want donAes.semble a Bureau ConSentient
Council, draft another max-alert messagKe.eep the emphasis on Calebans, but bring in the Palenkis, and start looking into Abnethe's . . ."
"We can't do that, and you know it!"
"We have to do it."
"When you took this assignment, your received a full explanation of why we . . ."
"Utmost discretion doesn't mean hands off," McKie
"sIafidt.hat's the way you're thinking, then you've

missed the importance of . . ."
"McKie, I can't believe . . ."
"Sign off, Siker," McKie sa"idI'.m going over your head to Bildoon."
Silence.
"Break this contact!M" cKie ordered.
"That won't be necessary."
"Won't it?"
"I'll put the agents onto Abnethe at oIncsee your poinIt.f we assume that . . ."
"We assume," McKie said.
"The orders will be issued in your name, of course," Siker said.
"Keep your skirts clean any way you like," McKie"Nsaoidw., have our people start probing into the
Beautybarbers of SteadyonS. he's been there, and recentlAy.lso, I'll be sending along a whip she . . ."
"A whip?"
"I just witnessed one of the flagellatioAnbsn. ethe cut the connection while her Palenki still had an arm through the S'eye doorC. ut the arm right ofTf.he Palenki will grow another arm, and she can hire more

Palenkis, but the whip and arm could give us aPlaelaedn.kis don't practice gene tagging, I know, but it's the best we have at the moment."
"I understandW.
hat'd you see during the . . . incident?"
"I'm getting to that."
"Hadn't you better come in and put your report directly onto a transcorder?" "I'll depend on you for thDaot.n't think I should show at Central for a bit." "Mmm. See what you meaSn.he'll try to tie you up with a countersuit."
"Or I miss my gueNsso. w, here's what I sawW. hen she opened the door, she practically filled it, but I could see what appeared to be a window in the backgrIofunitd.was a window, it opened onto a cloudy sky. That means daylight."
"Cloudy?"
"Yes.Why?"
"It's been cloudy here all morning."
"You don't think she's . . . no, she wouldn't."
"Probably not, but we'll have Central scoured just to beWsiuthre.her money, no telling who she might've bought."

"Yeah . . . well, the PaleIntks i.shell carried an odd design -- triangles, diamonds in red and orange, and a rope or snake of yellow wound all the way around and through it.
"Phylum identification," Siker said.
"Yes, but what Palenki family?"
"Well, we'll check
Wit. hat else?"
"There was a mob of sentients behind her during the actual floI gsgaiwng.Preylings, couldn't miss those wire tentacles.There were some Chithers, a few Soborips, some Wreaves . . ."
"Sounds like her usual patch of sycophaRnetsc.ognize any of them?"
"I'll try for ID's later, but I couldn't attach any names to thBisutmtohbe.re was one, a PanSpechi, and he was stage-frozen or I miss my guess."
"You sure?"
"All I know is what I saw, and I saw the scars on his forehead -- ego surgery, sure as I'm sniggering."
"That's against every PanSpechi legal, moral, and ethical . . ."
"The scars were purple," McKie sa"iTdh. at checks, doesn't it?"
"Right out in the open, no makeup or anything to cover the scars?"

"Nothing.If I'm right, it means he's the only PanSpechi withAnhoetrh.er would kill him on sight."
"Where could she be where there'd be only one PanSpechi?"
"Beats meO.
h, and there were some humans, too -- green uniforms."
"Abnethe house guards."
"That's the way I made it."
"Quite a mob to be hiding away."
"If anyone can afford it, she can."
"One more thing," McKie sa"idI . smelled yeast."
"Yeast?"
"No doubt about iTt.here's always a pressure differential through a jumpdIotorw. as blowing our way. Yeast."
"That's quite a bag of observations."
"Did you think I was getting careless?"
"No more than usuaAl.re you absolutely sure about that PanSpechi?"

"I saw the eyes."
"Sunken, the facets smoothing over?"
"That's the way it looked to me."
"If we can get a PanSpechi to make an official observation of this fellow, that'd give us a lever. Harboring a criminal, you know."
"Apparently, you haven't much experience with PanSpechi," McKie "sHaiodw. 'd you get to be Director of Discretion?"
"All right, McKie, let's not . . ."
"You know damn well a PanSpechi would blow up if he saw thisOfuerll obs.erver would try to dive through the jumpdoor and . . ."
"So?"
"Abnethe would close it on hSimhe. 'd have half of our observer, and we'd have the other half."
"But that'd be murder!"
"An unfortunate accident, no more."
"That woman does swing a lot of weight, I admit, but . . ."

"And she'll have our hides if she can make it stick that she's a private citizen and we're trying to sabotage her."
"Messy," Siker agreed".I hope you made no official sounds in her direction."
"Ah, but I did."
"You what?"
"I put her on official notice."
"McKie, you were told to handle this with dis --"
"Look, we want her to start official acCtiohnec. k with LegalS. he can try a countersuit against me personally, but if she moves against the Bureau, we can ask for a seratori hearing, a personal confrontation. Her legal staff will advise her of tNhaot,. she'll try to get at . . ."
"She may not go into court against the Bureau," Siker said, "but she's certain to set her dAongds on us. it couldn't come at a worse timBeil.doon has just about used up his ego-tiHmee'l.l be going into the
creche any time nowY. ou know what that means."
"The Bureau Director's chair up for grabs," McKie "sIa'vied. been expecting it."
"Yes, but things'll be in a real uproar around here."
"You're eligible for the seat, Siker."

"So are you, McKie."
"I pass."
"That'll be the dayW! hat I'm worried about is BildooHne. 'll blow when he hears about this ego-frozen
PanSpechi. That might be all it takes to . . ."
"He'll handle it," McKie said, putting more confidence into the statement than he felt.
"And you could be wronIg.hope you know I'm not passing."
"We all know you want the job," McKie said.
"I can imagine the gossip."
"Is it worth it?"
"I'll let you know."
"I'm sure you will."
"One thing," Siker sai"dH. ow're you going to keep Abnethe off your back?"
"I'm going to become a schoolteacher," McKie said.
"I don't think I want that explained," Siker Hsaeidb. roke the contact.

McKie found himself still seated in the purple gloom of the BeaScwhbeatl.bathed his bodyT. he place
was an ovenH.
e wondered if his fat was actually being reduced by theWhaeteart. loss, certainlyT. he
instant he thought of water, he sensed the dryness in his throat.
"You still there?" he rasped.
Silence.
"Fanny Mae?"
"I remain in my home," the Caleban said.
The sensation that he heard the words without hearing grated on McKie, fed on the angeret in his system, stirred a latent ragDe.amn superior stupid CalebanG! ot us into a real mess!
"Are you willing to cooperate with us in trying to stop these floggings?" McKie asked.
"As my contract permits."
"All rightT. hen you insist to Abnethe that you want me as your teacher."
"You perform functions of teacher?"
"Have you learned anything from me?" McKie asked.
"All mingled connectives instruct."

"Connectives," McKie muttered".I must be getting old."
"Explain old," the Caleban said.
"Never mindW.
e should've discussed your contract first thiMnga.ybe there's a way to breakUint.der
what laws was it executed?"
"Explain laws."
"What honorable system of enforcement?" McKie blared.
"Under natural honor of sentient connectives."
"Abnethe doesn't know what honor means."
"I understand honor."
McKie sighed". Were there witnesses, signatures, that sort of thing?"
"All my fellow Calebans witness connectivSeisg.natures not understoodE. xplain."
McKie decided not to explore the concept of signatIunrsetse.ad he asked, "Under what circumstances could you refuse to honor your contract with Abnethe?"
After a prolonged pause the Caleban said, "Changing circumstances convey variable relationships. Should Abnethe fail in her connectives or attempt redefinition of essences, this could produce linearities

open for my disentanglement."
"Sure," McKie said".That figures."
He shook his head, studied the empty air above the giant Cspaloeobna.ns! You couldn't see them, couldn't hear them, couldn't understand them.
"Is the use of your S'eye system available to me?" McKie asked.
"You function as my teacher."
"Is that a yes?"
"Affirmative answer."
"Affirmative answer," McKie echoe"dF. ine. Can you also transport objects to me, sending them where
I direct?"
"While connectives remain apparent."
"I hope that means what I think it does," McKie"Asraeid.you aware of the Palenki arm and whip over there on your floor?"
"Aware."
"I want them sent to a particular office at CeCnatrnaly. ou do that?"

"Think of office," the Caleban said.
McKie obeyed.
"Connectives available," the Caleban sa"idY.ou desire sending to place of examination."
"That's right!" "Send now?" "At once."
"Once, yesM.
ultiple sending remains outside our capabilities."
"Huh?"
"Objects going."
As McKie blinked, the arm and whip snapped out of his view accompanied by a sharp crack of exploding air.
"Do the Taprisiots work in any way similar to what you do transporting things?" McKie asked.
"Message transportation minor energy level," the Caleban
"sBaieda.utybarbers even more minor."
"I guess so," McKie sa"idW. ell, never mindT. here's the little matter of my friend, Alichino Furuneo, though. You sent him home, I believe?"

"Correct."
"You sent him to the wrong home."
"Creatures possess only one home."
"We sentients have more than one home."
"But I view connectives!"
McKie felt the wash of radiant objection from the Caleban, steadied h"iNmoseldfo. ubt," he said".But he has another home right here on Cordiality."
"Astonishment fills me."
"Probably.The question remains, can you correct this situation?"
"Explain situation."
"Can you send him to his home on Cordiality?"
Pause then, "That place not his home."
"But can you send him there?"

"You wish this?"
"I wish it."
"Your friend converses through a Taprisiot."
"Ahhh," McKie said".You can listen in on his conversation, then?"
"Message content not availablCe.onnectives visible.I possess awareness that your friend exchanges communication with sentient of other species."
"What species?"
"One you label PanSpechi."
"What'd happen if you sent Furuneo to . . . his home here on Cordiality right now?" "Shattering of connectivesB. ut message exchange concludes in this linearIitys.end himT. here." "You sent him?"
"But connectives you convey."
"He's here on Cordiality right now?"
"He occupies place not his home."

"I hope we're together on that."
"Your friend," the Caleban said, "desires presence with you."
He wants to come here?"
"Correct."
"Well, why notA? ll right, bring him."
"What purpose arises from friend's presence in my home?"
"I want him to stay with you and watch for Abnethe while I attend to other business."
"McKie?"
"Yes."
"You possess awareness that presence of yourself or other of your kind prolongs impingement of myself upon your wave?"
"That's fine."
"Your presence foreshortens flogging."

"I suspected as much."
"Suspected?"
"I understand!"
"Understanding probableC. onnectives indicative."
"I can't tell you how happy that makes me," McKie said.
"You wish friend brought?"
"What's Furuneo doing?"
"Furuneo exchanges communication with . . . assistant."
"I can imagine."
McKie shook his head from side to sHidee.could sense the morass of misunderstanding around every attempt at communication hereN. o way to steer clear ofNiot. way at alAl. t the very moment when they thought they had achieved closest communication, right then they could be widest of the mark.
"When Furuneo concludes his conversation, bring him," McKie Hsaeidh.unched back against the wall. Gods of the underworldT! he heat was almost unbearablWe. hy did Calebans require such heaMt?aybe
the heat represented something else to a Caleban, a visible wave form, perhaps, serving some function other sentients couldn't begin to understand.
McKie felt then that he was engaged in an exchange of worthless noises here -- shadowReassoounnds.

had gone, swinging from planet to planHeet. and the Caleban were striking false bargains, trying to climb
out of chaosI.f they failed, death would take away all the innocent and the sinful, the good and the guilty. Boats would drift on countless oceans, towers would fall, balconies crumble, and suns would move alone across unmarked skies.
A wave of relatively cold air told McKie that Furuneo had aMrrcivKeide. turned, saw the planetary agent sprawled beside him and just beginning to sit up.
"For the love of reason!" Furuneo shou"teWd.hat're you doing to me?"
"I needed the fresh air," McKie said.
Furuneo peered at him"W.
hat?"
"Glad to see you," McKie said.
"Yeah?"Furuneo brought himself to a squatting position beside Mc"KYioe.u have any idea what's just happened to me?"
"You've been to Landy-B," McKie said.
"How'd you knowW? as that your doing?"
"Slight misunderstanding," McKie sai"dL. andy-B's your home."
"It is not!"
"I'll leave you to argue that with Fanny Mae," McKie"Hsavide. you started the search on Cordiality?"

"I barely got it going before you . . ."
"Yes, but you've started it?"
"I've started it."
"Good.Fanny Mae will keep you posted on various things and bring your people here for reports and such as you need themW. on't you, Fanny Mae?"
"Connectives remain availableC. ontract permits."
"Good girl."
"I'd almost forgotten how hot it was in here," Furuneo said, mopping his f"oSreoheIadca. n summon people. What else?"
"You watch for Abnethe."
"And?"
"The instant she and one of her Palenki floggers make an appearance, you get a holoscan record of everything that happensY. ou do have your toolkit?"
"Of course."
"Fine.While you're scanning, get your instruments as close to the jumpdoor as you can."

"She'll probably close the door as soon as she sees what I'm doing."
"Don't count on
Oit.h, one thing."
"Yes?"
"You're my teaching assistant."
"Your what?"
McKie explained about the Caleban's agreement.
"So she can't get rid of us without violating the terms of her contract with Fanny Mae," Furuneo said. "Cute." He pursed his lips".That all?"
"No.I want you and Fanny Mae to discuss connectives."
"Connectives?"
"Connectives. I want you to try finding out what in ten billion devils a Caleban means by connectives."
"Connectives," Furuneo said".Is there any way to turn down the furnace in here?"
"You might take that as another subjTecryt: to discover the reason for all this heat."

"If I don't melt firWst.here'll you be?"
"Hunting -- provided Fanny Mae and I can agree on the connectives."
"You're not making sense."
"Right.But I'll try to make tracks -- if Fanny Mae'll send me where the game is."
"Ahhh," Furuneo said".You could walk into a trap." "Maybe.Fanny Mae, have you been listening?" "Explain listening."
"Never mind!"
"But mind possesses ever!"
McKie closed his eyes, swallowed, then, "Fanny Mae, are you aware of the information exchange just concluded between my friend and myself here?"
"Explain conclu . . ."
"Are you aware?" McKie bellowed.
"Amplification contributes little to communication," the Caleban "sIaidp.ossess desired awareness -- presumably."

"Presumably," McKie muttered, then, "Can you send me to a place near Abnethe where she will not be aware of me, but where I can be aware of her?"
"Negative."
"Why not?"
"Specific injunction of contract."
"Oh."McKie bent his head in thought, then, "Well, can you send me to a place where I might become aware of Abnethe through my own efforts?"
"Possibility.Permit examination of connectives."
McKie waitedT. he heat was a tangible thing inside the Beachball, a solid intrusion on hisHseenses. saw it was already beginning to wilt Furuneo.
"I saw my mother," Furuneo said, noting McKie's attention.
"That's great," McKie said.
"She was swimming with friends when the Caleban dumped me right in the pool wTithhe thweamte.r was wonderful."
"They were surprised, no doubt."

"They thought it was a great joIkwe.ish I knew how that S'eye system works."
"You and a billion billion otheTrhs.e energy requirement gives me the chills."
"I could use a chill right nYowou.
know, that's one weird sensation -- standing one minute talking to old
friends, the next instant yakking at empty air here on CordWialhitayt. do you suppose they think?"
"They think it's magic."
"McKie," the Caleban said, "I love you."
"You what?" McKie exploded.
"Love you," the Caleban repeate"dA.ffinity of one person for another persSounc. h affinity transcends species."
"I guess so, but . . ."
"Since I possess this universal affinity for your person, connectives open, permitting accomplishment of your request."
"You can send me to a place near Abnethe?"
"Affirmative.Accord with desireY.
es."
"Where is this place?" McKie asked.

He found, with a chill wash of air and a sprawling lurch onto dusty ground, that he was addressing his question to a moss-capped rocFk.or a moment he stared at the rock, regaining his baTlahnecer.ock
was about a meter tall and contained small veins of yellow-white quartz with flecks of reflective brilliance scattered through themI.t stood in an open meadow beneath a distant yellowThseuns.un's position told
McKie he'd arrived either at midmorning or midafternoon local.
Beyond the rock, the meadow, and a ring of straggly yellow brushes stretched a flat horizon broken by the tall white spires of a city.
"Loves me?" he asked the rock.
Never underestimate the power of wishful thinking to filter what the eyes see and what the ears hear.
-The Abnethe Case, BuSab Private Files
Whip and severed Palenki arm arrived at the proper BuSab laboratory while it was temporarily unoccupied. The lab chief, a Bureau veteran named Treej Tuluk, a back-bowing Wreave, was away at the time, attending the conference which McKie's report had precipitated.

As with most back-bowers, Tuluk was an odor-id WrHeaeveh. ad an average-appearing Wreave
body, two and a half meters tall, tubular, pedal bifurcation, vertical face slit with manipulative extensors dangling from the lower corneFrr.om long association with humans and humanoids he had developed a brisk, slouching gait, a predilection for clothing with pockets, and un-Wreavish speech mannerisms of a cynical tone.The four eye tubes protruding from the top of his facial slit were green and mild.
Returning from the conference, he recognized the objects on his lab floor immeTdhiaetyelym. atched
Siker's description.Tuluk complained to himself briefly about the careless manner of delivery and was soon lost in the intricacies of examinatiHone. and the assistants he summoned made initial holoscans before separating whip and arm.
As they had expected, the Palenki gene structure offered no comparTathiveesa.rm had not come from
one of the few Palenkis on record in the ConSentient RegTiustleurk.
filed the DNA chart and message
sequence, however.These could be used to identify the arm's original owner, if that became necessary.
At the same time study of the whip went aThheeada. rtifact report came out of the computers as "Bullwhip, copy of ancient earth typeIt."was made of steerhide, a fact which gave Tuluk and his vegetarian aides a few brief moments of disgust, since they had assumed it was a synthetic.
"A sick archaism," one of Tuluk's Chither assistants called theTwhehipo.thers agreed with this
judgment, even a PanSpechi for whom periodic reversion to carnivorous type in his creche cycle was necessary to survival.
A curious alignment in some of the cell molecules attracted their attentioSntutdhyeno. f whip and arm continued at their respective paces.

There is no such thing as pure objectivity.
-Gowachin Aphorism
McKie took the long-distance call while standing beside a dirt road about three kilometers from the rock. He had come this far on foot, increasingly annoyed by the strange surrouTndhiengcsi.ty, he had
soon discovered, was a mirage hanging over a dusty plain of tall grass and scrubby thornbushes.
It was almost as hot on the plain as it had been in the Caleban's Beachball.
Thus far the only living things he had seen were some distant tawny animals and countless
insects-leapers, crawlers, fliers, hoppersT. he road contained two parallel indentations and was the rusty red color of abandoned iroInt. seemed to originate in a faraway line of blue hills on his right, plunging straight across the plain to the heat-muddled horizon on hisThle tr.oad contained no occupant except himself, not even a dust cloud to mark some hidden passage.
McKie was almost glad to feel the sniggertrance grip him.
"This is Tuluk, " his caller s"aIidw. as told to contact you as soon as I had anything toHroeppeofrutl.ly, I intrude at an opportune mome"nt.
McKie, who had a journeyman's respect for Tuluk's competence, said, "Let's have it."
"Not much on the arm," Tuluk s"aPida.lenki, of courseW.
e can identify the original owner, if we ever
get him.There'd been at least one previous regrowth of this memSwbeorr.d cut on the forearm, by the look of it."

"What about the phylum markings?"
"We're still checking that."
"The whip?"
"That's something elseI.t's real steerhide."
"Real?"
"No doubt of anywhere."
Wit. e could identify the original owner of the skin, although I doubt it's walking around
"You've a gruesome sense of humWorh. at else?"
"The whip's an archaism, toBou. llwhip, ancient earth styleW. e got an original ID by computer and
brought in a museum expert for confirmatiHone. thought the construction was a bit on the crude side, but close enough to leave little doubt it was a copy of a real oFraigirilnyalr.ecent manufacture, too."
"Where could they get an original to copy?"
"We're checking that, and it may provide a Tlehaeds.e things aren't too common."
"Recent manufacture," McKie sai"dY. ou sure?"
"The animal from which that hide was removed has been dead about two standaIrndtrayceealrlsu.lar structure was still reactive to catalyzing."

"Two yearsW.
here would they get a real steer?"
"That narrows it dowTn.here are some around for story props in the various entertainment media, that
sort of thingA.
few of the outback planets where they haven't the technology for pseudoflesh still raise
cattle for food."
"This thing gets more confusing the deeper we go into it," McKie said.
"That's what we thinOk.h, there's chalf dust on the wh"ip.
"Chaff!That's where I got the yeast smell!"
"Yes, it's still quite strong."
"What would they be doing with that much quick-scribe powder?" McKie "aTshkeerde. was no sign of a chalfmemory stick -- but that means little, of course."
"It's just a suggestion," Tuluk said, "but they couldn've chaff-scribed that design on the Palenki."
"Why?"
"Give it a false phylum, maybe?"
"Perhaps."
"If you smelled chalf after the whip came through, there'd have to be quite a bit ofYoituatrhoouungdh. t of that?"

"The room wasn't all that big, and it was hot."
"The heat would explain it, all riSgohrt.ry we didn't have more for you."
"That's all?"
"Well, it might not be any use, but the whip had been stored in a hanging position supported by a thin length of steel".
"Steel?Are you positive?"
"Positive."
"Who still uses steel?"
"It's not all that uncommon on some of the newer pRla&neRts.has even turned up some where they build with it."
"Wild!"
"Isn't it, though?"
"You know," McKie said, "We're looking for an outback planet, and that's where I seem to be."
"Where are you?"

"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
McKie explained his predicament.
"You field agents take awful chances sometimes," Tuluk said.
"Don't we just."
"You wear a monitoIr.could ask this Taprisiot to identify your locaWtioann.t to invoke the monitor clause?"
"You know that's an open payment clause," McKie "sIaiddo.n't think this is a sufficient emergency yet that I can risk bankrupting uLse.t me see if I can identify this place by other means first."
"What do you want me to do, then?"
"Call FuruneoH. ave him allow me another six hours, then get the Caleban to pick me up."
"Pick you up, righSt.iker said you were onto some doorless S'eye thCinagn. it pick you up anywhere?"
"I think so."
"I'll call Furuneo right away."

Facts can be whatever you want them toThbise. is the lesson of relativity.
-BuSab Manual
McKie had been walking for almost two hours before he saw the Tshminoksep.irals of it stood in the air against the backdrop of distant blue hills.
It had occurred to McKie during his walk that he might have been set down in a place where he could die of thirst or starvation before his legs carried him to the safe companionship of his civilizeAd fellows.
self-accusatory moroseness had overtaken himIt. wasn't the first time he had realized that some accident of the machinery he took for granted might prove fatal.
But the machinery of his own miHnde?cursed himself for using the Caleban's S'eye system this way when he knew the unreliability of communication with the creature.
Walking!
You never thought you might have to walk to safety.

McKie sensed the eternal flaw in sentient relationship with machRineelriayn. ce on such forces put your own muscles at a disadvantage in a universe where you might have to rely on those muscles at any moment.
Such as right now.
He appeared to be getting nearer to the smoke, although the hills looked as remote as ever.
Walking.
Of all the stupid damn foul-uWpsh. y would Abnethe pick a place like this to start her kinky little game? If this were the place it had starItfedt.he Caleban hadn't made another communication error.
If love could find a wWayh. at the devil did love have to do with all this?
McKie plodded on, wishing he had brought some wFairtestr. the heat of the Beachball, now tHhis. throat felt as though he'd built a fire Tinheit.dust kicked up by his feet didn't hEevlper.y step stirred up a puff of pale red from the narrow trTahcke. dust clogged his throat and nostrIitls.had a musty taste.
He patted the toolkit in his jacket pocTkheet. raygen could burn a thin hole in this parched earth, might even strike down to wateBr.ut how could he bring the water up to his demanding throat?
Plenty of insects arounTd.hey buzzed and flew about, crawled at the edge of the track, attempted at times to alight on his exposed fleHshe. finally took to carrying his toolkit's stim like a fan, setting it at medium potency.It cleared the air around his face whenever a swarm approached, dropped jittering patches of stunned insects behind him.
He grew aware of a noise -- low, indistinct booSmoimnge.thing being poundedS. omething hollow and resonant. It originated out there in the distance where the smoke stood on the air.

It could be a natural phenomenon, McKie told himCsoeulfl.d be wild creatures.The smoke might be
natural fires.Still, he brought the raygen from his kit, kept it in a side pocket where he could get at it quickly.
The noise became louder in slow stages, as though it were being amplified to mark consecutive positions of his approachS. creens of thornbush and gentle undulations in the plain concealed the source.
McKie trudged up a gentle rise, still following the road.
Sadness transfixed himH. e'd been cast away on some poverty-stricken backyard world, a place that stiffened the eyesH. e'd been given a role in a story with a moral, a clipped-wing fairHyestworays. a
burned-out wanderer, his thirst a burnished yearniAngn.guish had lodged in him somewheHree.
pursued
an estranged, plodding dream which would dissolve in the awakening doom of a single Caleban.
The toll that Caleban's death would bring oppressed Iht imtur.ned his ego upside down and drained out all the lightnessH. is own death would be a lost bubble burst in such a conflagration.
McKie shook his head to drive away such thouFgehatrs. would pluck him of all sensibilHitye. could not afford it.
One thing sure now; the sun was setIttinhga. d descended at least two widths toward the horizon since he'd started this stupid trek.
What in the name of the infinite devils was that drumImt icnagm?e at him as though riding the heat: monotonous, insistent.He felt his temples throbbing to an irritating, counterpoint -- beat, throb, beat, throb. . . .
McKie topped the low rise, stoppHede. stood at the brim of a shallow basin which had been cleared of the thornbush.At the basin's center, a thorn fence enclosed twenty or so conical huts with grass roofs. They appeared to be made of mSumd.oke spiraled from holes in several of the roofs and from pit fires outside others.Black dots of cattle grazed in the basin, lifting their heads occasionally, with stubby whiskers of brown grass protruding from their mouths.

Black-skinned youths carrying long poles watched the caMttloer.e black-skinned men, women, and children went about various occupations within the thorn enclosure.
McKie, whose ancestry contained blacks from the planet Caoleh, found the, scene curiously disturbing. It touched a genetic memory that vibrated to a wrong rhWythhmer.e in the universe could people be
degraded to such primitive living standardTs?he basin was like a textbook scene from the dark ages of ancient Earth.
Most of the children were naked, as were some of theThme ewn.omen wore string skirts.
Could this be some odd return to nature? McKie wondTehredn. udity didn't bother him particularIlty. was the combination.
The narrow track led down into the basin and through the thorn fence, extending out the other side to disappear over the crest of the opposite side.
McKie began the descenHt.e hoped they'd let him have water in this village.
The booming noise came from within a large hut near the center of theA ctlwusote-wr.heeled cart with four great two-horned beasts yoked to it waited beside the hut.
McKie studied the cart as he approachBeedt.ween its high sidewalls were piled jumbles of strange artifacts -- flat, boardlike things, rolls of garish fabric, long poles with sharp metal tips.
The drumming stopped, and McKie noted that he had beenCsheilednr.en ran screaming among the huts, pointing at himA. dults turned with slow dignity, studied him.
An odd silence settled over the scene.

McKie entered the village through a break in the thorn Efemnoctei.onless black faces turned to observe
his progress.The place assaulted McKie's nostrils -- rotting flesh, dung, acrid stenches whose character he didn't care to explore, woodsmoke and burning meat.
Clouds of black insects swarmed about the beasts yoked to the cart, seeming to ignore the slow switching of their tails.
A red-bearded white man emerged from the larger hut as McKie approTahcehemd.an wore a
flat-brimmed hat, dusty black jacket, and dun paHntes. carried a whip of the same pattern the Palenki had used.Seeing the whip, McKie knew he had come to the right place.
The man waited in the doorway, a mean-eyed, menacing figure, thin lips visible through tHhee beard. glanced once at McKie, nodded at several of the black men off to McKie's left, motioned toward the cart, returned his attention to McKie.
Two tall black men moved to stand at the heads of the yoked beasts.
McKie studied the contents of the cTahrte.
boardlike objects, he saw, had been carved and painted
with strange designsT. hey reminded him of Palenki carapacHese.
didn't like the way the two men at the
heads of the yoked beasts stared at hTimhe.re was danger hereM. cKie kept his right hand in his jacket
pocket, curled around the raygen tubHee. back felt exposed and vulnerable.
felt and saw the black residents closing in behindHhisim.
"I am Jorj X. McKie, Saboteur Extraordinary," he said, stopping about ten paces from the bearded white man."And you?"
The man spat in the dust, said something that sounded"Gleiktnea:bent."
McKie swallowedH.
e didn't recognize the greetinSgtrange, he thoughtH.
e hadn't believed the
ConSentiency contained a language completely unfamiliar to hPiemrh. aps R&R had come up with a new planet here.
"I am on an official mission of the Bureau," McKie"Lseatida.ll men know thisT."here, that satisfied the

legalities.
The bearded man shrugged, said, "Kawderwelsh."
Someone behind McKie sai"dK: rawl'ikido!"
The bearded man glanced in the direction of the voice, back to McKie.
McKie shifted his attention to the wThihpe.
man trailed the end of it behind him on the gSroeueinndg.
McKie's attention, he flicked a wrist, caught the flexible end of the whip in two fingers which he lifted
from the handleH.
e continued to stare at McKie.
There was a casual proficiency in the way the man handled the whip that sent a shudder through McKie. "Where'd you get that whip?" he asked.
The man looked at the object in his h"Panitdsc. h," he said". Brawzhenbuller."
McKie moved closer, held out a hand for the whip.
The bearded man shook his head from side to side, scoNwolemd.istaking that answer".Maykely," he
said. He tapped the butt of the whip handle against the side of the cart, nodded at the piled cargo.
Once more, McKie studied the contents of the Hcanrtd.made artifacts, no doubt of Tith.ere could be
a big profit in esoteric and decorative objects, he kTnheews.e could be artifacts that curried to the buyer
boredom brought on by the endless, practical, serial duplications from automatic facItfortiheesy.
were
manufactured in this village, though, the whole operation looked to be a slave-laboOr rthsinergf.dom, which was the same thing for all practical purposes.
Abnethe's game might have sicker overtones, but it had more understandable motives.

"Where's Mliss Abnethe?h"e asked.
That brought a responsTe.he bearded man jerked his head up, glared at McTKheie.surrounding mob emitted an unintelligible cry.
"Abnethe?" McKie asked.
"Seeawss Abnethe!" the bearded man said.
The crowd around them began chanti"nEgp: ah Abnethe!Epah Abnethe!Epah Abnethe!"
"Rooik!" the bearded man shouted.
The chant stopped abruptly.
"What is the name of this planet?" McKie aHskeedg.lanced around at the staring black fa"cWes.here is this place?"
No one answered.
McKie locked eyes with the bearded mTahne.
other returned his stare in a predatory, measuring
manner, nodded once, as though he'd come to some conclu"sDioene.spawng!" he said.
McKie frowned, swore under his breaTthis damned case presented communication difficulties at
every turn!No matter.He'd seen enough here to demand a full-scale investigation by a police agency. You didn't keep humans in this primitive stAatben. ethe must be behind this placTeh.e whip, the reaction
to her nameT. he village smelled of Abnethe's sickneMss.cKie observed some of the people across from him, saw scars on their arms and cheWstsh.ip scars?If they were, Abnethe's money wouldn't save her. She might get off with another reconditioning, but this time there'd be a more thorough . . .

Something exploded against the back of McKie's neck, knocking him foTrwheardb.earded man raised the whip handle, and McKie saw the thing rushing toward hisHheeafde.lt a giant, coughing darkness lurch across his mind as the thing crashed against the side of hiHs ehetraide.d to bring the raygen out of
his pocket, but his muscles disobeyeHde. was a bloody haze.
felt his body become a limping, horrified stagHgiesr.vision
Again something exploded against his head.
McKie sank into nightmare oblivioAns.
he sank, he thought of the monitor in his Isfktuhlel.y had killed
him, a Taprisiot somewhere would jerk to attention and send in a final report on one Jorj X. McKie.
A lot of good that'll do me! the darkness said.
Where is the weapon with which I enforce your bonYdaogue?give it to me every time you open your mouth.
-Laclac Riddle

There was a moon, McKie realizTedh.at glowing thing directly in front of him had to be aTmheoon. realization told him he'd been seeing the moon for some time, puzzling over it without being fully awake. The moon had lifted itself out of blackness above a paralyzed outline of primitive roofs.
He was still in the village, then.
The moon dangled there, incredibly close.
The back and left side of McKie's head began throbbing paiHnfeulleyx.plored his bruised senses,
realized he had been staked out in the open flat on his back, wrists and ankles tightly bound, his face pointed at the sky.
Perhaps it was another village.
He tested the security of his bindings, couldn't loosen them.
It was an undignified positiofnla:t on his back, legs spread, arms outstretched.
For a time, he watched the changing guard of strange constellations move across his field of vision. Where was this place?
Firelight blazed up somewhere off to his Itlefl.ickered, sank back to orange glooMmc.Kie tried to turn his head toward it, froze as pain stabbed upward from his neck through his skull.
He groaned.
Off in the darkness an animal screamTehde.
scream was followed by a hoarse, grunting
Sroilaern. ce.
Then another roarT. he sounds creased the night for McKie, bent it into new dimenHseionhse.ard soft footsteps approaching.

"I think he groaned," a man said.
The man was speaking standard Galach, McKie noTtwedo. over McKie's feet.
shadows came out of the night and stood
"Do you think he's awakeI?t"was a female voice masked by a storter.
"He's breathing as though he's awake," the man said.
"Who's there?" McKie raspeHd.is own voice sent agony pinwheeling through his skull.
"Good thing your people know how to obey instructions," the ma"nImsagidin. e him running loose around here!"
"How did you get here, McKie?" the woman asked.
"I walked," McKie growle"dI.s that you, Abnethe?"
"He walked!" the man snarled.
McKie, listening to that male voice, began to wonder abTouhtereit. was a trace of alien sibilance in it. Was it human or humanoidA?mong the sentients only a PanSpechi could look that human -- because they had shaped their flesh to the human pattern.
"Unless you release me," McKie said, "I won't answer for the consequences."
"You'll answer for them," the man sTaihde.re was laughter in his voice.

"We must be sure how he got here," the woman said.
"What difference does it make?"
"It could make a great deal of differeWnchea.t if Fanny Mae is breaking her contract?"
"That's impossible!" the man snorted.
"Nothing's impossibleH. e couldn't have got here without Caleban help."
"Maybe there's another Caleban."
"Fanny Mae says not."
"I say we do away with this intruder immediately," the man said.
"What if he's wearing a monitor?" she asked.
"Fanny Mae says no Taprisiot can locate this place!"
"But McKie is here!"
"And I've had one long-distance call since I arrived," McKieNosaiTda. prisiot can locate this place? he wondered. What would prompt that statement?

"They won't have time to find us or do anything about it," the m"Iansasyaidw.e do away with him."
"That wouldn't be very intelligent," McKie said.
"Look who's talking about intelligence," the man said.
McKie strained to discern details of faces, but they remained blank shWadhoawts.was it about that male voice?The storter disguised the woman's voice, but why would she bother?
"I am fitted with a life monitor," McKie said.
"The sooner, the better," the man said.
"I've stood as much of that as I can," the woman said.
"Kill me, and that monitor starts transmitting," McKie "sTaaidp.risiots will scan this area and identify everyone around meE. ven if they can't locate you, they'll know you."
"I shudder at the prospect," the man said.
"We must find out how he got here," the woman said.
"What difference does it make?"
"That's a stupid question!"

"So the Caleban broke her contract."
"Or there's a loophole in it we don't know about."
"Well, plug it up."
"I don't know if we cSaonm. connectives?"
etimes I wonder how much we really understand each oWthhear.t are
"Abnethe, why're you wearing that storter?" McKie asked.
"Why do you call me Abnethe?" she asked.
"You can disguise your voice, but you can't hide your sickness or your style," McKie said.
"Did Fanny Mae send you here?" she demanded.
"Didn't somebody say that was impossible?" McKie countered.
"He's a brave one," the woman chuckled.
"Lot of good it does him."
"I don't think the Caleban could break our contract," she"Ysoaiud.recall the protection clauseIt?'s likely she sent him here to get rid of him."
"So let's get rid of him."

"That's not what I meant!"
"You know we have to do it."
"You're making him suffer, and I won't have it!" the woman cried.
"Then go away and leave it to me."
"I can't stand the thought of him sufferDinogn!'t you understand?"
"He won't suffer."
"You have to be sure."
It's Abnethe for certain, McKie thought, recalling her conditioning against witnessingBuptaiwn.ho's the other one?
"My head's hurting," McKie sa"idY.ou know that, MlissY? our men practically beat my brains out."
"What brains?" the man asked.
"We must get him to a doctor," she said.
"Be sensible!" the man snapped.

"You heard himH. is head hurts."
"Mliss, stop it!"
"You used my name," she said.
"What difference does it makHe?e'd already recognized you."
"What if he escapes?"
"From here?"
"He got here, didn't he?"
"For which we can be thankful!"
"He's suffering," she said.
"He's lying!"
"He's sufferingI.
can tell."
"What if we take him to a doctor, Mliss?" the man asked, "What if we do that and BheuSeasbcapes?
agents are resourceful, you know."
Silence.

"There's no way out of it," the man "sFaaidn.ny Mae sent him to us, and we have to kill him."
"You're trying to drive me crazy!" she screamed.
"He won't suffer," the man said.
Silence.
"I promise," the man said.
"For sure?"
"Didn't I say it?"
"I'm leaving here," she sa"idI . don't want to know what happens to again, Cheo.Do you hear me?"
"Yes, my dear, I hear you."
"I'm leaving now," she said.
Yhiomu.'re never to mention him
"He's going to cut me into little pieces," McKie said, "and I'll scream with pain the whole time."
"Shut him up!" she screeched.

"Come away, my dear," the man sHaied. put an arm around h"eCr.ome along, now."
Desperately, McKie said, "AbnethHe!e's going to cause me intense paYino.u know that."
She began sobbing as the man led her a"wPaleya.se . . . please . . ." she begTgheed.sound of her crying faded into the night.
Furuneo, McKie thought, don't dalGlye. t that Caleban movingI. want out of herNe.ow!
He strained against his bindingTsh.ey stretched just enough to tell him he'd reached their lHimeits. couldn't feel the stakes move at all.
Come on, CalebanM! cKie thought.You didn't send me here to dYieo.u said you loved me.
It is because you speak to me that I do not believe in you.
-Quoted from a Caleban

After several hours of questioning, counter-questioning, probe, counter-probe, and bootless answers, Furuneo brought in an enforcer assistant to take over the watch on the CAatlebFaunru. neo's request
Fanny Mae opened a portal and let him out onto the lava ledge for a spell ofIt frwesahs caoirl.d out on
the shelf, especially after the heat in the BeachTbhalel. wind had died down, as it did most days here just before night.Surf still pounded the outer rocks and surged against the lava wall beyond the Beachball. But the tide was going out, and only a few dollops of spray wet the ledge.
Connectives, Furuneo thought bitterlSy.he says it's not a linkage, so what iHs eit?couldn't recall ever having felt this frustrated.
"That which extends from one to eight," the Caleban had said, "that is a coCnnoerrceticvte.use of verb to be?"
"Huh?"
"Identity verb," the Caleban sa"idS.trange concept." "No, no!What did you mean there, one to eight?" "Unbinding stuff," the Caleban said.
"You mean like a solvent?"
"Before solvent."
"What the devil could before have to do with solvents?"

"Perhaps more internal than solvents," the Caleban said. "Madness," Furuneo said, shaking his heTadh.en, "Internal?" "Unbounded place of connectives," the Caleban said.
"We're right back where we started," Furuneo groa"nWedh.at's a connective?"
"Uncontained opening between," the Caleban said.
"Between what?" Furuneo roared.
"Between one and eight."
"Ohhh, no!"
"Also between one and x," the Caleban said.
As McKie had done earlier, Furuneo buried his face in his Phraensednst.ly he said, "What's between one and eight except two, three, four, five, six, and seven?"
"Infinity," the Caleban sai"dO. pen-ended concept.Nothing contains everythingE. verything contains nothing."
"You know what I think?" Furuneo asked.
"I read no thoughts," the Caleban said.

"I think you're having your little game with us," Furuneo"Tshaaidt's.
what I think."
"Connectives compel," the Caleban sa"idD.oes this expand understanding?"
"Compels . . . a compulsion?"
"Venture movement," the Caleban said.
"Venture what?"
"That which remains stationary when all else moves," the Caleban"Tshauids,. concept empties itself without connective."
"Whoooooheee!" Furuneo said.
At this point he asked to be let outside for a rest.
connective.Infinity
Furuneo was no closer to understanding why the Caleban maintained such a high temperature in the
Beachball.
"Consequences of swiftness," the Caleban said, varying this under questioning with "Rapidity convergence." Or "Perhaps concept of generated movement arrives closer."
"Some kind of friction?" Furuneo probed.
"Uncompensated relationship of dimensions possibly arrives at closest approximation," the Caleban

answered.
Now, reviewing these frustrating exchanges, Furuneo blew on his hands to warmThtehesmu.n had set, and a chill wind was beginning to move off the bluff toward the water.
Either I freeze to death or bake, he thoWughhet.re in the universe is McKie?
At this point Tuluk made long distance contact through one of the Bureau TaFpurriusinoetso., who had been seeking a more sheltered position in the lee of the Beachball, felt the pinealHigenbitriou.ght
down the foot he had been lifting in a step, planted the foot firmly in a shallow pool of water, and lost all bodily sensation.Mind and call were one.
"This is Tuluk at the lab," the caller "sAapido.logies for intrusion and all that."
"I think you just made me put a foot in cold water," Furuneo said.
"Well, here's some more cold water for Yyoouu.'re to have that friendly Caleban pick up McKie in six hours, time elapse measured from four hours and fifty-one minutesSyangcoh.ronize."
"Standard measure?" "Of course, standard!" "Where is he?"
"He doesn't knowW. herever that Caleban sent himA.ny idea how it's done?"
"It's done with connectives," Furuneo said.

"Is that rightW? hat are connectives?"
"When I find out, you'll be the first to know."
"That sounds like a temporal contradiction, Furuneo."
"Probably isA. ll right, let me get my foot out of the wIt'asteprr.obably frozen solid by now."
"You've the synchronized time coordinate for picking up McKie?"
"I got itA! nd I hope she doesn't send him home."
"How's that?" Furuneo explained. "Sounds confusing."
"I'm glad you figured that oFuotr. sufficient seriousness."
a moment there, I thought you weren't approaching our problem with
Among Wreaves seriousness and sincerity are almost as basic as they are with Taprisiots, but Tuluk had worked among humans long enough to recognize the "jWibee.ll, every being has its own insanity," he
said.
It was a Wreave aphorism, but it sounded sufficiently close to something the Caleban might have said that Furuneo experienced a momentary angeret-enforced rage and sensed his ego shimmering away from

him. He shuddered his way back to mental solidity.
"Did you almost lose yourself?" Tuluk asked.
"Will you sign off and let me get my foot out of the water?"
"I receive the impression you are fatigued," Tuluk "sGaiedt. some rest."
"When I canI. hope I don't fall asleep in the Caleban hothIo'dusew. ake up done just about right for a cannibal dinner."
"Sometimes you humans express yourselves in a disgusting fashion," the Wreav"eBusatidy.ou'd better remain alert for a whilMe.cKie may require punctuality."
He was the kind of man who created his own death.
-Epitaph for Alichino Furuneo

It was dark, but she needed no light for black thoDuagmhtns. Cheo for a sadistic fooItl!had been a mistake to finance the surgery that had transformed the PanSpechi into an ego-frozenWfhryeak. couldn't he stay the way he'd been when they'd firstSmo eet?xotic . . . so . . . so . . . exciting.
He was still useful, thougAhn. d there was no doubt he'd been the first to see the magnificent possibilities in their discoveryT. hat, at least, remained exciting.
She reclined on a softly furred chairdog, one of the rare feline adaptives that had been taught to lull their masters by purringT. he soothing vibrations moved through her flesh as though seeking out irritations to subdue. So relaxing.
She sighed.
Her apartment occupied the top ring of the tower they had had built on this world, safe in the knowledge that their hiding place lay beyond the reach of any law or any communication except that granted through
a single Caleban -- who had but a short time to live.
But how had McKie come heAren?d what had McKie meant, that he'd had a call through a Taprisiot?
The chairdog, sensitive to her mood, stopped purring as Abnethe another Caleban remain who could find this place?
HsaatdupF.anny Mae liedD? id
Granted that the Caleban's words were difficult to understand -- granted this, yes, there was yet no mistaking the essentialsT. his world was a place whose key lay in only one mind, that of Madame Mliss Abnethe.
She sat straight on the chairdog.
And there would be death without suffering to make this place forever safe -- a giant orgasm of death.
Only one door, and death would closeThite.
survivors, all chosen by herself, would live on in happiness

here beyond all . . . connectives . . .
Whatever those were.
She stood up, began pacing back and forth in the darTkhnessr.ug, a creature adapted like the chairdog, squirmed its furry surface at the caress of her feet.
An amused smile came over her face.
Despite the complications and the strange timing it required, they'd have to increase the tempo of the floggings. Fanny Mae must be forced to discontinue as soon as posTsoiblkei.ll without suffering among
the victims, this was a prospect she found she could still contemplate.
But there was need for hurry.
Furuneo leaned, half dozing, against a wall within the BeacShlbeaelpl.ily he cursed the heaHt.is
mindclock said there was slightly less than an hour remaining until the time for picking up McKie. Furuneo had tried to explain the time schedule to the Caleban, but she persisted in misunderstanding.
"Lengths extend and distend," she had s"aTidh.ey warp and sift with vague movements between one and another.Thus time remains inconstant."
Inconstant?
The vortal tube of a S'eye jumpdoor snapped open just beyond the Caleban's gianTt hsepofaocne. bare shoulders of Abnethe appeared in the opening.
and
Furuneo pushed himself away from the wall, shook his head to restore alDeratmnensast.ion, it was hot in here!

"You are Alichino Furuneo," Abnethe sa"iDd.o you know me?"
"I know you."
"I recognized you at once," she s"aIidk. now most of your stupid Bureau's planetary agents by Is'vigeht. found it profitable".
"Are you here to flog this poor CalebFanu?ru"neo asked.He felt for the holoscan in his pocket, moved into a position for a rush toward the jumpdoor as McKie had ordered.
"Don't make me close this door before we've had a little discussion," she said.
Furuneo hesitatedH.
e was no Saboteur Extraordinary, but you didn't get to be a planetary agent without
recognizing when to disobey a senior agent's orders.
"What's to discuss?" he asked.
"Your future," she said.
Furuneo stared up into her eyTehs.e emptiness of them appalled hiTmh.is woman was ridden by a compulsion.
"My future?" he asked.
"Whether you're to have any future," she said.
"Don't threaten me," he said.

"Cheo tells me," she said, "that you're a possibility for our project."
For no reason he could explain, Furuneo knew this to bOe dad liheo.w she gave herself awaHye. r lips trembled when she said that name -- Cheo.
"Who's Cheo?"he asked.
"That's unimportant at the moment." "What's your project, then?" "Survival."
"That's nice," he sai"dW.
hat else is new?H" e wondered what she would do if he brought out the
holoscan and started recording.
"Did Fanny Mae send McKie hunting for me?" she asked.
That question was important to her, Furuneo
MsawcK. ie must have stirred up merry hob.
"You've seen McKie?" he asked.
"I refuse to discuss McKie," she said.
It was an insane response, Furuneo thouSghet.'d been the one to bring McKie into the conversation.

Abnethe pursed her lips, studied h"imA.re you married, Alichino Furuneo?" she asked.
He frownedH.
er lips had trembled agaiSnu. rely she knew his marital statuIfs.it was valuable for her to
recognize him, it was thrice valuable to know his strengths and weaknWeshsaets.was her game?
"My wife is dead," he said.
"How sad," she murmured.
"I get along," he said, ang"rYy.ou can't live in the past. "Ahhh, that is where you may be wrong," she said. "What're you driving at, Abnethe?"
"Let's see," she said, "your age -- sixty-seven standard, if I recall correctly."
"You recall correctly, as you damn well know."
"You're young," she sai"dY. ou look even youngerI.'d guess you're a vital person who enjoys life."
"Don't we all?" he asked.
It was going to be a bribe offer, then, he thought.
"We enjoy life when we have the proper ingredients," she"Hsoaiwd. odd it is to find a person such as

yourself in that stupid Bureau."
This was close enough to a thought Furuneo had occasionally nurtured for himself that he began wondering about this Cheo and the mysterious project with its possibWilithieast. were they offering?
They studied each other for a momIetntw. as the weighted assessment of two contestants about to enter a competition.
Would she offer herselFf?uruneo wondered.She was an attractive femalgee: nerous mouth, large green
eyes, a pleasant oval facHe.e'd seen the holoscans of her figure -- the Beautybarbers had done well by her. She'd maintained herself with all the expensive care her money couldBubtuyw.ould she offer
herself to him?He found this difficult to contemplaMte.otives and stakes didn't fit.
"What're you afraid of?" he asked.
It was a good opening attack, but she answered him with a peculiar note of "sSiunfcferinyg:."
Furuneo tried to swallow in a dry thHroeat.hadn't been celibate since Mada's death, but that had been a special kind of marriagIet. had gone beyond words and bodiIefs.anything remained solid and basic, connective, in the universe, their kind of love Hdeid.had but to close his eyes to feel the
memory-presence of herN.
othing could replace that, and Abnethe must knowSheit. couldn't offer him
anything unobtainable elsewhere.
Or could she?
"Fanny Mae," Abnethe said, "are you prepared to honor the request I made?"
"Connective appropriate," the Caleban said.
"Connectives!" Furuneo exploded".What are connectives?"

"I don't really know," Abnethe said, "but apparently I can exploit them without knowing."
"What're you cooking up?" Furuneo demandHede. wondered why his skin felt suddenly chilled in spite of the heat.
"Fanny Mae, show him," Abnethe said.
The jumpdoor's vortal tube flickered open, closed, danced and shimmAebrerudp. tly, Abnethe no longer
was visible in iTt.he door stood open once more, looking down now onto a sunny jungle shore, a softly heaving ocean surface, an oval stabo-yacht hanging in stasis above a clearing and a sandTyhebeach.
yacht's afterdeck shields lay open to the sun, exposing almost in the center of the deck a young woman stretched out in repose, facedown on a floater hammHocekr . body was drinking the rays of a tuned sun filter.
Furuneo stared, unable to movTeh.e young woman lifted her head, stared out to sea, lay back.
Abnethe's voice came from directly over his head, another jumpdoor obviously, but he couldn't take his gaze from that well-remembered scen"eY. ou recognize this?" she asked.
"It's Mada," he whispered.
"Precisely."
"Oh, my god," he whispere"dW. hen did you scan that?"
"It is your beloved, you're sure?" Abnethe asked.
"It's . . . it's our honeymoon," he whisp"eIreedv.en know the daFy.riends took me to visit the seadome, but she didn't enjoy swimming and stayed behind."

"How do you know the actual day?"
"The flambok tree at the edge of the cleaIrtinbgl:oomed that day, and I missedSeiet. the umbrella flower?"
"Oh, yesT. hen you've no doubt about the authenticity of this scene?"
"So you had your snoopers staring at us even then?" he rasped.
"Not snoopersW.
e are the snoopersT. his is now.
"It can't beT! hat was almost forty years ago!" "Keep your voice down, or she'll hear you." "How can she hear mSeh?e's been dead for . . ." "This is now, I tell yFouan! ny Mae?"
"In person of Furuneo, concept of now contains relative connectives," the Caleba"nNoswainde. ss of scene true."
Furuneo shook his head from side to side.
"We can pluck her from that yacht and take both of you to a place the Bureau will never find," Abnethe said. "What do you think of that, Furuneo?"

Furuneo wiped tears from his cheeHkse. was aware of the sea's ozone smell, the pungency of the flambok blossom.It had to be a recording, thouHgha.d to be.
"If it's now, why hasn't she seen us?" he asked.
"At my direction Fanny Mae masks us from her Ssoiguhntd. , however, will carryK. eep your voice down."
"You're lying!" he hissed.
As though at a signal, the young woman rolled over, stood up, and admired the Sfhlaembbeogka.n humming a song familiar to Furuneo.
"I think you know I'm not lying," Abnethe "sTahidis. the Calebans."
"But . . . how can . . ."
is our secret, FuruneTo.his is our discovery about
"Given the proper connectives, whatever they are, even the past is opeOn ntloy uFsa.nny Mae of all
the Calebans remains to link us with this can go there and free ourselves forever."
"This is a trick!" he said.
Npaost.Taprisiot, no Bureau, nothing can reach us thWeree.
"You can see it isnS'tm. ell that flower, the sea."
"But why . . . what do you want?"

"Your assistance in a small matter, Furun"eo.
"How?"
"We fear someone will stumble on our secret before we're Irfe,ahdoyw. trusts is here to watch and report -- giving a false report . . ."
"What false report?"
ever, someone the Bureau
"That there've been no more floggings, that Fanny Mae is happy, that . . ."
"Why should I do that?"
"When Fanny Mae reaches her . . . ultimate discontinuity, we can be far away and safe -- you with your beloved. Correct, Fanny Mae?"
"Truthful essence in statement," the Caleban said.
Furuneo stared through the jumpdooMr.ada! She was right thereS.he had stopped humming and was coating her body with a skin-protectivIfe. the Caleban moved the door a little closer, he knew he'd be able to reach out and touch his beloved.
Pain in Furuneo's chest made him aware of a constrictionTtherep.ast!
"Am . . . I down there somewhere?" he asked.
"Yes," Abnethe said.

"And I'll come back to the yacht?" "If that's what you did originally." "What would I find, though?"
"Your bride gone, disappeared."
"But . . ."
"It would be thought that some creature of the sea or the jungle kiPlleerdhahpesr.she went swimming and . . ."
"She lived thirty-one years after that," he whispered.
"And you can have those thirty-one years all over again," Abnethe said.
"I . . . I wouldn't be the sSahmee'd.
. . ."
"She'd know you."
Would she really? he wonderePde.rhaps -- yesY.
es, she'd know himS.he might even come to
understand the need behind such a decisiBonu.t he saw quite clearly that she'd never forgive Nhoimt . Mada.
"With proper care she might not have to die in thirty-one years," Abnethe said.

Furuneo nodded, but it was a gesture only for himself.
She wouldn't forgive him any more than the young man returning to an empty yacht could forgive him. And that young man had not died.
I couldn't forgive myself, he thougThht.e young man I was would never forgive me all those lovely lost years.
"If you're worried," Abnethe said, "about changing the universe or the course of history or any such nonsense, forget itT. hat's not how it works, Fanny Mae tells Ymoeu. change a single, isolated situation,
no more.The new situation goes off about its business, and everything else remains pretty much the same."
"I see."
"Do you agree to our bargain?" Abnethe asked.
"What?"
"Shall I have Fanny Mae pick her up for you?"
"Why bother?" he aske"dI. can't agree to such a thing."
"You're joking!"
He turned, stared up at her, saw that she had a small jumpdoor open almost directly oveOr nhlyis head. her eyes, nose, and mouth could be seen through the opening.

"I am not joking."
Part of her hand became visible as she lifted it, pointed toward the oth"eLroodkoodr.own there at what you're rejectingL. ook, I say!Can you honestly tell me you don't want that back?"
He turned.
Mada had gone back to the hammock, snuggled face-down against a Fpuilrluonwe.o recalled that he'd found her like that when he'd returned from the seadome.
"You're not offering me anything," he said.
"But I amI!t's true, everything I've told you!"
"You're a fool," he said, "if you can't see the difference between what Mada and I had and what you offer. I pity . . ."
Something fiercely compressive gripped his throat, choked off his wFourrdusn.eo's hands groped in empty air as he was lifted up . . . uHpe .fe.lt. his head go through jumpdoor resistanHcies. neck was precisely within the boundary juncture when the door was clHosiesdb. ody fell back into the Beachball.

Body jargon and hormone squirts, these begin to get at communication.
-Culture Lag, an unpublished work by Jorj X. McKie
"You fool, Mliss!" Cheo rage"dY.ou utter, complete, senseless fooIlf! I hadn't come back when I . . ."
"You killed him!" she rasped, backing away from the bloody head on the floor of her sit"tYinoguroom.
. . . you killed himA!nd just when I'd almost . . ."
"When you'd almost ruined everything," Cheo snarled, thrusting his scarred face close"Wtohahterd. o you humans use for brains?"
"But he'd . . ."
"He was ready to call his helpers and tell them everything you'd blurted to him!"
"I won't have you talking to me this way!"
"When it's my neck you're putting on the block, I'll talk to you any way I want."
"You made him suffer!" she accused.
"He didn't feel a thing from what IYdoiud'.re the one who made him suffer."

"How can you say thatS?h"e backed away from the PanSpechi face with its frighteningly oversized humanoid features.
"You bleat about being unable to stand suffering," he growled, "but youYlouvecaitu. se it all around
you! You knew Furuneo wouldn't accept your stupid offer, but you taunted him with it, with what he'd lost. You don't call that suffering?"
"See here, Cheo, if you . . ."
"He suffered right up to the instant I put a stop to it," the PanSpe"Achnidsayiodu.
know it!"
"Stop it!" she screame"dI. didn't!He wasn't!"
"He was and you knew it, every instant of it, you knew it.
She rushed at him, beat her fists against his "cYheosut'.re lying!You're lying!You're lying!"
He grabbed her wrists, forced her to her kSnhee .lowered her headT. ears ran down her cheeks. "Lies, lies, lies," she muttered.
In a softer, more reasonable tone, he s"aMidli:ss, hear meW.
e've no way to know how much longer the
Caleban can lastB. e sensible.We've a limited number of fixed periods when we can use the S'eye, and we have to make the most of thYemou. 've wasted one of those periodWs.e can't afford such blunders, Mliss."
She kept her gaze down, refused to look at him.
"You know I don't like to be severe with you, Mliss," he said, "but my way is best -- as you've said

yourself many timesW.
e've our own ego-integrity to preserve."
She nodded without looking at him.
"Let's join the others now," he s"aPidlo. uty has devised an amusing new game."
"One thing," she said.
"Yes?"
"Let's save McKieH. e'd be an interesting addition to . . ."
"No.
"What harm could it dHo?e might even be usefuIlt. isn't as though he'd have his precious Bureau or anything to enforce his . . ."
"No!Besides, it's probably too latIe'v. e already sent the Palenki with . . . well, you under"stand.
He released her wrists.
Abnethe got to her feet, nostrils flarSinhge. looked up at him then, eyes peering through her lashes, her head tilted forwardS. uddenly her right foot lashed out, caught Cheo with a hard heel in the left shin.
He danced back, nursed the bruise with one hDaensdp.ite the pain, he was amuse"dY.ou see?" he said. "You do like suffering".

She was all over him then, kissing him, apologiTzhinegy.
never did get down to Plouty's new game.
You can say things which cannot be dTohnies. is elementaryT. he trick is to keep attention focused on what is said and not on what can be done.
-BuSab Manual
As Furuneo's life monitor ignited at his death, Taprisiots scanned the BeachbaTllheayrefao. und only
the Caleban and four enforcers in hovering guard shRiepass.oning about actions, motives or guilt did not come within the Taprisiot scopTe.hey merely reported the death, its location, and the sentients available to their scanners.
The four enforcers came in for several days of rough questioning as TahreesCulatl.eban was a different matter. A full BuSab management conference was required before they could decide what action to take about the CalebanF. uruneo's death had come under extremely mysterious circumstances -- no head, unintelligible responses from the Caleban.
As Tuluk entered the conference room on a summons that had roused him from sleep, Siker was flailing the table.He was using his middle fighting tendril for the gesture, quite un-Laclac in emotional intensity.

"We don't act without calling McKie!" Siker
"sTaihdi.s is too delicate!"
Tuluk took his position at the table, leaned into the Wreave support provided for his species, spoke mildly: "Haven't you contacted McKie yeFt?uruneo was supposed to have ordered the Caleban . . ."
That was as far as he
Egoxtp.lanations and data came at him from several of the others.
Presently Tuluk said, "Where's Furuneo's body" "Enforcers are bringing it to the lab now." "Have the police been brought in?"
"Of course."
"Anything on the missing head?"
"No sign of it."
"Has to be the result of a jumpdoor," Tuluk"Wsaildl. the police take over?"
"We're not going to allow thOant.e of our own."
Tuluk nodded". I'm with Siker, thenW. e don't move without consulting McKTieh.is case was handed
to him when we didn't know its extHenet's.
still in charge."

"Should we reconsider that decision?" someone down the table asked.
Tuluk shook his hea"dB. ad form," he said".First things firstF. uruneo's dead, and he was supposed to have ordered McKie's return some time ago."
Bildoon, the PanSpechi chief of the Bureau, had watched this exchange with attentiveHseilehnacde.
been ego holder of his pentarchal life group for seventeen years -- a reasonably average time in his species. Although the thought revolted him in a way other species could never really understand, he knew he'd have to give up the ego to the youngest member of his creche circTlheesoeogno. exchange would
come sooner than it might have without the strains of commTearnrdib.le price to pay in the service of sentience, he thought.
The humanoid appearance which his kind had genetically shaped and adopted had a tendency to beguile other humanoids into forgetting the essentially alien character of the PanSTpehcehit.ime would come,
though, when they would be unable to avoid that awareness in Bildoon'Hs icsafsrei.ends in the
ConSentiency would see the creche-change at its beginning -- the glazing of the eyes, the rictus of the mouth. . . .
Best not think about that, he warned himHseelf.needed all his abilities right now.
He felt he no longer lived in his ego-self, and this was a sensation of exquisite torture for a PanSpechi. But the black negation of all sentient life that threatened his universe demanded the sacrifice of personal fears. The Caleban must not be allowed to Udinet.il he had assured himself of the Caleban's survival, he
must cling to any rope which life offered him, endure any terror, refuse to mourn for the almost-death-of-self that lurked in PanSpechi nightmarAes. greater death pressed upon them all.
Siker, he saw, was staring at him with an unspoken question.
Bildoon spoke three word"sG: et a Taprisiot."
Someone near the door hurried to obey.
"Who was most recently in contact with McKie?" Bildoon asked.

"I believe I was," Tuluk said.
"It'll be easier for you, then," Bildoon
"sMaida.ke it short".
Tuluk wrinkled his facial slit in agreement.
A Taprisiot was led in, was helped up onto theIttacbolem. plained that they were being much too rough with its speech needles, that the embedment was imperfect, that they hadn't given it sufficient time to prepare its energies.
Only after Bildoon invoked the emergency clause of the Bureau's special contract would it agree to act. It positioned itself in front of Tuluk then, said, "Date, time, and place."
Tuluk gave the local coordinates. "Close face," the Taprisiot ordered. Tuluk obeyed.
"Think of contact," the Taprisiot squeaked.
Tuluk thought of McKie.
Time passed without contacTt.uluk opened his face, stared out.
"Close face!" the Taprisiot ordered.

Tuluk obeyed.
Bildoon said, "Is something wrong?"
"Hold silence," the Taprisiot sa"idD.isturb embedment."Its speech needles rustled".Putcha, putcha," it said. "Call go when Caleban permit."
"Contact through a Caleban?" Bildoon ventured.
"Otherwise not available," the Taprisiot sa"iMd.cKie isolated in connectives of another being."
"I don't care how you get him, just get him!" Bildoon ordered. Abruptly, Tuluk jerked as the sniggertrance marked pineal ignition. "McKie?" he said".Tuluk here."
The words, uttered through the mumbling of the sniggertrance, were barely audible to the others around the table.
Speaking as calmly as he could, McKie said, "McKie will not be here in about thirty seconds unless you call Furuneo and have him order that Caleban to get me out of here."
"What's wrong?"Tuluk asked.
"I'm staked out, and a Palenki is on its way to kIilclanmes.ee it against the fireligIth'st. carrying what

appears to be an aIxt.'s going to chop me uYpo. u know how they . . ."
"I can't call FuruneHo.e's . . ."
"Then call the Caleban!"
"You know you can't call a Caleban!"
"Do it, you oaf!"
Because McKie had ordered it, suspecting that he might know such a call would be made, Tuluk broke the contact, sent a demand at the TaprisIitotw. as against reasonA: ll the data said Taprisiots couldn't
link sentients and Calebans.
To the observers in the conference room, the more obvious mumbling and chuckling of the sniggertrance faded, made a brief return, disappeareBdi.ldoon almost barked a question at Tuluk, hesitaTtehde.
Wreave's tubular body remained so . . . still.
"I wonder why the Tappy said he had to call through a Caleban," Siker whispered.
Bildoon shook his head.
A Chither near Tuluk said, "You know, I could swear he ordered the Taprisiot to call the Caleban."
"Nonsense," Siker said.
"I don't understand it," the Chither s"aHido.w could McKie go somewhere and not know where he is?"

"Is Tuluk out of the sniggertrance or isn't he?" Siker asked, his voice"Hfeearafuclt.s like nobody's there."
Every sentient around the table froze into sileTnhcey.
all knew what Siker meaHnta. d the Wreave
been trapped in the calWl? as Tuluk gone, taken into that strange limbo from which the personality never returned?
"NOW!" someone roared.
The assembled sentients jerked back from the conference table as McKie came tumbling out of nowhere in a shower of dust and dHiert.landed flat on his back on the table directly in front of Bildoon, who lifted half out of his chMairc.Kie's wrists were bloody, his eyes glazed, red hair tangled in a wild mop.
"Now," McKie whisperedH. e turned onto his side, saw Bildoon, and as though it explained everything, added, "The ax was descending."
"What ax?" Bildoon demanded, sliding back into his chair.
"The one the Palenki was aiming at my head."
"The . . . WHAT?"
McKie sat up, massaged his torn wrists where the bindings had hePldresheinmtl.y he shifted his ministrations to his anklesH. e looked like a Gowachin frog deity.
"McKie, explain what's going on here," Bildoon ordered.
"I . . . ahh, well, the nick of time was almost a fatal nick too late," M"WcKhiaet smaiadd.e Furuneo
wait so long?He was told six hours, no moWrea. sn't he?"McKie looked at Tuluk, who remained silent,

stiff as a length of gray pipe against the Wreave support.
"Furuneo's dead," Bildoon said.
"Ahhh, damn," McKie said soft"lyH.ow?"
Bildoon made the explanation brief, then asked, "Where've you an ax?"
Wbehenat?'s this about a Palenki with
McKie, still sitting on the table, gave a neatly abbreviated chronological Irtepsourtn.ded as though he
were talking about a third persoHne. was."
wound it up with a flat statement; "I have no idea at all where I
"They were going to . . . chop you up?" Bildoon asked.
"The ax was coming down," McKie s"aIitd.was right there.H" e held up a hand about six centimeters from his nose.
Siker cleared his throat, said, "Something's wrong with Tuluk."
They all turned.
Tuluk remained propped against the support, his face slit cHloissedb.ody was there, but he wasn't.
"Is he . . . lost?" Bildoon rasped and turned IafwTauyl.uk failed to come back . . . how like the
PanSpechi ego-loss that would be!
"Somebody down there shake up that Taprisiot," McKie ordered.

"Why bother?"That was a human male from the Legal Departm"Tenhte. y never answer a question about . . . you knowH."e glanced uneasily at Bildoon, who remained with face averted.
"Tuluk made contact with the Caleban," McKie said, remembe"rIintgo.ld him . . . it's the only way he could've done it with Furuneo dea"dH.e stood up on the table, walked down its length to stand towering over the Taprisiot!
"You!" he shouted".Taprisiot!"
Silence.
McKie drew a finger along an arm of speech neTedhleeys. clattered like a line of wooden clackers, but no intelligible sound came from the Taprisiot.
"You're not supposed to touch them," someone said. "Get another Taprisiot in here," McKie ordered. Someone ran to obey.
McKie mopped his foreheaIdt. required all his reserves to keep from trembDlinugri.ng the descent of the Palenki ax he had said goodbye to the univIet rshea:d been final, irrevocablHe.e still felt that he had
not returned, that he was watching the antics of some other creature in his own flesh, a familiar creature but a stranger, reallyT.his room, the words and actions around him, were some sort of distorted play refined to blind sterilityI.n the instant when he had accepted his own death, he had realized there still remained uncounted things he wanted to experienTche.is room and his duties as a BuSab agent were not among those desiresT. he odd reality was drowned in selfish memorSietisll., this flesh went through the
motions. That was what training did.
A second Taprisiot was herded into the room, its needles squeaking comIptlawinats hoisted onto the table, objecting all the wa"yY. ou have Taprisiot!Why you disturb?"

Bildoon turned back to the table, studied the scene, but remained silent, withNdorawonne. been brought back from the long-distance trap.
McKie faced the new Taprisi"oCt.an you contact this other Taprisiot?" he demanded.
"Putcha, putcha . . ." the second Taprisiot began.
"I'm sincere!" McKie blared.
"Ahseeda day-day," the second Taprisiot squeaked.
had ever
"I'll stack you with somebody's firewood if you don't get cracking," McKie "sCnaarnledy.ou make contact?"
"Who you call?" the second Taprisiot asked.
"Not me, you fugitive from a sawmill!" McKie ro"aTrhedem. !" He pointed at Tuluk and the first
Taprisiot.
"They stuck to Caleban," the second Taprisiot
"sWaidh.o you call?"
"What do you mean, stuck?" McKie demanded.
"Tangled?" the Taprisiot ventured.
"Can either of them be called?" McKie asked.

"Untangle soon, then call," the Taprisiot said.
"Look!" Siker said.
McKie whirled.
Tuluk was flexing his facial sAlit.mandibular extensor came out, withdrew.
McKie held his breath.
Tuluk's facial slit opened wide, and he said, "Fascinating."
"Tuluk?" McKie said.
The slit widenedW. reave eyes stared ou"t.Yes?" Then, "Ah, McKieY. ou made it."
"You call now?" the second Taprisiot asked.
"Get rid of him," McKie ordered.
Squeaking protests -- "If you not call, why disturb?" -- the Taprisiot was removed from the room.
"What happened to you, Tuluk?" McKie asked.

"Difficult to explain," the Wreave said.
"Try."
"Embedment," Tuluk said".That has something to do with planetary conjunctions, whether the points linked by a call are aligned with each other across open Tsphaecre. was some problem with this call, discontinuous through a stellar mass, perhaps, And it was contact with a Caleban . . . I don't appear to have the proper words."
"Do you understand what happened to you?"
"I think soY. ou know, I hadn't realized where I lived."
McKie stared at him, puzzle"dW. hat?"
"Something's wrong here," Tuluk sa"idO.h, yes:Furuneo."
"You said something about where you lived," McKie prodded.
"Space occupancy, yes," Tuluk sa"idI . live in a place with many . . . ahh, synonyymeos,uss?ynonymous occupants."
"What're you talking about?" McKie asked.
"I was actually in contact with the Caleban during my call to you," Tu"lVukersyaiod.dd, McKieI.t was as though my call went through a pinhole in a black curtain, and the pinhole was the Caleban."
"So you contacted the Caleban," McKie prompted.

"Oh, yesI.ndeed I did."Tuluk's mandibular extensors moved in a pattern indicative of emotional disturbance. "I saw!That's it.I saw . . . ahhh, many frames of parallel Ofilfmcso. urse, I didn't really see them. It was the eye."
"Eye?Whose eye?"
"That's the pinhole," Tuluk explaine"dIt.'s our eye, too, naturally."
"Do you understand any of this, McKie?" Bildoon asked.
"My impression is he's talking like a Caleban," McKieHseaidsh. rugged."Contaminated, perhaps. Entangled?"
"I suspect," Bildoon said, "that Caleban communication can be understood only by the certifiably insane."
McKie wiped perspiration from his Hlipe. felt he could almost understand what Tuluk had said. Meaning hovered right at the edge of awareness.
"Tuluk," Bildoon said, "try to tell us what happened toWyeoud.on't understand you."
"I am trying."
"Keep at it," McKie said.
"You contacted the Caleban," Bildoon sa"iHd.ow was that doneW? e've been told it's impossible."

"It was partly because the Caleban seemed to be handling my call to McKie," Tu"lTuhkensai.d. . McKie ordered me to call the CalebPaenr.haps it heard."
Tuluk closed his eyes, appeared lost in reverie.
"Go on," Bildoon said.
"I . . . it w.a.s." Tuluk shook his head, opened his eyes, stared pleadingly around the Hroeomet curious, probing eyes on all side"Ism. agine two spider-webs," he sai"dN. atural spiderwebs, now, not
the kind they spin at our command . . . random proIdmuacgtsin. e that they must . . . contact each other .
. . a certain congruity between them, an occlusion."
"Like a dental occlusion?" McKie asked.
"Perhaps. At any rate, this necessary congruity, this shape required for contact, presumes proper connectives."
McKie expelled a harsh brea"thW. hat the devil are connectives?"
"I go now?" the first Taprisiot interrupted.
"Damn!" McKie said".Somebody get rid of this thing!"
The Taprisiot was hustled from the room.
"Tuluk, what are connectives?" McKie demanded.
"Is this important?" Bildoon asked.

"Will you all take my word for it and let him answer?" McKi"eIta'sskiemdp. ortant.Tuluk?"
"Mmmmmm," Tuluk said".You realize, of course, that artificiality can be refined to the point where it's virtually indistinguishable from original reality?"
"What's that have to do with connectives?"
"It's precisely at that point where the single distinguishing characteristic between original and artificial is the connective," Tuluk explained.
"Huh?" McKie said.
"Look at me," Tuluk said.
"I am looking at you!"
"Imagine that you take a food vat and produce in it an exact fleshly duplicate of my person," Tuluk said.
"An exact fleshly . . ."
"You could do it, couldn't you?" Tuluk demanded.
"Of courseB. ut why?"
"Just imagine iDt. on't question.An exact duplicate down to and including the cellular message Tuhniists. flesh would be imbued with all my memories and respoAnsks.it a question you might ask me, and it would answer as I might answEerv.en my mates wouldn't be able to distinguish between us."

"So?" McKie said.
"Would there be any difference between us?" Tuluk asked.
"But you said . . ."
"There'd be one difference, wouldn't there?"
"The time element, the . . ."
"More than that," Tuluk sa"idO.ne would know it was a coNpyo.w, that chairdog in which Ser Bildoon sits is a different matter, not so?"
"Huh?"
"It's an unthinking animal," Tuluk said.
McKie stared at the chairdog Tuluk had indicaIttewd.as a product of genetic shaping, gene surgery and selection. What possible difference could it make that a chairdog was an animal -- however remotely descended? '
"What does the chairdog eat?" Tuluk asked.
"The food tailored for it, what elsMe?c"Kie turned back to the Wreave, studied him.
"But neither the chairdog nor its food is the same as their ancestral flesh," Tu"lTuhke svaaidt. food is an

endless, serial chain of proteiTn.he chairdog is flesh which is ecstatic in its work."
"Of course!That's the way it was . . . maMdec.K" ie's eyes went wideH. e began to see what Tuluk was explaining.
"The differences, these are the connectives," Tuluk said.
"McKie, do you understand this gibberish?" Bildoon demanded.
McKie tried to swallow in a dry th"roTahte.
Caleban sees only these . . . refined differences?" he asked.
"And nothing else," Tuluk said.
"Then it doesn't see us as . . . shapes or dimensions or . . ."
"Or even as extensions in time the way we understand time," Tulu"kWseaiadr.e, perhaps, nodes on a standing wave.Time, for the Caleban, isn't something squeezed out of aItt'usbme.ore like a line which your senses intersect."
"Hahhhhh," McKie breathed.
"I don't see where this helps us one bit," Bildoon"Osuarid.major problem is to find AbnetDheo. you have any idea, McKie, where that Caleban sent you?"
"I saw the constellations overhead," McKie s"aBide.fore I leave, we'll get a mindcord on what I saw and have a computer check on the star patterns."
"Provided the pattern's in the master registry," Bildoon said.

"What about that slave culture McKie stumbled on?" one of the legal staf"fWasekecdo.uld ask for a . .
."
"Haven't any of you been listening?" McKie as"kOedu.r problem is to find AbnethIethought we had
her, but I'm beginning to think this may not be thatWehaesyre.
is she?How can we go into a court and
say, 'At some unknown place in an unknown galaxy, a female believed to be Mliss Abnethe, but whom I
didn't really see, is alleged to be conducting . . .' "
"Then what do we do?" the legal staffer growled.
"With Furuneo dead, who's watching Fanny Mae?" McKie asked.
"We have four enforcers inside, watching . . . where she is, and four outside, watching them," Bildoon said. "Are you sure you've no other clue to where you were?"
"None."
"A complaint by McKie would fail now," Bildoon "sNaiod.-- a better move might be to charge her with harboring a" -- he shuddered -- "a PanSpechi fugitive."
"Do we know who that fugitive is?" McKie asked.
"Not yetW.
e haven't decided the proper course yeHt.e" glanced at a Legal Department representative,
a human female seated near Tulu"kH.anaman?"
Hanaman cleared her throaSt.he was a fragile-looking woman, thick head of brown hair in gentle waves, long oval face with soft blue eyes, delicate nose and chin, wide full mouth.
"You think it advisable to discuss this in council now?" she asked.

"I do, or I wouldn't have called on you," Bildoon said.
For an instant McKie thought the reproof might bring real tears to Hanaman's eyes, then he saw the controlled downtwist at the corners of her mouth, the measuring stare she swept around the conference room. She had brains, he saw, and knew there were those here susceptible to her sex.
"McKie," she said, "is it necessary for you to stand on theYotaub'rle?not a Taprisio"t.
"Thanks for reminding me," he saHide. jumped down, found a chairdog opposite her, stared back at her with a bland intensity.
Presently she focused on Bildoon, said, "To bring everyone up to date, Abnethe with one Palenki tried to flog the Caleban about two hours aAgcot.ing on our orders, an enforcer prevented the floggHineg.
cut off the Palenki's arm with a raygAesn.a result, Abnethe's legal staff is already seeking an injunction."
"Then they were prepared ahead of time," McKie said.
"Obviously," she agreed".They're alleging outlaw sabotage, misfeasance by a bureau, mayhem, misconduct, malicious mischief, felonious misprision . . ."
"Misfeasance?" McKie demanded.
"This is a robo-legum case, not a Gowachin jurisdiction," Hanaman"Wsaeidd. on't have to exonerate the prosecutor before entering the . S. h.e" broke off, shrugged".Well, you know all thaBt.uSab is being
held to answer for collective responsibility in the consequences of unlawful and wrongful acts committed by its agents in pursuance of the authority permitted them . . ."
"Wait a minute!M" cKie interrupted."This is bolder than I expected from that crowd."

"And they charge," Hanaman went on, "that the Bureau is guilty of a felony by criminal neglect in its failure to prevent a felony from being committed and in not bringing to justice the offender after such commission."
"Have they named names, or is it all John Does?" McKie asked.
"No names."
"If they're this bold, they're desperate," McKie
"sWaidh.y?"
"They know we aren't going to sit idly by and allow our people to be killed," Bil"dTohoeny skanido.w
we have copies of the contract with the Caleban, and it gives Abnethe sole control of the Caleban's jumpdoor. No one else could've been responsible for Furuneo's death, and the perpetrator . . ."
"No one except the Caleban," McKie said.
A profound silence settled over the room.
Presently Tuluk said, "You don't seriously believe . . ."
"No, I don't," McKie sa"idB.ut I couldn't prove my belief to a robo-legum cTohuirst. does present an interesting possibility, though."
"Furuneo's head," Bildoon said.
"Correct," McKie said".We demand Furuneo's head."
"What if they contend the Caleban sequestered the head?" Hanaman asked.

"I don't intend asking them for it," McKie "sIa'mid.going to ask the Caleban."
Hanaman nodded, her gaze intent on McKie and with a light of admiration in "hCelreveeyre,"s. she breathed. "If they attempt to interfere, they're guiBltyu.t if we get the head . .Sh."e looked at Tuluk.
"What about it, Tuluk?" Bildoon ask"eTdh. ink you could get anything from Furuneo's brain?"
"That depends on how much time has passed between the death and our key-in, Tu"lNukervseaid. replay has limits, you know."
"We know," Bildoon said.
"Yeah," McKie said".Only one thing for me to do now, isn't there?"
"Looks that way," Bildoon said.
"Will you call off the enforcers, or shall I?" McKie asked.
"Now, wait a minute!" Bildoon sa"iId.know you have to go back to that Beachball, but . . ."
"Alone," McKie said.
"Why?"
"I can give the demand for Furuneo's head in front of witnesses," McKie said, "but that's not enough.
They want meI.
got away from them, and they've no idea how much I know about their hidey hole."

"Exactly what do you know?" Bildoon asked. "We've already been through that," McKie said. "So you now see yourself as bait?"
"I wouldn't put it exactly that way," McKie said, "but if I'm alone, they might try bargaining with me. They might even . . ."
"They might even shorten you!" Bildoon snarled.
"You don't think it's worth the try?" McKie aHskeeds.tared around the room at the attentive faces.
Hanaman cleared her throa"tI. see a way out of this," she said.
Everyone looked at her.
"We could put McKie under Taprisiot surveillance," she said.
"He's a ready-made victim, if he's sitting there in a sniggertrance," Tuluk said.
"Not if the Taprisiot contacts are minimal every few seconds," she said.
"And as long as I'm not yelling for help, the Tappy breaks off," McK"Gieoosda.i"d.

"I don't like it," Bildoon sa"iWd.hat if . . ."
"You think they'll talk openly to me if they see the place full of enforcers?" McKie asked.
"No, but if we can prevent . . ." "We can't, and you know it." Bildoon glared at him.
"We must have those contacts between McKie and Abnethe, if we're going to try cross-charting to locate her position," Tuluk said.
Bildoon stared at the table in front of him.
"That Beachball has a fixed position on Cordiality," McKie ar"gCuoerdd.iality has a known planetary
period. At the instant of each contact, the Ball will be pointing at a position in space -- a line of least resistance for the contacEt.nough contacts will describe a cone with . . ."
"With Abnethe somewhere in it," Bildoon supplied, looking"Puropv. ided you're right about this thing."
"The call connectives have to seek their conjunction through open space," Tulu"kThsearied.must be no large stellar masses between call points, no hydrogen clouds of any serious dimensions, no groups of large planetary . . ."
"I understand the theory," Bildoon sa"iBd.ut there's no theory needed about what they can do to McKie. It'd take them less than two seconds to slip a jumpdoor over his neck Haned d.re.w."a finger across his throat.

"So you have the Tappy contact me every two seconds," McKi"eWsoaridk. it in relaysG. et a string of agents in. . . ."
"And what if they don't try to contact you?" Bildoon asked.
"Then we'll have to sabotage them," McKie said.
It is impossible to see any absolute through a screen of interpreters.
-Wreave Saying
When you came right down to it, McKie decided, this Beachball wasn't as weird a home as some he'd seen. It was hot, yes, but that fitted a peculiar requirement of the ocScuepnatinetn.ts existed in hotter
climates. The giant spoon where the Caleban's unpresence could be detected -- well, that could be equated with a divanW. all handles, spools there, lights and whatnot -- all those were almost conventional in appearance, although McKie seriously doubted he could understand their funcTtihoensa. utomated
homes of Breedywie, though, displayed more outlandish control consoles.

The ceiling here was a bit low, but he could stand without stTohoepinpgu.rple gloom was no stranger than the variglare of Gowachin, where most offworld sentients had to wear protective goggles while visiting friends.The Beachball's floor covering did not appear to be a conventional living organism, but it was soft.Right now it smelled of a standard pyrocene cleaner-disinfectant, and the fumes were rather stifling in the heat.
McKie shook his heaTd.he fly-buzz "zzzt" of Taprisiot contact every two seconds was annoying, but he found he could override the distraction.
"Your friend reached ultimate discontinuity," the Caleban had expla"iHneids . substance has been removed."
For substance read blood-and-body, McKie translatHede. hoped the translation achieved some degree of accuracy, but he cautioned himself not to be too sure of that.
If we could only have a little air current in here, McKie tJhuosut gaht.small breeze.
He mopped perspiration from his forehead, drank from one of the water jugs he had provided for himself.
"You still there, Fanny Mae?" he asked.
"You observe my presence?"
"Almost."
"That is our mutual problem -- seeing each other," the Caleban said.
"You're using time-ordinal verbs with more confidence, I note," McKie said.

"I get the hang of them, yes?"
"I hope so."
"I date the verb as a nodal position," the Caleban said. "I don't believe I want that explained," McKie said. "Very well; I comply."
"I'd like to try again to understand how the floggings are timed," McKie said.
"When shapes reach proper proportion," the Caleban said.
"You already said thaWt. hat shapes?"
"Already?" the Caleban aske"dT. hat signifies earlier?"
"Earlier," McKie said".That's right.You said that about shapes before."
"Earlier and before and already," the Caleban alteration of intersecting connectives."
"sYaides.; times of different conjunction, by linear
Time, for the Caleban, is a position on a line, McKie reminded himself, recalling Tuluk's attempt at explanation. I must look for the subtly refined differences; they're all this creature sees.

"What shapes?" McKie repeated.
"Shapes defined by duration lines," the Caleban
"sIaidse. e many duration lineYs.ou, oddly, carry visual
sensation of one line onlVy.ery strange.Other teachers explain this to self, but understanding fails . . . extreme constriction.Self admires molecular acceleration, but . . . maintenance exchange confuses."
Confuses! McKie thought.
"What molecular acceleration?" he asked.
"Teachers define molecule as smallest physical unit of element or compToruen?d".
"That's right."
"This carries difficulty in understanding unless ascribed by self to perceptive difference between our species. Say, instead, molecule perhaps equals smallest physical unit visible to spTercuie?."
What's the difference? McKie thougIhtt's.
all gibberishH. ow had they gotten off onto molecules and
acceleration from the proper proportion of undefined shapes?
"Why acceleration?" he insisted.
"Acceleration always occurs along convergence lines we use while speaking one to another."
Oh, damn! McKie thoughHt.e lifted a water jug, drank, choked on a swaHlloewb. ent forward, gasping. When he could manage it, he said, "The heat in Mheorlecular speedup!"
"Do these concepts not interchange?" the Caleban asked.

"Never mind that!M" cKie blurted, still spitting wate"rW. accelerates the molecules?"
"Self assumes this true condition."
hen you speak to me . . . is that what
Carefully McKie put down the water jug, cappeHde itb.egan laughing.
"Not understand these terms," the Caleban objected.
McKie shook his heaTd.he Caleban's words still came at him with that non-speech quality, but he detected definite querulous notes . . . overtoAnecsc.ents? He gave it upT.here was something, though.
"Not understand!" the Caleban insisted.
This made McKie laugh all the har"dOerh., my," he gasped, when he could catch his br"eTahthe. ancient wheeze was right all along, and nobody kneOwh,it.my.Talk is just hot air!"
Again laughter convulsed him.
Presently he lay back, inhaled deepIlny.a moment he sat up, took another swallow of water, capped the jug.
"Teach," the Caleban commande"dE. xplain these unusual terms."
"Terms?Oh . . . certainlLy.aughter. It's our common response to non-fatal surpriNseo. other significant communicative content."

"Laughter," the Caleban sai"dO. ther nodal encounters with term noted."
"Other nodal . . M."cKie broke off". You've heard the word before, you mean?"
"Before.Yes. I . . . self . . . I attempt understanding of term, laWugehteexrp. lore meaning now?"
"Let's not," McKie objected.
"Negative reply?" the Caleban asked.
"That's correct -- negativIe'm.
much more curious about what you said about . . . maintenance
exchange. That was what you said, wasn't Mit?aintenance exchange confuses?"
"I attempt define position for you odd one-tracks," the Caleban said.
"One-tracks, that's how you think of us, eh?" McKie aHskeedfe.lt suddenly small and inadequate. "Relationship of connectives one to many, many to one," the Caleba"nMsaaiindt.enance exchange." "How in the hell did we get into this dead-end conversation?" McKie asked.
"You seek positional referents for placement of floggings, that begins conversation," the Caleban said.
"Placement . . . yeah."
"You understand S'eye effect?" the Caleban asked.

McKie exhaled slowlyT.o the best of his knowledge, no Caleban had ever before volunteered a discussion of the S'eye effecTt.he one-two-three of how to use the mechanism of the jumpdoors -- yes, this was something they could (and did) explBaiunt. the effect, the theory. . . .
"I . . . uh, use the jumpdoors," McKie"Isakidn.ow something of how the control mechanism is assembled and tuned to . . ."
"Mechanism not coincide with effect!"
"Uhhh, certainly," McKie agree"dT. he word's not the thing."
"Precisement!We say -- I translate, you understand? -- we say, 'Term evadesYnooudec.a' tch the hanging of this term, self thinks."
"I . . . uh, get the hang of it," McKie agreed.
"Recommend hang-line as good thought," the Caleban communication. It wonders me."
"You wonder about it."
"Negative.It wonders about me."
"sSaiedl.f, I believe we approach true
"That's great," McKie said in a flat vo"Tichea.t's communication?"
"Understanding diffuses . . . scatteYrse?s -- understanding scatters when we discuss connectiIves. observe connectives of your . . . psycFhoer. psyche, I understand 'other seTlfr.'ue?"

"Why not?" McKie asked.
"I see," the Caleban said, ignoring McKie's defeated tone, "psyche patterns, perhaps their colors. Approachments and outreaching touch by awareneIssc. ome, through this, to unwinding of intelligence and perhaps understand what you mean by term, stellar mSealsfs.understands by being stellar mass, you hang this, McKie?"
"Hang this?Oh, sure . . . sure."
"Good!Comes now an understanding of your . . . wandeDrinifgfi?cult word, McKieV. ery likely this an uncertain exchange.Wandering equals movement along one line for yTohui.s cannot exist for uOs.ne moves, all move for Caleban on own plaSn'eey.e effect combines all movements and visiIons.ee you to other place of your desired wandering."
McKie, his interest renewed by this odd rambling, said, "You see us . . . that's what moves us from one place to another?"
"I hear sentient of your plane say sameness, McSKenieti.ent say, 'I will see you to the dSoor?.' Seeing moves."
Seeing moves?McKie wondered.He mopped his forehead, his lipIts.was so damned hoWt! hat did all this have to do with "maintenance exchangWe"?hatever that was!
"Stellar mass maintains and exchanges," the Caleban
"sNaido.t see through the selSf.'eye connective
discontinues. You call this . . . privacCya?nnot say.This Caleban exists alone or self on your plane. Lonely."
We're all lonely, McKie thought.
And this universe would be lonely soon, if he couldn't find a way to escape their commWohny grave. did the problem have to hang on such fumbling communication?

It was a peculiar kind of torment trying to talk to the Caleban under these
Hpreesswuarenste. d to
speed the processes of understanding, but speed sent all sentiency hurtling toward theHebricnoku.ld
feel time flying past himU.rgency churned his stomachH. e marched with time, retreated with it -- and he'd started somehow on the wrong foot.
He thought about the fate of just one baby who'd never passed through a juTmhpedboaobr.y would cry . . . and there'd be no one to answer.
The awesome totality of the threat daunted him.
Everyone gone!
He put down a surge of irritation at the zzzt-beat of the Taprisiot inTtrhuasito, nast. least, was companionship.
"Do Taprisiots send our messages across space the same way?" he "aDsoketdh.ey see the calls?"
"Taprisiot very weak," the Caleban sa"iTda. prisiot not possess Caleban energSye. lf energy, you understand?"
"I dunnoM.
aybe."
"Taprisiot see very thin, very short," the Caleban "sTaaidp.risiot not see through stellar mass of self.
Sometimes Taprisiot ask for . . . booAsmt?plification! Caleban provide serviceM.
aintenance exchange,
you hang?Taprisiot pay, we pay, you paAyl.l pay energyY. ou call energy demand . . . hunger, not so?"
"Oh, hell!"McKie said."I'm not getting the half of . . ."
A brawny Palenki arm carrying a whip inserted itself into the space above the giaTnthespwoohinp.

cracked, sent a geyser of green sparks into the purple gAloromm.and whip were gone before McKie could move.
"Fanny Mae," McKie whispered, "you still there?"
Silence . . . then, "No laughter, McTKhiien.g you call surprise, but no laughIterb.reak line thereA. n abruptness, that flogging."
McKie exhaled, noted the mindclock timing of the incident, relayed the coordinates at the next Taprisiot contact.
There was no sense talking about pain, he thoIutgwhta. s equally fruitless to explore inhaling whips or exhaling substance . . . or maintenance exchanges or hunger or stellar masses or Calebans moving other sentients by the energy of seeinCgo. mmunication was bogged down.
They'd achieved something, though Tuluk had been rTighhet. S'eye contacts for the floggings required
some timing or periodicity which could be identifPieedrh. aps there was a line of sight involvOende.
thing
sure: Abnethe had her feet planted on a real planet somewShheere.and her mob of psycho friends --
her psycho-phants! -- all of them had a position in space which could be Slhoecatheadd.
Palenkis,
renegade Wreaves, an outlaw PanSpechi -- gods knew whaSt haell.had Beautybarbers, too, and Taprisiots, probably.And somehow the Beautybarbers, the Taprisiots, and this Caleban all used the same sort of energy to do their work.
"Could we try again," McKie asked, "to locate Abnethe's planet?"
"Contract forbids."
"You have to honor it, eEhv?en to the death?"
"Honor to ultimate discontinuity, yes."

"And that's pretty near, is it?"
"Position of ultimate discontinuity becomes visible to self," the Caleban"Psearihda.ps this equates with near."
Again arm and whip flicked into being, showered the air with a cascade of green sparks, and withdrew.
McKie darted forward, stopped beside the spoon bHowe l.had never before ventured quite this close to the CalebanT. here was more heat near the bowl, and he felt a tingling sensation along hTihsearms. shower of green sparks had left no mark on the carpeting, no residual substance, MnoctKhiineg.felt the insistent attraction of the Caleban's unpresence, a disturbing intensity thisHneeafro.rced himself to turn away. His palms were wet with fear.
What else am I afraid of hehree?asked himself.
"Those two attacks came pretty close together," McKie said.
"Positional adjacency noted," the Caleban sa"iNd.ext coherence more distanYt. ou say 'farther away'? True?"
"Yeah.Will the next flogging be your last?"
"Self not know," the Caleban sa"iYd.our presence lessens flogging intensitYy.ou . . . rejecAt?hhh, repel!"
"No doubt," McKie sai"dI. wish I knew why the end of you means the end of everyone else."
"You transfer self of you with S'eye," the Caleban"Ssoai?d".

"Everyone does!"
"Why?You teach explanation of this?"
"It's centralizing the whole damn univerIst'es. . . . it's created the specialized planets -- honeymoon planets, gynecology planets, pediatrics planets, snow sport planets, geriatrics planets, swim sport planets, library planets -- even BuSab has almost a whole planet toNitosbeolfd. y gets by without it, anymore.
Last figures I saw, fewer than a fraction of one percent of the sentient population had never used a S'eye jumpdoor."
"Truth.Such use creates connectives, McKiYe.ou must hang thisC. onnectives must shatter with my discontinuity. Shatter conveys ultimate discontinuity for all who use jumpdoor S'eye."
"If you say sIo.still don't understand."
"It occurs, McKie, because my fellows choose me for . . . coordIninaadteoqr?uate term.Funnel? Handler, perhaps.No still inadequateA. hhh! I, self of I, am S'eye!"
McKie backed away, retreating from such a wave of sadness that he felt he could not Hcoentain it. wanted to scream in protesTt.ears flowed down his cheeks unbiddeAn. sob choked himS.adness! His
body was reacting to it, but the emotion came from outside of himself.
Slowly it faded.
McKie blew air soundlessly through his lHipes.still trembled from the passage of that emoIttiohn.ad
been the Caleban's emotion, he realizeBdu. t it came out like the waves of heat in this room, swept over and immersed every nerve receptor in its path.Sadness.
Responsibility for all those impending deaths, no doubt.
I am S'eye!

What in the name of all devils in the universe could the Caleban mean by such a straHngee claim?
thought of each jumpdoor passagCe.onnectives? Threads, perhaps.Each being caught by the S'eye
effect trailed threads of itself through the jumpdoWorsa.s that it?Fanny Mae had used the word "funnel." Every traveler went through her . . . haWndhs?atever. And when she ceased to exist, the threads broke. All died.
"Why weren't we warned about this when you offered us the S'eye effect?" McKie asked.
"Warned?"
"Yes!You offered . . ."
"Not offerF. ellows explain effectS. entients of your wave expose great jToyh.ey offer exchange of maintenance. You call this pay, not so?"
"We should've been warned."
"Why?"
"Well, you don't live forever, do you?"
"Explain this term, forever."
"Forever . . . alwayInsf.inity?"
"Sentients of your wave seek infinity?"

"Not for individual members, but for . . ."
"Sentient species, they seek infinity?"
"Of course they do!"
"Why?"
"Doesn't everyone?"
"But what about other species for which yours must makeYwouayn?ot believe in evolution?"
"Evo --"McKie shook his head sharpl"yW.
hat's that have to do with it?"
"All beings have own day and depart," the Caleban"Dsaaiyd. correct term?Day, unit of time, allotted linearity, normal extent of existence -- you hang this?"
McKie's mouth moved, but no words came out.
"Length of line, time of existence," the Caleban "sAaipdp.roximately translated, correct?"
"But what gives you the right to . . . terminatMe cuKs?ie" demanded, finding his voice.
"Right not assumed, McKie," the Caleban s"aGidi.ven condition of proper connectives, another of my fellows takes up S'eye . . . control before self reaches ultimate disconUti nuistuya. l . . . circumstance rejects such solution hereM. liss Abnethe and . . . associates shorten your one-tMrayck.fellows leave."

"They ran for it while they had time; I understand," McKie said.
"Time . . . yes, your single-track Tlihnies. comparison provides suitable concepItn.adequate but sufficient."
"And you are definitely the last Caleban in our . . . wave?"
"Self alone," the Caleban sa"idT.erminal end-point Caleban -- yeSse. lf confirms description."
"Wasn't there any way to save yourseMlf?c"Kie asked.
"Save?Ahhh . . . avoidE?vade! Yes, evade ultimate discontinuityT.his you suggest?"
"I'm asking if there wasn't some way for you to escape the way your . . . fellows did."
"Way exists, but result same for your wave."
"You could save yourself, but it would end us, that it?"
"You not possess honor concept?" the Caleban as"kSeadv.e self, lose honor."
"Touche," McKie said.
"Explain touche," the Caleban sa"idN.ew term."
"Eh?Oh, that's a very old, ancient term."

"Linear beginning term, you saYy?es, those best with nodal frequency."
"Nodal frequency?"
"You say -- ofteNn.odal frequency contains often."
"They mean the same thing; I see."
"Not same; similar."
"I stand corrected."
"Explain toucheW.
hat meaning conveys this term?"
"Meaning conveys . . . yeIat'hs. a fencing term."
"Fencing?You signify containment?"
McKie explained fencing as best he could with a side journey into swordsmanship, the concept of single combat, competition.
"Effective touch!" the Caleban interrupted, her words conveying definite wo"nNdoedra. l intersection! Touche! Ahhh-ahhh! This contains why we find your species to fascinateThuis! concept!Cutting line: touche! Pierced by meaningt:ouche!"
"Ultimate discontinuity," McKie snarle"dT. ouche! How far away is your next touche with the whip?"

"Intersection of whip touche!" the Caleban s"aYido.u seek position of linear displacement, yIet sm.
oves
me. We perhaps occupy our linearities yet; but self suggests another species may need these dimensions.
We leave, outgo from existence theNno.
so?"
When McKie didn't answer, the Caleban said, "McKie, you hang my meaning?"
"I think I'm going to sabotage you," McKie muttered.
Learning a language represents training in the delusions of that language.
-Gowachin Aphorism
Cheo, the ego-frozen PanSpechi, stared out across the forest toward sunset over Itthewasesa.good, he thought, that the Ideal World contained such aTsheisa. tower Mliss had ordered built in a city of lesser buildings and spires commanded a view which included also the distant plain and far away mountains of the interior.

A steady wind blew against his left cheek, stirred his yellowHehawiro.re green trousers and an
open-mesh shirt of dull gold and grTayh.e clothing gave a subtle accent to his humanoid appearance, revealing the odd ripples of alien muscles here and there about his body.
An amused smile occupied his mouth, but not his Heeyehs.ad PanSpechi eyes, many-faceted, glistening
-- although the facets were edge-faded by his ego-surgTehrye. eyes watched the insect movements of various sentients on streets and bridgeways below hAimt .the same time, they reported on the sky
overhead (a faraway flock of birds, streamers of sunset clouds) and told him of the view toward the sea and the nearby balustrade.
We're going to pull it off, he thought.
He glanced at the antique chronograph Mliss had givenChruimde.
thing, but it showed the sunset hour.
They'd had to disengage from the Taprisiot mindclock system, thoTuhgihs . crude device showed two hours to go until the next contacTt.he S'eye controls would be more accurate, but he didn't want to move.
They can't stop us.
But maybe they can. . . .
He thought about McKie theHno. w had the BuSab agent found this plaAcen?d finding it, how had he come here?McKie sat in the Beachball with the Caleban right now -- bait, obvBioauits!ly.
For what?
Cheo did not enjoy the contradictory emotions surging back and forth througHhe hhimad.
broken the
most basic PanSpechi lawH. e had captured his creche's ego and abandoned his four mates to a mindless existence terminating in mindless deatAh. renegade surgeon's instruments had excised the organ which
united the pentarchal PanSpechi family across all spTachee.
surgery had left a scar on Cheo's forehead
and a scar on his soul, but he had never imagined he would find such delicate relish in the experience.

Nothing could take the ego from him!
But he was alone, too.
Death would end it, of course, but all creatures had that to face.
And thanks to Mliss, he had a retreat from which no other PanSpechi could extricate him . . . unless . . but there'd be no other PanSpechi, very soTohne.re'd be no other organized sentients at all, except the
handful Mliss had brought here to her Ark with its mad Boers and Blacks.
Abnethe came hurrying onto the observation deck behind Hhiisme. ars, as multiplanar in discrimination
as his eyes, marked the emotions in her footsteps -- boredom, worry, the constant fear which constricted her being.
Cheo turned.
She had been to a Beautybarber, he obserRved. hair now crowned her lovely faMcec.Kie had red hair, too, Cheo reminded himselSfh. e threw herself onto a reclining chairdog, stretched her legs.
"What's your hurry?" he asked.
"Those Beautybarbers!" she snappe"dT. hey want to go home!"
"Send them."
"But where will I find others?"
"That is a proper problem, isn't it?"

"You're making fun of me, ChDeoo.n't." "Then tell them they can't go home." "I did."
"Did you tell them why?"
"Of course notW! hat a thing to say!"
"You told Furuneo."
"I learned my lessoWn. here are my legal people?"
"They've already gone."
"But I had other things to discuss with them!"
"Won't it wait?"
"You knew we had other busineWssh. y'd you let them go?"
"Mliss, you don't really want to know the other matter on their minds."
"The Caleban's to blame," she sa"iTdh. at's our story, and no one can disprovWe hita.t was the other

matter the legal numbheads wanted to discuss?"
"Mliss, drop it."
"Cheo!"
His PanSpechi eyes glittered sudden"lyA.s you wishT. hey conveyed a demand from BuSaTbh.ey have asked the Caleban for Furuneo's head."
"His . . ." She pal"eBd.ut how did they know we . . ."
"It was an obvious move under the circumstances."
"What did you tell them?" she whispeSrehde.
stared at his face.
"I told them the Caleban closed the S'eye jumpdoor just as Furuneo was entering it of his own volition."
"But they know we have a monopoly on that S'eye," she said, her voice "sDtraomngnert.hem!"
"Ahhh," Cheo said, "but Fanny Mae has been moving McKie and his friendsTahraotunsday. s we have no monopoly."
"That's exactly what I said befoIrsen.'t it?"
"It gives us the perfect delaying tactic," he "sFaaidn.ny Mae sent the head somewhere, and we don't know where.I've told her, of course, to deny this request.

She swallowed". Is that . . . what you told them?"
"Of course."
"But if they question the Caleban . . ."
"They're just as likely to get a confusing answer as a usable one."
"That was very clever of you, Cheo."
"Isn't that why you keep me around?"
"I keep you around for mysterious reasons of my own," she said, smiling.
"I depend on that," he said.
"You know," she said, "I'll miss them."
"Miss who?"
"The ones who hunt us."

A basic requirement for BuSab agents is, perhaps, that we make the right mistakes.
-McKie's commentary on Furuneo, BuSab private files
Bildoon stood in the doorway to Tuluk's personal lab, his back to the long outer room where the Wreave's assistants did most of their woTrkh.e BuSab chief's deep-set eyes held a faceted glitter, a fire that failed to match the composure of his humanoid PanSpechi face.
He felt weak and sadH. e felt he existed in a contracting cave, a place without wind Torimsetarws.as closing in on everyoneT.hose he loved and those who loved him wouldAdllies.entient love in the universe would dieT. he universe would become homeless, enclosed by melancholy.
Mourning filled his humanoid flesn:ows, leaves, suns -- eternally alone.
He felt the demands of action, of decision, but feared the consequences of anything he might do. Whatever he touched might crumble, become so much dust falling through his fingers.
Tuluk, he saw, was working at a bench against the oppositHe ewhalald.
a length of the bullwhip's
rawhide stretched between two clampPs.arallel with the rawhide and about a millimeter below it was a metal pole which lay balanced on air without visible supBpeotrwt.een rawhide and pole could be seen flickers of miniature lightning which danced along the entire length of thTeulguakp.was bent over,
reading meters set into the bench beneath the device.
"Am I interrupting anything?" Bildoon asked.

Tuluk turned a knob on the bench, waited, turned the knob onceHemocareu.ght the pole as the
invisible supporting force released bench.
Hit.e racked the pole on supports against the back wall above the
"That is a silly question," he said, turning.
"It is, at that," Bildoon sa"iWd.e have a problem."
"Without problems, we have no employment," Tuluk said.
"I don't think we're going to get Furuneo's head," Bildoon said.
"It's been so long now, we probably couldn't have gotten a reliable nerve replay, anyway," Tuluk said. He screwed his face slit into an S-curve, an expression he knew aroused amusement among other sentients but which represented intense thought for a Wre"aWveh.at do the astronomers say about the
star pattern McKie saw on that mysterious planet?"
"They think there may have been an error in the mindcord."
"Oh.Why?"
"For one thing, there isn't even a hint, not the slightest subjective indication of variation in stellar magnitudes."
"All the visible stars had the same light intensity?"
"Apparently."

"Odd."
"And the nearest, pattern similarity," Bildoon said, "is one that doesn't exist anymore."
"What do you mean?"
"Well . . . there's a Big Dipper, a Little Dipper, various other constellations and zodiac similarities, but . .
." He shrugged.
Tuluk stared at him blank"lyI . don't recognize the references," he said presently.
"Oh, yes -- I forgot," Bildoon s"aWid.e PanSpechi, when we decided to copy human form, explored their history with some carTe.hese patterns of stars are ones which were visible from their ancient homeworld."
"I seeA.
nother oddity to go with what I've discovered about the material of this whip."
"What's that?"
"It's very strangeP.arts of this leather betray a subatomic structure of peculiar alignment."
"Peculiar?How?"
"Aligned.Perfectly aligned.I've never seen anything like it outside certain rather fluid energy phenomena. It's as though the material had been subjected to some peculiar force orThsetrersess.ult is, in some
ways, similar to neomaser alignment of light quanta."

"Wouldn't that require enormous energy?"
"Presumably."
"But what could cause it?"
"I don't knowT. he interesting thing is that it doesn't appear to be a permanent cThhaengset.ructure shows characteristics like plastic memorIyt.'s slowly snapping back into reasonably familiar forms."
Bildoon heard the emphasis which betrayed Tuluk's disturba"nRceea.sonably familiar?"he asked.
"That's another thing," Tuluk sa"idL.et me explainT. hese subatomic structures and their resultant overstructures of genetic message units undergo slow evolutWione. can, by comparing structures, date
some samples to within two or three thousand standard ySeianrcse.
cattle cells form the basic protein for
vat culture food, we have fairly complete records on them over a very long timeThinedseteradn. ge thing about the samples in this piece of rawhide" -- he gestured with a mandibular extensor -- "is that its pattern is very ancient."
"How ancient?"
"Perhaps several hundred thousand years."
Bildoon absorbed this for a moment, then, "But you told us earlier that this rawhide was only a couple of years old."
"According to our catalyzing tests, it is."
"Could this alignment stress have mixed up the pattern?"

"Conceivably."
"You doubt it, then?"
"I do."
"You're not trying to tell me that whip was brought forward through time?"
"I'm not trying to tell you anything outside the facts which I've reTpwoortetde.sts, previously considered reliable, do not agree as to the dating of this material."
"Time travel's an impossibility," Bildoon said.
"So we've always assumed."
"We know iWt. e know it mathematically and pragmaticalIlty's.
a fiction device, a myth, an amusing
concept employed by entertainersW. e reject it, and we are left without paraOdonxly. remains: The alignment stress, whatever that was, changed the pattern."
one conclusion
"If the rawhide were . . . squeezed through a subatomic filter of some sort, that might account for it," Tuluk said."But since I have no such filter, nor the power to do this theoretical squeezing, I cannot test it."
"You must have some thoughts about it, though."
"I doI.
cannot conceive of a filter which would do this thing without destroying the materials subjected
to such forces."
"Then what you're saying," Bildoon said, voice rising in angry frustration, "is that an impossible device did

an impossible thing to that impossible piece of . . . of . . ."
"Yes, sir," Tuluk said.
Bildoon noticed that Tuluk's aides in the outer room were turning their faces toward him, showing signs of amusement.He stepped fully into Tuluk's lab, closed the door.
"I came down here hoping you'd found something which might force their hand," Bildoon said, "and you give me conundrums".
"Your displeasure doesn't change the facts," Tuluk said.
"No, I guess it doesn't."
"The structure of the Palenki arm cells was aligned in a similar fashion," Tu"lBukutsaoindl.y around the cut."
"You anticipated my next question."
"It was obviousP.assage through a jumpdoor doesn't account forWiet. sent several of our people
through jumpdoors with various materials and tested random cells -- living and dead -- for a check."
"Two conundrums in an hour is more than I like," Bildoon said.
"Two?"
"We now have twenty-eight positional incidents of Abnethe flogging that Caleban or attempting to flog it. That's enough to show us they do not define a cone inUsnplaecses. she's jumping around from planet to
planet, that theory's wrong."

"Given the powers of that S'eye, she could be jumping around."
"We don't think sTo.hat isn't her wayS.he's a nesting birdS.he likes a citadeSl.he's the kind who castles in chess when she doesn't have to."
"She could be sending her Palenkis."
"She's there with 'em every time."
"We've collected six whips and arms, in all," Tuluk"Dsaoid.you want me to repeat these tests on all of them?"
Bildoon stared at the WreavTeh.e question wasn't like himT.uluk was plodding, thorough.
"What would you rather be doingB?i"ldoon asked.
"We have twenty-eight examples, you sTayw.enty-eight is one of the euclidean perfectIst'.s four times the prime sevenT. he number strongly indicates randomnesBs.ut we're faced with a situation apparently excluding randomness.Ergo, an organizing pattern is at work which is not revealed by analytic numbering as far as we've taken Iit.would like to subject the spacing -- both in time and physical dimension -- to a complete analysis, compare for any similarities we . . ."
"You'd put an assistant on the other whips and arms to check them out?"
"That goes without saying."
Bildoon shook his hea"dW.
hat Abnethe's doing -- it's impossible!"

"If she does a thing, how can it be impossible?"
"They have to be somewhere!" Bildoon snapped.
"I find it very strange," Tuluk said, "this trait you share with humans of stating the obvious in such emphatic fashion."
"Oh, go to hell!" Bildoon saHide. turned, slammed out of the lab.
Tuluk, racing to the door after him, opened it and called at the retreating back, "It is a Wreave belief that we already are in hell!"
He returned to his bench, mutteriHngu.mans and PanSpechi -- impossible creatureEsx.cept for McKie. Now, there was a human who occasionally achieved analytic rapport with sentients capable of higher logic. Well . . . every species had its exceptions to the norm.
If you say, "I understand." what have you dYonoeu? have made a value judgment.

-Laclac Riddle
By an effort of communication which he still did not completely understand, McKie had talked the
Caleban into opening the Beachball's external poTrht.is permitted a bath of spray-washed air to flow
into the place where McKie sIatt.also did one other thinIgt :allowed a crew of watchers outside to hold eye contact with himH. e had just about given up hoping Abnethe would rise to thTehebraeit.would
have to be another solutioVn.isual contact with watchers also permitted a longer spacing between
Taprisiot guard contactsH.
e found the new spacing less tiresome.
Morning sunshine splashed across the lip of the opening into the BeaMchcbKailel. put a hand into the light, felt the warmthH. e knew he should be moving around, making a poor target of himself, but the presence of the watchers made attack unlikeBlye.sides, he was tired, drugged to alertness and full of the odd emotions induced by angereMt. ovement seemed an empty efforItf. they wanted to kill him, they
were going to do
Fit.uruneo's death proved that.
McKie felt a special pang at the thought of Furuneo's Tdheearteh. had been something admirable and likable about the planetary agenIt had been a fumbling, pointless death -- alone here, traIptpheadd.
not advanced their search for Abnethe, only placed the whole conflict on a new footing of Itviolence. had shown the uncertainty of a single life -- and through that life, the vulnerability of all life.
He felt a self-draining hate for Abnethe tThheant.
madwoman!
He fought down a fit of trembling.
From where he sat McKie could see out across the lava shelf to the rocky palisades and a mossy carpeting of sea growth exposed at the cliff base by the retreating tide.
"Suppose we have it all wrong," he said, speaking over his shoulder toward the "CSaulpepboanse. we
really aren't communicating with each other atWalhl.at if we've just been making noises, assuming a communication content which doesn't exist?"
"I fail of understanding, McKTieh.e hang doesn't get me."

McKie turned slightlyT.he Caleban was doing something strange with the air around its poTshiteion. oval stage he had seen earlier shimmered once more into view, disappAeargeodl.den halo appeared at one side of the giant spoon, rose up like a smoke ring, crackled electrically, and vanished.
"We're assuming," McKie said, "that when you say something to me, I respond with meaningful words directly related to your statement -- and that you do the Tshaims em. ay not be the case at all."
"Unlikely."
"So it's unlikelyW. hat are you doing there?"
"Doing?"
"All that activity around you."
"Attempt making self visible on your wave."
"Can you do it?"
"Possible."
A bell-shaped red glow formed above the spoon, stretched into a straight line, resumed its bell curve, began whirling like a child's jump rope.
"What see you?" the Caleban asked.

McKie described the whirling red rope.
"Very odd," the Caleban sa"idI . flex creativity, and you report visible sensatYioonu. opening to exterior conditions."
"The open portI?t makes it one helluva lot more comfortable in here."
"Comfort -- concept self fails to understand."
"Does the opening prevent you from becoming visible?"
"It performs magnetic distraction, no more."
McKie shrugged". How much more flogging can you take?"
"Explain much."
"You've left the track again," McKie said. "Correct!That forms achievement, McKie." "How is it an achievement?"
"Self leaves communicative track, and you achieve awareness of same."
"All right, that's an achievemeWnt.here's Abnethe?"
need yet that

"Contract . . ."
". . . prohibits revealing her location," McKie compl"eMteady. be you can tell me, then, is she jumping, around or remaining on one planet?"
"That helps you locate her?"
"How in fifty-seven hells do I know?"
"Probability smaller than fifty-seven elements," the Caleban "sAaibdn. ethe occupies relatively static position on specific planet."
"But we can't find any pattern to her attacks on you or where they originate," McKie said.
"You cannot see connectives," the Caleban said.
The whirling red rope flickered in and out of existence above the gianAt bspruopotnly. , it shifted color to a glowing yellow, vanished.
"You just disappeared," McKie said.
"Not my person visible," the Caleban said.
"How's that?"
"You not seeing person-self."

"That's what I said."
"Not sayV.
isibility to you not represent sameness of my perYsoonu. visible-see effect."
"I wasn't seeing you, eTh?hat was just some effect you created?"
"Correct."
"I didn't think it was yYouo.u're going to be something more shapeIlyd.o notice something though: There are moments when you use our verb tenses better; I even spotted some fairly normal constructions."
"Self hangs this get me," the Caleban said.
"Yeh, well . . . maybe you're not getting the hang of our language, MaftceKr iaell.s"tood up, stretched, moved closer to the open port, intending to peerAosuth.e moved, a shimmering silver loop dropped
out of the air where he had beHeen.whirled in time to see it snake back through the small vortal tube of a jumpdoor.
"Abnethe, is that you?" McKie demanded.
There was no answer, and the jumpdoor snapped out of existence.
The enforcers watching from outside rushed to the Opnoert.called, "You all right, McKie?"
McKie waved him to silence, took a raygen from his pocket, held it loosely in "FhiasnnhyanMd.ae," he said, "are they trying to capture or kill me the way they did with Furuneo?"

"Observe theyness," the Caleban sa"idF.uruneo not having existence, observable intentions unknown."
"Did you see what just happened herMe?c"Kie asked.
"Self contains awareness of S'eye employment, certain activity of employer persons Activity ceases."
McKie rubbed his left hand across his nHecek.wondered if he could bring the raygen into play quickly enough to cut any snare they might drop over his Thheaatd.silver thing dropping into the room had
looked suspiciously like a noose.
"Is that how they got Furuneo?" McKie as"kDedid. the jumpdoor?"
they drop a noose over his neck and pull him into
"Discontinuity removes person of sameness," the Caleban said.
McKie shrugged, gave it uTph.at was more or less the answer they got every time they tried to question the Caleban about Furuneo's death.
Oddly, McKie discovered he was hungHrye. wiped perspiration from his jaw and chin, cursed under his breath.There was no real assurance that what he heard in the Caleban's words represented real communication. Even granting some communication, how could he depend on the Caleban's interpretations or the Caleban's honestyW? hen the damn thing spoke, though, it radiated such a sense of sincerity that disbelief became almost impossibMle.cKie rubbed his chin, trying to catch an elusive
thought. Strange. Here he was, hungry, angry, and afraTidh.ere was no place to ruTnh.ey had to solve this problem.He knew this for an absolute faImct.perfect as communication with the Caleban actually was, the warning from the creature could not be ignToroeod.many sentients had already died or gone insane.
He shook his head at the fly-buzz of Taprisiot coDntaamctn.
surveillance!This contact, however, failed
to break offI.t was Siker, the Laclac Director of DiscretSioink.er had detected McKie's disturbed emotions and, instead of breaking contact, had locked in.

"No!" McKie ragedH. e felt himself stiffen into the mumbling sniggertra"nNceo., Siker!Break off!"
"But what's wrong, McKie?"
"Break off, you idiot, or I'm done for!" "Well . . . all right, but you felt . . ." "Break it!"
Siker broke the contact.
Once more aware of his body, McKie found himself dangling from a noose which had choked off his breath and was pulling him up into a small jumpHdoeorh.eard scrambling at the open poTrht.ere were
shouts, but he couldn't responFd.ire encircled his neckH. is chest burnedP. anic filled his mindH. e found he had dropped the raygen during the sniggertranHcee. was helplessH. is hands clawed futilely at the noose.
Something grabbed his feeAt.dded weight tightened the noose.
Abruptly, the lifting force gave wMayc.Kie, fell, sprawling in a tangle with whoever had grabbed his feet.
Several things happened at oncEen.forcers helped him to his feAet. holoscan held by a Wreave was shoved past his face toward the jumpdoor, which closed with an electricGrsonpaipn.g hands and extensors removed the noose from his neck.
McKie inhaled a choking breath, gaspHede. would have collapsed without the support of those around him.

Gradually, he became aware that five other sentients had entered the Beachball -- two Wreaves, Laclac, a PanSpechi and a humaTn.he human and one of the Wreaves worked over McKie, clearing away the noose and supporting himT.he holoscan operator was a Wreave, who was busy examining his
instrument. The others were watching the space all around them, raygens rAeat dlye.ast three sentients were trying to talk at the same time.
"All right!"McKie husked, shutting off the babbHlei.s throat hurt when he spokHee.
grabbed the length
of noose from the Wreave's extensors, examinedThite. to recognize.It had been cut cleanly with a raygen.
rope was a silvery material which McKie failed
McKie looked at the enforcer with the holoscan, said, "What did you get?"
"The attack was made by an ego-frozen PanSpechi, ser," the Wreave enforcer said "I got a good record
of his faceW.
e'll try for ID."
McKie tossed him the severed length of no"oGset.
this thing back to the lab, Ttoeoll.
Tuluk to break it
down to its basic structurIet. may even have some of . . . Furuneo's cellsToh
ne rite.st of you . . ."
"Ser?"It was the PanSpechi among the enforcers.
"Yes?"
"Ser, we have orderIsf. an attempt is made on your life, we are to stay with you Hine hpeares.s"ed a raygen to McKie". You dropped this, I believe."
McKie pocketed it with an angry gesture.
Taprisiot contact filled McKie's min"dB.reak it!" he snapped.
But the contact firmeIdt. was Bildoon in a no-nonsense mo"oWd.hat's going on there, McKie?"

McKie explained.
"There are enforcers around you right now?"
"Yes."
"Anyone see the attackers?"
"We got a holoscaInt. was the ego-frozen PanSpechi."
McKie felt the emotional shudder from his Bureau cThhief.sensation of horror was followed by a sharp command:"I want you back here at Central immediately."
"Look," McKie reasoned".I'm the best bait we havTeh.ey want me dead for some . . ."
"Back, and now!" Bildoon sa"idI'.ll have you brought in forcibly, if you make that necessary."
McKie subsidedH. asked.
e'd never before experienced such a black mood from a c"aWllehra.t's wrong?" he
"You're bait wherever you are, McKie -- there or Ifhetrhee.y want you, they'll come for yIowu.ant you here, where we can surround you with guards."
"Something's happened," McKie said.
"You're damn right something's happeneAdl!l those bullwhips we were examining have disappeared.

The lab is a shambles, and one of the Tuluk's assistants dead -- decapitated and . . . no head."
"Ahhhhh, damn," McKie saiTd.hen, "I'm on my wa"y.
All the wisdom of the universe cannot match the alert willingness to dodge a violent blow.
-Ancient folk saying
Cheo sat cross-legged on a bare stretch of floor in the anteroom of his Aqusahrtaerrpsl.y defined
orange crosslight from windows in the next room stretched his shadow beside him like something lifeless from the nightI.n his hands he held the length of noose which had remained after it had been cut in the closing of the jumpdoor.
Damnable interference!That big Laclac with the raygen had been Afansdt! the Wreave with the holoscan had made a record through the jumpdoor -- no doubt oTfhethya'dt. start hunting back along his trail now, asking questions, showing the holoscan of his face.
Not that it would do them any good.

Cheo's jeweled eyes glittered with shards of lHigeht.could almost hear the BuSab operativ"eDs:o you recognize this PanSpechi?"
The PanSpechi equivalent of a chuckle, a rumbling grunt, shookFahtimlo.t of good that search would
do them!No friend or acquaintance from the old days would be likely to recognize his face, now that the medics had changed iOt. h, the bridge of the nose and the set of the eyes were similar, but . . .
Cheo shook his heaWd. hy was he worryingN? o one -- absolutely no one -- was going to stop him from destroying the CalebanA! nd after that, all these conjectures would be academic.
He sighed heavilyH. is hands were gripping the length of rope so tightly that his musclesItactohoedk.
him several heartbeats of effort to release thHeme . climbed to his feet, threw the severed rope at a wall. A flailing end of it lashed a chairdog, which whimpered sibilantly through its atrophied vocal structure.
Cheo nodded to himselTf.hey had to get the guards away from the Caleban or the Caleban away from the guards.He rubbed the scars on his forehead, hesitaWteda.s that a sound behind himSl?owly he
turned, lowered his hand.
Miss Abnethe stood in the doorway to the outerTheallo. range light created embers in the pearl sheathing of her gownH. er face held back anger, fear, and the grievous murmurings of her psyche.
"How long have you been there?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. "Why?"She stepped into the room, closed the do"Wor.hat've you been doing?" "Fishing," he said.
She swept the room with her insolent gaze, saw the pile of whips in Tahecyornweer.re thrown over
something vaguely round and hairAy. whispered, "What's that?"
wet red stain crept onto the floor from beneath theShpeilep.aled,

"Get out of here, Mliss," he said.
"What've you been doing?" she shrieked, whirling on him.
I should tell her, he thougIhst.hould really tell her. "I've been working to save our lives," he said. "You've killed someone, haven't you?" she rasped. "He didn't suffer," Cheo said, his voice tired.
"But you . . ."
"What's one more death among the quadrillions we're planning?" he Basykeadll. the devils of
Gowachin, she was a tiresome bitch!
"Cheo, I'm afraid."
Why did she have to whimper like that?
"Calm yourself," he sai"dI.'ve a plan to separate the Caleban from her guardWiahnes.n we achieve that, we can proceed with her destruction, and the thing's done."
She swallowed, said, "She suffeIrs.know she does."

"That's nonsense!You've heard her deny
Sit.he doesn't even know what pain meaNnso. referents!"
"But what if we're wronWg?hat if it's just a misunderstanding?"
He advanced on her, stood glaring over "hMerli.ss, do you have any idea how much we'll suffer if we fail?"
She shudderedP. resently, her voice almost normal, she asked, "What's your plan?"
One species can, all by itself, produce infinite varieties of experiTehnecesin. teraction between many species creates the illusion that infinity has been enlarged by several orders of magnitude.
-The Caleban Question by Dwel Hartavid
McKie felt danger signals from every nerve endHineg.stood with Tuluk in the Wreave's Tlahbe.
place
should have been comfortingly familiar, but McKie felt as though the walls had been removed, opening the lab onto boundless space from which attack could cNomo em. atter which way he turned, his back
was exposed to menaceA. bnethe and her friends were getting desperaTthe.e fact of desperation said

she was vulnerableI.f only he could understand her vulnerabilWityh. ere was she vulnerableW? hat was her weakness?
And where had she hidden herself?
"This is very strange material," Tuluk said, straightening from the bench where he had been examining the silvery rope."Very strange."
"What's strange about it?"
"It cannot exist."
"But it's right thereM."cKie pointed.
"I can see that, my friend."
Tuluk extruded a single mandible, scratched thoughtfully at the right lip of his Ofancee oslriat.nge eye became visible as he turned, glanced at McKie.
"Well?" McKie said.
"The only planet where this material could have been grown ceased to exist several millennia ago," Tuluk said. "There was only one place -- a peculiar combination of chemistry and solar energy . . ."
"You've got to be mistakeTnh!e stuff's right there."
"The Archer's Eye," Tuluk sa"idY.ou recall the story of the nova there?"

McKie cocked his head to one side, thought for a moment, then, "I've read about it, yes,"
"The planet was called Rap," Tuluk s"aTidh.is is a length of Rapvine."
"Rapvine."
"You've heard of it?"
"I don't believe so."
"Yes, well . . . it's strange sHtuafsf. a relatively short life span, among its other peculiar characteristics. Another thing:the ends don't fray, even when it's Sceuet.?" Tuluk plucked several strands from the cut end, released themT. hey slapped back into positio"nI.t was called intrinsic attractioTn.here's been considerable speculation about iIt.'m now in a position to . . ."
"Short life," McKie interrupte"dH. ow short?"
"No more than fifteen or twenty standard years under the most ideal conditions."
"But the planet . . ."
"Millennia ago, yes."
McKie shook his head to clearHiist. eyes scanned the length of silvery rope suspiciou"Oslbyv. iously, somebody found how to grow the stuff someplace other than Rap."
"Perhaps.But they've managed to keep it a secret all this time."

"I don't like what I think you're thinking," McKie said.
"That's the most convoluted statement I've ever heard you make," Tulu"kItssamide. aning is clear enough, however.You believe I'm considering the possibility of time travel or . . ."
"Impossible!" McKie snapped.
"I've been engaged in a most interesting mathematical analysis of this problem," Tuluk said.
"Number games aren't going to help us."
"Your behavior is most un-McKie," Tuluk s"aIirdra. tional. Therefore, I'll try not to burden your mind with too much of my symbolic constructiIotn.is, however, more than a game for . . ."
"Time travel," McKie sai"dN. onsense!"
"Our habitual forms of perception tend to interfere with the thinking process required for analysis of this problem," Tuluk said". Thus, I discard these modes of thought."
"Such as?"
"If we examine the series relationships, what do we Whaeveh?ave a number of point-dimensions in
space. Abnethe occupies a position on a specific planet, as does the CWaleebaanre. of contact between the two points, a series of events."
"So?"
given the actuality

"We must assume a pattern to these point-contacts."
"Why?They could be random examp --"
"Two specific planets whose movements describe coherent patterns in sApapcea.ttern, a rhythm. Otherwise, Abnethe and her crew would be attacking with more frequWenecya.re confronted by a system which defies conventional analysiIst. had temporal rhythm translatable into point-series rhytIhtm. is spatial and temporal."
McKie felt the attraction of Tuluk's argument as a force lifting his mind out o"fSaomceloufodr.m of reflection, maybe?"he asked."It doesn't have to be time trav --"
"This is not a fugue!" Tuluk objec"tAed.simple quadratic equation achieves no elliptical functions here. Ergo we are dealing with linear relationships."
"Lines," McKie whispered".Connectives."
"Eh?Oh, yes.Linear relationships which describe moving surfaces across some form or forms of dimension. We cannot be sure of the Caleban's dimensional outlook, but our own is another matter."
McKie pursed his lipTs.uluk had moved into an extremely thin air of abstractions, but there was an inescapable elegance to the Wreave's argument.
"We can treat all forms of space as quantities determined by other quantities," Tu"luWkesahiadv.e methods for dealing with such forms when we wish to solve for unknowns."
"Ahhh," McKie murmured".N-dimension points."
"Precisely.We first consider our data as a series of measurements which define the space between such points."

McKie nodded". A classic n-fold extended aggregate."
"Now you begin to sound like the McKie familiar tAonmaeg.gregate of n dimensions, to be sAurned. what is time in such a probleTmim? e we know to be an aggregate of one dimenBsiuotn.we are given, you'll recall, a number of point-dimensions in space and time."
McKie whistled soundlessly, admiring the Wreave's logic, then, "We either have one continuous variable in the problem or n continuous variabBleesa. utiful!"
"Just soA.
nd by reduction through the infinity calculus, we discover we are dealing with two systems
containing n-body properties."
"That's what you found?"
"That's what I founIdt. can only follow that the point-contacts of our problem have their separate existence within different frameworks of timEer.go, Abnethe occupies another dimension time from that of the BeachballI.nescapable conclusion."
"We may not be dealing with time travel phenomena in the classic fictional sense," McKie said.
"These subtle differences the Caleban sees," McKie
"saTihde. se connectives, these threads . . ."
"Spiderwebs embedded in many universes," Tuluk s"aPide.rhaps. Let's assume individual lives spin these web threads . . ."
"Movements of matter undoubtedly spin them, too."
"Agreed.And they crossT. hey unite.They intersect.They combine in mysterious wayTs.hey become tangled. Some of the web threads are stronger than othI ehrsa.ve experienced this entanglement, you

know, when I placed the call which saved yourI lcifaen.
imagine some of these threads being rewoven,
combined, aligned -- what have you -- to recreate conditions of long past times in our dimMeignhstions.
be a relatively simple problem for a CalebTahne. way we do."
"I'll buy that."
Caleban might not even understand the recreation the
"What would it take?" Tuluk mus"eAd. certain poignancy of experience, perhaps; something which
imparts sufficient strength to the lines, threads, webs of the past that they can be picked up, manipulated to reproduce the original setting and its contents."
"We're just tossing words back and forth," McKie obje"cHteodw. or the space around . . ."
could you reweave an entire planet
"Why not?What do we know of the powers involvTeod?a crawling insect, three of your strides may be a day's journey".
McKie felt himself being convinced in spite of native ca"uIttioins. true," he agreed, "that the Caleban
S'eye gives us the power to walk across light years."
"Such a common exploit that we no longer even wonder at the enormous energies this must require. Think what such a journey would mean to our hypothetical iAnsnedct!we may be getting the merest glimpse of Caleban powers."
"We should never have accepted the S'eye," McKie "sWaide. had perfectly adequate FTL ships and metabolic suspension.We should've told the Calebans to go jump in their collective connectives!"
"And deny ourselves real-time control of our univeNrsoet? on your life, McKiWe. hat we should have done was test the gift firWst.e should have probed for dangeWrs.e were too bedazzled by it, though."
McKie lifted his left hand to scratch his eyebrow, felt a prickling ofItdarunsgheer.d up his spine, exploded in a blow against his arHme. felt pain there; something bit through to the bDoensep.ite the shock, he whirled, saw a Palenki arm upraised with a glittering Tbhlaedea.rm came through a narrow

vortal tube.Visible through the opening were a Palenki turtle head, beside it, the right side of a
PanSpechi face -- purple scar on the forehead, one faceted emerald eye.
For a suspended moment McKie saw the blade begin its descent toward his face, knew it was going to strike before his shocked muscles could respoHnde. felt metal touch his forehead, saw the orange glow
of a raygen beam stab past his face.
McKie stood frozen, locked in stillneIst s.was a tableauH. e saw surprise on the PanSpechi face, saw a
severed Palenki arm begin its tumble to the floor still clutching a shattered metal rMemcKnaien'ts.
heart
was pounding as though he had been running for an Hheoufre.lt hot wetness spread across his left temple. It ran down his cheek, along his jaw, into his cHoilslara.rm throbbed, and he saw blood dripping from his fingertips.
The S'eye jumpdoor had winked out of existence.
Someone was beside him then, pressing a compress against his head where the metal had touched . . .
Touched?
Once more he had prepared himself for sudden death at a Palenki's hand, a descending blade. . . .
Tuluk, he saw, was bending to retrieve the metal remnant. "That's another nick of time I've escaped," McKie said. Surprisingly, there was no tremor in his voice.

Providence and Manifest Destiny are synonyms often invoked to support arguments founded in wishful thinking.
-from The Wreave Commentary
It was midafternoon on Central before Tuluk sent for McKie to return toTtwheo lsaqbu.ads of enforcers accompanied McKieT. here were enforcers all around in augmented foTrchee.y watched the air, the walls, the floorTs.hey watched each other and the space around their alternate numEbveerrsy. sentient carried a raygen at the ready.
McKie, having spent two hours with Hanaman and five of her aides in Legal, was ready for down-to-dirt facts.Legal was moving to search every Abnethe property, to seize every record they could find -- but it was all off there somewhere in the rarefied atmosphere of Psyermhabposls.something
would come of it, thougTh.hey had a telocourt order, reproduced thousands of times, giving the Bureau's enforcement arm sufficient authority for search on most worlds outside the GowachiGn opwaalec.hin
officials were moving in their own way to cooperate -- exonerating sufficient enforcers, clearing the names of appropriate police agencies.
Crime-One police on Central and elsewhere were assisTtinhgey.
had provided enforcers, opened files
normally not privileged to BuSab, temporarily linked their identification and modus computers to BuSab's core.
It was action, of course, but it struck McKie as too circuitous, too
Tabhsetyracnte.eded another kind
of line to Abnethe, something connected to her which could be reeled in despite any of her attempts to escape.

He felt now that he lived in a flushed-out spirit.
Nooses, blades, gnashing jumpdoors -- there was no mercy in the conflict which engaged them.
Nothing he did slowed the dark hurricane that hurtled toward the sentient uHniivsernseer.ves punished him with sensations of rough, grasping inadequaTcyh.e universe returned a glassy stare, full of his own fatigue. The Caleban's words haunted him -- self-energy . . . seeing moves . . . I am S'eye!
Eight enforcers had crowded into the small lab with TTuhleuyk. were being very self effacing, apologetic
-- evidence that Tuluk had protested in that bitingly sarcastic way Wreaves had.
Tuluk glanced up at McKie's entrance, returned to examination of a metal sliver held in stasis by a subtron field beneath a bank of multicolored lights on his bench.
"Fascinating stuff, this steel," he said, lowering his head to permit one of his shorter and more delicate mandibular extensors to get a better grip on a probe with which he was tapping the metal.
"So it's steel," McKie said, watching the operation.
Each time Tuluk tapped the metal, it gave off a shimmering spray of purplTe hsepyarrkesm. inded McKie of something just at the edge of memHoery.couldn't quite place the associatioAn. shower of sparks. He shook his head.
"There's a chart down the bench," Tuluk
"sYaidou.
might have a look at it while I finish here."
McKie glanced to his right, saw an oblong of chalf paper with writinHge omnoivt.ed the necessary two steps to reach the paper, picked it up, studieTdheit.writing was in Tuluk's neat script.

Substance:steel, an iron-base alloyS.ample contains small amts manganese, carbon, sulfur, phosphorus, and silicon, some nickel, zirconium, and tungsten with admixture chromium, molybdenum, and vanadium.
Source comparison:matches Second-Age steel used by human political subunit Japan in making of swords for Samurai Revival.
Tempering:sample hard-quenched on cutting edge only; back of sword remains soft.
Estimated length of original artifa1c.t0: 1 meters.
Handle:linen cord wrapped over bone and lacquer(eSde.e lacquer, bone, and cord analyseastt:ached.)
* * *
McKie glanced at the attached she"eBt:one from a sea mammal's tooth, reworked after use on some other artifact, nature unknown but containing bronze."
The linen cord's analysis was interestiIntgw.
as of relatively recent manufacture, and it displayed the
same submolecular characteristics as the earlier samples of rawhide.
The lacquer was even more interestiIntg.was based in an evaporative solvent which was identified as a coal-tar derivative, but the purified sap was from an ancient Coccus lacca insect extinct for millennia.
"You get to the part about the lacquer look at McKie.
"Yes."
Tyeutl?u"k asked, glancing up and twisting his face slit aside to

"What do you think of my theory now?"
"I'll believe anything that works," McKie growled.
"How are your wounds?" Tuluk asked, returning to his examination of the metal.
"I'll recover."McKie touched the omniflesh patch at his tem"pWle.hat's that you're doing now?"
"This material was fashioned by hammering," Tuluk said, not lookin"Ig'mupr.econstructing the pattern of the blows which shaped iHt."e shut off the stasis field, caught the metal deftly in an extended mandible.
"Why?"
Tuluk tossed the metal onto the bench, racked the probe, faced McKie.
"Manufacture of swords such as this was a jealously guarded craft," h"eIt swaiads. handed down in families, father to son, for centuriTesh.e irregularity of the hammer blows used by each artisan followed characteristic patterns to an extent that the maker can be identified without question by sampling that pattern. Collectors developed the method to verify authenticIity's. as definite as an eye print, more positive than any skin-print anomaly."
"So what did you find out?"
"I ran the test twice," Tuluk said, "to be ceDrteasipni.te the fact that cell revivification tests on lacquer
and cord attachments show this sword to have been manufactured no more than eighty years ago, the steel was fashioned by an artisan dead more thousands of years than I care to conHteims pnlame.e
was Kanemura, and I can give you the index referents to verifTyhethreis's. sword."
no doubt who made that

The interphone above Tuluk's bench chimed twice, and the face of Hanaman from Legal appeared on it. "Oh, there you are, McKie," she said, peering past Tuluk.
"What now?" McKie asked, his mind still dazed by Tuluk's statement.
"We've managed to get those injunctions," she every sentient world except the Gowachin."
"sTaihde. y lock up Abnethe's wealth and production on
"But what about the warrants?" McKie demanded.
"Of course; those, too," Hanaman sa"iTdh. at's why I'm callingY. ou asked to be notified immediately."
"Are the Gowachin cooperating?"
"They've agreed to declaration of a Consent emergency in their jurisdTichtaiotna. llows all Federation police and BuSab agencies to act there for apprehension of suspects."
"Fine," McKie said".Now, if you could only tell me when to find her, I think we can pick her up."
Hanaman looked from the screen with a puzzled fr"oWwhne. n?"
"Yeah," McKie snarled".When."

If you believe yourself sufficiently hungry, you will eat your own thoughts.
-A Palenki Saying
The report on the Palenki phylum pattern was waiting for McKie when he returned to Bildoon's office for their strategy conferenceT.he conference had been scheduled earlier that day and postponed twice.
It was almost midnight at Central, but most of the Bureau's people remained on duty, especially the enforcers. Sta-lert capsules had been issued along with the angeret by the medicaTl hsetafefn. forcer
squad accompanying McKie walked with that edgy abruptness this mixture of chemicals always exacted as payment.
Bildoon's chairdog had lifted a footrest and was ripple-massaging the Bureau Chief's back when McKie
entered the officeO.
pening one jeweled eye, Bildoon said, "We got the report on the Palenki -- the shell
pattern you holoscanned."He closed his eye, sighe"dI.t's on my desk there."
McKie patted a chairdog into place, said, "I'm tired of reWadhinagt's.
it say?"
"Shipsong Phylum," Bildoon sai"dP. ositive identification.Ahhh, friend -- I'm tired, too."
"So?"McKie said.He was tempted to signal for a massage from the chaWirdaotgch. ing Bildoon made it very attractiveB. ut McKie knew this might put him to slTeheep. enforcers moving restlessly around the room must be just as tired as he Twhaesy.'d be sure to resent it if he popped off for a nap.
"We got warrants and picked up the Shipsong Phylum's leader," Bildoo"nIt scaliadi.ms every phylum associate is accounted for."

"True?"
"We're trying to check it, but how can you beTshuerye?keep no written recordIst.'s just a Palenki's word, whatever that's worth."
"Sworn by its arm, too, no doubt," McKie said.
"Of course."Bildoon stopped the chairdog massage, sat "uIpt'.s true that phylum identification patterns can be used illegitimately."
"It takes a Palenki three or four weeks to regrow an arm," McKie said.
"What's that signify?"
"She must have several dozen Palenkis in reserve."
"She could have a million of 'em for all we know."
"Did this phylum leader resent its pattern being used by an unauthorized Palenki?"
"Not that we could see."
"It was lying," McKie said.
"How do you know?"

"According to the Gowachin juris-dictum, phylum forgery is one of the eight Palenki capital offenses. And the Gowachin should know, because they were assigned to educate the Palenkis in acceptable law when R&R brought those one-armed turtles into the Consent fold."
"Huh!" Bildoon said".How come Legal didn't know thaI'tv?e had them researching this from the beginning."
"Privileged legal datum," McKie sa"idIn. terspecies courtesy and all thaYt.ou know how the Gowachin are about individual dignity, privacy, that sort of thing."
"You'll be read out of their court when they find out you spilled this," Bildoon said.
"No.They'll just appoint me prosecutor for the next ten or so capital cases in their jurIifsdtihcetion. prosecutor accepts a case and fails to get a conviction, he's the one they execute, you know."
"And if you decline the cases?"
"Depends on the casIe.could draw anything from a one-to-twenty sentence for some of them.
"One-to -- you mean standard years?"
"I don't mean minutes," McKie growled.
"Then why'd you tell me?"
"I want you to let me break this phylum leader."

"Break him?How?"
"You any idea how important the mystique of the arm is to the Palenki?"
"Some idea. Why?"
"Some idea," McKie muttere"dB. ack in the primitive days, Palenkis made criminals eat their arms, then inhibited regrowth.Much loss of face, but even greater injury to something very deep and emotional for the Palenkis."
"You're not seriously suggesting . . ."
"Of course not!"
Bildoon shuddered". You humans have a basically bloodthirsty natuSroem. understand you."
"Where's this Palenki?" McKie asked.
"What're you going to do?"
"Question him!What'd you think?"
"After what you just said, I wasn't sure."
etimes I think we don't
"Come off that, BildooHn.ey, you!"McKie gestured to a Wreave enforcer lieutena"nBtr.ing the Palenki in here."

The enforcer glanced at Bildoon.
"Do as he says," Bildoon said.
The enforcer looped his mandibles uncertainly but turned and left the room, signaling half a squad to attend him.
Ten minutes later the Palenki phylum leader was herded into Bildoon'sMofcfKiciee. recognized the snake-weaving pattern on the Palenki's carapace, nodded to himSsehlifp:song Phylum, all righNt. ow that he saw it, he made the identification himself.
The Palenki's multiple legs winked to a stop in front of MThceKiteu.rtle face turned toward him expectantly. "Will you truly make me eat my arm?" it asked.
McKie glanced accusingly at the Wreave lieutenant.
"It asked what kind of human you were," the Wreave explained.
"I'm glad you rendered such an accurate description," McKieHseaidfa.ced the Palenk"i.What do you think?"
"I think not possible, Ser McKSien. tients no longer permit such barbaritieTs.h"e turtle mouth rendered the words without emotion, but the arm dangling to the right from its headtop juncture writhed with uncertainty.
"I may do something worse," McKie said.
"What is worse?" the Palenki asked.

"We'll see, won't weN?ow! You can account for every member of your phylum, is that what you claim?"
"That is correct."
"You're lying," McKie said, voice flat.
"No!"
"What's your phylum name?" McKie asked.
"I give that only to phylum brothers!" "Or to the Gowachin," McKie said. "You are not Gowachin."
In a flat splatting of Gowachin grunts, McKie began describing the Palenki's probable unsavory ancestry, its evil habits, possible punishments for its behaHvieor.concluded with the Gowachin
identification-burst, the unique emotion/word pattern by which he was required to identify himself before the Gowachin bar.
Presently the Palenki said, "You are the human they admitted to their legal coIn'vceouhrseea.rd about you."
"What's your phylum name?" McKie demanded.
"I am called Biredch of Ank," the Palenki said, and there was a resigned tone in its voice.

"Well, Biredch of Ank, you're a liar."
"No!" the arm writhed.
There was terror in the Palenki's manner nItoww.as a brand of fear McKie had been trained to recognize in his dealings through the GowachHine. possessed the Palenki's privileged name; he could demand the arm.
"You have compounded a capital offense," McKie said.
"No!No! No!" the Palenki protested.
"What the other sentients in this room don't realize," McKie said, "is that phylum brothers accept gene
surgery to affix the identity pattern on their carapaTchees. index marks are grown into the shIsenll't. true?"
The Palenki remained silent.
this
"It's true," McKie saiHd.e noted that the enforcers had moved into a close ring around them, fascinated
by this encounter". You!" McKie said, snapping an arm toward the Wreave lieuten"Ganett. their toes!"
"Toes?"
your men on
"They should be watching every corner of this room," McKie"Ysoauid.want Abnethe to kill our witness?"
Abashed, the lieutenant turned, barked orders to his squad, but the enforcers were already at their shifty,

turning, eye-darting inspection of the rooTmh.e Wreave lieutenant shook a mandible angrily, fell silent.
McKie returned his attention to the Pale"nNkio.w, Biredch of Ank, I'm going to ask you some special questions. I already know the answers to some of thIfemI . catch you in one lie, I'll consider a reversion
to barbarism.Too much is at stake heDreo.
you understand me?"
"Ser, you cannot believe that . . ."
"Which of your phylum mates did you sell into slave service with Mliss AMbnceKthiee?"demanded.
"Slaving is a capital offense," the Palenki breathed.
"I've already said you were implicated in a capital offense," McKi"eAsnasiwd.er the question."
"You ask me to condemn myself?"
"How much did she pay you?" McKie asked.
"Who pay me what?"
"How much did Abnethe pay you?"
"For what?"
"For your phylum mates?"
"What phylum mates?"

"That's the question," McKie sa"idI. want to know how many you sold, how much you were paid, and where Abnethe took them."
"You cannot be serious!"
"I'm recording this conversation," McKie sa"iId'm.
going to call your United Phyla Council presently,
play the recording for them, and suggest they deal with you."
"They will laugh at yoWu!hat evidence could you . . ."
"I've your own guilty voice," McKie s"aWid.e'll get a voicecorder analysis of everything you've said and submit it with the recording to your council."
"Voicecorder?What is this?"
"It's a device which analyzes the subtle pitch and intonation of the voice to determine which statements are true and which are false."
"I've never heard of such a device!"
"Damn few sentients know all the devices BuSab agents use," McKi"eNsoawid, . I'm giving you one more chance.How many of your mates did you sell?"
"Why are you doing this to mWeh?at is so important about Abnethe that you should ignore every interspecies courtesy, deny me the rights of . . ."
"I'm trying to save your life," McKie said.

"Now who's lying?"
"Unless we find and stop Abnethe," McKie said, "damn near every sentient in our universe excepting a few newly hatched chicks will dAien. d they'll stand almost no chance without adult protecYtioonu.'ve
my oath on it."
"Is that a solemn oath?"
"By the egg of my arm," McKie said.
"Oooooo," the Palenki moane"dY. ou know even this of the egg?"
"I'm going to invoke your name and force you to swear by your most solemn oath in just a moment," McKie said.
"I've sworn by my arm!"
"Not by the egg of your arm," McKie said.
The Palenki lowered its heaTdh.e single arm writhed.
"How many did you sell?" McKie asked.
"Only forty-five," the Palenki hissed.
"Only forty-five?"

"That's all!I swear it!"Glistening fear oils began oozing from the Palenki's e"ySehse. and the chosen ones accepted freeSlyh.e promised unlimited eggs!"
"No breeding limit?" McKie aske"dH.ow could that be?"
offered so much,
The Palenki glanced fearfully at Bildoon, who sat hunched across the desk, face grim.
"She would not explain, other than to say she'd found new worlds beyond the Consent jurisdiction."
"Where are those worlds?" McKie asked.
"I don't knowI! swear it by the egg of my aIrmdo!n't know!"
"How was the deal set up?" McKie asked.
"There was a PanSpechi."
"What did he do?"
"He offered my phylum the profits from twenty worlds for one hundred standard years."
"Whoooeee!" someone behind McKie said.
"When and where did this transaction take place?" McKie asked.

"In the home of my eggs only a year ago."
"A hundred years' profits," McKie mutter"eAd. safe dealY.
ou and your phylum won't be around even a
fraction that long if she succeeds in what she's planning."
"I didn't knowI. swear I didn't knowW. hat is she doing?"
McKie ignored the question, asked, "Have you any clue at all as to where her worlds may be?"
"I swear not," the Palenki sa"iBdr.ing your voicecorderI.t will prove I speak the truth."
"There's no such thing as a voicecorder for your species," McKie said. The Palenki stared at him a moment, then, "May your eggs rot!" "Describe the PanSpechi for us," McKie said.
"I withdraw my cooperation?"
"You're in too far now," McKie said, "and my deal's the only one in town."
"Deal?"
"If you cooperate, everyone in this room will forget your admission of guilt."
"More trickery," the Palenki snarled.

McKie looked at Bildoon, said, "I think we'd better call in the Palenki council and give them the full report."
"I think so," Bildoon agreed.
"Wait!" the Palenki sai"dH. ow do I know I can trust you?"
"You don't," McKie said.
"But I have no choice, is that what you say?"
"That's what I say."
"May your eggs rot if you betray me."
"Every one of them," McKie agre"eDd.escribe your PanSpechi."
"He was ego-frozen," the Palenki sa"iId.saw the scars, and he bragged of it to show that I could trust him."
"Describe him."
"One PanSpechi looks much like anothIerd.on't know -- but the scars were puIrprlem.
ember that."
"Did he have a name?"

"He was called Cheo."
McKie glanced at Bildoon.
"The name signifies new meanings for old ideas," Bildoon"Ista'sidi.n one of our ancient dialects. Obviously an alias."
McKie returned his attention to the Pale"nWki.hat kind of agreement did he give you?"
"Agreement?"
"Contract . . . suretHy!ow did he insure the payoff?"
"Oh.He appointed phylum mates of my selection as managers on the chosen worlds."
"Neat," McKie said".Simple hiring agreementsW.
ho could fault a deal like that or prove anything by it?"
McKie brought out his toolkit, removed the holoscan, set it for projection, and dialed the record he wanted. Presently the scan which the Wreave enforcer had captured through the jumpdoor danced in the air near the PalenkMi. cKie slowly turned the projection full circle, giving the Palenki a chance to see the face from every angle.
"Is that Cheo?" he asked.
"The scars present the identical patteIrtn.is the same one."
"That's a valid ID," McKie said, glancing at Bild"oPoanle.nkis can identify random line patterns better than any other species in the universe."

"Our phylum patterns are extremely complex, "the Palenki boasted.
"We know," McKie said.
"What good does this do us?" Bildoon asked.
"I wish I knew," McKie said.
No language has ever really come to grips with temporal relationships.
-A Gowachin Opinion
McKie and Tuluk were arguing about the time-regeneration theory, ignoring the squad of enforcers guarding them, although it was obvious their companions found the argument interesting.

The theory was all over the Bureau by this time -- about six hours after the session with the Palenki phylum leader, Biredch of AnIkt. had about as many scoffers as it had supporters.
At McKie's insistence, they had taken over one of the interspecies training rooms, had set up a datascan console, and were trying to square Tuluk's theory with the subatomic alignment phenomenon discovered
in the rawhide and other organic materials captured from Abnethe.
It was Tuluk's thought that the alignment might point toward some spatial vector, giving a clue to
Abnethe's hideout.
"There must be some vector of focus in our dimension," Tuluk insisted.
"Even if that's true, what good would it do us?" McKie "aSshkee'sd.not in our dimensioIn.say we go back to the Caleban's . . ."
"You heard BildoonY. ou don't go anywhereW. e leave the Beachball to enforcers while we concentrate on . . ."
"But Fanny Mae's our only source of new data!"
"Fanny . . . oh, yes; the Caleban."
Tuluk was a paceHr.e had staked out an oval route near the room's instruction focus, tucked his mandibles neatly into the lower fold of his facial slit, and left only his eyes and breathing/speech orifice exposed. The flexing bifurcation which served him as legs carried him around a chairdog occupied by McKie, thence to a point near a Laclac enforcer at one extreme of the instruction focus, thence back along a mixed line of enforcers who milled around across from a float-table on which McKie was doodling, thence around behind McKie and back over the same route.
Bildoon found them there, waved the pacing Wreave to a"Thelrte. 's a mob of newspeople outside," he growled."I don't know where they got the story, but it's a gooIdt coanne. be described in a simple sentence: 'Calebans linked to threatened end of universMe!c'Kie, did you have anything to do with this?"

"Abnethe," McKie said, not looking up from a complicated chalf doodle he was completing.
"That's crazy!"
"I never said she was saYneo.u know how many news services, 'caster systems, and other media she controls?"
"Well . . . certainly, but . . ." "Anybody linking her to this threat?" "No, but . . ."
"You don't find that strange?"
"How could any of these people know she . . ."
"How could they not know about Abnethe's corner on Calebans?" McKie dem"aEnsdpeedc.ially after talking to you!"He got up, hurled his chalf scribe at the floor, started up an aisle between rows of enforcers.
"Wait!" Bildoon snapped".Where're you going?"
"To tell 'em about Abnethe."
"Are you out of your minTdh?at's all she needs to tie us up -- a slander and libel case!"

"We can demand her appearance as accuser," McKie "sSahido.uld've thought about this earlieWr. e're not thinking straightP. erfect defense:truth of accusation."
Bildoon caught up with him, and they moved up the aisle in a protective cordon of Teunlfuokrcers. brought up the rear.
"McKie," Tuluk called, "you observe an inhibition of thought processes?"
"Wait'll I check your idea with Legal," Bildoon "sYaiodu.
may have something, but . . ."
"McKie," Tuluk repeated".do you . . ."
"Save it!" McKie snappeHd.e stopped, turned to Bildoo"nH. ow much more time you figure we have?"
"Who knows?"
"Five minutes, maybe?" McKie asked.
"Longer than that, surely."
"But you don't know."
I have enforcers at the Caleban's . . . well, they're keeping Abnethe's attacks to a min --"
"You don't want anything left to chance, right?"

"Naturally, not that I'd . . ."
"Well, I'm going to tell those newsies out there the . . ."
"McKie, that female has her tentacles into unsuspected areas of government," Bildoon cautioned. "You've no idea the things we found in . . . we've enough data to keep us busy for . . ."
"Some really important powers in with her, eh?"
"There's no doubt of it."
"And that's why it's time we took the wraps off."
"You'll create a panic!"
"We need a paniAc.
panic will set all sorts of sentients trying to contact her -- friends, associates,
enemies, lunatics.We'll be flooded with informatioAn.nd we must develop new data!"
"What if these illegitimates" -- Bildoon nodded toward the outer door -- "refuse to beliTevheyy'voeu?
heard you spout some pretty strange tales, McKWieh.at if they make fun of you?"
McKie hesitatedH.
e'd never before seen such ineffectual maundering in Bildoon, a sentient noted for
wit, brilliant insight, analytical adroitnesWs. as Bildoon one of those Abnethe had bougImhtp?ossible!
But the presence of an ego-frozen PanSpechi in this situation must have set up enormous traumatic shock waves among the speciesA. nd Bildoon was due for ego-collapse sooWn. hat really happened in the
PanSpechi psyche as that moment neared when they reverted to the mindless creche-breederDifdorm?
it ignite an emotional frenzy of rejectioDni?d it inhibit thought?
In a voice pitched only for Bildoon's ears, McKie asked, "Are you ready to step down as Chief of
Bureau?"

"Of course not!"
"We've known each other a long time," McKie whisp"eIretdh.ink we understand and respect each
other. You wouldn't be in the king seat if I'd challengedYyoouu.know thatN. another: Are you functioning as well as you should in this crisis?"
ow -- one friend to
Angry contortions fled across Bildoon's face, were replaced by a thoughtful frown.
McKie waitedW.
hen it came, the ego-shift would send Bildoon into shambling colAlapnsew
personality would step forth from Bildoon's creche, a sentient knowing everything Bildoon knew, but profoundly different in emotional outlooHk.ad this present shock precipitated the crisMis?cKie hoped
not. He was genuinely fond of Bildoon; but personal considerations had to be put aside here.
"What are you trying to do?" Bildoon muttered.
"I'm not trying to expose you to ridicule or speed up any . . . natural process," M"BcKutieousraid.
present situation is too urgenIt'l.l challenge you for the Bureau directorship and throw everything into an uproar, if you don't answer truthfully."
"Am I functioning well?" Bildoon musHede. shook his head".You know the answer to that as well as I
do. But you've a few lapses to explain, as well, McKie."
"Haven't we all?" McKie asked.
"That's it!" Tuluk said, stepping close to thHeem.glanced from Bildoon to McK"ieF.orgive me, but we
Wreaves have extremely acute hearinIg.listened.But I must commenTt:he shock waves, or whatever
we wish to call them, which accompanied the departure of the Calebans and left behind such death and insanity that we must buffer ourselves with angeret and other . . ."
"So our thought processes are mucked up," Bildoon said.

"More than that," Tuluk sa"idT.hese vast occurrences have left . . . reverberatiTohnes. news media will not laugh at McKieA. ll sentients grasp at answers to the strange unrest we s'Peenrsieo.dic sentient madness,' it's called, and explanations are being sought every . . ."
"We're wasting time," McKie said.
"What would you have us doB?i"ldoon asked.
"Several things," McKie sai"dF. irst, I want Steadyon quarantined, no access to the Beautybarbers of any kind, no movement on or off the planet."
"That's madness!What reason could we give?"
"When does BuSab have to give reasons?" McKie a"sWkede. have a duty to slow the processes of government."
"You know what a delicate line we walk, McKie!"
"The second thing," McKie said, unperturbed, "will be to invoke our emergency clause with the
Taprisiots, get notification of every call made by every suspected friend or associate of Abnethe's."
"They'll say we're trying to take over," Bildoon brea"tIhfedth. is gets out, there'll be rebellion, physical violence. You know how jealously most sentients guard their privBaecsyi.des, the emergency clause wasn't designed for this; it's an identification and delay procedure within normal . . ."
"If we don't do this, we'll die, and the Taprisiots with us," McK"iTehastaidsh. ould be made clear to them. We need their willing cooperation."
"I don't know if I can convince them," Bildoon protested.

"You'll have to try."
"But what good will these actions do us?"
"Taprisiots and Beautybarbers both operate in some way similar to the Calebans, but without as much . .
. power," McKie said".I'm convinced of thaTt.hey're all tapping the same power source."
"Then what happens when we shut down the Beautybarbers?"
"Abnethe won't go very long without them."
"She probably has her own platoons of Beautybarbers!"
"But Steadyon is their touchstonQeu. arantine it, and I think Beautybarber activity will stop everywhere."
Bildoon looked at Tuluk.
"Taprisiots understand more than they've indicated about connectives," Tuluk"Isatihdi.nk they will listen to you if you point out that our last remaining Caleban is about to enter ultimate discIonthtiinkity. they'll realize the significance of this."
"Explain the significance to me, if you don't mIfinTda. prisiots can use these . . . these . . . they must know how to avoid the disaster!"
"Has anybody asked them?" McKie asked.

"Beautybarbers . . . Taprisiots . . ." Bildoon mutTtehrend,. "What else do you have in mind?"
"I'm going back to the Beachball," McKie said.
"We can't protect you as well there."
"I know."
"That room's too smaIllf. the Caleban would come to . . ."
"She won't moveI.'ve asked."
Bildoon sighed, a deeply human emotional gestTurhee.
PanSpechi had absorbed more than shape when
they had decided to copy the human pattTerhne.
differences, though, were profound, and McKie
reminded himself of thisH. umans could only see dimly into PanSpechi thougWhtist.h creche-reversion imminent for this proud sentient, what was he truly thinkAingcr?eche mate would come forth presently, a new personality with all the Bildoon creche's millennial accumulation of data, all the . . .
McKie pursed his lips, inhaled, blew out.
How did PanSpechi transfer that data from one unit to anTohtheeyr?were always linked, they said, ego holder and creche mates, dormant and active, slavering flesheater and thinking aeLstihnekteed. ? How?
"Do you understand connectives?" McKie asked, staring into Bildoon's faceted eyes.
Bildoon shrugged". I see the way your thoughts wander," he said.
"Well?"

"Perhaps we PanSpechi share this power," Bildoon said, "but if so, the sharing is entirely uncIonscious. will say no moreY. ou come close to invasion of creche privacy."
McKie noddedC. reche privacy was the ultimate defensive citadel of PanSpechi existTenhceey. would kill to defend iNt. o logic or reason could prevent the automatic reaction once it was iBginlditoedo.n had displayed great friendship in issuing his warning.
"We're desperate," McKie said.
"I agree," Bildoon said, overtones of profound dignity in his "vYooicue.may proceed as you've indicated."
"Thanks," McKie said.
"It's on your head, McKie," Bildoon added.
"Provided I can keep my head," McKie sHaeid.opened the outer door onto a clamor of newspeople.
They were being held back by a harried line of enforcers, and it occurred to McKie, grasping this scene in its first impact, that all those involved in this turmoil were vulnerable from this direction.

Delusions demand reflex reactions (as though they had autonomic roots) where doubts and questioning not only aren't required, but are actively resisted.
-BuSab Manual
Crowds were already forming on the morning-lighted palisades above the Beachball when McKie arrived:
News travels fast, he thought.
Extra squads of enforcers, called in anticipation of this mob scene, held back sentients trying to get to the cliff's edge, barred access to the lava shAeilrfc. raft of many kinds were being blocked by a screen of
BuSab fliers.
McKie, standing near the Beachball, looked up at the hectic acTtihveitym. orning wind carried a fine
mist of sea spray against his cheHeke. had taken a jumpdoor to Furuneo's headquarters, left instructions there, and used a Bureau flier for the short trip to the lava shelf.
The Beachball's port remained open, he noMtedix. ed squads of enforcers milled about in a confused pattern around the Ball, alert to every quarter of their surroundPiincgkse.d enforcers watched through
the port where other enforcers shared this uneasy guardianship.
It was quite early in Cordiality's day here, but real-time relationships confused such arbitrary time systems, McKie thoughtI.t was night at Central's headquarters, evening at the Taprisiot council building where Bildoon must still be arguing . . . and only Immutable Space knew what time it was wherever Abnethe had her base of operations.
Later than any of them think, no doubt, McKie told himself.

He shouldered his way through the enforcers, got a boost up through the port, and surveyed the familiar purple gloom inside the BeachbaIllt. was noticeably warmer in here out of the wind and spray, but not as warm as McKie remembered the place.
"Has the Caleban been talkingM?"cKie asked a Laclac, one of the enforcers guarding the interior.
"I don't call it talking, but the answer is not recently."
"Fanny Mae," McKie said.
Silence.
"You still there, Fanny Mae?" McKie asked.
"McKie?You invoke presence, McKie?"
McKie felt he had registered the words on his eyeballs and relayed them to his hearinTghecyenters. definitely were weaker than he remembered.
"How many floggings has she undergone in the past day?" McKie asked the Laclac.
"Local day?" the Laclac asked.
"What difference does it make?"
"I presumed you were asking for accurate dTathae." Laclac sounded offended.

"I'm trying to find out if she's been under attack recently," McK"iSe hseaisdo. unds weaker than when I
was here before."He stared toward the giant spoon where the Caleban maintained her unpresence.
"Attacks have been intermittent and sporadic but not very successful," the Lacla"cWsea'vide. collected
more whips and Palenki arms, although I understand they're not being successfully transmitted to the lab."
"McKie invokes presence of Caleban self called Fanny Mae?" the Caleban asked.
"I greet you, Fanny Mae," McKie said.
"You possess new connective entanglements, McKie," the Caleban said, "but the pattern of you retains recognition. I greet you, McKie."
"Does your contract with Abnethe still lead us all toward ultimate discontinuity?" McKie asked.
"Intensity of nearness," the Caleban sa"iMd.y employer wishes speech with you."
"Abnethe?She wants to talk to me?"
"Correct."
"She could've called me anytime," McKie said.
"Abnethe conveys request through self of me," the Caleban"Ssahied.asks relay among anticipated
connective. This connective you perceive under label of 'noYwo.u'
hang this, McKie?"
"I hang it," McKie growle"dS.o let her talk."

"Abnethe requires you send companions from presence."
"Alone?" McKie demanded".What makes her think I'd do such a thiIntg?w"as getting hotter in the
Beachball. He wiped perspiration from his upper lip.
"Abnethe speaks of sentient motive called curiosity."
"I've my own conditions for such a conference," McKie"Tsaeildl . her I won't agree unless I'm assured she'll make no attack on you or on me during our talk."
"I give such assurance."
"You give it?"
"Probability in Abnethe assurance appears . . . incompAleptper.oximate descriptive.Assurance by self runs intense . . . stronDgi.rect? Perhaps."
"Why do you give this assurance?"
"Employer Abnethe indicates strong desire for tCalokn. tract covers such . . . caterinVge?ry close term. Catering."
"You guarantee our safety, is that it?"
"Intense assurance, no more."
"No attack during our talk," McKie insisted.

"Thus propels connective," the Caleban said.
Behind McKie, the Laclac enforcer grunted, said, "Do you understand that gibberish?"
"Take your squad and get out of here," McKie said.
"Ser, my orders . . ."
"Deface your ordersI!'m acting under the cartouche of Saboteur Extraordinary with full discretion from the Bureau Chief himselfG! et out!"
"Ser," the Laclac said, "during the most recent flogging nine enforcers went mad here despite ingestion of angeret and various other chemicals we'd believed would protecIt cuasn. not be responsible for . . ."
"You'll be responsible for a tide station on the nearest desert planet if you don't obey me at once," McKie said."I will see you packed off to boredom after an official trial by . . ."
"I will not heed your threats, ser," the Laclac"Hsaoiwd.ever, I will consult Bildoon himself if you so order."
"Consult, then, and hurry Tith!ere's a Taprisiot outside."
"Very well."The Laclac saluted, crawled out the poHrits.
companions in the Beachball continued their
restive watch, with occasional worried glances at McKie.
They were brave sentients, all of them, McKie thought, to continue this duty in the face of unknown peril. Even the Laclac demonstrated extraordinary courage -- with his perveOrsnitlyy. obeying orders
though; no doubt of that.

Although it galled him, McKie waited.
An odd thought struck hiImf :all sentients died, all power stations of their universe would grind to a halt. It gave him a strange feeling, this contemplation of an end to mechanical things and commercial enterprise.
Green, growing things would take over -- trees with golden light in their bAranndchtehse.
dull sounds
of nameless metal devices, things of plastic and glass, would grow muffled with no ears to hear them.
Chairdogs would die, unfePd.rotein vats would fail, decompose.
He thought of his own flesh decomposing.
The whole fleshly universe decomposing.
It would be over in an instant, the way universe measured time.
A wild pulse lost on some breeze.
Presently the Laclac reappeared in the port, said, "Ser, I am instructed to obey your orders, but to remain outside in visual contact with you, returning to this place at the first sign of trouble."
"If that's the best we can do, that's it," McKie"Gseatidm. oving."
In a minute McKie found himself alone with the CaTlehbeans.ense that every place in this room lay behind him persistedH. is spine itchedH. e felt increasingly that he was taking too much of a risk.

But there was the desperation of their position.
"Where's Abnethe?" McKie aske"dI. thought she wanted to talk."
A jumpdoor opened abruptly to the left of the Caleban's sApbonoent.he's head and shoulders appeared in it, all slightly pink-hazed by the slowdown of all energy within thatThpeortliagl.ht was sufficient,
though, that McKie could see subtle changes in Abnethe's appearHanecew. as gratified to note a harried
look to herW.
isps of hair escaped her tight coiffuBrelo. odshot veins could be detected in her eyes.
There were wrinkles in her forehead.
She needed her Beautybarbers.
"Are you ready to give yourself up?" McKie asked.
"That's a stupid question," she sa"iYd.ou're alone at my command."
"Not quite alone," McKie said, "There are H. e. b."roke off at the sly smile which formed on Abnethe's lips.
"You'll note that Fanny Mae has closed the exterior port of her residence," Abnethe said.
McKie shot a glance to his left, saw that the port was Tcrleoascehde.ry?
"Fanny Mae!" he calle"dY. ou assured me . . ."
"No attack," the Caleban sa"idP.rivacy."
McKie imagined the consternation in the enforcers outside rightBnuotwt.hey would never be able to

break into the BeachbalHl. e saved his protests, swalloweTd.he room remained utterly still.
"Privacy, then," he agreed.
"That's better," Abnethe sai"dW. nuisance."
e must reach agreement, McKiYe.ou're becoming somewhat of a
"Oh, more than a nuisance, certainly?"
"Perhaps."
"Your Palenki, the one who was going to chop me up -- I found him a nuiMsanacyeb,e toeov.en more than a nuisanceN. ow that I think about it, I recall that I suffered."
Abnethe shuddered.
"By the way," McKie said, "we know where you are."
"You lie!"
"Not reallyY. You haven't."
ou see, you're not where you think you are, MYloisus. think you've gone back in time.
"You lie, I say!"
"I have it pretty well figured out," McKie "sTahide. place where you are was constructed from your connectives -- your memories, dreams, wishes . . . perhaps even from things you expressly described."

"What nonsense!"She sounded worried.
"You asked for a place that would be safe from the apocalypse," McK"iFeansnayid.Mae warned you about ultimate discontinuity, of coursSe.he probably demonstrated some of her powers, showed you various places available to you along the connectives of you and your assoTchiat'ess.when you got your big idea."
"You're guessing," Abnethe saiHd.er face was grim.
McKie smiled.
"You could stand a little session with your Beautybarbers," he"Ysoauid'r.e looking a bit seedy, Mliss."
She scowled.
"Are they refusing to work for you?" McKie persisted.
"They'll come around!" she snapped.
"When?"
"When they see they've no alternative!"
"Perhaps."
"We're wasting time, McKie."

"That's trueW.
hat was it you wanted to say to me?"
"We must make an agreement, McKie; just the two of us."
"You'll marry me, is that it?"
"That's your price?S"he was obviously surprised. "I'm not sure," McKie sa"idW. hat about Cheo?" "Cheo begins to bore me."
"That's what worries me," McKie sa"iId.ask myself how long it would be until I bored you?"
"I realize you're not being sincere," she said, "that you're stIaltlhiningk. , however, we can reach agreement."
"What makes you think that?"
"Fanny Mae suggested it," she said.
McKie peered at the shimmering unpresence of the Cale"Fban.ny Mae suggested it?h"e murmured.
And he thought, Fanny Mae determines her own brand of reality from what she sees of these mysterious connectives: a special perception tailored to her particular energy consumption.

Sweat dripped from his foreheaHde.
rocked forward, sensing that he stood on the brink of a revelation.
"Do you still love me, Fanny Mae?" he asked.
Abnethe's eyes went wide with surpri"sWe.haaat?"
"Affinity awareness," the Caleban sa"idL.ove equates with this coherence I possess of you, McKie."
"How do you savor my single-track existence?" McKie asked.
"Intense affinity," the Caleban sa"idP.roduct of sincerity of attempts at communicatiIo-nse. lf-Caleban love you human-person, McKie."
Abnethe glared at McKi"eI. came here to discuss a mutual problem, McKie," she f"lIareddid. anticipate standing aside for a gibberish session between you and this stupid Caleban!"
"Self not in stupor," the Caleban said.
not
"McKie," Abnethe said, voice low, "I came to suggest a proposition of mutualJobiennemfiet..I don't care what capacity you choose, the rewards will be more than you could possibly . . ."
"You don't even suspect what's happened to you," McKie"Tsahiadt.'s the strange thing."
"Damn you!I could make an emperor out of you!"
"Don't you realize where Fanny Mae has hidden you?" McKie "aDskoend't. you recognize this safe . . ."

"Muss!"
It was an angry voice from somewhere behind Abnethe, but the speaker was not visible to McKie.
"Is that you, Cheo?" McKie call"eDd.o you know where you are, CheAo?PanSpechi must suspect the truth."
A hand came into view, yanked Abnethe aTsihde. ego-frozen PanSpechi took her place in the jumpdoor opening.
"You're much too clever, McKie," Cheo said.
"How dare you, Cheo!" Abnethe screamed.
Cheo swirled, swung an arTmh.ere was the sound of flesh hitting flesh, a stifled scream, another blow. Cheo bent away from the opening, came back into view.
"You've been in that place before, haven't you, ChMeoc?K"ie asked."Weren't you a mewling, empty-minded female in the creche at one period of your existence?"
"Much too clever," Cheo snarled.
"You'll have to kill her, you know," McKie "sIafidy.ou don't, it'll all be for nothSinhge.'ll digest you. She'll take over your egSo.he'll be you."
"I didn't know this happened with humans," Cheo said.
"Oh, it happens," McKie sa"idT.hat's her world, isn't it, Cheo?"

"Her world," Cheo agreed, "but you're mistaken about one thing, MI ccKaine.control MlissS.o it's my
world, isn't it?And another thingI:
can control you!"
The jumpdoor's vortal tube suddenly grew smaller, darted at McKie.
McKie dodged aside, shouted, "Fanny MYaeo!u promised!"
"New connectives," the Caleban said.
McKie executed a sprawling dive across the room as the jumpdoor appeared besiIdtenihpipme.d into existence and out like a ravening mouth, narrowly missing McKie with each Haettatcwk.isted, leaped -- dodged panting through the Beachball's purple gloom, finally rolled under the giant spoon, peered right and left.He shuddered.He hadn't realized a jumpdoor could be moved around that rapidly.
"Fanny Mae," he rasped, "shut the S'eye, close it down or whatever Yyou dporo. mised -- no attack!"
No response.
McKie glimpsed an edge of the vortal tube hovering just beyond the spoon bowl.
"McKie!"
It was Cheo's voice.
"They'll call you long distance in a minute, McKie," Cheo "cWallheedn.
they do, I'll have you."

McKie stilled a fit of trembling.
They would call himB!ildoon had probably summoned a Taprisiot alreaTdyh.ey'd be worrying about him -- the port closeAd.nd he'd be helpless in the grip of the call.
"Fanny Mae!" McKie hisse"dC. lose that damn S'eye!"
The vortal tube glittered, shifted up and around to come at him from Cthuersisnidge, . McKie rolled into
a ball, kicked backward and over onto his knees, leaped to his feet and flung himself across the spoon handle, scrambled back under it.
The searching tube moved away.
There came a low, crackling sound, like thunder to MHcKe ige.lanced right, left, back over his head. There was no sign of the deadly opening.
Abruptly, something snapped sharply above the spoon bAowsl.hower of green sparks cascaded around McKie where he lay beneathHiet. slid to the side, brought up his rayAgenP.alenki arm and
whip had been thrust through the jumpdoor's openIitngw. as raised to deliver another blow against the
Caleban.
McKie sprayed the raygen's beam across the arm as the whip mAormveda.nd whip grazed the far edge of the spoon, brought another shower of sparks.
The jumpdoor's opening winked out of existence.
McKie crouched, the afterimage of the sparks still dancing on his
Nreotiwnas-.- now he recalled what
he'd been trying to remember since watching Tuluk's experiment with the steel!
"S'eye removed."

Fanny Mae's voice fell on McKie's forehead, seemed to seep inward to his speechHcuennteterrso.f
Devils! She sounded weak!
Slowly McKie lifted himself to his fTehete. but he ignored them.
Shower of sparks!
Palenki arm and whip lay on the floor where they had fallen,
McKie felt strange emotions washing through him, around Hheimf.elt happily angry, satiated with frustrations, words and phrases tumbling through his mind like pinwheels.
That perverted offspring of an indecent union!
Shower of sparksS!hower of sparks!
He knew he had to hold that thought and his sanity no matter what the surging waves of emotion from
Fanny Mae did to him.
Shower of . . . shower . . . Was Fanny Mae dying? "Fanny Mae?"
The Caleban remained silent, but the emotional onslaught eased.
McKie knew there was something he had to rememItbceor.ncerned TulukH.
e had to tell Tuluk.

Shower of sparks!
He had it theTn:he pattern that identifies the makeAr! shower of sparks.
He felt he'd been running for hours, that his nerves were bruised and Htains gmleidn.d was a bowl of
jelly. Thoughts quivered through iHt. is brain was going to melt and run away like a stream of colored liquid. It would spray out of him -- shower on . . .
Shower of . . . of . . . SPARKS!
Louder this time, he called, "Fanny Mae?"
A peculiar silence rippled through the BeachbItalwl. as an emotionless silence, something shut off, removed. It made McKie's skin prickle.
"Answer me, Fanny Mae," he said.
"S'eye absents itself," the Caleban said.
McKie felt shame, a deep and possessive sense of Itgufillotw. cell. Dirty, muddy, sinful, shameful . . .
He shook his heaWd. hy should he feel guilt?
ed over him and through him, filled every
Ahhh.Realization came over himT.he emotion came from outside hiImt .was Fanny Mae!

"Fanny Mae," he said, "I understand you could not prevent that Iatdtaocnk't. blame youI. understand."
"Surprise connectives," the Caleban sa"idY.ou overstand."
"I understand."
"Overstand?Term for intensity of knowledgeR?ealization!"
"Realization, yes."
Calmness returned to McKie, but it was the calmness of something being withdrawn.
Again he reminded himself that he had a vital message for SThuolwuke.r of sparksB. ut first he had to be certain that that mad PanSpechi wasn't going to return momentarily.
"Fanny Mae, " he said, "can you prevent them from using the S'eye?"
"Obstructive, not preventive," the Caleban said.
"You mean you can slow them down?"
"Explain slow."
"Oh, no," McKie moaneHd.e cast around in his mind for a Caleban way to phrase his qHueoswtion. would Fanny Mae say it?
"Will there be . .H.e" shook his head".The next attack, will it be on a short connective or long one?"

"Attack series breaks here," the Caleban s"aYido.u inquire of duration by your time seInsoev. erstand this. Long line across attack nodes, this equates with more intense duration for your time sense."
"Intense duration," McKie muttere"dY. eah."
Shower of sparks, he reminded himsSelhfo. wer of sparks.
"You signify employment of S'eye by Cheo," the Caleban"Ssapiadc.ing extends at this placCe.heo goes farther down your tracIk.overstand intensely for McKiYe:es?"
Farther down my track, McKie thougHhet. gulped as realization hit hiWm.hat had Fanny Mae said earlier? "See us to the dooIr!am S'eye!"
He breathed softly, lest sudden motion dislodge this brutal clarity of understanding.
Overstanding!
He thought of energy requiremenEtsn.ormous! "I am S'eye!"And "Self-energy -- by being stellar mass!" To do what they did in this dimension, Calebans required the energy of a stellSahreminashsa.led the
whip! She'd said it herselfth: ey sought energy hereT.he Calebans fed in this dimensioIn other dimensions, too, no doubt.
McKie considered the refined discrimination Fanny Mae must possess even to attempt communication with him.It would be as though he immersed his mouth in water and tried to talk to a single microorganism there!
I should have understood, he thought, when Tuluk said something about realizing where he lived.

"We have to go right back to the beginning," he said. "Many beginnings exist for each entity," the Caleban said. McKie sighed.
Sighing, he was seized by a Taprisiot conIttacwt.as Bildoon.
"I'm glad you waited," McKie said, cutting off Bildoon's first anxious in"qHuierrie's. to . . ."
what I want you
"McKie, what's going on there?" Bildoon insis"tTedh.ere are dead enforcers all around you, madmen, a riot . . ."
"I seem to be immune," McKie said, "or else Fanny Mae is protecting me soNmoew,wlaiyst.en to me.
We don't have much timGe.et Tuluk.He has a device for identifying the patterns which originate in the
stress of creationH.
e's to bring that device here -- right here to the BeacAhnbdallf.ast."
Taken in isolated tandem, Government and Justice are mutually exclTushievree.
must be a third force at

work for any society to achieve both government and juTsthicise. is why the Bureau of Sabotage sometimes is called "The Third Force."
-from an Elementary Textbook
In the hushed stillness within the Beachball, McKie leaned against a curved wall, sipped ice water from a thermocup. He kept his eyes active, though, watching Tuluk set up the needed instruments.
"What's to prevent our being attacked while we work?" Tuluk Hasekerdo.lled a glowing loop on a squat stand into position near the Caleban's unpresen"Yceo.u should've let Bildoon send in some guards."
"Like those ones who were foaming at the mouth outside?"
"There's a fresh crew outside there now!"
Tuluk did something which made the glowing loop double its diameter.
"They'd only get in the way," McKie
"sBaieds.ides, Fanny Mae says the spacing isn't right for Abnethe."
He sipped ice waterT. he room had achieved something approaching sauna temperature, but without the humidity.
"Spacing," Tuluk said".Is that why Abnethe keeps missing youH?e" produced a black wand from his instrument case.The wand was about a meter loHnge. adjusted a knob on the wand's handle, and the glowing loop contractedT. he squat stand beneath the glowing loop began to hum -- an itch-producing middle C.
"They miss me because I have a loving protector," McKie"Itsaiisdn.'t every sentient who can say a
Caleban loves him."

"What is that you're drinking?" Tuluk ask"Iesd.that one of your mind disrupters?"
"You're very funny," McKie sa"idH.ow much longer are you going to be fiddling with that gear?"
"I am not fiddlinDg.on't you realize this isn't portable equipmeIntt?must be adjusted."
"So adjust."
"The high temperature in here complicates my readings." Tuluk compl"aWinehdy. open?"
can't we have the port
"For the same reason I didn't let any guards inI'lhl etraek.e my chances without having them complicated by a mob of insane sentients getting in my way."
"But must it be this hot?"
"Can't be helped," McKie sa"idF.anny Mae and I have been talking, working things out."
"Talking?"
"Hot air," McKie said.
"Ahhh, you make a joke."
"It can happen to anyone," McKie s"aIidk. eep asking myself if what we see as a star is all of a Caleban or just part of onIe.opt for part.H" e drank deeply of the ice water, discovered there was no more ice in it. Tuluk was rightI.t was damnably hot in here.

"That's a strange theory," Tuluk saHide. silenced the humming of his instrument cIanset.he abrupt stillness something else in the case could be heard ticIktinwga. s not a peaceful sounIdt .had the feeling of a timing device affixed to a boImt bc.ounted moments in a deadly race.
McKie felt each counted moment accumulate like a congealing buItbbelxep. anded . . . expanded -- and broke!Each instant was death lashing at hTimu.luk with his strange wand was a magician, but he had reversed the ancient procesHs.e was turning golden instants into deadly leHaids. shape was wrong, too. He had no haunchesT. he tubular Wreave shape annoyed McKWie.reaves moved too slowly.
The damnable ticking!
The Caleban's Beachball might be the last house in the universe, the last container for sentAienndt liitfe. contained no bed where a sentient might die decently.
Wreaves didn't sleep in beds, of couTrshee.y took their rest in slanted supports and were buried upright.
Tuluk had gray skin.
Lead.
If all things ended now, McKie wondered, which of them would be the laWst htosegob?reath would be the final one?
McKie breathed the echoes of all his fTeahresr.e was too much hanging on each counted instant here.
No more melodies, no more laughter, no more children racing in play. . . .
"There," Tuluk said.

"You ready?" McKie asked.
"I will be ready presentWly.hy does the Caleban not speak?"
"Because I asked her to save her strength."
"What does she say of your theory?"
"She thinks I have achieved tru"th.
Tuluk took a small helix from his instrument case, inserted it into a receptacle at the base of the glowing ring.
"Come one, come on," McKie jittered.
"Your urgings will not reduce the necessary time for this task," Tulu"kFosraiedx.ample, I am hungrIy. came without stopping to break my daily fTahsti.s does not press me to speed which might produce errors, nor does it arouse me to complain."
"Aren't you complaining?" McKie aske"dY.ou want some of my water?"
"I had water two days ago," Tuluk said.
"And we wouldn't want to rush you into another drink."
"I do not understand what pattern you hope to identify," Tulu"kWseaidh.ave no records of artisans for

a proper comparison of . . ."
"This is something God made," McKie said.
"You should not jest about deities," Tuluk said.
"Are you a believer or just playing safe?" McKie asked.
"I was chiding you for an act which might offend some sentients," Tul"uWk esahida.ve a hard enough time bridging the sentient barriers without raising religious issues."
"Well, we've been spying on God -- or whatever -- for a long time," Mc"KTiheats'saidw.hy we're
going to get a spectroscopic record of tHhiosw.
much longer you going to be at this fiddling?"
"Patience, patience," Tuluk muttereHd.e reactivated the wand, waved it near the glowing Arignagi.n the instrument began humming, a higher note this tiImt eg.rated on McKie's nerveHs.e felt it in his teeth and along the skin of his shouldeIrts.itched inside him where he couldn't scratch.
"Damn this heat!" Tuluk sa"idW. hy will you not have the Caleban open a door to the outside?"
"I told you why."
"Well, it doesn't make this task any easier!"
"You know," McKie said, "when you called me and saved my skin from that Palenki chopper -- the first time, remember?Right afterward you said you'd been tangled with Fanny Mae, and you said a very odd thing."
"Oh?"Tuluk had extended a small mandible and was making delicate adjustments to a knob on the case

below the glowing ring.
"You said something about not knowing that was where youRleivmeedm.
ber that?"
"I will never forget iTt.u"luk bent his tubular body across the glowing ring, stared back through it while passing the wand back and forth in front of the ring's opening.
"Where was that?" McKie asked.
"Where was what?"
"Where you lived!"
"That?There are no words to describe it."
"Try."
Tuluk straightened, glanced at McK"ieIt.
was a bit like being a mote in a vast sea . . . and experiencing
the warmth, the friendship of a benign gi"ant.
"That giant -- the Caleban?"
"Of course."
"That's what I thought."
"I will not answer for inaccuracies in this device," Tuluk"BsuatidI.
don't believe I can adjust it any

closer. Given a few days, some shielding -- there's an odd radiation pattern from that wall behind you --
and projection dampers, I might, I just might achieve a fair degree of acNcuorwac?yI. responsible."
"And you'll be able to get a spectroscopic record?"
"Oh, yes."
"Then maybe we're in time," McKie said.
"For what?"
"For the right spacing."
"Ahhh, you mean the flogging and the subsequent shower of sparks?"
"That's what I mean."
"You could not . . . flog her yourself, gently?"
cannot be
"Fanny Mae says that wouldn't woIrtk.has to be done with violence . . . and the intent to create intensity of anti-love . . . or it won't work."
"Oh.How odd.You know, McKie, I believe I could use some of your water, aIftt'esr thalel. heat in here."

Any conversation is a unique jazz performanScoem. e are more pleasing to the ears, but that is not necessarily a measure of their importance.
-Laclac Commentary
There was a popping sound, a stopper being pulled from a Abiorttplere. ssure dropped slightly in the Beachball, and McKie experienced the panic notion that Abnethe had somehow opened them onto a vacuum which would rain away their air and kill tThheme .physicists said this couldn't be done, that the
gas flow, impeded by the adjustment barrier within the jumpdoor, would block the opening with its own collision breakdown.McKie suspected they pretended to know about S'eye phenomena.
He missed the jumpdoor's vortal tube at spoon bowl.
Iftisrstp. lane was horizontal and directly above the Caleban's
A Palenki arm and whip shot through the opening, delivered a lashing blow to the area occupied by the
Caleban's unpresence.Green sparks showered the air. Tuluk, bending over his instruments, muttered excitedly. The Palenki arm drew back, hesitated.

"Again!Again!"
The voice through the jumpdoor was unmistakably that of Cheo.
The Palenki delivered another blow and another.
McKie lifted his raygen, dividing his attention between Tuluk and that punishingDidwhTipu.luk have his readings? No telling how much more of this the Caleban could survive.
Again the whip lasheGd.reen sparks glimmered and fell. "Tuluk, do you have enough data?" McKie demanded. Arm and whip jerked back through the jumpdoor.
A curious silence settled over the room.
"Tuluk?" McKie hissed.
"I believe I have it," Tuluk s"aIitd's. however."
a good recordingI. will not vouch for comparison and identification,
McKie grew aware that the room was not really
Tsihleentt.hrumming of Tuluk's instruments formed a
background for a murmur of voices coming through the jumpdoor.
"Abnethe?" McKie called.

The opening tipped, gave him a three-quarter view of Abnethe'sThfaecre. was a purple bruise from her left temple down across her cheAek.silver noose held her throat, its end firmly in the grip of a PanSpechi hand.
Abnethe, McKie saw, was trying to control a rage which threatened to burst hHerervefiancse.
was
alternately pale and flushedS.he held her mouth tight, lips in a thinCloinme.pressed violence radiated from every pore.
She saw McKie".See what you've done?" she shrieked.
McKie pushed himself away from the wall, fascinaHte .approached the jumpdoor".What I did?That looks more like Cheo's handiwork."
"It's all your fault!"
"Oh?That was clever of me."
"I tried to be reasonable," she rasp"eI dt.ried to help you, save yBout no!You treated me like a criminal. This is the thanks I got from you."
She gestured at the noose around her throat. "WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?" "Cheo!" McKie called".What'd she do?"
Cheo's voice came from a point beyond the arm gripping the "nToeollseh.im, Mliss."

Tuluk, who had been ignoring the exchange, busying himself with his instruments, turned to McKie. "Remarkable," he said". Truly remarkable."
"Tell him!" Cheo roared as Abnethe held a stubborn silence.
Both Abnethe and Tuluk began talking at oInt ccea. me through to McKie as a mixed jumble of noises: "Youinterstellferederhydrowithgenlawnmassfulexecufrom . . ."
"Shut up!" McKie shouted.
Abnethe jerked back, shocked to silence, but Tuluk went rig"h.t .on. :and that makes it quite certain there's no mistaking the spectral absorption patteIrtn's. a star, all righNt.othing else would give us the same picture."
"But which star?" McKie asked.
"Ahhh, that is the question," Tuluk said.
Cheo pushed Abnethe aside, took her place in the jumpHdeoogr.lanced at Tuluk, at the instruments. "What's all this, McKieA? nother way to interfere with our PalenkOisr? did you come back for a new game of ring-around-your-neck?"
"We've discovered something you might like to know," McKie said.
"What could you discover that would possibly interest me?"
"Tell him, Tuluk," McKie said.
"Fanny Mae exists somehow in intimate association with a stellar mass," Tulu"kShseaimd.ay even be a

stellar mass -- at least as far as our dimension is concerned."
"Not dimension," the Caleban sa"idW. ave."
Her voice barely reached McKie's awareness, but the words were accompanied by a rolling wave of misery that rocked him and set Tuluk to shuddering.
"Wha-wha-what w-w-was th-th-that?" Tuluk managed.
"Easy, easy," McKie cautioneHd.e saw that Cheo had not been touched by that wave of emAot tion. least, the PanSpechi remained impassive.
"We'll have Fanny Mae identified shortly," McKie said.
"Identity," the Caleban said, her communication coming through with more strength but with an icy withdrawal of emotion". Identity refers to unique self-understanding quality as it deals with self-label,
self-abode and self-manifestationsY. your time node."
ou not me hang yet, McKYieo. u hang term yetS?elf-I overstand
"Hang?" Cheo asked, jerking the noose around Abnethe's neck.
"A simple old-fashioned idiom," McKie sa"iId.imagine Mliss gets the hang of it."
"What're you talking about?" Cheo asked.
Tuluk took the question as having been directed to"Ihnimso. me way," he said, "Calebans manifest themselves in our universe as staErsv.ery star has a pulse, a certain unique rhythm, a never-duplicated identity. We have Fanny Mae's pattern recorded noWwe. 're going to run a tracer on that pattern and try to identify her as a star."

"A stupid theory like that is supposed to interest me?" Cheo demanded.
"It had better interest you," McKie s"aIitd's.
more than a theory noYwo. u think you're sitting in a safe
hidey-hole. All you have to do is eliminate Fanny Mae, that's supposed to eliminate our universe and leave you out there the only sentients left atIsaltlh?at it?Ohhh, are you ever wrong."
"Calebans don't lie!" Cheo snarled.
"But I think they can make mistakes," McKie said.
"Proliferation of single-tracks," the Caleban said.
McKie shuddered at the icy wave which accompanied the w"Iofrdws.e discontinue, will Abnethe and her friends still exist?" he asked.
"Different patterns with short limit on extended connectives," the Caleban said.
McKie felt the icy wave invade his stomHaceh.saw that Tuluk was trembling, facial slit opening and closing.
"That was plain enough, wasn't it?" McKie as"kYedo.u'll change somehow, and you won't live very long after us."
"No branchings," the Caleban said.
"No offspring," McKie translated.
"This is a trickC!"heo snarled."She's lying!"

"Calebans don't lie," McKie reminded him.
"But they can make mistakes!"
"The right kind of mistake could ruin everything for you," McKie said.
"I'll take my chances," Cheo sa"iAd.nd you can take . . ."
The jumpdoor winked out of existence.
"S'eye alignment difficult," the Caleban sa"iYd.ou hang difficult?More intense energy requirement reference. You hang?"
"I understand," McKie sai"dI. hang."He mopped his forehead with a sleeve.
Tuluk extended his long mandible, waved it agitate"dCloyl.d," he said". Cold-cold-cold-cold."
"I think she's holding on by a thin thread," McKie said.
Tuluk's torso rippled as he inhaled a deep breath into his outer trio o"Sf hlaulnl gws.e take our records back to the lab?" he asked.
"A stellar mass," McKie muttere"dIm. agine it.And all we see here is this . . . this bit of nothing."
"Not put something here," the Caleban s"aSide.lf-I put something here and uncreate yMouc.Kie discontinues in presence of I-self."

"Do you hang that, Tuluk?" McKie asked.
"Hang?Oh, yes.She seems to be saying that she can't make herself visible to us because that'd kill us."
"That's the way I read it," McKie
"saLiedt.'s get back and start that comparison search."
"You expend substance without purpose," the Caleban said.
"What now?" McKie asked.
"Flogging approaches, and I-self discontinue," the Caleban said. McKie put down a fit of trembl"inHgo.w far away, Fanny Mae?" "Time reference by single-track difficult, McKYieo.ur term:soon." "Right away?"McKie asked and he held his breath.
"Ask you of intensity immediate?" the Caleban inquired.
"Probably," McKie whispered.
"Probability," the Caleban sai"dE. nergy necessity of self-I extends alignmeFnlto. gging not . . . immediate."

"Soon, but not right away," Tuluk said.
"She's telling us she can take one more flogging and that's the last one," Mc"KLieet'ssamido.ve.Fanny
Mae, is there a jumpdoor available to us?"
"Available, McKieG. o with love."
One more flogging, McKie thought as he helped Tuluk gather up the instrBumutenwtsh.y was a flogging so deadly to the CalebanW? hy a flogging, when other energy forms apparently didn't touch them?
The most common use of abstraction is to conceal contradicIttiomnsu.st be noted that the abstracting process has been demonstrated to be infinite.
-Culture Lag, an unpublished work by Jorj X. McKie
At some indeterminate moment, and that soon, the Caleban was going to be lashed by a whip, and it would die.The half-mad possibility was about to become apocalyptic reality, and their sentient universe would end.

McKie stood disconsolately in Tuluk's personal lab, intensely aware of the mob of enforcer guards around, them.
"Go with love."
The computer console above Tuluk's position at the bench flickered and chittered.
Even if they identified Fanny Mae's star, what could they do with that new knowledge? McKie asked himself. Cheo was going to wiTn.hey couldn't stop him.
"Is it possible," Tuluk asked, "that the Calebans created this uniIvsertshei?s their 'garden patchI'?keep remembering Fanny Mae saying it would uncreate us to be in her presence."
He leaned against his bench, mandibles withdrawn, face slit open just enough to permit him to speak.
"Why's the damn computer taking so long?" McKie demanded.
"The pulse problem's very complicated, McKTihe.e comparison required special programminYg.ou haven't answered my question."
"I don't have an answeIr!hope those numbies we left in the Beachball know what to do."
"They'll do what you told them to do," Tuluk ch"Yidoeud.'re a strange sentient, McKiIe'm. been married more than fifty timIess. it a breach of good manners to discuss this?"
told you've
"I never found a woman who could put up with a Saboteur Extraordinary," McKie m"Wutete'rreed. hard creatures to love."

"Yet the Caleban loves you."
"She doesn't know what we mean by loHve "shook his head".I should've stayed at the Beachball."
"Our people will interpose their own bodies between the Caleban and any attacks," Tu"luWkousaldid. you call that love?"
"That's self-preservation," McKie snarled.
"It's a Wreave belief that all love is a form of self-preservation," Tul"uPkershaaipds. Caleban understands."
"Hah!"
this is what our
"It's a probability, McKie, that you've never been overly concerned about self-preservation, thus have never really loved."
"Look!Would you stop trying to distract me with your babbling nonsense?"
"Patience, McKieP. atience."
"Patience, he says!"
McKie jerked himself into motion, paced the length of the lab, the guardian enforcers dodging out of his
way. He returned to Tuluk, stoope"dW.
hat do stars feed on?"
"Stars?Stars don't feed."

"She inhales something here, and she feeds here," McKie mutHteeredn.odded."Hydrogen."
"What's this?"
"Hydrogen," McKie repeated".If we opened a big enough jumpdoor. W. h. e.re's Bildoon?"
"He's conferring with the Consent representative over our high-handed actions in quarantining the Beautybarbers. It's also a distinct possibility that our dealings with the Taprisiots have leaked out. Governments do not like this sort of action, McBKiiled.oon is trying to save your skin and his own."
"But there's plenty of hydrogen," McKie said. "What is this of jumpdoors and hydrogen?" "Feed a cold and starve a fever," McKie said.
"You are not making sense, McKDieid!
you take your angeret and normalizers?"
"I took 'em!"
The computer's readout chamber made a chewing sound, spewed forth a quadruple line of glowing characters which danced in the chamber and resolved themselves into legible arrangeMmecnKtsi.e read
the message.
"Thyone," Tuluk said, reading over his shoulder.

"A star in the Pleiades," McKie said.
"We call it Drnlle," Tuluk sa"iSde.e the Wreave characters in the third roDwrn?lle."
"Any doubt of this identification?"
"You joke."
"Bildoon!" McKie hissed".We have to try it!"
He spun around, pounded out of the lab, dodged through Tuluk's assistants in the oTutuelrukarea. darted in his wake, drawing their enforcer guardians into a thin line close behind.
"McKie!"Tuluk called."Where are you going?"
"To Bildoon . . . then back to Fanny Mae."

The value of self government at an individual level cannot be overestimated.
-BuSab Manual
Nothing could stop him now, Cheo told himself.
Mliss could die in a few, minutes, deprived of air in the Beautybarber tank where he'd conTfhineed her. others on their refuge world would have to follow him,Htheenw.ould control the S'eye and the threads
of power.
Cheo stood in his quarters with the S'eye controls near atIt hwanads. night outside, but all things remained relative, he reminded himselDf.awn would be breaking soon where the Caleban's Beachball rested above the surf on Cordiality.
The Caleban's ultimate dawn . . . the dawn of ultimate disconTtihnautityd.awn would slip into eternal night on all the planets which shared a universe with the doomed Caleban.
In just a few minutes, this planet-of-the-past where he stood would reach its point of proper connectives with Cordiality.And the Palenki waiting across the room there would do what it had been commanded to do.
Cheo rubbed the scars on his forehead.
There'd be no more PanSpechi then to point accusing fingers at him, to call him with ghostly voices. Never again would there be a threat to the ego which he had secured to himself.
No one could stop him.
Mliss could never come back from death to stopSheimm. ust be gasping in the sealed tank by now,

straining for the oxygen which did not exist there.
And that stupid McKiTe!he Saboteur Extraordinary had proved to be elusive and annoying, but no way remained for him to stop the apocalypse.
Just a few more minutes now.
Cheo looked at the reference dials on the S'eye conTthroelys. moved so slowly it was difficult to detect any change while you kept your eyes on thBeumt .they moved.
He crossed to the open doors onto the balcony, drew a questioning stare from the Palenki, and stepped outside. There was no moon, but many stars shone in patterns alien to a PanMSpliescshih. ad ordered a
strange world here with its bits of ancient history from her Terran past, its odds and ends of esoterica culled from the ages.
Those stars, nowT. he Caleban had assured them no other planets existed here . . . yet there were stars. If those were starsP.erhaps they were only bits of glowing gas arranged in the patterns Mliss had requested.
It would be a lonely place here after the other universe was gone, Cheo Arenadliztehde.re would be no escaping those starry patterns, reminders of Mliss.
But it would be safe heNreo. pursuit, because there would be no pursuers.
He glanced back into the lighted room.
How patiently the Palenki waited, eyes lidded, motionTlehses. whip dangled limply from its single hand.
Crazy anachronism of a weaponB!ut it workedW.
ithout that wild conjunction of Mliss and her kinky
desires, they would never have discovered the thing about the weapon, never have found this world and the way to isolate it forever.

Cheo savored the thought of forevTehr.at was a very tong timTeo.o long, perhapsT. he thought disturbed him.Loneliness . . . forever.
He cut off these thoughts, looked once more at the S'eyeThdeialpso. inters had moved a hair closer to the curtained momentT. hey would coincide presently.
Not looking at the pointers, not looking anywhere, really, Cheo wNaiigtehdt .on the balcony was full of
the odors Mliss had gathered-exotic blooms, scents and mucks of rare life forms, exhalations of a myriad species she had brought to share her Ark.
Ark.That was an odd name she'd given this pPlaecreh.aps he'd change that . . . laCterre.che? No! That carried painful reminders.
Why were there no other planehtse? wondered.Surely the Caleban could have provided other planets. But Mliss had not ordered them created.
Only the thinnest of lines separated the pointers on the S'eye dials.
Cheo went back into the room, called the Palenki.
The squat turtle shape stirred itself to action, came to Cheo'Tshseidteh.ing looked eagerP.alenkis enjoyed violence.
Cheo felt suddenly empty, but there was no turning Hbeackp.ut his hands to the controls -- humanoid hands. They would remind him of Mliss, tHooe. turned a knobI.t felt oddly alien beneath his fingers, but he stifled all uneasiness, all regrets, concentrated on the pointers.
They flowed into each other, and he opened the jumpdoor.
"Now!" he commanded.

If words are your symbols of reality, you live in a dream world.
-Wreave Saying
McKie heard the PanSpechi's shouted command as the jumpdoor's vortal tube leaped into existence within the BeachballT. he opening dominated the room, filled the purple gloom with brightThlieghlti.ght
came from behind two figures revealed by the openainPga: lenki and the PanSpechi, Cheo.
The vortal tube began swelling to dangerous dimensions within the confinedWroilodme.nergies around
its rim hurled enforcer guardians asidBee.fore they could recover, the Palenki arm thrust into the room, lashed out with its whip.
McKie gasped at the shower of green and golden sparks around the CGaolelbdaen! Again the whip struck. More sparks glittered, fell, shimmered into nothingness.
"Hold!"McKie shouted as the enforcers recovered and moved to atHtaeckw. anted no more casualties from a closing jumpdoorT.he enforcers hesitated.

Once more the Palenki lashed out with its whip.
Sparks glowed, fell.
"Fanny Mae!" McKie called.
"I reply," the Caleban saMid.cKie felt the abrupt rise in temperature, but the emotion with the words was calm and soothing . . . and powerful.
The enforcers jittered, their attention darting from McKie to the area where the Palenki arm continued its vicious play with the whiEp.ach stroke sent a shower of golden sparks into the room.
"Tell me of your substance, Fanny Mae," McKie said.
"My substance grows," the Caleban sa"iYd.ou bring me energy and goodneIss.return love for love and love for hateY. ou give me strength for this, McKie."
"Tell me of discontinuity," McKie said.
"Discontinuity withdraws!"There was definite elation in the Caleban's wo"rIdsd. o not see node of connectives for discontinuity!My companions shall return in love."
McKie inhaled a deep breaItht .was workingB. ut each new flow of Caleban words brought its blast from the furnaceT. hat, too, spoke of succesHs.e mopped his forehead.
The whip continued to rise and fall.
"Give up, Cheo!" McKie calle"dY.ou've lost!"He peered up through the jumpdoo"Wr. e're feeding her

faster than you can rob her of substance."
Cheo barked an order to the PaleAnkrmi.
and whip withdrew.
"Fanny Mae!" the PanSpechi called.
There was no answer, but McKie sensed a wave of pity.
Does she pity Cheo? McKie wondered.
"I command you to answer me, Caleban!" Cheo ro"aYreodu.r control orders you to obey!"
"I obey holder of contract only," the Caleban "sYaiodu.
share no connectives with holder of contract."
"She ordered you to obey me!"
McKie held his breath, watching, waiting for his moment
Itot macuts. t be done with precisioTnh.e
Caleban had been lucidly clear about that -- for oTnhceere.
could be little doubt of the communication.
"Abnethe gathers lines of her world into herseTlhf.a"t was what Fanny Mae had said, and the meaning seemed clear.When Fanny Mae summoned Abnethe . . . a sacrifice must beAmbnadeteh.e had to die, and her world would die with her.
"Your contract!" Cheo insisted.
"Contract declines of intensity," the Caleban s"aOidn. Name of love I receive from McKTihe:yone."
this new track you must address me as Thyone.
"McKie, what have you done?" Cheo demandHeed. poised his fingers over the S'eye contr"oWlsh. y doesn't she respond to the whipping?"

"She never really did respond to the whippings," McKie"Ssahied.responded to the violence and hate that went with themT.he whip served only as a peculiar kind of focusing instruImt epnutt. all the violence and hate into a single vulnerable . . ."
". . . node," the Caleban s"aVidu.lnerable node."
"And that robbed her of energy." McKie
"saSihde.
manufactures emotion with her energy, you know.
That requires a lot of eatinSgh.e's almost pure emotion, pure creation, and that's how the universe goes, Cheo."
Where was Abnethe? McKie wondered.
Cheo motioned to the Palenki, hesitated as McKie said, "It's no useW, Ce'hreof.eeding her faster than you can drain her."
"Feeding her?"Cheo bent his scarred head forward to peer at McKie.
"We've opened a giant jumpdoor in space," McKie "sIat'isd.gathering free hydrogen and feeding it directly into Thyone."
"What is this . . . Thyone?" Cheo demanded. "The star that is a Caleban," McKie said. "What are you talking about?"
"Haven't you guessed?" McKie askeHde.
gave a subtle hand signal to the enforAcebrns.ethe still hadn't
shown up.Perhaps Cheo had confined her someplacTeh.at changed things to the contingency plTanhe. y

were going to have to try getting a sentient through the jumpdoor.
The enforcers, responding to his signal, began moving closer to the opEeancihngh. eld a raygen ready.
"Guessed what?"Cheo asked.
I have to keep him distracted, McKie thought.
"Calebans manifest themselves in our universe several ways," he"Tsahiedy.'re stars, suns -- which may really be feeding orificesT.hey've created these Beachballs -- which are probably intended as much to protect us as they are to house the speaking manifestaEtivoenn. with the Beachball's damping force, they can't hold back all the radiant energy of their spTeehcaht'.s why it gets so hot in here."
McKie glanced at his ring of enforcTehrse.y were moving closer and closer to the jumpdTohoarn. k all the gods of space that Cheo had made the opening so large!
"Stars?" Cheo asked.
"This particular Caleban has been identified," McKie
"sSaihde.'s Thyone in the Pleiades."
"But . . . the S'eye effect . . ."
"Star-eyes," McKie said".At least, that's how I interpretI'mit. probably only partly right, but Thyone here admits she and her kind suspected the truth during their first attempts at communication."
Cheo moved his head slowly from side to "sTidhe jumpdoors . . ."
"Star-powered," McKie said".We've known from the first they required stellar energies to breach space that way.The Taprisiots gave us a clue when they spoke of embedments and crossing Caleban

connectives to . . ."
"You talk nonsense," Cheo growled.
"Undoubtedly," McKie agreed".But it's a nonsense that moves reality in our universe."
"You think you distract me while your companions prepare to attack," Che"oI wsaiilld.now show you another reality in your universeH!"e twisted the jumpdoor controls.
"Thyone!" McKie shouted.
The jumpdoor's opening began moving toward McKie.
"I reply to McKie," the Caleban said.
"Stop Cheo," McKie sai"dC. onfine him."
"Cheo confines himself," the Caleban sa"iCdh. eo discontinues connectives."
The jumpdoor continued moving toward McKie, but he saw that Cheo appeared to be having trouble
with the controlsM.
cKie moved aside as the opening passed through the space where he had been.
"Stop him!" McKie called.
"Cheo stops himself," the Caleban said.
McKie sensed a definite wave of compassion with the words.

The jumpdoor opening turned on its axis, advanced once more on MIt cmKoiev.ed a bit faster this time.
McKie dodged aside, scattering enforceWrs.hy weren't the damned fools trying to get through the opening? Afraid of being cut upH?e steeled himself to dive through the opening on the nextChpeasos. had been conditioned to the thought of fear nHoew.wouldn't expect attack from someone who feared
him. McKie swallowed in a dry throHate.
knew what would happen to hTimh.e molasses delay in the
vortal tube would give Cheo just enough tiMmec.Kie would lose both legs -- at the very
Hleea'sdt. get
through with a raygen, though, and Cheo wouldGdiivee. n any luck, Abnethe could be found -- and she'd die, too.
Again the jumpdoor plunged toward McKie.
He leaped, collided with an enforcer who had chosen the same instant toThaettyacskp.rawled on hands and knees as the vortal tube slipped over them.
McKie saw Cheo's gloating face, the hand jerking at the coHnteroslsa.w a control arm snap over, heard a distant crackling as the jumpdoor ceased to exist.
Someone screamed.
McKie felt himself considerably surprised to be still on hands and knees in the purple gloom of the
Beachball's interior.He held his position, allowed his memory to replay that last glimpse oIft Chhaedo. been a ghostly vision, a smoky substance visible through the PanSpechi's body -- and the visible substance had been that of the Beachball's interior.
"Discontinuity dissolves contract," the Caleban said.
McKie climbed slowly to his fe"eWt.hat's that mean, Thyone?"

"Statement of fact with meaning intensity-truth only for Cheo and companions," the Caleb"aSnelfsaid. cannot give meaning to McKie for substance of another."
McKie nodded.
"That universe of Abnethe's was her own creation," he murm"Aurefdig. ment of her imagination."
"Explain figment," the Caleban said.
Cheo experienced the instant of Abnethe's death as a gradual dissolution of substance around and within him. Walls, floor, S'eye controls, ceiling, world -- everything faded into nonbHeeingfe.lt all the haste of
his existence swollen into one sterile instaAnnt.d he found himself for a transitory moment sharing with the shadows of the nearby Palenki and other more distant islands of movement a place of existence which the mystics of his own species had never contemplIattewda. s, however, a place which an ancient
Hindu or a Buddhist might have recognized -- a place of Maya, illusion, a formless void possessed of no qualities.
The moment passed abruptly, and Cheo ceased to eOxrisitt.
could be said that he discontinued in
becoming one with the void-illusioOn.ne cannot, after all, breathe an illusion or a void.