McIntosh, J. T. - Poor PlanetPOOR PLANET J. T. McIntosh I never was the tough he-man lady-killer type of spy, even when I was a lot younger. On the very rare occasions when beautiful girls enticed me into their bedrooms on exotic worlds, the whole operation was only too obviously designed to find out what I’d found out, and the lovely ladies in question not only knew that I knew it, but knew that I knew that they knew it—which tended to remove much of the glamor from the situation, and all the sex. And by the time I landed at Arneville, capital of the planet Solitaire, to try to solve the enigma of a world that ought to be rich but wasn’t, I was still less tough, still less of a he-man, than I had been when I was a mere stripling of thirty-five or forty. By the time I reached Arneville I was forty-eight, married, with three adolescent children. Terran Intelligence had only managed to talk me into going, and Phyllis into letting me go, because I was a historian and the job needed a genuine historian, and because intelligence agents hardly ever failed to return from Solitaire (so named because it was the only planet of its sun). Solitaire let them come, let them sniff around for a while, and let them go, none the wiser. Occasionally, it was true, agents did not come back. Presumably they’d found out something. But the mortality rate was not high —and Phyllis is a soldier’s daughter, complete with stiff upper lip. The first thing I noticed when I emerged from Arneville spaceport was that it was a cold city. (The fact that I knew this already, having done my homework, did not prevent me from noticing it.) Although the city wasn’t bitingly, grindingly cold, it was never far above freezing-point. The previous night’s snow was melting as I arrived and crashing in powdery avalanches from the roofs. The overhangs were constructed so that all this soft snow cascaded into the streets, missing the sidewalks. The people hurrying about didn’t even look up. The next thing I noticed about Arneville was that it was old-fashioned. It was like a twentieth or even nineteenth century Earth city transported many light-years and four centuries to Solitaire. The buildings, vehicles and clothes I saw were all heavy and solid and stolid, with not a hint of frivolity about any of them. Things on Solitaire were made to last, and last, and last. I had got this far in my observations as I emerged from the spaceport and looked about me when a man came up to me. “Mr. Edwin Horsefeld, from Earth?” the stranger asked diffidently. ‘Yes,“ I said, looking at him. He was the oldest teenager I had ever seen, with the bland innocent fresh-faced look of a kid of fourteen although he must have been thirty-five at least. He was enthusiastic, shy, intense, determined to do his job well. Naturally he must be a counter-espionage agent. ‘I’m Tom Harrison,“ he said eagerly. ”I’ve been asked to contact you and give you any help I can—“ ‘By whom?“ I asked pleasantly. ‘Some government department… F.R.S., I think it was.“ My opinion of Solitaire’s counter-espionage division, quaintly named Foreign Relations Security, went up several points. You had to admire a department that told you it knew you were a spy and offered to help you. But then, Solitaire’s counter-espionage division must be good. Every other planet in the galaxy, convinced Solitaire had a secret of some kind, had been trying for a long time to find out what it was—and Terran Intelligence would have known if any of them had succeeded, even if it didn’t know exactly what they had found out. We could all guess about Solitaire. None of us knew. ‘Pleased to meet you, Mr. Harrison,“ I said, shaking hands. ”Are you a historian?“ ‘No, why?“ ‘It doesn’t matter. Just an idea.“ ‘I’m sorry, Mr. Horsefeld. I guess I can’t help you in your work… but I can tell you about libraries, hotels, stores—“ ‘That will be very useful. Hotels first. Where do you suggest I should go?“ Harrison hesitated. “They told me you’d probably want peace and quiet, a room in a decent, modest hotel where nobody would bother you. Is that right?” ‘Exactly right.“ ‘Then maybe you’d like to go to Parkview. It’s cheap, clean—“ ‘Fine. Let’s go to the Parkview.“ I was perfectly happy to let Solitaire’s counter-espionage division put me where it liked. It would do that anyway. Harrison took me to the Parkview, a small inn just off Arne Way, the main street in the city. Then, to my surprise, Harrison seemed not only ready but apologetically anxious to leave me. I’d expected the devil’s own job getting out of his sight. ‘You can phone me either at Government House or at home,“ he said, giving me both numbers. ‘Just one thing before you go, Tom—may I call you Tom? Where’s the nearest music store?“ ‘Music?“ he said vaguely, as if he had never heard the word. ”Oh, I guess… you could try Prosser’s, just round the corner in Arne Way. I think they sell music as well as books.“ ‘Excellent,“ I said. ”That saves me the trouble of asking you where the nearest bookstore is. Thanks, Tom.“ ‘That’s all I can do for you just now?“ ‘I think so. You’ve been a great help.“ He colored. “It’s nothing,” he said self-consciously. “I’ll look in this evening and see how you’re making out.” Then he left. F.R.S. had informed me politely that it knew who I was, that it had its eye on me, and then left me to wander about Arneville as I pleased. It might as well have told me in so many words that I wasn’t going to find out anything. Lunch at the Parkview was excellent. But why the Parkview, I wondered. I’d heard of Arne Park, which was about the only thing in Solitaire most people had heard about. The Park must, however, be at least a mile along Arne Way and was not visible even from my top-floor bedroom. Nothing in that direction was visible except the blank wall of a massive office block. If Solitaire had nothing to hide, I reflected, which was unlikely but not completely impossible, a known Terran spy might well be treated exactly as I was being treated. An intelligent counter-espionage division in a world which had no secrets—if there was any such world— would realize that the only way to convince other nations of this was to let them find it out for themselves. After lunch I strolled round to Prosser’s. By this time most of the snow was brown slush. It was just as well, I reflected, looking at the people in the streets, that I was forty-eight and no longer interested in girls. For there seemed no prospect of ever seeing a pretty girl in Arneville, at any rate a girl looking pretty. In boots, heavy coats and fur hoods, with faces pinched by the cold, women of sixteen, thirty-six and fifty-six looked much the same. None of them seemed to wear makeup, and since heating in most buildings was only moderately efficient, heavy, unattractive clothes were worn inside as well as out. The young lady in Prosser’s, who might have been attractive if she tried, didn’t seem to be trying. On top of a dress which was all right in itself she wore an assortment of woolen jackets in various colors and shapes. None of the latter coincided with hers. ‘Opera?“ she said. ”You must mean The Arne Story. That’s the only opera I know.“ ‘That’s it,“ I said. ‘A score? That’s the words and music, isn’t it? You want to buy a copy?“ ‘An original copy, if possible.“ She went away and returned, after an interminable delay, with a paper-covered score. I looked at the date. It was a new edition published only the year before. When I tried patiently to explain that what I really wanted was a copy of this opera printed a long time ago, she stared blankly and then brought a small, bald knowledgeable man to talk to me. ‘Yes, this is & revised edition, sir,“ he agreed’. ”Quite extensively revised. You’re a foreigner, I take it? Yes, I thought so. You see, since there’s only one native opera, and such a great masterpiece at that, it’s constantly being revised and improved. I believe the original version of The Arne Story was quite different from the version that’s performed now—“ ‘So I understand. That’s why I’d like to see the original.“ ‘You could try a library. Or—maybe there would be an old copy at Jerome’s. It’s a little place that keeps a lot of old . … musical instruments and things like that.“ The little knowledgeable man gave me detailed directions, and I trudged through the snow again along streets, which became narrower and shorter and dimmer. I might almost have been in Dickens’s London. At last I found Jerome’s, which proved to be a tiny shop with a minute window offering a keyhole view of a startling variety of cornets, trumpets, trombones and mutes. I pushed the door open, stooping to enter, and blinked at the girl in charge. She was the last, positively the last thing I expected in a place like Jerome’s, in a city like Arneville, on a planet like Solitaire. She was very young, a nymphet, very pretty, and she was quite smartly dressed. ‘Good afternoon,“ she said,smiling pleasantly. ‘Five minutes ago,“ I said, ”I didn’t think so. But now I see it is.“ She laughed, being young enough to take naive delight in a frank, sincere compliment. It could only have been a matter of months since men started to pay her compliments; it might be years yet before experience taught her to look gift horses in the mouth. She was a small brunette with the kind of slim, flawless twinkling legs which only nymphets possess. Above the legs was a short black skirt, and above the skirt a tight white blouse. Above the blouse was a pert, pretty little face which could have passed for se face of a beautiful child if her fully, though recently, enveloped contours had not been visible. ‘I wonder if you have an original score of The Arne Story?“ I asked. ‘You don’t want much, do you? It’s over two hundred years old. What are you smiling at?“ ‘You said that as if I’d asked for the Ark’s sailing-list in Noah’s own handwriting.“ She laughed again. And I thought, in italics: If this lovely little creature really has been placed here by F.R.S., I’m going to enjoy being led up the garden path. ‘Perhaps, if not an original,“ I said, ”you might have an early edition?“ ‘Well, if you’d like to stick around for about three hours while I inspect the stock,“ she said briskly, ”I might turn up something.“ ‘It would be a pleasure,“ I said courteously, ”to stick around.“ It was. It really did take nearly three hours—the little shop had so many things in such a small space that it was necessary to shift half the stock in order to get at the other half. I soon learned the girl’s name—Terry Wood —that her father was alive and her mother dead, that she had no brothers or sisters, that she had a passion for adventure, and that she didn’t think I looked very old. We couldn’t help becoming better acquainted, for I had to hold instrument cases for her and move piles of music and stack boxes which she handed down to me. Apparently there was never any rush in Arneville shops; if a purchaser wanted something and you might have it, you thought nothing of spending an hour or two over a two-dollar sale that might not materialize anyway. Certainly Terry was not exactly off her feet. During the time she was searching for the score, there was just one customer, a reedy youth who wanted a clarinet reed. The pleasure with which I examined Terry’s pretty legs clear to the hips as she climbed ladders was neither guilty nor carnal. I had a daughter just Terry’s age, and I told her so. Before Terry at last triumphantly produced a fourth edition score of the opera, dated only three years after the first performance, we had arranged to go together to the opera house that night to see the contemporary The Arne Story. Despite the ease with which this was arranged, I rejected for the moment the possibility that Terry had been planted in Jerome’s by F.R.S. For one thing, her knowledge of the stock was remarkable, considering how much of it there was. For another, if F.R.S. had guessed that I would want an early edition of The Arne Story and had arranged for me to be directed to Jerome’s, they must be even cleverer than I thought them. In the early evening, before I set out for the opera house, Harrison called to see me. He glanced blankly at the yellowed score lying unopened on the bed. “The Arne Story—two hundred years old!” he said. “What do you want that for?” ‘As a historian,“ I said, ”my curiosity is boundless.“ Harrison looked at me uncertainly. “Oh, well. I guess you know your business. Is there any way I can help you?” ‘Where,“ I asked, ”does one take a girl after the theater?“ Harrison didn’t seem to have heard of anyone taking a girl to the theater. He was, I suspected, overacting. Nobody set on me by F.R.S. could be that dim. ‘I guess you could bring her back here,“ he said at last, with a mediocre attempt at a leer. ‘That’s not what I mean. When one takes a girl to a show in Arneville, isn’t there anywhere to go afterwards?“ ‘Only the Park.“ ‘The Park! To sit holding hands in the snow?“ Harrison blinked. “I meant Arne Park… oh, I guess you wouldn’t know. It’s covered in, heated, and it stretches for miles. It’s sort of a summer playground. Night and day.” I should have done my homework better. I knew Arne Park was the showplace of the planet, but I hadn’t heard that it was totally enclosed. Vaguely I had imagined a few large hothouses and vast stretches of winter wonderland. ‘Thanks, Tom. Maybe we’ll take a look at the Park. But not by night, the first time. By the way, have you any idea why this place is called the Parkview?“ ‘Well… I guess it might have been possible to see the Park from here before that office block was built. There are lots of hotels with names like that, you know —Park Hotel, Park Arms, Park Inn, Newpark, High-park…“ ‘Between Park and Arne you’ve got all the names you need,“ I commented. ‘Well, Henry Arne was our first premier.“ ‘Yes, Tom,“ I said gently. ”I know.“ Harrison tried to be helpful for a few minutes more, and then left. I’d never met anyone connected with spying as uninterested in asking questions. Terry arrived at the opera house only a few seconds after I did. “Am I late?” she asked breathlessly. ‘You’re the only girl I ever knew who wasn’t,“ I said. ”Oh, but I’m not sophisticated,“ she admitted. ”I’m glad you told me. Here I was thinking you were a bored, blase, langorous woman of the world—“ ‘Don’t pull my leg,“ she said fiercely. ”I don’t like it.“ So she had a temper. It was a surprise. In the shop that afternoon nothing I had said ruffled her, and when piles of music cascaded on the floor she merely shrugged resignedly. When she hurried away to the ladies’ room I had an opportunity to ponder over the momentary flash of temper and what it meant. I was soon able to make a pretty good guess. Agents of my type do not move in an atmosphere of blazing guns, flailing fists, exploded safes and chases in fast cars. Rarely had I been in the thick of violent action. I work by keeping my eyes and ears open and fixing on small things that don’t seem to fit—like a sudden flash of irritation in a sunny-tempered girl… The theater was old and dark and massive. If it had only had gas instead of electricity, it would have been a Victorian opera house. I call it a theater and an opera house indiscriminately because the locals do the same. When opera is being performed, it’s the opera house. When it’s drama or vaudeville, it’s a theater. The cloakrooms were far more extensive and elaborate than in Terran theaters. Since you couldn’t sit in a theater and go outside clad the same way anyway, the custom was to make a complete transformation. Terry came out hesitantly, and not without reason. She wore an ankle-length black satin gown, not particularly revealing, but of a type and cut which on all worlds tacitly proclaims the wearer’s profession. If I hadn’t known already that Terry’s mother was dead and that she had no sisters, that dress would have told me. As she waited for me to say something, I had an opportunity to check on my guess. In the afternoon, nothing could ruffle her. In the evening, as she arrived for a date she might be expected to enjoy, the gentlest leg-pulling made her snap back. It didn’t take a genius to deduce that something had happened in between. Now, what? Row with boyfriend when Terry insisted she was going anyway, so there? Row with Dad when she appeared in dress of which Dad did not approve? My guess was: row with Dad, but not over dress. I didn’t take the opportunity. Terry was inexperienced but intelligent. You couldn’t pump her without letting her see she was being pumped. ‘You look lovely,“ I said. And in a way she did. Even in that dress. She blushed, pleased. I took her in, my gentle touch on her bare arm intended to remind her that I could be her grandfather, very nearly her great-grandfather. It shouldn’t have been necessary… but then, she had no mother, and seemed to spend her time working in a shop which only had two customers in three hours. In experience she wasn’t exactly as old as time. The opera astonished me. First, it was good, which was odd: opera needs a tradition, and while one of a hundred Italian operas may be a masterpiece, you don’t expect much of the only opera native to a planet. I’d expected a sort of Beggars’ Opera, not a patriotic piece with a strong plot, good dialogue (almost unique in opera), some first-class ballet, fair music (the music was weakest) and really fervent acting. At the first interval I told Terry how impressed I was, and she was pleased. The second half was a slight disappointment. The patriotism started high and finished in a frenzy, too idealistic even for opera. The characterization, good at first, fell apart a little when character after character revealed not only impossible patriotism, but the same impossible patriotism. The hero, Henry Arne—the Arne who had been Solitaire’s first premier—first sacrificed his love of the heroine to Solitaire, and later her life. The opera was so long, and finished so late, that there was little question of going anywhere afterwards, though we had coffee at the theater before I took Terry home. I was surprised to find that she agreed with me completely about the opera. ‘Dying for love is a beautiful idea,“ she said, ”but dying for a country is crazy, and sacrificing the girl you love for your world is crazier, and whenever it comes to that bit I want to be sick.“ ‘You’ve seen it often?“ ‘Not often. Four or five times. They send us from school to see it.“ ‘You don’t sound particularly patriotic, Terry,“ I said lazily. ‘I’m not,“ she admitted frankly. ”Oh, if I’d a chance to do something wonderful and romantic and exciting for Solitaire, like…“ She blushed and broke off in confusion. ‘Like what, Terry,“ I asked, smiling. ‘Anyway, if I’d a chance to do anything like that, I’d do it like a shot. But dying for an ideal…“ She went on for quite a while, and I listened. Presently I said quietly: “And you’re allowed to get away with that?” ‘What do you mean?“ ‘In most countries and worlds where nationalism is deliberately cultivated, whipped up by propaganda and pieces like The Arne Story, people who talk as you’ve just been doing are liable to… disappear.“ Terry laughed, at least she started to laugh. Then she looked at me, startled, doubtful, and for a moment I genuinely wished I had not pricked her to see what she would happen. ‘Take me home,“ she said suddenly, breathlessly. ”I… I have to start early tomorrow.“ I took her home. Next morning after breakfast I went back to my room and had a quick glance through the fourth edition of The Arne Story. The broad outlines of the opera had not changed. A good deal of music was different, and my guess was that the later music was better. Presumably composers in the last two centuries had been encouraged to improve on the original settings if they could. On the whole the opera had improved a great deal in its two centuries of existence. The early version was crude, rough, even more implausible than the contemporary version. But the interesting thing about the comparison was that all the changes were designed to make the opera better and more effective patriotic propaganda. And it had been a propaganda piece in the first place. I pushed the score aside and put my feet up. Later I’d compare the two versions of the opera for my own purposes. Meantime I was here to find out something, and I didn’t think The Arne Story in versions of ancient or modern could tell me much more than it already had. The problem was simple. Solitaire had been colonized nearly three centuries earlier. It had never been a particularly attractive world, but its deposits of oil, coal, steel, diamonds, silver and platinum were at least average. Within fifty years there had been a population of nearly a hundred million. So far so good. Now, over two hundred years later, the population was two hundred million and Solitaire was about the most backward world in the galaxy, with the lowest relative standard of living. (Terry’s weekly wage, which she had mentioned when we were discussing Solitaire and Earth, would just about pay for a meal in a New York hotel. And my weekly bill at the Parkview was less than I’d pay to stay one night at the same hotel.) Why? Solitaire issued no statistics, and all figures were therefore guesses. Other worlds, however, had figures showing that emigration from Solitaire was negligible. So why was the population (estimated) so low? Why was the planet so apparently poor? Why only a trickle of exports? What was Solitaire up to? The question of a Solitaire secret arose only because agents sent to investigate the world on the spot either came back with nothing to report or didn’t come back at all. Only a few failed to return—but why should there be any spy casualties on a world which had nothing to hide? Secret wasn’t the right word to apply to the affairs of Solitaire. Uncertain was better. Even the precise form of government was uncertain, not because of the kind of iron wall you find in an out-and-out police state, but because hardly anyone seemed to know anything for sure. Although Solitaire was known to have a senate and a premier at its head, less was known of the present premier than of the first… Hence the appearance on the scene of me, Edwin Horsefeld, with one or two tricks up my sleeve. These days spies needed a gimmick more than nerve or brawn. Having thought for a while I went to the library and found out all I could there. It took me only an hour and a half, and I didn’t think I’d missed much of importance. The library contained only eight thousand books that had been written and published in the whole of Solitaire. Eight thousand in over two hundred years. The rest were reprints of standard texts obtainable anywhere in the galaxy. Of the eight thousand, four thousand were novels. Three thousand dealt with the natural lore of the planet geography, geology, exploration, fauna and flora. That left me one thousand miscellaneous books to include all the social history, biography, poetry, essays, research, philosophy and psychology of a settlement nearly three centuries old. It wasn’t much. In the afternoon I met Terry, by arrangement, and let her take me to the Park. It was her afternoon off. The moment I saw her I knew that once again something had happened between our meetings. I hoped it wasn’t that both times she’d seen her boyfriend—so attractive a girl, however young, simply must have a steady boyfriend, or at least someone who imagined he was—and had now sent him packing, convinced she was in love with me. I thought Terry was too steady and sensible for that, and yet there was no denying that everything I had told her about Earth had seemed to fascinate her and that she already seemed to consider me as something much more than just an elderly male acquaintance. Although she was evidently going to tell me something that she considered of immense importance, she stuck to trivialities until we were inside the Park. The dome over the Park was larger than anything on Mars, coated to reflect as little light as possible, and scarcely visible as domes go. Inside was a vast, well-planned, well-maintained garden, warm as July in the northern hemisphere of Earth, cooled and aired by soft breezes. And this is a city where it snowed all the year round. As I waited for Terry, who was hanging up her coat in the pavilion, I thought: Terran Intelligence should know more about Arne Park. Anything as untypical of its world as Arne Park is of Solitaire is worth a lot of attention. There must be a reason for the Park. Apparently other agents had merely looked at it, said “Very impressive,” and taken their cloaks and daggers elsewhere. Well, maybe I was doing them an injustice. Nevertheless, the thought lingered: On a world like this, in a city like this, there must be a reason for such a vast, expensive, man-made miracle. Terry joined me and I saw the reason for the Park. It was a place for her to wear her yellow playsuit, a neat little confection that fitted her as if she’d been born wearing it. After the dreadful unsuitability of her appearance the night before, it was a relief to find her looking like any pretty sun-loving teenager. ‘Aren’t you going to change too, Edwin?“ she asked. - I sighed. “I would if I were about twenty-one. Looking at you I wish I were.” I didn’t really; no sensible man of forty-eight really wants to be twenty-one again, unless in possession of all the knowledge, experience and advantages of forty-eight. But Terry was pleased. We strolled along the walks and lanes of the Park. Practically everyone we saw was gay, exuberant, dressed in bright, frivolous clothes. Arne Park was where the people of Arneville threw off their inhibitions. No city in the galaxy needed such a place more. Yet the Park was anything but crowded. Working hours in Arneville were long. We must have been about a mile from the pavilion when Terry said: “I want to help you, Edwin.” ‘To do what?“ She took a deep breath and then said: “I know you’re a spy.” ‘Do you?“ I said softly. ”Who told you?“ ‘Just before lunch yesterday somebody called the shop. He didn’t give his name. He said you were coming and that I was to make friends with you. He said it wouldn’t be dangerous, but I had a chance to prove my loyalty to Solitaire.“ So Terry had not been planted. F.R.S. had simply co-opted her. ‘What else were you told?“ I asked quietly. ‘Very little, then. I guess I was deliberately told practically nothing so I wouldn’t dare do anything rash, like asking questions that would tell you what was going on.“ ‘You’re very intelligent, Terry.“ ‘Well, I hope so. You know what happened—the way things worked out I didn’t have to do or say anything I might not have done anyway. I mean, I’ve always been interested in Earth, and if there had been no phone call we might still have gone to the opera last night.“ I nodded. If Terry had not been instructed to say to me what she was saying now, she’d made a terrible mistake. However, there was no going back now. I had to hear what she had to say. ‘When I went home my father was waiting for me with a tall, thin man. The tall man said he was Mr. Marks and asked me to repeat everything you and I had said to each other. I told him all I could remember, because it couldn’t do any harm—could it?“ ‘No.“ ‘Then…“ She hesitated. ‘Edwin, I think you guessed that my father and I don’t get on. He’s… it’s a terrible thing to say about my own father, but he’s no good. After a while the atmosphere changed. I was no longer voluntarily cooperating with the police, as I thought. Marks was telling me what to do and warning me that my father would go to jail if I didn’t do exactly as I was told… that I might go to jail too. And my father was begging me to save him…“ I waited. I was very sorry for her. She was very young to be faced with such things. ‘They told me you were a spy and it was my duty to report on you. I don’t think I let them see I was angry, but I was. I mean—I liked you. I could tell you hadn’t done anything bad, and weren’t going to do anything bad.“ ‘Yet you knew I was working for Earth,“ I said, ”against your world.“ She shrugged. “Earth’s never done us any harm, as far as I knew. Maybe if Marks had treated me differently, acted as if he trusted me… Anyway, as it was I didn’t know what to do. There was no harm in telling Marks exactly what you said and did—unless I suddenly learned something important. If I did, I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell Marks.” I nodded. I could understand her attitude, I thought, better than she did herself. She was very young, very inexperienced, and romantic, even sentimental. She had already had to learn that she could not rely on her father. Her world, her environment, her family had never done much for her—yet being sensible and self-reliant she had made the best of everything and managed to be happy. Then I came along. She liked me—and she was coldly instructed to act like my friend, but report all I said to F.R.S. F.R.S. was not so clever after all. They should have known what Terry would do. Did they? ‘You don’t seem surprised,“ Terry said, a little deflated. ‘I’m not. Terry, whenever I land on a strange planet the chances are that anybody who makes friends with me is working for local counter-intelligence. When I find a pretty girl being friendly, I can be practically sure of it.“ ‘That must make you very cynical,“ she said in a small voice. ‘No, why should it? I’m not a character in a fairy story… You haven’t told me everything yet. That interview with Marks was before we went to the opera, wasn’t it? What’s happened since?“ ‘Oh, just more of the same. Marks was waiting when I got home, asked questions again, warned me again. He…“ She flushed. ‘Might as well tell me.“ ‘He said it might be better if I slept with you.“ I merely nodded. But I guessed that was what had really decided Terry to confide in me. She had practically no sexual experience—I hadn’t lived nearly a half century without being able to discern such things. A young, imaginative girl with romantic notions might easily entertain the exciting thought of a passionate love affair with a spy. But it would have to be a love affair. To be coldly instructed to sell her virginity for her world was revolting. After a pause I said gently: “Do you know the danger you’re in, Terry?” She blinked. “I’m not in any danger. I’ve warned you. I’ll go on reporting to Marks. But I won’t report anything that’ll do you any harm.“ I sighed. It was probably impossible to make her understand. And no good purpose would be served by trying. ‘Who’s your boyfriend, Terry?“ I asked casually. She flushed again and started. That was when I knew that she really was beginning to fancy herself in love with me. To give herself time to think she dropped on the grass, stretched out her legs and lay on her back with her arms behind her head. Then, as an afterthought, she sat up again, unzipped the middle part of her yellow playsuit, tossed it aside and lay down as before. Between the bottom of her small though well filled halter and the top of the briefs that dipped and rose from one hip to the other, all the fascinating tracery of firm adolescent muscles rippled as she moved. She had the kind of fantastic waist measurement that actresses claim and nymphets really possess. I sat down beside her. By this time she was ready to answer: “I don’t have a boyfriend.” ‘You must have, Terry.“ ‘Well, there’s Steve. But he… oh, he’s just a kid.“ ‘Have you seen him in the last twenty-four hours?“ ‘No. Anyway, there’s nothing between us.“ For a moment I wished I’d never come to Solitaire. Probably I wouldn’t find anything out. And though I expected to leave in one piece, it was now unlikely that Terry had much longer to live. What she didn’t understand was that to F.R.S. loyalty was a deadly serious business. She wouldn’t be able to fool F.R.S., either. Sooner or later, whatever I did, Solitaire’s counter-espionage department would find out that Terry had (in their estimation) committed high treason. So she had—unless all this was an act, something I didn’t believe for a moment. The fact that Terry couldn’t help me was neither here nor there. She had told a spy that she was on his side against her own world. She sat up suddenly. “Do you think I’m cheap?” she asked bluntly. I couldn’t help looking startled at the sudden challenge. ‘Showing myself like this?“ she went on. ”You’ve gone quiet. Well, I’m not cheap. I don’t mind showing myself to you. Steve has meant nothing to me since I met you.“ ‘Terry,“ I said, ”I have two daughters, and one of them is about three years older than you. And I didn’t marry particularly young.“ ‘It’s true,“ she said bleakly. ”You do think I’m cheap.“ She reached for the discarded part of her play-suit. There was no way I could reassure her without abruptly changing the subject. So I changed it. ‘Terry,“ I said, taking the cover-up from her and putting it down again, ”I wonder if you really can help me. Have you noticed anything, absolutely anything, about the set-up on your world that puzzles you, or surprises you?“ ‘What sort of thing?“ She was still suspicious and hurt. Probably she felt guilty about Steve—perhaps she’d broken a date with him that afternoon or the night before; perhaps she felt she’d thrown herself at my head and all I did was laugh at her. ‘Any sort of thing.“ ‘Well… there’s one thing I meant to tell you. Only I haven’t gotten around to it. It’s only a rumor.“ ‘Yes?“ ‘There may be nothing in it. It’s just… Well, they say sometimes people disappear.“ ‘Disappear?“ ‘Oh, they’re not supposed to disappear. They’re supposed to go somewhere else. But they only write once, or maybe twice, and then nobody ever hears of them again.“ ‘That’s very interesting, Terry,“ I said. But it wasn’t. On a hyper-patriotic world like Solitaire there was undoubtedly a secret security service, though we knew nothing about it. Of course people disappeared. It would have been astonishing if they did not… Terry not being dressed for any place in Arneville except the Park, we had a snack at an open-air restaurant inside the dome and then I took her home. I didn’t know yet what to do about her. Pretty soon I’d have to think up something she could tell Marks, something that would convince him Terry was loyal and useful, and that I was nowhere turning up anything. The second part was perfectly true. For the moment, Terry was to tell Marks everything we’d said with one obvious exception. Back at the hotel, Tom Harrison, the eager beaver, was waiting for me. He wanted to know if there was anything further he could do to help. I had an idea. “No, thanks, Tom,” I said. “In fact—I can manage by myself now. Thanks for your help earlier. I appreciated it. But I needn’t trouble you again.” Harrison nodded awkwardly. “Okay,” he said gruffly. “I guess you don’t want me hanging around any more, is that it?” ‘Well, not exactly. As a matter of fact, the girl I told you about has been showing me around. You’re a nice guy, but you must admit you’re not a pretty girl.“ Harrison’s face cleared. “Oh, if it’s like that… Well, if you want me, you know how to get in touch. So long.” I went upstairs. So long as the gloves were still on, F.R.S. wouldn’t crowd me. But they’d still want to keep me under observation. Forcing them to do it through Terry gave her some temporary protection, I thought. Indeed, within an hour or so I had certain plans worked out, plans I won’t bother to detail, for I never had a chance to put them into effect. It was still fairly early when a porter came to tell me a young lady was waiting for me downstairs. I went down at once. The visitor could only be Terry. It was a mistake her coming to see me at the Parkview, where everything I did must be under observation and where the walls undoubtedly had ears. The best I could do was act as if I’d been expecting her, and hope she had the sense to wait until we were outside before she said anything that mattered. She had. She hadn’t taken off her coat, and was waiting as if we had arranged to go out together. I thought there was something a little tense about her smile. She waited until we were well away from the Parkview, walking along Arne Way, before she said anything about the reason for her call. It was getting dark, and a soft, fine snow was falling. It was bitterly cold; we breathed out white clouds. Terry, who had never previously shown any sign of feeling the cold, was shivering. ‘Edwin,“ she said suddenly, ”it’s all gone wrong.“ As we walked she told me what had happened. Whenever anyone came close she stalled until we were in effect alone again. When I left her and she went in, she heard Marks and her father talking. She didn’t go straight in to them, but went to her bedroom to change. In her bedroom she caught one or two words which made her creep quietly into a boxroom to hear better. Marks was telling her father that in order to be certain that she was telling the truth and the whole truth, he was going to shoot her full of drugs when she came in… Terry didn’t have to tell me how completely this changed the picture for her. Probably she’d had some vague idea appropriate to her years that it would be quite easy to turn awkward questions aside, and that even if later she was tortured in the not too unbearable way reserved for heroines, she’d insist bravely that she had told the truth. She hadn’t seen Marks drugging her to take her will away from her. There was nothing romantic about that. You couldn’t fight it… ‘I crept out quietly,“ she concluded, ”and came straight to you.“ ‘Don’t you realize, Terry,“ I said, ”that you were meant to hear exactly what you did hear, and do exactly what you have done—come running to me in a panic?“ She drew herself up sharply. “I’m not in a panic!” ‘You should be. I would be, if I were you.“ ‘Why—what do you mean?“ ‘I’ve got some protection. I haven’t broken any local or international law.“ ‘But you’re a spy!“ ‘Please don’t shout it in the middle of the street, Terry. In a sense I am, but I don’t have to go outside the law to do what I want to do. Certainly F.R.S. will put me out of the way if they consider it’s got to be done, but they’ll know that Earth won’t be at all pleased if they do, and might even take the opportunity of clamping down on Solitaire and ordering a full-scale investigation, in the course of which they’ll have an excellent chance of finding out what I was sent here to find out. F.R.S. knows all that. But you—“ ‘What about me?“ she asked defiantly. She could no longer be allowed to deceive herself about her position. ‘Well, you see, Terry, only Solitaire has any responsibility for you. No one else can possibly interfere. If your own authorities decide, without trial or any public mention of your case, that you’re a traitor, there’s nothing whatever to stop them—“ . She stared at me in horror. “You mean I’m going to be shot—and there’s nothing you can do?” I pulled her down on a bench at a street corner. It was not a comfortable place to sit, with the snow sifting down, but we were much safer out in the open than in any place where we could be overheard. The way Terry was shivering made me think of something. ‘What are you wearing under your coat?“ ‘Just—what I wore in the Park. I didn’t take time to change.“ ‘That’s a great help,“ I murmured. ”That means we can’t go anywhere where you’d have to take off your coat.“ ‘Except the Park.“ In the afternoon she had told me that the Park was busier by night than by day. And there was no police patrol charged with the duty of protecting public morality. The official view, a more practical one than that of some apparently better organized worlds, was that if no convenient place was provided for young lovers to do what young lovers did, innocent or not so innocent, the only real effect was to drive them into the willing arms of those who made money out of vice. So we could go to the Park again and not be too conspicuous. F.R.S. could find us there with ease; but then, F.R.S. could find us sooner or later wherever we went. ‘Meantime,“ I said, ”is there anybody you can trust, literally with your life? Not your father, evidently.“ ‘Certainly not my father,“ she said with more bitterness than I had ever heard in her voice. ‘Aunts, uncles, cousins?“ ‘Only Steve,“ she said in a small voice. ”And I don’t like------“ ‘Never mind whether you like it or not. We’ll go and see Steve.“ First we gave the men trailing us nightmares. There might not be anyone trailing us; still, I had too much respect for F.R.S. to take any chances. I had failed in my job on Solitaire. All I was trying to do now was to take Terry away with me in one piece, if that was possible. I didn’t think it was. We jumped on and off buses, entered buildings by one doorway and left by another, hurried through crowds, and stayed quietly in cover waiting for anyone following us to overrun us. With my experience and Terry’s knowledge of the city, we were soon sure that we were clear. Then we called at Steve’s lodgings. I was fully aware that we might pick up our tail again by calling there. However, I didn’t mention this to Terry. She had enough to worry about. ‘Why, hello, Miss Terry,“ said the landlady, faintly surprised. ”Didn’t Steve call you before he left?“ ‘Left?“ said Terry with foreboding. ‘He’s gone to Bennerwald. But he must be meaning to write. I guess we’ll all be getting a letter from him tomorrow.“ Terry was going to say more, a lot more. I gripped her elbow hard. With an effort she thanked the landlady and came away. ‘Where’s Bennerwald?“ I asked. ‘On the other side of the planet—ten thousand miles away. He couldn’t have—“ ‘Don’t talk too much.“ We went through another tail-amputating operation. When I considered it safe we sat on another bench, huddled together so that we would be taken for lovers. ‘He’s disappeared,“ Terry said flatly. The emphasis she put on the word made me repeat it interrogatively. ‘Disappeared—like the ones I told you about.“ ‘I’m afraid you’re right.“ She shuddered and clutched me convulsively. Yet the way she took it convinced me that she had never been in love with Steve. ‘Was he a rebel?“ I asked. ”Against patriotism and propaganda, I mean? Did he shoot his mouth off a lot?“ Terry stared. “No. Quite the opposite.” “Really?” I said. ‘Yes—we often argued. As I told you, I wouldn’t mind loving my country if my country didn’t work so hard trying to make me. But with Steve…“ She shrugged. “Remember The Arne Story? Well, Steve would sacrifice me for Solitaire. That wouldn’t have been so bad if he didn’t keep boasting about it.” I was beginning to become interested. “Terry, think of all the other people you knew who might have disappeared. What were they like?” ‘I told you, nobody can be sure. Maybe nobody disappeared. It may be nothing more than a rumor—“ ‘I know that. But you can make a guess. The people who go on long journeys, write once or twice and then stop writing—are they young or old? Men or women? Rebels or patriots?“ ‘Young, mostly. You don’t get older people uprooting themselves. Both men and women. And usually—quite patriotic. Anyway, not rebels.“ ”That’s very interesting,“ I said. ”Edwin—where can we go? Some other town?“ ”No, there’ll be a watch on all travel depots.“ ”A hotel?“ ”Likewise.“ ‘Then let’s go to the Park. I’m freezing.’ “All right.” Before we moved, however, a fresh-faced man came past, saluting me cheerfully as he went by. It was Tom Harrison. F.R.S. was so efficient that if they lost our trail they could easily pick it up again. More than that, so cocky that they wanted me to know we were being watched. What, I wondered, were they trying to make me do? We left our coats at the Park pavilion. Once more we had done our best to give the watchers the slip. After all, we might succeed. They might decide that the Park, which was a trap even if a very large one, was the last place we’d go. Not that it made any real difference. F.R.S. might or might not let me leave Solitaire when I chose, might or might not let me take Terry with me—and there was nothing I could do about it. Arne Park by night was wonderful, twice as wonderful as by day—especially to people coming straight in out of the snow. The dome glowed with electroactinic light matched to some reflecting index which did not interfere with the passage of sunlight the other way. I could not see the source. The light was not bright, only a little stronger than that of a full moon on Earth. And the huge Park was alive with couples. It must be the longest, widest and busiest lovers’ lane in the whole of the galaxy. Soft laughter came from behind every bush. I was relieved to find that Terry in her yellow playsuit was not unduly conspicuous. The Park was as warm as by day, and since it was a place for the young, the clothes worn were youthful. We kept walking because when we moved it was scarcely possible that what we said could be overheard. ‘Terry,“ I said. ”Have I got this right? The people who disappear are young, of both sexes, and highly patriotic?“ ‘That’s my impression.“ ‘Before they get married and have children?“ ‘Well, of course. You said that was interesting. Why?“ ‘Because in this kind of world the people you expect to disappear are the people who disapprove of the setup —the individualists, rebels, intellectuals, anarchists, agitators, reformers.“ ‘Well—it’s not like that.“ ‘So they disappear . . . they don’t die.“ ‘How do you make that out?“ ‘How much do you know about Henry Arne, the Arne this park and the city are named after?“ ‘Oh, quite a lot. I’ve been to school, you know. What do you want to know?“ ‘I don’t need to ask you about him, Terry. I’m a historian, you know. Suppose he’d been an individualist himself, a fanatic believer in human freedom, he might long ago have set up a secret but all-powerful organization to weed out the conformists, the yes-men, the people who could be influenced by propaganda.“ Terry stopped and grabbed my arm. “That’s what happened! Of course it is!” I shook my head. “No. Arne loved Solitaire so much he was crazy about it. In that way he was a fanatic. He had so much power he was nothing more or less than a dictator. Anything he wanted done was done. So anything he wanted set up was set up. Openly or secretly.” ‘You think he did set up some secret organization?“ ‘Yes, but not the kind I mentioned. Arne believed passionately that if Solitaire were fully developed it would inevitably be ruined by the predators who are drawn to a rich, successful world, or who are created by it. He believed that if Solitaire were to grow up strong and free and healthy, it must grow up poor.“ This time Terry didn’t say anything. She was lost. After all, she knew nothing about any world but her own. She had nothing to compare it with. ‘Whether Arne was right or not,“ I mused, ”what he wanted for Solitaire has come about. Either by chance or by design, Solitaire hasn’t grown strong and rich and successful. It could hardly be by chance, for reasons which I won’t go into just now. So it must be by design—almost certainly Arne’s design. Which means that he somehow set up a situation, a plan, which is still working two centuries after his death. ‘None of this is new, Terry. Anybody who took the trouble could make guesses along these lines without coming near Solitaire. And when you said there were rumors of disappearances, that wasn’t any surprise either. The population of Solitaire should be multiplying itself by about six every century. And it’s not. At a guess, with no figures to go on, it’s only multiplied itself by two in two centuries.“ ‘You can’t mean that all these people have disappeared. That they were born and… and…“ ‘Died? Were transported? Well, what do you think, Terry? Doesn’t nearly everybody get married? Doesn’t the average couple have three children?“ ‘I guess so. But what does that mean?“ ‘It means,“ I said, ”that in the last two hundred years anything from one to three thousand million people have… disappeared.“ I expected some reaction from Terry. There was none. Looking around me, I saw why. , Men were approaching us from all directions. They were so purposeful that it was clear F.R.S. had decided to take us in—if not to shoot us on the spot. Running was futile. Even Terry realized that. She shrank against me and I squeezed her hand. Tom Harrison was in charge. ‘So you’re something quite important in F.R.S., Tom,“ I said conversationally. ‘Quite important,“ he said drily, with no trace of his former diffident manner. ”In fact, I’m the chief.“ ‘I’m honored,“ I said. At the gate, Harrison refused to allow us to take our coats. He was right. There was something about my coat that… well,‘ anyway, it didn’t really matter. ‘You’re not making Terry go outside like that?“ I protested. ‘There’s a car just outside the door,“ said Harrison briefly. There were quite a lot of people about, and naturally they stared as we were hustled into the car. Terry shivered violently as the snowflakes settled on her bare shoulders. But then we were in the car, and she had more to worry about than the cold. We were taken to a room in Government House, a small room with nothing important in it—no windows, one door, a table, some chairs. Present were Harrison, Terry and I, and two other men, not in uniform. ‘We won’t do any pretending, shall we?“ asked Harrison. ‘Not if you’d rather not,“ I said agreeably. ‘Frankly,“ said Harrison, ”I’d rather you simply decided to go away, Horsefeld.“ ‘Taking Terry with me?“ ‘She stays here, whatever happens.“ Casually, he looked her up and down, rather as if he were a censor and she were a dirty book. Terry went pale. ‘She never took to Solitaire’s nationalism,“ I said easily. ”I think you’d better let her come to Earth with me.“ Harrison shook his head. For a moment something hard showed in his eyes: he didn’t like traitors. And there was no denying that Terry was a traitor. ‘Didn’t you expect her to throw in her lot with me?“ I asked. ‘We did not. We thought either loyalty or sense would keep her from the stupid course she has taken. Not that it greatly matters. You leave Solitaire no wiser than when you came, Horsefeld.“ ‘You’re sending me away, then?“ ‘After you’ve both been questioned under drugs. You can see the girl die if you like before you go.“ ‘In that case,“ I said, ”I’d better talk now and save time.“ ‘Bluffing is useless. We’re using the drugs anyway.“ ‘But questioning under drugs is extremely slow, as we both know very well. When I talk, do you want these two to hear what I say?“ I indicated the two guards. Harrison nodded to them and they went outside. That was interesting. Our chances of escape remained precisely nil, but the fact that Harrison sent them away probably meant that they were not in the secret—that very few were, in fact. ‘I’ve found out quite a lot about the Arne plan,“ I said, ”and guessed the rest. Enough to stop it, I think.“ Harrison’s reaction was slight, but there was a reaction. I was greatly encouraged. I didn’t know the whole story, any more than a fortune-teller did when a client entered. Yet she was trained to make an initial good guess and go on guessing, instantly abandoning a false trail and following up anything that got a reaction. I was surprised that Harrison let me do this. However, Harrison erroneously thought he held all the cards. ‘Everybody always knew about the disappearances,“ I said, ”but that was Solitaire’s affair. We thought rebels were simply eliminated. We didn’t know they were being saved up, put in the bank, so to speak. We should have known. It’s exactly the kind of crazy scheme Henry Arne would think up. Anything to put Solitaire on top—anything.“ Harrison looked back at me as blankly as Terry was doing. Yet he was still listening. So I went on with a new surge of confidence, knowing that even if I didn’t have everything, I had enough. “I admit I don’t know where the Arne army is, but once I realized that it was the patriots who were put away, I knew they were in suspended animation somewhere. Probably under the Park. You haven’t really been very clever, Harrison. In fact, wasn’t it rather stupid to let me know you knew Terry was on my side and that you were watching us, and do nothing until we started wandering around in the Park?” ‘Horsefeld,“ said Harrison quietly, ”what are you up to? You know I can’t let you go now.“ Fool of a man, I thought exultantly. He’d told me I was right. - “The end of the plan, I guess,” I said, “is that in a few centuries from now Solitaire will gradually waken up. Exports will rise, assets will be converted into cash and machinery. Thousands of young people will be sent to Earth and other planets to attend colleges. They’ll come back as trained up-to-the-minute technicians, and they’ll start turning Solitaire into a slick, high-powered, efficient world. Then the army will be awakened and trained. By that time it could be as many billion strong as you want. An army of------■” ‘For what?“ Harrison snapped. ‘An army that size consisting entirely of patriots could only be designed for one thing—to make Solitaire top dog in the galaxy. Obviously Arne was a megalomaniac. I don’t know how he ensured that only other megalomaniacs should be chosen to play their part in the scheme through the centuries, but evidently he succeeded-------“ Harrison’s gun came up. He wasn’t going to argue. He was merely executing Terry and me on the spot, to make sure there were no more mistakes. ‘I wouldn’t do it if I were you,“ I said, putting an edge in my voice. ”Not long go you asked what I was up to. You knew I must be up to something. You were quite right. I was.“ ‘Well?“ said Harrison, his gun pointed straight at my heart. ‘You’ve let yourself get behind technologically here on Solitaire,“ I said steadily. ”So far behind that it probably never even occurred to you that everything that was said in this room was being picked up and recorded for delivery to Earth?“ Harrison didn’t try to hide his consternation. If I was bluffing, it wouldn’t gain me anything, but a little time. If I wasn’t, neither he nor I mattered much any more. ‘These buttons,“ I said, fingering them. ”I expect you had them examined very closely, as you examined everything else—I noticed how thorough the so-called customs examination was. They’re simple, ordinary plastic buttons. X-rays would show nothing—you tried all that, of course. If you sawed them up you’d still find nothing. But they happen to be of a new material that resonates with sound vibrations, and on one of the two Terran Navy ships hanging about just clear of Solitaire’s atmosphere the most powerful amplifier you ever saw is able to-------“ ‘I don’t believe it.“ ‘You don’t have to. I can prove it if you like.“ ‘How?“ ‘Would you like a bomb dropped on Arne Park in ten minutes’ time? Or in a more friendly spirit, some colored lights over Arneville? Let me suggest we make it a tender for Terry and me, landing in front of this building in… say an hour’s time?“ Harrison was staring at me. Suddenly he said: “Get out of those clothes. I want every stitch you’re wearing.” He turned his head to Terry. “You too.” I laughed. “Shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted only prevents him getting back in.” ‘Quickly!“ said Harrison sharply. ”Or I shoot you both, here and now.“ Trying hard not to show her fear of the gun waving about at us, Terry stood up straight, defiantly, and started to unfasten her playsuit. I let her go on, because I had thought of something else I’d better tell the Navy ships, although it should hardly be necessary. ‘If you have any idea of chasing the ships or trying to blow them out of space,“ I said, ”forget it. The first ship must already be building up acceleration back to Earth. She has all the information she needs. And you’ll never catch her… Terry, hold it.“ “I want those clothes,” said Harrison savagely. ‘Take the buttons,“ I said, tearing them off. ”Be reasonable, Tom. If I’m lying, there’s no point in destroying my clothes, as I presume you’re going to do. If I’m not, it’s too late—I’ve said enough already, and anything else that’s said will hardly be worth recording.“ Harrison hesitated. “All right,” he said abruptly. “Tell them to send down the tender. But I’ll take those buttons.” He did. Terry, who had taken off the wrap-around part of her suit and was halfway through making the penultimate sacrifice—I caught a quick glimpse of one rosy firm breast—reclaimed her modesty at the moment of surrender. ‘You,“ said Harrison viciously, his cold gaze on Terry, ”are not going.“ Dropping the buttons in his pocket, he went out. Terry said: “Edwin, is all that true?” ‘All,“ I said. ”Say what you like, Terry, so long as you remember that F.R.S. is taking careful note of everything you say.“ The polite hint startled her only for a moment. ‘Are they going to let us go?“ Me, yes. Terry, no. Terry had helped to break the Arne plan—for it was certainly broken now. Harrison and F.R S wouldn’t let her get away with it. Nearly everybody is vicious in defeat. However, if I put my awareness of this into words, it would finish off any chance I might have of saving Terry. She had not picked up her wrap and although she was holding her suntop together she had not fastened it. I knew that with the frightening directness of innocence she was trying even at this moment to provoke some reaction from me. Although she had never put it into words, she made no secret of her disappointment and pique that I had never treated her in a way I would not have treated my own teenage daughters. ‘That crazy story can’t be true, can it?“ ‘It’s crazy but it’s certainly true- in essence.“ ‘That all these people who disappeared are alive, and can be brought back? Steve too?“ ‘Yes. In a way it’s a heroic plan, from the Solitaire angle. An army of specially selected patriots never existed before. It would fight as no army has ever fought…“ ‘I can’t understand why you should be allowed to go.“ ‘Well, I’m here as Earth’s semi-official representative. And whatever Solitaire might be in a few hundred years, as of now Earth could crack her like an eggshell. If Harrison shot me, Earth could use my death as an excuse to take Solitaire apart.“ Since she apparently wasn’t going to do it, I gently fastened her halter by the button in the middle and put the wrap around her. ‘Edwin,“ she pleaded, ”don’t you care about me at all?“ ‘I care about you very much. Care for you—no, not in the way you mean. Terry, there hasn’t been much love in your life, that’s obvious. You don’t really want me as a lover, you want me as a father.“ ‘I don’t! I-------“ ‘With me as a father, you’d soon find yourself seeing boys your own age with different eyes. A girl your age needs parents so she can grow out of them.“ We talked for an hour. Terry never once mentioned her own danger. In much the same way, patients who know they are going to die make plans for the future. At last Harrison came back. “A small ship has just landed outside,” he said. ‘So?“ ‘So you’d better get on it.“ ‘And what are you going to do? What did the premier say?“ Harrison hesitated, then smiled faintly. “Tell Earth, Horsefeld,” he said, “that you can’t do a thing to us. As of now, the Arne plan is reversed. If we must—we’ll grow rich and fat. We’ve all the workers we need to transform Solitaire.” I grinned back. “So that’s the way of it? That’s your business, so long as the original Arne plan is buried. It’s nothing to us. Come along, Terry.” ‘Terry isn’t going. I told you.“ ‘Then neither am I.“ ‘Don’t be a fool,“ said Harrison harshly. ”Did you ever think there was one chance in a million that we’d let her live?“ Terry tried to hide behind me. As she pressed against me I could feel her heart racing. ‘I can make things awkward for you, or easy,“ I said. ”Which is it to be?“ Harrison hesitated again. “I haven’t the power to let her go.” ‘But I’m supposed to go, isn’t that so?“ I let the deadlock hang for a few more seconds. Harrison was not really a good actor. His chubby, innocent face might reveal very little; his hesitations and silences revealed a lot. I was now certain he had been instructed to see me off the planet. ‘Tell you what,“ I said at last. ”Let us get to the tender, then shoot Terry—and miss. That’ll clear you personally.“ ‘Okay,“ said Harrison instantly. We walked through Government House, which was silent and empty. We were accompanied not by two but by seven guards, so it was a procession of ten that strode through the empty, echoing building. We marched out into the night. Again Terry shivered in the snow. The tender was two hundred yards away, a miniature spaceship, sleek, gleaming, and with an air of terrible efficiency. I hung back to let Terry go first. We were almost at the ship. Terran naval officers were saluting me and eyeing Terry with startled admiration. She could have stretched out her arms and touched the hull. Unfortunately it was Harrison I was watching; Harrison did nothing. It was one of the guards who raised his gun suddenly and fired. The instant before the shot, I pulled Terry’s arm and she lurched toward me. Nevertheless, the shot didn’t miss. She dropped in the snow with a small red hole in her back. I swept her up in my arms and leapt inside, knowing Harrison wouldn’t let me be shot. Inside the lock I saw familiar faces. “Get off, quick,” I said, still holding Terry in my arms. She had not made a sound since the shot. Although I had known she was tiny, she was even lighter than I expected. There is always a doctor on a tender, by regulation. The doctor stepped forward and led the way to a tiny cabin. I put Terry face down on the bunk. ‘Now go away,“ said the doctor. In the control room Commander Stimson shook my hand. “Well, you made it, Edwin. Did you ever hear anything so crazy? Would they have gotten away with it?” ‘They might,“ I said. ”Depends on our espionage system a few centuries from now.“ ‘I must say,“ Stimson protested, ”I didn’t expect you of all people to bring a half naked girl away with you.“ I found it hard to be polite. All my thoughts were in the tiny cabin in which Terry lay still with a bullet through her lung certainly, if not through her heart. ‘Funny business altogether,“ said Stimson, who was a good naval officer but not gifted with much imagination. ”Hard to believe some of it. In fact, I don’t believe it now.“ ‘We’ll leave that to Terran Intelligence,“ I said. The tender shot up toward its parent ship. The battleship swallowed it neatly and immediately began to pile on acceleration for Earth. The door in the little cabin in the tender had not yet opened. I had to make my report to the captain. I had changed my clothes before going back to the tender. At last the doctor emerged. ‘Will she live?“ I asked. ‘Oh, I shouldn’t be surprised. She shouldn’t have been moved, you know.“ ‘Can I see her?“ The doctor shrugged. I went into the cabin quietly. Terry looked ghastly. If I’d seen her like that before seeing the doctor I’d have been sure she was dying. But she was conscious. ‘Next stop Earth,“ I said gently. ‘Edwin…“ ‘Don’t talk,“ I said. ”And anyway, you’re not to call me Edwin any more.“ ‘What am I to call you?“ I said one word very firmly: “Dad.”