Chapter 6

_It was nearing dawn on the eastern Continent of Estrella, and high above in the stratosphere, in its spaceship, the strange being that had been studying this planet so carefully, suddenly stiffened to closer attention. Its mind had just contacted a group of beings below whose minds were of a far different texture--finer, somehow--than those of the natives of this world. The language was different, too, which did not make so much difference. But the thought-processes of these newcomers, in many cases, were almost incomprehensible to the alien._

_What were they? Was there more than one race here on this planet, after all? The being activated its multiphased scanners, and studied and pondered._

SSM George Hanlon was waiting in the shadows of the great forest enclosing the hidden clearing when the spacer came in. When it had landed, the lock-door opened. Hanlon ran over and, after giving the correct password, was helped inside the ship.

“Hi, fellows,” he greeted the two secret servicemen who were assigned as crew of this ship, and went with them into the control room. “How’s everything in the great big universe outside of this dump?”

“Not bad,” they grinned. “Nothing special going on. Mars just won the interplanet baseball championship...”

“ ... and there’s a new singer on stereo that’s a doll, boy, a doll...”

“ ... We saw Hoop and Manny at our stop on the other side, and they said the admiral was coming here. We got some letters for him, but you’d better take ‘em in case he doesn’t show before we have to leave.”

“Oke, will do. Hey, you fellows got any candy bars? Can’t get sweets here, and I’m sugar starved.”

“Sure, plenty.” And while one of the men went to the storeroom, the other asked Hanlon if he would like a cup of coffee.

“Gee, I sure would. That’s another thing these folks don’t have. That herb tea of theirs ... ugh!”

The first returned with a dozen candy bars that Hanlon stuffed in his pocket, and continued drinking his coffee.

“Oh, yes, better give me some Estrellan money. I’ve had to spend quite a bit recently. About five hundred credit’s worth should be enough.” They gave him that from a supply in a drawer.

“Now for the most important thing,” Hanlon said. “Next trip I want you to bring me a cat--a nice black...”

“A cat?” It was a duet of surprise.

“Yeh, a nice, tame, house-broken Earth cat. All black, or maybe with a white star in its forehead. About a year old, and quite large. Be sure it has nice, sleek fur.”

“Can do, all right,” doubtfully, “but for John’s sake, why?”

“One of the men I’m working on here loves pets and collects all the different kinds he can get. So I want to give him something he doesn’t have. All the animals here are tailless, so get me one with a really nice, long, well-furred tail. A thorough-bred, not an alley-cat. I figure it will help me get in good with him.”

“Right.” One of them made a note. “Anything else?”

“Not a thing, thanks. ‘Specially for the coffee and candy. Wonder when da ... the admiral will get here?” He hoped they had not noticed that near-slip, for it had been decided the relationship should not be generally told, and so far only a few S S men and high officials knew of it.

“Haven’t the faintest.”

“Then I guess I’ll stick around awhile and see, if you don’t mind.”

“Glad to have you aboard, mister. We have to stay here several hours anyway, and we like company. Getting sick of old Tom’s ugly face anyway,” one of them quipped.

“Yeh, I ‘spose you think you’re a beauty queen.”

“You play poker?”

“Lead me to it.”

Though Hanlon carefully avoided using his special mental abilities, when Admiral Newton came aboard an hour or so later, the young Corpsman was a few credits ahead. The cards had just fallen right for him.

After the two secret servicemen had left the cruiser and it had blasted off, they started back toward town. Hanlon had very much wanted to see his father, for he had been vaguely disturbed and dissatisfied with his rate of progress. True, he was making a good start at getting where he wanted to go, but it seemed to him he was taking far too much time for what little he had accomplished. He said as much to his father.

“Well, I don’t know,” the admiral said thoughtfully, as they rode along the flowertree-shaded but dusty road. “These things take time, and it seems to me you haven’t done so badly, considering the short time you’ve been here.”

“Thanks for being generous, but I seem to be taking so long for next to nothing.”

“What do you plan to do now?” Newton asked, and Hanlon explained more in detail what he was after.

“What makes you so sure this fellow Yandor leads to the higher ups?” the admiral asked slowly at last.

“All the clues I’ve managed to pick up so far point to him as a key figure,” Hanlon said earnestly. “I’ve read in a number of minds facts--or snatches--that point to him as one of the leaders, despite his reputable position as the leading theatrical entrepreneur...”

“Or because of it,” his father interjected.

“Yes, perhaps because of it. When Auldin introduced us and I hinted at my knowledge of his ‘other activities’--and when I’ve mentioned them since--Yandor didn’t react as I’m sure he would if he wasn’t engaged in something off-color.”

“Hmmm, it all sounds reasonable. And as far as the time it is taking you is concerned, you needn’t worry yet. It always takes time to open up a line of investigation. You took three months or more off to go to Algon, remember, but you got the answers finally.”

They had arrived at the house where Hanlon lived so they parked their trikes in the back yard, and went up to his room.

“Yes, what you say is true,” Hanlon seemed more relieved now. “What have you and the others found out?”

His father’s short laugh was not a pleased one. “Hardly a thing worth mentioning. We don’t even have any leads that may be successful, as you have. Manning has been working as a clerk in a government office, but can’t find a thing. Hooper is in Lumina, the secondary capital where the study and suggestion body holds forth...”

Hanlon’s mind remembered from the reels that this body was not exactly a legislature or congress, since it had no power to make laws. It studied all questions and problems that came up, and reported or made suggestions to the Ruler, who had the final say. It was something fairly recent, introduced by Elus Amir.

“ ... and managed to get a job on an Estrellan equivalent of a newspaper there. But he hasn’t found a thing, either, except that he’s been in a position to learn where the propaganda is strongest, and is keeping charts and graphs, with dates and percentages, of its spread. But so far they haven’t shown anything conclusive, except that the rumors are spreading rapidly, and that lately they have included the whispers that Terrans are back of the crime wave.”

“Yeh, I’ve heard that. Obviously a ‘whisper campaign’ started by the real conspirators. But what’re you doing, dad?”

“Mostly I’m just traveling here and there, keeping as quiet and undercover as possible, trying to find out what people all over the planet are really thinking. The percentage who believe the propaganda seems very small, but is growing. About the only thing I’ve found out at all curious or extraordinary is that Adwal Irad, the Second-In-Line seems to have a much greater than ordinary place in the counsel and affections of Amir, the Ruler.”

Hanlon laughed. “That ‘Second-In-Line’ business is screwy, isn’t it?”

The admiral sat back in his chair, lighted a cigarro, and grew thoughtful. “Yes, from our standpoint it is most peculiar, and one of the things that make it so hard for us to understand the Estrellans at all well. How it is done I haven’t been able to find out, but the men of the ruling class are specially bred--reminds me of the way queen bees are developed. They are larger physically, less hairy, and far more brainy than the average males here. However, it seems to sap their strength to handle the job, for while the new ruler takes over at the age of thirty, at the end of his fifteen-year term of office he is an old man--yet the average Estrellan life-expectancy is ninety.” He shook his head.

“Sure is alien all right,” the younger S S man furrowed his brow in concentration. “Never heard of anything like it before.” He was silent a moment, then looked up. “But what about Irad that’s different--I should think the rulers would want their successors to learn as much as possible about the job before they took over.”

“I gather they do, but usually in a perfunctory sort of way. However, ever since he came back to Estrella--Irad was one of the natives who went on that personally-conducted tour of the Federation--he has been with the ruler almost every day. It is said the old man treats him more like a son than a successor; they seem, from reports, to be closer even than Amir and his own son.”

“Aren’t the two related?”

“Not that closely. I believe Irad is a sort of second-cousin’s son. There’s an examination among each generation of ruler-possibilities, and the high man is designated ‘Second-In-Line’, and so on down.”