The words came out flat, carefully neutral.
“Yes, sir.”
The only strange thing about the ship, apart from the fact that its lush comfort and extravagant areas violated every space and weight restriction which had been respected by ship builders since the first log rafts had been lashed together by adventurous early humans, was what Alice had named proudly as the Drive Chair. They were back in the control room, Dr. Biddle white and shaking, oblivious of the /klik that swarmed over him. He stared at the Drive Chair. Its evident adaptability for naps, and the all-too-handy snack tray, did little to improve his temper. The drive chair was not even a parody of things he had seen on other Terran ships; its only apparent purpose was to annoy Biddle. It succeeded.
“Well, Dr. Geery. This so-called drive chair. This is the fruit of all your research, the thing my department has been funding for the last two years?”
“Yes, sir.” Alice said quietly, not bothering to point out that the main source of the funding had nothing to do with Dr. Biddle. “Oh, by the way, you might note the drive chair coupling. That is what links the space warping entity to the actual star drive.”
“Ron,” she continued, “let’s show Dr. Biddle how it works.”
Ron sat in the chair as Dr. Biddle, furious, glared at Alice, who continued calmly.
“Our research has uncovered the basic principle of the Galactic star drive, which appears to violate several known principles of physics. Our primary breakthrough was the recognition of the unusual metabolic characteristics of specially adapted entities. Such entities have been discovered among almost all Galactic populations, Terrans included.”
“Just what do you think this is?” Biddle sputtered. “A joke?” His temper was not improved by the pair’s visible, fat smugness.
“No sir. No joke. Ron and I just happen to be adapted entities.”
As Dr. Biddle was talking to Alice, Ron, seated in the drive chair, hitched himself into the metabolic coupling system and made some silent adjustments. Now Dr. Biddle looked around and saw him. Biddle drew himself up, looking impressively wrathful.
“Dr. Corcoran.” He said scathingly. “I trust that chair is comfortable enough.”
Dr. Biddle had a way of using one’s hard-earned title to express depths of contempt never imagined by those who have not given years of their life to earn it. Unruffled, Ron replied. “Yes, sir.”
Alice, who had moved quietly into the pilot’s chair, began punching coordinates hurriedly into the navigation console. Unaware of her, Dr. Biddle continued.
“I’m glad you are comfortable. I see you are sitting, too, Dr. Geery. Perhaps it is just as well. You two are fired!”
For the first time, Ron and Alice were not prepared with a rehearsed answer. Alice finally found her voice.
“Ah, Dr. Biddle, um, you might need to talk to President Mariachi.”
“Also, we have to finish out the term with our classes.” Ron added.
Biddle, who had no previous experience with losing control, stared amazed at the two members of his staff. As he realized that he had spoken a favorite fantasy aloud, he sank into one of the other chairs.
“Dr. Biddle.” Alice said, unconsciously ironic. “Please let us table this discussion for now. We have a job to do.”
Dr. Biddle started, and then stared. Both Alice and Ron were pointing to the coordinate readout, which impossibly, perplexingly, showed the ship’s position to be just outside the rings of Saturn. The image shifted disturbingly, clearing again to reveal a pattern of stars never seen from Earth. Dr. Biddle had expected that Ron and Alice would be the primates included in this experiment, but he hadn’t expected himself to be included as well.
“I’ll press charges just as soon as we return to Earth.” Biddle began in tones of quiet menace. “Don’t think you can run forever. You have just kidnapped a Dean of Faculty, and as soon as this crazy ship of yours hits Terran authority, you are under arrest. I hope you are satisfied. When you get out of jail,” he continued, warming to his theme, “that is, if you ever do, you will find that there is no work for you in any institution of learning. You won’t be certified to wipe the runny noses of two-year-olds!”
During this speech, Biddle’s voice had risen, and he ended with a bellow which should have terrified his subordinates. Ron and Alice, however, were too busy with navigation and communication to pay attention. When silence finally fell, they said nothing. They simply pointed to the comm, screen.
Back on Earth all normal business had ceased, as each Galactic visitor took joyful notice of the event. Finally, two minds among the new member species had been sharp enough to penetrate the wilderness of false clues and dietary guilt which had been sown in the ready soil of Terran obsession with weight. At the solid evidence that Terra had at last passed the test the Galactics celebrated. In Delhi, India, fireballs ran through the less crowded streets, and launched themselves into the air, scattering sparks. Residents who came outdoors at the sudden noise and light were promptly overrun by the ubiquitous /klik, and bounced upon, pummeled, tossed, and otherwise enthusiastically congratulated by a multitude of entities.
In Antarctica City the single Floom, solitary emissary of his/her/its privacy-loving species, rose up from a self-dug snow cavern, quite startling the other inhabitants by rolling genially among them, emitting jovial, ice-shattering booms.
In addition to the sudden flurry of excited alien activity, users of electrical equipment everywhere were treated to the second Earth-wide Galactic message, which Biddle saw displayed on the Fat Power’s comm, screen:
PEOPLE OF EARTH: WELCOME TO FULL MEMBERSHIP IN THE GALACTIC FEDERATION. CONGRATULATIONS. RESEARCH BY DR. RONALD CORCORAN AND DR. ALICE GEERY HAS FINALLY PROVEN THAT TERRANS ARE ABLE TO SELECT TRUTH OVER PREJUDICE.
Most Terrans were perplexed for several days, but by the end of the week the Corcoran-Geery drive became a household word. Once Dr. Biddle recovered from his initial shock at being an unwilling passenger on an impossible journey, he was in a mood to listen. By the end of the trip, he had become a good friend. He was also the first Terran to see truly rapid weight loss in action.
Their destination was a pleasant
Earth-like planet circling a modest star roughly in the vicinity of Betelgeuse. Fat Power was escorted to the surface by a fleet commanded by the proudest, fattest pilots on the planet. The crowd of natives preened fur and waved tentacles. One, smartly rotund, turned happily to his frankly fat mate.
“Well, Azra, they did it. I knew all along that the fat Terrans were as smart as the rest of us. Too bad they had to put up with so much from Terrans not so well endowed.”
Azra nodded serenely in reply. On board Fat Power, a considerably slimmed down Ron and Alice donned shiny new Galactic uniforms made to their own end-point specifications, and strode proudly down the ramp, arm and arm with Biddle. As the massed Galactics saw them, there was a roar of appreciation for two sleek, slim Terrans, at the peak of physical condition. Now the party began in earnest, with plenty to eat. After all, Ron and Alice would need it. They had a return trip to make.