propelled out of the sun's gravity well, or, at best, sent off on errant orbits, like comets. They're going to find that the planet they're building will be considerably smaller, maybe too small to hold an atmosphere.» Erin nodded. «They're not God,» Dent said. «They have the ability to fling the broken pieces together. Natural forces may or may not heat the core, but what then?» «They're pretty amazing,» Erin said. «They can totally disassemble a living thing and put it back together in the same form or in an altered form.» «But that is not creation,» Dent said. «That's my whole point. Maybe they can form a planet. Maybe, over a few million years, natural forces will cause vulcanicity. Maybe they can even accelerate the process. Since they can dismantle a living thing and use the cells or molecules or whatever for building blocks, maybe they can even manipulate nonorganic materials. Maybe they can break oxygen and hydrogen loose from the rocks and combine them to make water—» «I think I know what you're saying,» Erin said. «They haven't performed any act of creation. To form their bodies they had to have the material from Plough and his crew.» «So even if they can make a world and give it oxygen and water—» «They can't make a blade of grass.» «And before a planet is habitable there must be vegetation,» Dent said. «How much of his thoughts do you pick up?» Erin asked. «He gets a little careless at times. He's a horny bastard.» She shuddered, remembering his ruthless attentions. «He sees in his mind a sort of paradise, empty except for the two of them. There's lush vegetation but no animal life. Apparently they don't eat.» «Have you noticed that they're losing weight?» He nodded. «They don't eat, but their bodies are made of flesh and blood. That's another reason why I feel that they might be a little bit insane. Otherwise they'd have to see that they're using up the material that forms their bodies.» Mop, who had been sleeping at their feet, decided that it was time for him to get some attention. Erin rubbed his silky ears. He flopped onto his back with a contented sigh and she rubbed his chest and belly. «What's going to happen then?» Erin asked. «I think when they realize that they're going to fail in their attempt to recreate their world, they'll start looking for a world that has already been made.» She shuddered again. «Can you imagine them loose on a populated planet?» «If Mother had a self-destruct button, I might think of pushing it,» she said. Dent held her close, for the mere thought of her death devastated him. However, he had entertained similar thoughts. * * * They could use the power of the generator and their wills to break out oxygen and hydrogen from the rock. And they did it in mighty floods that quickly filled huge basins to form oceans. The power of the sun condensed water and there was weather. But under the rains the sterile rock glistened and endured. The process of erosion would be one for the ages. Soil formation was a thing of the far future. The waters of the blue oceans were unfruitful. They looked down on their work and fretted. They sent thunderbolts of pure power to shatter unyielding mountains, but there was no life. She vented some of her frustration on Erin, jerking her from her body to put her in storage inside the small skull of Mop the dog. The transition was no longer shocking. Man is a very adaptable animal. Erin used such times to try to make her little buddy aware that he was not alone in that odd little brain of his, that he had an unwilling but well-meaning guest. Life was so simple for Mr. Mop. He ate. He slept. He coaxed his humans into playing with him, or petting him. He did not have headaches, acid stomach, stiff limbs, or sore muscles. He went through the day with his stub of a tail pointed jauntily high, a barometer of his spirits. He had come to accept that now and then his humans were not available. He knew that Erin was not at home in her body at the moment. Of course, he could not think in those terms, he was just aware that it would be useless to try to attract Erin's attention as she made jerky, robotic movements at the control console of the Amplifier. «I'm here, Mop,» Erin was saying. «Listen to me, you hairy little rascal.» She tried various ways of getting Mop's attention. With great intensity she envisioned juicy, meaty tidbits of people food. Mop put his nose between his paws, twitched one ear, and took a little nap. When he awoke, she went back to the work of trying to break through into his doggy consciousness. Nothing worked. In mock anger she said, «May the fleas of a thousand camels infest you.» She didn't mean it, of course, she was just frustrated at being unable to have any effect at all on Mop's behavior. Mop lifted his left rear leg and scratched energetically. He squirmed, began to scratch with the other leg. «Hey,» Erin said. «I didn't mean it, buddy. You don't have fleas.» He continued scratching. She reviewed what had happened. Mop was getting a bit frantic, scratching and biting, and Erin knew that the sanitary measures taken before Mother left New Earth made it impossible for the dog to have fleas. What had she done? She talked to the dog, told him he didn't have fleas. Mop whimpered and scratched as if he were being eaten alive. She said angrily, «What in hell did I do?» His left ear twitched. «I am angry with you,» she stormed. «I have told you that you do not have fleas. Now stop that scratching.» Mop gave his right ear one final little twitch with his hind leg and sank down onto the deck. Anger. Or pretended anger. Anger penetrated the barrier. She experimented. «I want water,» she said angrily. Mop rose, stretched, went to press the button that gave him fresh water. «I want food,» Erin grated. Mop ate. He was a champion button pusher. Although he was color blind, he knew which button to push for water, which for his regular food, and he knew that pushing the button for his milk bone worked no more than twice a day. «It's all right, baby,» she said, still talking as if she were angry. «It's all right. Go lie down.» Mop looked around in puzzlement, seeking Erin. «I'm here,» she yelled at him. His stubby tail did a few circles as he turned all the way around, looking for her. He padded to the workroom and saw her there at the console, jumped into her lap, climbed up behind the controls and looked at her with his deep, brown eyes, saw the blankness in her face that meant she would not talk to him. «Over here, Mop,» Dent called. Mop jumped to the deck, leapt into Dent's lap and onto the console. Dent managed to pat him once before the male alien sent a wave of pain, his way of saying, «Leave the dog alone and concentrate on your work.» «It's all right, boy,» Dent whispered. «She'll be back.» The communicator rang. John Kenner's doorbell sound indicated that a radio call was being received. Mop bounced to the deck and announced that someone was at the door, barking excitedly. «No, no,» Erin shouted at him, because they were becoming annoyed by the noise. The doorbell sounded again thirty seconds later. Mop, seeing that neither Erin or Dent was doing anything about it, barked hysterically. That might be one of his friends at the door. «Mop, Mop, shut up,» Erin yelled, in real fear that they would do harm to Mop. But, although Mr. Mop was usually a very gentlemanly little dog, when there was an alarm to be sounded he did his duty. On the third sounding of the doorbell—Rimfire's communications officer had been ordered to broadcast the call to the Mother Lode several times at thirty second intervals—the female alien turned, let her lovely emerald eyes rest on the excited Mop for a moment before sending a small wave of force that hurled Mop out of the room and sent him sliding across the deck of the bridge to bang painfully into the pedestal of the command chair. He yelped just once and then crawled under the console, shivering in fright. Erin forgot to speak with mock anger as she tried to comfort him, but then, as she turned her attention to The She, her anger was real, causing Mop to quit licking his bruised leg and lift both ears in alarm. «You bitch,» Erin screamed, «you bloody, mothering bitch.» If pure hate could have killed, the alien would have died at that instant. It was the wave of enmity sent by Erin that made The She inquire about the irritating sounds issuing from the communications system. The male alien got the information from Dent's mind, sent Dent to activate the communicator, listened to the message from the Rimfire. He did not have to voice questions. He merely willed that Dent answer. «Rimfire is a large spaceship,» Dent said. «She has several hundred people aboard.» He went on and on, giving all of the information he had. Dent told the alien what he knew about the armament of an X&A explorer. There was no possibility of holding back anything. He had merely to command and Denton had no choice but to obey. Had he been able to resist, the alien could have gone directly into Denton's mind to find the answers. The aliens had become totally contemptuous of the presence of the humans. The He didn't bother to close off his thoughts as he said to The She, «The new ship will be useful.» «Captain to the bridge,» the communicator said, waking Julie Roberts from a dream of childhood in which she had been feeling such a sense of love and warm security that, on losing it, she looked at the plain walls of her cabin and shivered. She went to the bridge. Lieutenant Ursulina Wade was on watch again. «Ursy, if you're going to make a habit of waking me every time you have the duty—» Julie said. «Sorry, Captain,» Ursy said. «I thought you'd like to see these.» She punched buttons and brought up detailed photographs of the surface of the planet which Rimfire was approaching. «Well, hell,» Julie said, for the planet was raw. There was water and an atmosphere rich in oxygen, but barren, incredibly sharp and rugged mountains touched torrent-raining clouds and mighty rivers spread over the rock surface. There was no green. «Some days there just ain't no fish,» Ursy said. «Yep,» Julie said. «If the air is good, there'll be mining stations. And she'll be a good source of water if anyone ever finds a planet nearby that has soil but not much water.» «You're a little ray of sunshine,» Julie said. «She's negative in all areas of detection down to earthworm size,» Ursy said. «I can see why, but we'll have to check the seas.» «I've laid out an orbit, Captain,» Ursy said, bringing up measurements on the screen. «Close enough to take good readings for metals and minerals and to send down the scouts for air and water samples.» «Very well,» Julie said. «Do you mind, Lieutenant, if I go back to bed now?» «Not at all, ma'am,» Ursy said. «Have a nice rest.» Julie didn't bother to undress. She had slept for four hours. She punched up coffee and sipped moodily as she considered the implications of the current situation. Even if the planet that Erin Kenner had led her to was not a Class A Habitable world, it was a world, and it did have water and atmosphere. If it was the source of Erin's gold, it wouldn't be a complete washout. She'd squeak through without a reprimand, but the admirals wouldn't be happy. «Damn it, Erin, where are you?» she said aloud. It wasn't likely that Rimfire would find F.R.A.N.K. on a planet that wouldn't support a mouse. But if Erin wasn't on the planet, where was she? The temporary blink beacons from the Mother Lode ended here, at the orbit of that blue planet. It didn't add up. Erin Kenner was not irresponsible, not easily excited. Erin was, in Julie Roberts' opinion, one of the last people to bring Rimfire several thousand parsecs on a spook chase. She finished her coffee, paced the deck. She was moving toward the communicator to give orders to make a thorough surface search with scanners set to detect the presence of a small spaceship, Mule class, when she heard Ursy's voice to the communicator again. «Captain to the bridge. Captain to the bridge.» Julie patted an errant lock of hair into place and walked to the bridge. Ursy was grinning. «You did it again,» Julie said. «We've found her, ma'am,» Ursy said, motioning toward a viewer. At first the shape of the image on the screen did not make sense, and then Julie realized that what she was seeing was two ships, a squarish Mule and a sleek converted fleet destroyer lying side by side, air locks joined. «I assume you have tried radio contact?» Julie asked. «Yes, ma'am. Negative.» «Readings?» «Life readings. Four entities of roughly humanoid bulk, and one very small one, in the area of five pounds.» «Roughly humanoid?» Julie asked. «Two of them are quite large. One of them weighs in the neighborhood of four hundred pounds.» Ursy's eyes were wide, her cheeks a bit pale. Julie nodded, knowing what the lieutenant was thinking. «Did you double-check those readings?» «Affirmative, ma'am.» Ursy was being very formal. It helped her to control her excitement, but then the agitation broke through. «It's F.R.A.N.K., Captain, sure as hell.» CHAPTER TW