“No, never at any time. I cannot see him, smell him or feel him.”
“Then how do you know that this is not a racial delusion?”
“Firstly, because every Terran can hear his own Eustace. I can hold long conversations with mine, providing that he happens to be within reach, and I can hear him speaking clearly and logically within the depths of my mind.”
“You cannot hear him with the ears?”
“No, only with the mind. The communication is telepathic or to be more accurate, quasi-telepathic.”
“I can believe that,” informed the Commandant with considerable sarcasm. “You have been heard talking out loud, shouting at the top of your voice. Some telepathy, enk?”
“When I have to boost my thoughts to get range I can do it better by expressing them in words. People do the same when they sort out a problem by talking to them-selves. Haven’t you ever talked to yourself?”
“That is no business of yours. What other proof have you that Eustace is not imaginary?”
Taking a deep breath, Leeming went determinedly on. “He has the power to do many things after which there is visible evidence that those things have been done.” He shifted attention to the absorbed officer sitting on the left. “For example, if my Eustace had a grudge against this officer and advised me of his intention to make him fall downstairs, and if before long the officer fell downstairs and broke his neck—”
“It could be mere coincidence,” the Commandant scoffed.
“It could,” agreed Leeming. “But there can be far too many coincidences. If a Eustace promises that he is going to do forty or fifty things in succession and all of them happen he is either doing them as promised or he is a most astounding prophet. Eustaces don’t claim to be prophets. Nobody visible or invisible can foresee the future with such detailed accuracy.”
“That is true enough.”
“Do you accept the fact that you have a father and mother?”
“Of course,” admitted the Commandant.
“You don’t consider it strange or abnormal?”
“Certainly not. It is inconceivable that one should be born without parents.”
“Similarly we accept the fact that we have Eustaces and we cannot conceive the possibility of existing without them.”
The Commandant thought it over, said to the right-hand officer, “This smacks of mutual parasitism. It would be interesting to learn what benefit they derive from each other?”
“It’s no use asking what my Eustace gets out of me,” Leeming chipped in, “I can’t tell you because I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?” asked the Commandant, behaving like nobody’s fool. He showed his teeth. “On your own evidence you can talk with him. Why have you never asked him?”
“We Terrans got tired of asking that question long, long ago. The subject had been dropped and the situation accepted.”
“Why?”
“The answer is always the same. Eustaces readily admit that we are essential to their existence but can not explain how because they’ve no way of making us understand.”
“That could be an excuse, a self-preservative evasion,” the Commandant offered, “They won’t tell you because they don’t want you to know.”
“Well, what do you suggest we do about it?”
Dodging that one, the Commandant went on, “What benefit do, you get out of the association. What good is your Eustace to you?”
“He provides company, comfort, information, advice and —”
“And what?”
Bending forward, hands on knees, Leeming practically spat it at him. “If necessary, vengeance!”
That struck home good and hard. The Commandant rocked back, displaying a mixture of ire and scepticism. The two under-officers registered disciplined apprehension. It’s a hell of a war when one can be chopped down by a ghost.
Pulling himself together, the Commandant forced a grim smile as he pointed out, “You’re a prisoner. You’ve been under detention a good many days. Your Eustace doesn’t seem to have done much about it.”
“Not yet,” agreed Leeming happily.
“What d’you mean, not yet?”
“As one free to roam at will on an enemy world he has enough top priority jobs to keep him busy for a piece. He’s been doing plenty and he’ll do plenty more, in his own time and his own way.”
“Is that so? And what does he intend to do?”
“Wait and see,” Leeming advised with formidable confidence.
That did not fill them with delight.
“Nobody can imprison more than half a Terran,” he went on. “The solid, visible, tangible half. The other half cannot be pinned down by any method whatsoever. It is beyond anyone’s control. It wanders loose collecting information of military value, indulging a little sabotage doing just as it pleases. You’ve created that situation and you’re stuck with it.”
“We created it? We didn’t invite you to come here. You dumped yourself on us unasked.”
“I had no choice about it because I had to make an emergency landing. This could have been a friendly world. It isn’t. Who’s to blame for that? If you insist on fighting with the Combine against the Allies you must accept the consequences—including whatever a Eustace sees fit to do.”
“Not if we kill you,” said the Commandant nastily. Leeming gave a disdainful laugh. “That would make matters fifty times worse.”
“In what way?”
“The life-span of a Eustace is longer than that of his Terran partner, When a man dies his Eustace takes seven to ten years to disappear from existence. We have an ancient song to the effect that old Eustaces never die, they only fade away. Our world holds thousands of lonely, disconnected Eustaces gradually fading.”
“So-?”
“Kill me and you’ll isolate my Eustace here with no man or other Eustace for company. His days will be numbered and he’ll know it. He’ll have nothing to lose, being no longer restricted by considerations of my safety. Because I’ve gone for keeps he’ll be able to eliminate me from his plans and give his undivided attention to anything he chooses.” He eyed the listeners as he finished, “It’s a safe bet that he’ll run amok and create an orgy of destruction. Remember, you’re an alien lifeform to him. He’ll have no feelings or compunctions with regard to you.”
The Commandant reflected in silence. It was exceedingly difficult to believe all this and his prime instinct was to reject it lock, stock and barrel. But before space-conquest it had been equally difficult to believe things more fantastic but now accepted as commonplace. He dared not dismiss it as nonsense; the time had long gone by when anyone could afford to be dogmatic. The space adventurings of all the Combine and the Allied species had scarcely scratched one galaxy of an unimaginable number composing the universe; none could say what incredible secrets were yet to be revealed including, perhaps; Such etheric entities as Eustaces.
Yes, the stupid believe things because they are credulous—of they are credulous because stupid. The intelligent do not blindly accept but, being aware of their own ignorance, neither do they reject. Right now the Commandant was acutely aware, of general ignorance concerning the lifeform known as Terrans: It could be that they were dual creations, half-Joe; half-Eustace.
“All this is not impossible,” he decided ponderously; “but it appears to me somewhat improbable. There are more than twenty lifeforms associated with us in the Combine. I do not know of one that exists in natural co-partnership with another.”
“The Lathians do,” contradicted Leeming, mentioning the leaders of the opposition, the chief cause of the war. The Commandant was suitably startled. “You mean they have Eustaces too?”
“No, I don’t. They have something similar but inferior. Each Lathian is unconsciously controlled by an entity that calls itself Willy something=or-other. They don’t know it, of course. We wouldn’t know it if our Eustaces hadn’t told us.”