“As I told you,” said Pallam in an aside to the Commandant, “the Terran, is the lower form of the two.” He returned attention to the prisoner. “All that you have told us is acceptable because it is consistent—as far as it goes.”
“What d’you mean; as far as it goes?”
“Let me take it to the bitter end,” suggested Pallam. “I do not see any rational reason why any criminal’s Eustace should allow his partner to be driven to suicide. Since they are mutually independent of others but mutually dependent upon each other, a Eustace’s inaction is contrary to the basic law of survival.”
“Nobody commits suicide until he has gone off his rocker.”
“Until he has done what?”
“Become insane,” said Leeming. “An insane person is worthless as a material partner. To a Eustace he is already dead, not worth protecting or avenging. Eustaces associate only with the sane.”
Pouncing on that, Pallam said excitedly, “So the benefit they derive is rooted somewhere within Terran minds? Is it mental sustenance that they draw from you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does your Eustace ever make you feel tired, exhausted, perhaps a little stupefied?”
“Yes,” said Leeming with emphasis. How true, brother, how true. Right now he’d find pleasure in choking Eustace to death.
“I would like to pursue this phenomenon for months,” Pallam told the Commandant. “It is an absorbing subject There are no records of symbiotic association among anything higher than the plants and six species of the lower elames To find it among the higher vertebrates, sentient forms, and one of them intangible, is remarkable, truly remarkable.” The Commandant looked impressed without knowing what the other was talking about.
“Give him your report,” urged Pallam.
“Our liaison officer, CoIonel Shomuth, has replied from the Lathian sector,” the Commandant told Leeming. “He is fluent in Cosmoglotta and therefore was able to question many Terran prisoners without the aid of a Lathian interpreter We sent him a little more information and the result is significant.”
“What else did you expect?” Leeming observed, inwardly consumed with curiosity.
Ignoring that, the Commandant went on, “He reported that most of the prisoners refused to make comment or to admit anything. They maintained determined silence. That is understandable because nothing could shake their belief that they were being tempted to surrender information of military value. They resisted all of Colonel Shomuth’s persuasions and kept their mouths shut.” He sighed at such stubbornness. “But some talked.”
“A few are always willing to blab,” remarked Leeming.
“Certain officers talked, including Cruiser Captain Tompass… Tompus…”
“Thomas?”
“Yes, that is the word.” Swivelling around in his chair, the Commandant pressed a wall-button. “This is the beamed interview unscrambled and recorded on tape.”
A crackling hiss poured out of a perforated grid set in the wall. It grew louder, died down to a background wash. Voices came out of the grid.
Shomuth: “Captain Thomas, I have been ordered to check certain information now in our possession. You have nothing to lose by giving answers, nothing to gain by refusing them. There are no Lathians present, only the two of us. You may speak freely and what you say will be treated in confidence.” Thomas: “Mighty leery about the Lathians all of a sudden, aren’t you? You won’t fool me with that gambit. Enemies are enemies no matter what their name or shape. Go trundle your hoop-you’ll get nothing out of me.”
Shomuth, patiently: “I suggest, Captain Thomas, that you hear and consider the questions before you decide whether or not to answer them.”
Thomas, boredly: “All right. What d’you want to know?”
Shomuth: “Whether our Lathian allies really are Nuts.”
Thomas, after a long pause: “You want the blunt truth?”
Shomuth: “We do.”
Thamas, with a trace of sarcasm; “I hate to speak against anyone behind his back, even a lousy Lathian But there are times when one is compelled to admit that dirt is dirt, sin is sin and a Lathian is what he is, eh?”
Shomuth: “Please answer my question.”
Thomas: “The Lathians are nuts.”
Shoinuth: “And they have the Willies?”
Thomas: “Say, where did you dig up this information?”
Shomuth: “That is our business. Will you be good enough to give me an answer.”
Thomas, belligerently: “Not only have they got the willies but they’ll have a darned sight more of them before we’re through.”
Shomuth, puzzled: “How can that be? We have learned that each and every Lathian is unconsciously controlled by a Willy. Therefore the total number of Willies must be limited. It cannot be increased except by the birth of more Lathians.”
Thomas, quickly: “You’ve got me wrong. What I meant was that as Lathian casualties mount up the number of unattached Willies will increase. Obviously even the best of Willies cannot control a corpse, can he? There will be lots more Willies loafing around in proportion to the number of Lathian survivors.”
Shomuth: “Yes, I see what you mean. And it will create a psychic problem of great seriousness.” Pause. “Now, Captain Thomas, have you any reason to suppose that a large number of partnerless Willies might be able to seize control of another and different lifeform? Such as my own species, for example?”
Thomas, with enough menace to deserve a space-medaclass="underline" “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Shomuth: “You don’t know for sure?”
Thomas: “No.”
Shomuth: “It is true, is it not, that you are aware of the real Lathian nature only because you have been warned of it by your Eustace?”
Thomas; startled: “By my what?”
Shomuth: “By your. Eustace. Why should that surprise you?”
Thomas, recovering swiftly enough to earn a bar to the medaclass="underline" “I thought you said Useless. Silly of me. Yes, my Eustace. You’re dead right there.”
Shomuth, in lower tones: “There are more than four hundred Terran prisoners here. That means more than four hundred Eustaces wandering around unchallenged on this planet. Correct?”
Thomas: “I am unable to deny it.”
Shomuth: “The Lathian heavy cruiser Veder crashed on landing and was a total loss. The Lathians attributed it to an error of judgment on the part of the crew. But that was just three days after you prisoners were brought here. Was it a mere coincidence?”
Thomas, scintillating: “Work it out for yourself.”
Shomuth: “You realise that so far as we are concerned your refusal to reply is as good as an answer?”
Thomas: “Construe it any way you like. I will not betray Terran military secrets.”
Shomuth: “All right. Let me try you on something else. The biggest fuel dump in this part of the galaxy is located a few degrees south of here. A week ago it blew up to total destruction. The loss was a severe one; it will handicap the Combine fleets for quite a time to come.”
Thomas, with enthusiasm: “Cheers!”
Shomuth: “Lathian technicians theorise that a static spark caused a leaking tank to explode and that set off the rest in rapid succession. We can always trust technicians to come up with a glib explanation.”
Thomas: “Well, what’s wrong with it?”
Shomuth: “That dump has been established for more than four years. No static sparks have caused trouble during that time.”
Thomas: “What are you getting at?”
Shomuth, pointedly: “You have admitted yourself that more than four hundred Eustaces are roaming this area, free to do as they please.”
Thomas, in tones of stern patriotism: I am admitting nothing. I refuse to answer any more questions.”
Shomuth: “Has your Eustace prompted you to say that?”