"Yes," said the Mentor, looking up. "How did you know that?"
"We came to see you, long ago, just after you had been activated to do your work here," said Jeff, gently. The Mentor First they'd met then had been so strong, so gleamingly new.
"Surely you could not be alive for so long; we were activated thirty thousand years ago. And I do not remember you," said the Mentor. He said this in Terran Basic.
"You have learned to speak our language!" said Jeff.
"Since you left two weeks ago, the computer analyzed your language and I have learned it-enough to know that you pity me. An alien such as yourself should not take the liberty of pitying me; it is not your place to do so. And yet-and yet I find it strangely comforting. Perhaps, now, you will help me remove this terrible fear I have."
"What is the fear?" Jeff asked softly.
"When you would not help, I scanned you, hoping the computer and I could find out how you got to Jamya." The Mentor's head hung lower, and his body seemed to quiver.
"What's the matter?" asked Fargo. "Are you afraid of us?"
"No, no. I am afraid of myself. I am so seriously out of order that, at times, I am not in a position of mental stability, and the moments-of insanity-have come more frequently. When my Pet came back to me so unexpectedly, I felt myself becoming sane once more, but I don't know how long that will last. If I become insane again, you must leave me here in the scanner. The computer is adjusted to deactivate me if I become too dangerous."
Jeff was horrified. Suddenly the thought of Mentor First as a villain seemed grotesque. He was a sad and suffering machine.
Jeff protested, "But you mustn't kill yourself."
"I must, if I cannot be cured. And I do not think a cure is possible. I am too old. All the other Mentors have died, and I am too much alone. Caring for the Jamyn by myself is more than I can manage and even my Pet has been away from me for too long. We have no means of entering hyperspace to refuel ourselves, you see. The Others wanted to isolate this planet, and they must have thought they would be back long before our enormous supply of fuel would be consumed, but they have not come back."
"And you thought I came from hyperspace," said Jeff, "and could get you into hyperspace where you could refuel-and perhaps find the Others."
"Yes. It is as though you read my mind…But the disturbance in my brain has progressed too far. It is too rate. Go away."
"Then have the computer release Norby. He can help. Norby!" shouted Jeff.
"I heard," came Norby's voice, and his head popped up. He elevated on antigrav and hung in the air before the Mentor.
"I was exploring the computer, Jeff," Norby said. "I'm sorry you thought I was helpless in its grip and that you were upset by that, but I could not allow anything to interrupt me. I'm done now, though, and I'll be glad to help you, Mentor First. I will take you into hyperspace so you can refuel."
The Mentor's eye patches flared in a blue iridescence, but quickly dulled. "You? A small alien robot?"
"I am not alien. I'm yours. You made me. At least partly. Can't you tell?"
"You don't look familiar," said Mentor First. "You are lying."
"Take my hand," said Norby. "Find the data in my mind. It's available now that I've explored the data banks of your computer. I remember-and you will, too."
They touched, and while Jeff watched, his heart thumping, the Mentor's eye patches began to brighten and he reached out his two lower arms to hold Norby's barrel. "You are the Searcher," he said in Jamyn.
"Part of it," Norby said. "When you realized that the Others might not be returning and that you could not go into hyperspace to find them or to refuel, you finally worked out a device that would go into hyperspace for you." Norby spread out his arms. "Inside me is that device."
"You never returned," said Mentor First, softly, "and I thought my attempt to build a hyperpenetrator had failed."
"Your attempt did not fail, and I found the ship the Others had promised to send, but a collision with a small asteroid ruined the ship and damaged me. I lay paralyzed for a long time until a human being named McGillicuddy, a creature like these two with me, explored the asteroid on which the ship and I were wrecked, and found me. He repaired a damaged robot of his own, using some of my parts. Since I have been in this new and beautiful shape, I have been drawn back to Jamya over and over. Now I remember everything and can help you and at the same time, fulfill my original function."
"It is too late, my son, I am dying."
"No! Come with me to hyperspace and refuel."
"I do not think I can. I am too weak to refuel now."
"I'll do it-and channel the energy to you." A wire extended from Norby's hat and touched Mentor First's chest. "Now, father, join minds with me. I will think of hyperspace, and together we will go…" Norby and Mentor First vanished.
11. Pirates!
Oola whined, her ears lengthening. She slunk on her belly over to Fargo.
Stroking her ears, Fargo muttered, "Poor Oola. I guess she's tom between Mentor First and me. And poor me, because I guess if Mentor First lives, I'll end up minus a pet."
"He'd better live," said Jeff, "even if it means you being petless. and he'd better come back with Norby intact, because without Norby, how are we going to get home? The Hopeful will be forever stuck within the energy barrier around Jamya if we can't make use of Norby's mixed-up abilities."
"You're right. But let's be optimistic. When Norby gets back, we'll go out in search of the Others, if they still exist."
"Or, if they don't, we must at least find that wrecked ship of theirs that McGillicuddy stumbled on. No telling what information it might have on it."
"Either way," said Fargo, "whether it's the Others, or their ship, we'd better do the finding before anybody else in the Federation does."
"Absolutely," said Jeff. "We could use that knowledge as ransom for Norby. It's Norby I worry about. Right now, and after we get back home!"
The two waited with increasing impatience. Then Fargo said, "This doesn't seem to be an appropriate time for it, but I'm getting hungry. How about you?"
Jeff said, "I'm a growing boy, superannuated brother. I'm more or less always hungry."
"Too bad. Part of the problem of being organic rather than metal is that one has to refuel so much more often. Do you suppose Zi will feed us if we go down there?"
"Sure, she's a great hostess, but her aunt, the Grand Dragon, will try to chew us up."
"Let me try my charm," Fargo said, sauntering out with Oola in his arms.
Charm or whatever, Jeff thought a while later, it certainly worked.
Fargo, collarless since he had restored her property to the Grand Dragon, had eaten and was now serenading Her Dragonship, who sat in royal splendor against the sunset light of Jamya. She reached out with one careful claw every now and then and ran it through Fargo's hair.
"These are such pleasant scales," she said. "Soft and fine. How did you come to get them?"
"I have noticed," said Fargo, "that they have grown softer and finer since I have had the good fortune to meet you, Your Dragonship."
At this, the Grand Dragon made a gargling sound that seemed to signify gratified pleasure. She was obviously infatuated with him.
With his melodic tenor, Fargo had no trouble acting the part of a troubadour, and was now well into a peculiar translation of "God Save the Queen" which seemed to delight the Grand Dragon.
Jeff lacked Fargo's ability to live in the passing moment, however. He did not enjoy either the food or the song, for he could think only of the absent Norby. Even Zargl, who sat next to him and made fearsome faces at him in an apparent design to make him laugh, failed to cheer him up.