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He was looking for Neuronius's immediate reaction, a slight tremble-twitch in the hook, a faint flicker in the redness of the eyes, an ever-so-slight fanning of the cold-junction, the uncontrollable body language that one displays before one can steel himself to the shock of the unexpected.

And there it was: a slight wave in the silhouette on the right, a bunching of the right deltoid muscle-the one that pulled up the right wing and readied it for the power downbeat. That was a typical guilt reaction. Not a reaction in response to fear, the fear that someone was trying to supplant himself, Neuronius; but instead a response to guilt concerning his own ambitious plans. That guilt could lead to fear later as Neuronius pondered what Synapo's remarkable intuition might lead to; but at the moment it was only a symptom of guilt.

Synapo knew then the shape of things within and without his tribe. He could scheme up suitable responses. Anticipation of the cerebral exercise involved, the challenge, filled him with keen anticipation. Nowhere was there room for fear, for anticipation that he might fail.

Neuronius was a threat he could meet head on. And Sarco was an excellent engineer and an able administrator, but not the political animal that he faced in a tussle with Neuronius.

Synapo listened keenly to Neuronius's answer to the needling remark.

“I do not fear such a change if that Cerebron can serve you as ably as I,” Neuronius replied.

Ah, suitably servile. He was not yet ready, not quite sure of himself. That called for a less aggressive response, at least for the moment.

“We meet again with the aliens tomorrow morning,” Synapo said. “I want you and Axonius to accompany me.”

Axonius was third in the elite hierarchy, next in command after Neuronius. It was essential that Axonius witness the ineptitude of Neuronius and discredit him with the elite. Exactly how that would come about Synapo was not sure, but he did not lack confidence in his ability to carry it out in some fashion during their meeting with the aliens or later. Neuronius was not yet ready for command decisions and might never be. Synapo had merely to show that to Axonius and simultaneously educate Axonius in the difficulty of command.

Further, it would not hurt to condition Neuronius in the direction that would encourage ineptitude; that was not statesmanlike, perhaps, but certainly the political thing to do. Synapo had only to enhance what was already natural. Neuronius was by nature a haughty beast who acted as though he were infinitely superior to all those below him in the Cerebron pecking order. Synapo had only to encourage and assure him that the aliens were also to be included in that inferior category.

He made it seem as though he were asking Neuronius 's advice, confiding in him, passing confidential information to him beyond that which he had provided the Cerebrons in caucus, and by bits and pieces he led Neuronius to the conclusion that the aliens were weak and ready to capitulate and leave the planet. He was careful, however, never to say that directly but merely to imply it by innuendo.

Synapo was ready then for the next meeting with the aliens.

Chapter 7. Crisis

“How do we stand right now, Wohler?” Ariel asked.

She and the two robots had just left the meeting with the aliens and were traveling down Main Street in the lorry, heading for the apartment. The street lights stretched ahead toward the Compass Tower like a string of illuminated pearls in the dim light of a late dusk, the permanent dusk created by the dome.

“In what respect, Miss Ariel?” Wohler asked.

“With respect to the city, Wohler. The dome will be closed day after tomorrow unless we can get through to those monsters. What are you doing about it?”

“We are moving the necessary materiel for construction of a second Compass Tower and city on the other side of the plain, five kilometers away.”

“Yes, I believe those were the very words you used earlier,” she said. How could she be irritated by a machine that, given the same stimulus, came up with the same answer? “So your grand plan is to hop allover the planet, a jump ahead of the aliens, constructing Compass Towers and cities-weather nodes-while they follow along behind neutralizing them with their domes?”

Was she still feeling guilty about Wohler-1 and taking it out on this poor machine that wouldn't know it even if she were?

“We tried first to neutralize them and lost a pilot robot and flier,” Wohler-9 said, “and then we tried to learn more about them and lost a surgeon and laser scalpel.”

“You could have learned a lot more about them by just talking to them.”

“That has not proved to be true, Miss Ariel, and did not seem to be necessary at first since they destroyed only that one witness. They did not interfere with our endeavor once we enlarged the patrol circle to avoid construction of the dome. It did not appear they were violating our governing laws nor interfering with the Prime Directive until their construction work began to circle inward-to close the dome. Then we did begin to talk, and they succeeded in learning our language, but we learned very little except specialized terminology which you have now determined to be meteorological in nature.”

“What about the central core?” Ariel said. “You'll surely not leave that behind.”

“No, Miss Ariel. Our control computer's mainframe is mobile. When the blackbodies begin construction on the last day, we'll move it out to serve the new city.”

“Which will then shortly be covered by a dome.”

“Yes. That was why we hyperwaved Robot City for help.”

“Come upstairs with us, Wohler,” Ariel said as Wohler-9 pulled to the curb in front of the apartment building.

When they walked into the apartment, both Jacob and Wohler-9 headed for wall storage niches.,

“Jacob,” Ariel said, “would you rassle up some lunch for me? See if you can get a crisp garden salad out of that thing. And then sit down at the table. I'll freshen up and be right out.”

When she came out, the salad and a glass of milk were waiting on the table; Jacob sat across the table from where he had set her place, and Wohler-9 was standing in his niche.

She felt uncomfortable when the humaniform, Jacob, stood in a niche. Her Auroran upbringing made it seem natural for Wohler-9 to do so. That was where he was supposed to be when he wasn't doing some task for her. And she should have felt exactly the same way about Jacob, but his appearance didn't allow it.

“Now,” she said as she began eating, “our most pressing problem is how to carry out the objective of making this planet suitable for human life and at the same time avoid disrupting the weather. The weather does seem to be the main concern of the aliens.

“However, that's too tough to handle during lunch. It will ruin my appetite and upset my digestion.

“Let's talk instead about the hyperwave noise, the other way we're apparently disturbing them. I can understand the weather problem, sort of, and even have a glimmer of what a puncture node is-hot air punching up through a cold air layer, I suppose -but I've got no idea what they mean by discrete and continuous modulation. What's that all about, Jacob?”

“I'm not sure myself, Miss Ariel,” Jacob said. “I am aware of only one type of modulation of hyperwave: that which the alien called discrete. Nor had I drawn the connection of hyperwave modulation with jump technology, which permits us to travel through hyperspace. Were you aware of such a connection, Wohler?”

“No,” Wohler-9 replied, “but I was aware that teleportation using a Key to Perihelion is technologically different from jump teleportation.”

“This seems to me a minor problem involving new technology that we obviously should have been aware of,” Ariel said in true managerial style. “Get to work on it, Jacob.”