And, also as usual, no one faction would play ball with any other. Each would have its own way in setting up the Realm or there would be no Realm — it would pick up its marbles and go home.
Fortunately, however, the eight hundred best brains of the entire Jelman race were together in one place — in the fully operative base that the Mallidaxian’s dome had now become. Their numbers included the most capable and most highly trained specialists in every field of Jelman endeavor and they all had been living together and working together for many months.
They knew better than to go off half cocked. They would have to develop a master-plan upon which they could all agree. Unanimously. Nothing less would do. Having developed such a plan they would put it into effect, each person or planetary group upon his or her or their home world. The constitution thus fabricated would be put into effect by reason if possible, by force if necessary. It was not to be amended except by process contained within itself.
Thus the Constitutional Committee of Eight Hundred was still living in the base and was still hard at work when the Officer of the Day called Mergon — who, after glancing at plates and instruments, called Luloy.
The ether was showing strains of a magnitude not observed since the Battle for Independence. A Llurd ship was putting out everything he had; fighting full-out against a something — whose battle-screen covered such an immensity of space that Mergon could scarcely believe his instruments.
Luloy quirked an eyebrow. “Well, what are we waiting for?”
“Nothing,” and Mergon, who could now handle projections through the fourth dimension, launched them. “I’ll keep us invisible while we see what that thing is and how big it really is.”
They went and saw — and the more they studied the immensity that was the Skylark of Valeron the more they marveled. Finally, in the Valeron’s control room and still invisible, they studied the worldlet’s personnel; the while talking to each other in the flesh at the Mallidaxian’s main panel.
“Except for the green-skinned couple they are Tellurians,” the girl insisted.
“Everything about that — that ship, if you can call it a ship — is Tellurian. Just look at those clothes. You never saw anything like that anywhere except on Tellus and you never will.”
“We never heard anything about anything like that mobile fortress on Tellus, either,” he objected, “and we certainly would have if they’d known anything about it. How could they hide it?”
“Maybe it’s so new that not too many people know about it yet. Anyway, whatever the truth about that, we heard a lot about Seaton and Crane. Especially Seaton. According to the lore, he’s their principal god’s right-hand man. He can do anything.”
“Or a devil’s, depending on who you talked, to. But we wrote that off as just that — lore. If not propaganda.”
“We’ll have to write it back on again. Those two have to be Seaton and Crane — there, the Jelm-sized one with his head in the controller, and that other bean-pole type standing there smoking a… a cigarette, they call it. And that smoking business clinches it. Nobody but Tellurians burn their lungs out with smoke.”
“Okay.” Mergon thickened their projections up to full visibility and spoke:
“You must be the Seatons and the Cranes, about whom we heard so much on Earth but whom we were not able to find.”
Crane the Imperturbable was startled out of his imperturbability when Mergon and Luloy appeared in the Valeron’s control room and Mergon spoke to him in English. But he did not show it — very much! — and realized in a moment what the truth was.
“We are,” Crane said, stepping forward and holding out his hand. These people would understand the gesture. “I’m M. Reynolds Crane; Doctor Seaton is occupied at the moment. You are of course the people who had the spaceship on the moon. We have come all the way out here in the hope of finding you somewhere in this galaxy.”
“Oh? Oh, you want the fourth-dimensional device.”
“Exactly.” Crane then introduced the others, and finally Seaton; who, having assured himself that the Brain could handle the stalemate without him, had disengaged himself from the master controller and had joined the party.
“That’s right,” Seaton said. “Since nothing like it is known to any science with which we are familiar, we hope to learn about it from you. But that… those monsters… they aren’t, by any chance, friends of yours, are they?”
Luloy laughed. “No. Not exactly… or maybe they are, after a fashion, now. But the Llurdi were our unquestioned masters for so many thousands of years that they haven’t yet decided to treat us or anyone who looks like us with the courtesy reserved for equals. You see, the llanzlan would have communicated with you in thought after he had investigated you a little.”
“Yeah.” Seaton’s smile was grim. “With the stiffest, hardest probe he could build? And I’m supposed to sit still for that kind of manhandling?”
“No.” Mergon took over. “No one but a Llurd could have expected you to. This situation is somewhat unfortunate. Until very recently they have always had overwhelmingly superior power. They never had any effective opposition until we wore them down a little, just recently.” Mergon explained the situation in as few words as possible, concluding, “So this battle, while not due exactly to misunderstanding, is unfortunate.
What I propose is that Luloy and I visit Klazmon via projection, as we are now visiting you, and explain matters to him as we have explained them to you. I take it you will cease fire if he does?”
“Of course. We didn’t come here to start a war, or to bother him in any way; just to see you. So I’ll do better than that; I’ll cut my offense right now.”
He thought at the Brain and the raging inferno above the llanzlanate went suddenly calm and still. “That beam is no pencil of force, believe me. If it should get through it would volatilize his palace and half the city, and that would be unfortunate — hey! He’s quit slugging, too!”
“Of course,” Mergon said. “As I told you, he is — all Llurdi are — completely and perfectly logical. With their own brand of logic, of course. Insanely logical, to our way of thinking… or perhaps unsanely may be the better word. On the basis of the data he then had it was logical for him to attack you. Your cease-fire was a new datum, one that he cannot as yet evaluate. He has deduced the fact that we Jelmi caused it, but he does not know why you stopped. Hence he has restored the status quo ante, pending our explanation.
He wants additional data. If our explanation is satisfactory — data sufficient — he’ll probably just let the whole matter drop. If not — if it’s data insufficient — I wouldn’t know. He’ll do whatever he decides is the logical thing to do — which is ’way beyond my guess-point. He might even resume the attack exactly where he left off; although I think he’ll be able to deduce a reason not to.”
Seaton whistled through his teeth. “Holy… cat!” he said. “If that’s pure logic I’ll take vanilla. But how will you make the approach?”
“Very easily. If two of you will permit us to bring you over here we will send four working projections into the Llanzlan Klazmon’s study, where I’m sure he’s expecting us. You, Doctor Seaton, and your Dorothy, perhaps?”
“Not I!” Dorothy declared, shaking her head vigorously. “Uh-uh. Into battle, yes; this, no. If I never see a monster like that it’ll be twenty minutes too soon. You’re it, Martin.”
“One more thing,” Mergon went on, as Seaton and Crane appeared in the flesh beside him. “Since the Llurdi refuse to learn any language except their own, I must teach you Llurdan,” and he held out two Jelman thought-caps: