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“You mean you really think that the Ghosts are our Ancestral Patrons?” DeSilva was incredulous.

“Perhaps, and perhaps not. But the rest of his explanation makes sense! After all, did the Solarians ever do more than threaten before this? And now they suddenly became violent. Why? Could it be that they felt no compunctions over killing a member of a species as immature as Jeff’s?”

She shook her head sadly.

“You know, it’s only a matter of time before human beings begin to realize just how much we’re going to e to adapt! The fact is that every other oxygen-breathing race subscribes to a status system… a pecking order based on seniority, strength, and parentage. Many of you don’t find this nice. But it’s the way things are! And if we don’t want to go the way of the non-European races in the nineteenth century, we’ll just have to learn the way other, stronger species like to be treated!”

Jacob frowned.

“You’re saying that if a chimpanzee is killed, and human beings are threatened or snubbed, then…”

“Then perhaps the Solarians don’t want to mess around with children and pets…” One of the operators pounded his fist onto his console. A glare from deSilva cut him off. “…but might be willing to speak with a delegation with members of older, more experienced species. After all, how do we even know until we try?”

“Culla’s been down there with us on most of our dives,” the console operator muttered. “And he’s a trained ambassador!”

“With all due respect to Pring Culla,” Martine bowed slightly toward the tall alien. “He is from a very young race. Almost as young as ours. If s apparent that the Solarians don’t think he’s any more worthy than us of their attention.

“No, I propose that we take advantage of the unprecedented presence here on Mercury of two members of ancient and honored races. We should humbly ask the Pil Bubbacub and Kant Fagin to join us, down in the Sun, in one last attempt to make contact!”

Bubbacub rose slowly. He looked around deliberately, aware that Fagin would wait for him to speak first. “If human beings say they need me down on Sol, then despite the seen dangers of prim-it-ive Sunships, I be inc-lined to ac-cept.”

He returned complacently to his cushion.

Fagin rustled and his voice sighed. “I too shall be pleased to go. Indeed, I would perform any labor to earn the lowest berth on such a craft. I cannot imagine what help I could be. But I will happily go along.”

“Well I object, damnit!” deSilva shouted. “I refuse to accept the political implications of taking Pil Bubbacub and Kant Fagin down, particularly after the accident! You talk of good relations with powerful alien races, Dr. Martine, but can you imagine what would happen if they died down there in an Earth ship?”

“Oh fish and falafal!” Martine said. “If anyone can handle things so no blame falls on Earth, it’s these sophonts. The galaxy is a dangerous place, after all. I’m sure they could leave depositions or something.”

“Such documents are already recorded in my case.” Fagin said.

Bubbacub, as well, stated his magnanimous willingness to risk his life in a primitive craft, absolving all of responsibility. The Pil turned away as LaRoque began to thank him. Even Martine joined in asking the man to please shut up.

DeSilva looked to Jacob. He shrugged.

“Well, we’ve got time. Let’s give the crew here a chance to check the data from Jeff’s dive, and let Dr. Kepler recover. Meanwhile we can refer this idea to Earth for suggestions.”

Martine sighed. “I wish it were that simple, but you just haven’t thought this out. Consider, if we were to try to make peace with the Solarians, shouldn’t we return to the same group that was offended by Jeff’s visit?”

“Well, I’m not sure that necessarily follows, but it sounds right.”

“And how do you plan to find the same group, down in the solar atmosphere?”

“I suppose you’d just have to return to the same active region, where the grazers are feeding… Oh, I see what you mean.”

“I’ll bet you do,” she smiled. “There is no permanent ‘Solography’ down there to make a map from. The active regions, and sunspots themselves, fade away in a matter of weeks! The Sun has no surface, per se, only different levels and densities of gas. Why, the equator even rotates faster than the other latitudes! How are you ever going to find the same group if you don’t leave right away, before the damage done by Jeff’s visit spreads over the entire star?”

Jacob turned to deSilva, puzzled. “Do you think she might be right, Helene?”

She rolled her eyes upward. “Who knows? Maybe. It’s something to think about I do know that we aren’t going to do a damn thing until Dr. Kepler is well enough to be heard.”

Dr. Martine frowned. “I told you before! Dwayne agreed that another expedition should leave right away!”

“And I’ll hear from him personally!” deSilva answered hotly.

“Well, here I am, Helene.”

Dwayne Kepler stood in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. Beside him, supporting his arm. Chief Physician Laird glared across the room at Dr. Martine.

“Dwayne! What are you doing out of bed! Do you want a heart attack?” Martine strode toward him, furious and concerned, but Kepler waved her back.

“I’m fine, Millie. I’ve just diluted that prescription you gave me, that’s all. In a smaller dose it really is useful, so I know you meant well. It’s just that it wasn’t helping to knock me out like that!”

Kepler chuckled weakly. “Anyway, I’m glad I wasn’t too doped up to hear your brilliant speech. I caught most of it from the doorway.”

Martine reddened.

Jacob felt relieved that Kepler didn’t mention the part he had played. After landing and obtaining Laboratory space, it had seemed a waste not to go ahead and analyze the samples he’d pilfered, back on the Bradbury, of Kepler’s pharmacopoeia.

No one asked where he got his samples, fortunately. Although the base surgeon, when consulted, thought that some of the doses seemed a bit high, all but one of the drugs turned out to be standard for treatment of mild manic states.

The unknown drug stayed at the back of- Jacob’s mind; one more mystery to solve. What sort of physical problem did Kepler have that required large doses of a powerful anticoagulant? Physician Laird had been incensed. Why had Martine prescribed Warfarin?

“Are you sure you’re well enough to be up here now?” deSilva asked Kepler. She helped the physician guide him to a chair.

“I’m all right,” he answered. “Besides, there are things that just won’t wait.

“First of all, I’m not at all sure about Millie’s theory that the Ghosts would greet Pil Bubbacub or Kant Fagin with more enthusiasm than they’ve shown to the rest of us. I do know that I’m definitely not taking responsibility for taking them down on a dive! The reason is that if they were killed down there it wouldn’t be at the hands of the Solarians… it would be caused by human beings! There should be another dive right away… without our distinguished extraterrestrial friends, of course… but it should leave immediately to go to the same region, as Millie suggested.”

DeSilva shook her head emphatically. “I don’t agree at all, sir! Either Jeff was killed by the Ghosts, or something went wrong with his ship. And I think it was the latter, much as I hate to admit it… We should check everything out before…”

“Oh, there’s no doubt it was the ship,” Kepler interrupted. “The Ghosts didn’t kill anybody.”

“What is it you say?” LaRoque shouted. “Are you a blind man? How can you deny the obvious facts!”