I/we await your/our next command. The Ree mind spoke soundlessly in the awesome silence.
Three months had passed since the referendum which had swept John Mallory into office as Premier of the First Planetary Republic. He stood in a room of his spacious apartment in the Executive Palace, frowning at the slender black-haired woman as she spoke earnestly to him.
“John—I’m afraid of that—that infernal machine, eternally hovering, waiting for your orders.”
“But why, Monica? That infernal machine, as you call it, was the thing that made a free election possible—and even now it’s all that holds Koslo’s old organization in check.”
“John—” Her hand gripped his arm. “With that—thing—always at your beck and call, you can control anyone, anything on Earth! No opposition can stand before you!”
She looked directly at him. “It isn’t right for anyone to have such power, John. Not even you. No human being should be put to such a test!”
His face tightened. “Have I misused it?”
“Not yet. That’s why…”
“You imply that I will?”
“You’re a man, with the failings of a man.”
“I propose only what’s good for the people of Earth,” he said sharply. “Would you have me voluntarily throw away the one weapon that can protect our hard-won freedom?”
“But, John—who are you to be the sole arbiter of what’s good for the people of Earth?”
“I’m Chairman of the Republic—”
“You’re still human. Stop—while you’re still human!”
He studied her face. “You resent my success, don’t you? What would you have me do? Resign?”
“I want you to send the machine away—back to wherever it came from.”
He laughed shortly. “Are you out of your mind? I haven’t begun to extract the technological secrets the Ree ship represents.”
“We’re not ready for those secrets, John. The race isn’t ready. It’s already changed you. In the end it can only destroy you as a man.”
“Nonsense. I control it utterly. It’s like an extension of my own mind—”
“John—please. If not for my sake or your own, for Dian’s.”
“What’s the child got to do with this?”
“She’s your daughter. She hardly sees you once a week.”
“That’s the price she pays for being the heir to the greatest man—I mean—damn it, Monica, my responsibilities don’t permit me to indulge in all the suburban customs.”
“John—” Her voice was a whisper, painful in its intensity. “Send it away.”
“No. I won’t send it away.”
Her face was pale. “Very well, John. As you wish.”
“Yes. As I wish.”
After she left the room, Mallory stood for a long time staring out through the high window at the tiny craft, hovering in the blue air fifty feet away, silent, ready.
Then: Ree mind, he sent out the call. Probe the apartments of the woman, Monica. I have reason to suspect she plots treason against the state…