Clane said: "Does the reading of minds have any relation to your method of transportation?"
Marden sounded surprised. "Why, of course. You learn them at the same time, though it takes longer."
He climbed down from the tree, carrying his pail. "All this time while you've been talking, there's been a question in the back of your mind. It's your main reason for this visit. I can't quite make it out, but if you
will ask it, I'll answer as best I can, and then I can go to lunch."
Clane took out his star map. "Have you ever seen one of these?"
Marden smiled. "At night, I look up into the sky, and there it is."
"Apart from that?"
"I have seen occasional thoughts about such maps in the minds of the Riss."
Clane held the map up for him. "Here is your sun," he said. He pointed. Then brought his finger down. "And here is ours. Can you use the knowledge in my mind about such things to orient yourself to this map, and point out to me which is the nearest Riss sun?"
There was a long silence. Marden studied the map. "It's hard," he sighed. "But I think it's this one."
Clane marked it with trembling fingers, then said huskily, "Marden, be as sure as you can. If you're wrong, and we go there, we will have wasted half a year or more. Millions of people may die."
"It's either this one or this one," said Marden. He pointed at a star about an inch from the other one.
Clane shook his head. "That one's a hundred light-years, and this one about twenty."
"Then it's the close one. I have no impression of the distance being very great."
"Thank you," said Clane. "I'm sorry to have been such a nuisance."
Marden shrugged.
"Good-by," said Clane.
He turned and headed back to the liftboat.
17
Back on the ship, he read Czinczar's letters with an unhappy sense of more trouble to come. He ate lunch, and then, bracing himself, invited the angry barbarian for a conference.
He included an apology in his letter. He explained where he had been, though not his purpose in visiting Marden.
That account he saved until Czinczar and he were alone together. When he had finished, the great man sat for a long time saying not a word. He seemed unutterably nonplussed. At last, he said in a mild tone: "You have no faith in the chlorodel plant?"
Clane said: "I see it as a weapon of last resort. We mustn't use it till we are sure we understand all the possible repercussions."
Czinczar sighed. "Your action in producing the chlorodel as a weapon had decided me that his journey was worthwhile after all. Now you yourself devaluate it, and suggest that we extend our trip to take in the planets of another star."
He brought up one hand, as if he would use it somehow to make his protest more effective. He seemed to realize the futility of that, for he spoke again.
"I confess it baffles me. What can you possibly hope to gain by going to a Riss planet?"
Clane said earnestly: "If Marden is right, it would take us three months. Actually, the Riss star is almost, though not quite, as near to Earth as this one." He paused. He was anxious to have moral support for the journey. He went on, "I honestly believe it is our duty to investigate the potentialities of taking counteraction against man's deadly enemy. This war will not be won on the defensive."
He saw that Czinczar was looking straight at him. The barbarian said: "If Marden is right—that's a damning phrase." He shook his head in visible despair. "I give up. Anybody who will order a ship as big and important as this one to make a trip on the strength of Marden's memory of what he saw in the mind of a Riss—"
He broke off. "Surely, there must be maps aboard the Solar Star.
Clane hesitated. This was a sore point with him. He said carefully: "We had an unfortunate accident at the time we took over the ship. Everyone was in an exploring frame of mind, and one of the men wandered into the map room. Can you guess the rest?"
"They'd set energy traps for interlopers."
"He was killed, of course," Clane nodded drably. "It was a lesson for us all. I discovered that all the main control and mechanical departments were similarly mined. We used condemned slaves to do the dangerous work, promising them freedom if they were successful. Result: Only one other accident."
"What was that?" asked the ever-curious Czinczar.
"The interstellar television communicator," Clane replied. He broke off. "I regret as much as you do that we have to make our next move on the basis of Marden's memory."
He hesitated, then made his appeal. "Czinczar," he said slowly, "although I have apparently ignored your opinions on this journey, I do have a high respect for them. I sincerely believe you are being too narrowly practical. You are too bound to the solar system. I don't think you realize how much you think of it as a home that must be defended to the death. But never mind that. What I have to say to you is no longer based strictly on logic, or even on whether or not we are in agreement.
"I ask for your support because, first, I am the commander of this ship for better or worse; second, if we do come to a Riss planet I intend us to take enormous risks—and that will require your fullest cooperation; third, in spite of all your doubts, you yourself feel that the discovery of the chlorodel plant partially justifies the journey so far. I disagree with that, but at least it goes to show that there are secrets to be discovered out here."
He finished quietly: "That's all I have to say. What's your answer?"
Czinczar said: "In our correspondence, and in our present discussion, neither you nor I have referred to the Outlander method of transportation. What is your reason for not mentioning it? Don't you think it has any value?"
The very extent of the thoughts he had had on the subject held Clane momentarily silent. He said finally, "It would be a terrific advantage, but I can't see it as being decisive—as it now stands. Besides, we can't get it."
He explained the efforts he had made, and the impossibility of gaining the secret from the mercurial inhabitants. He finished:
"I do have a plan about it. My idea is that we leave behind young couples to whom children were born during the trip. Their instructions will be to try to have their youngsters trained by the Outlanders. That
will take nine years."
"I see." Czinczar frowned at the floor, finally stood up. "If there's any fighting to do when we get to the Riss planet, call on me. Is that what you mean by support?"
Clane smiled wanly, and also stood up. "I suppose so," he said. "I suppose so."
Lord Clane Linn walked slowly to the weapon control room after separating from Czinczar. For a long time, he sat in one of the giant chairs, idly manipulating a viewing instrument. Finally, he shook his head. The unpleasant fact was that Czinczar's doubts about accepting Marden's directions had convinced him. Such a trip still had to be made, but not on such a flimsy basis.
Unfortunately, the only other idea he had was so wild—and dangerous—he still hadn't mentioned it to anyone. Even Czinczar had not suggested an attack on the other Riss battleship.
Six hours went by. And then a message arrived from the barbarian leader.
Dear Lord Clane:
The ship is not accelerating. What's the matter? If we are going on this journey, we should be on our way.
Czinczar.
Clane bit his lips over the letter. He did not answer it immediately, but its arrival stiffened him to the need for a decision. At least, he thought, I could go down again, and see Marden.