towards victory.” Tiorin scowled. “We have the mystique of our blood to draw support, descended as we are from the Warden who steered Asconel through the storms which followed the collapse of Argian influence in our sector of the galaxy. That might tip the scales in our favor. But after ourselves, I know no one more likely to rally resistance to Bucyon than Tigrid Zen, and if he’s failed…” He shrugged despondently.
“We’re guessing,” Spartak said angrily. “What we need to do is make straight for Asconel—contact Tigrid Zen if we can, but not chasing him if he’s gone hunting support in some other system. Then on Asconel, perhaps disguised, we ought to—”
He broke off. Tiorin was gazing at him queerly.
“What is it?” he demanded.
“You just said ‘make straight for Asconel’,” Tiorin exclaimed. “And nothing happened to you! When Vix said the same thing, more or less, he doubled up in pain.”
Blank, Spartak tried it again. “We should make straight for Asconel. I want to go straight there now. I intend to go straight there now.” He jumped to his feet. “By the moons of Argus, you’re right! Vix, try it!” Excitedly, he rounded on the redhead.
“I—!” Vix moistened his lips and gathered his courage, fearing another blast of the torture which had overcome him moments earlier. “I want to go to Asconel. Now.”
And slowly a smile replaced his look of anxiety.
“The conditioning’s failed!” Tiorin exploded. “It must have been badly implanted—”
“No!” Spartak rapped. “I felt it, and believe me, I
know.
The psychologists who treated us knew their job. Either we’re suffering from a delusion, implanted as a second line of defense against the breakdown of the main commands, or—No, that can’t be right. We have you as a control, Tiorin; you’re not conditioned, and you’d observe that. Then that leaves one single possibility, and I think I know what it is.”
“Tell us!” cried Vix, almost beside himself with joy at being unexpectedly released from his invisible bonds.
“Eunora,” Spartak said.
“What? The—the mind-reading girl?” Vix took half a pace back as though recoiling from a physical shock. “But—how?”
“I don’t pretend to know that,” Spartak said. “I’m just eliminating the things I know to be out of the question, and I find one unknown factor operating. Let’s go see her and find out—”
“That won’t be necessary,” a soft voice said, and the panel of the door slid aside to reveal Eunora herself. Spartak had not realized till this moment how tiny she actually was; she barely came to Vix’s elbow, and he was the shortest of the three men. She had borrowed one of the costumes he had seen in Vineta’s closet when he boarded the ship on Annanworld, and it hung loosely on her as though she were a child dressing up in her mother’s clothes.
“Eunora! Did you take the conditioning off us?” Spartak blurted.
The girl gave a grave nod.
“Then I can’t begin to tell you how grateful we are!”
“That’s right!” Vix confirmed. His face was alight with enthusiasm. “Why, you may have saved a whole planet’s people by saving us that trip to Nylock!”
Eunora didn’t answer at once. She walked into the control room with careful, mincing steps, seeming still to befinding out how her unparalyzed legs should support her. Behind her, a trifle nervous, but looking calm enough, came Vineta, who had presumably tried to dissuade her from leaving her cabin and failed.
“I didn’t know about this—this
conditioning,”
the mutant girl said at last. “It was only when I felt the pain and twisting in your mind”—nodding to Vix—“that I decided I had to find out about it. It’s… interesting.”
A nameless premonition filled the air.
“It’s difficult being a mutant,” the soft voice went on. “Hardly daring to use the gift—afraid all the time that it will leak out and then there’ll be… killing. But it’s
“We’re guessing,” Spartak said angrily. “What we need to do is make straight for Asconel—contact Tigrid Zen if we can, but not chasing him if he’s gone hunting support in some other system. Then on Asconel, perhaps disguised, we ought to—”
He broke off. Tiorin was gazing at him queerly.
“What is it?” he demanded.
“You just said ‘make straight for Asconel’,” Tiorin exclaimed. “And nothing happened to you! When Vix said the same thing, more or less, he doubled up in pain.”
Blank, Spartak tried it again. “We should make straight for Asconel. I want to go straight there now. I intend to go straight there now.” He jumped to his feet. “By the moons of Argus, you’re right! Vix, try it!” Excitedly, he rounded on the redhead.
“I—!” Vix moistened his lips and gathered his courage, fearing another blast of the torture which had overcome him moments earlier. “I want to go to Asconel. Now.”
And slowly a smile replaced his look of anxiety.
“The conditioning’s failed!” Tiorin exploded. “It must have been badly implanted—”
“No!” Spartak rapped. “I felt it, and believe me, I
know.
The psychologists who treated us knew their job. Either we’re suffering from a delusion, implanted as a second line of defense against the breakdown of the main commands, or—No, that can’t be right. We have you as a control, Tiorin; you’re not conditioned, and you’d observe that. Then that leaves one single possibility, and I think I know what it is.”
“Tell us!” cried Vix, almost beside himself with joy at being unexpectedly released from his invisible bonds.
“Eunora,” Spartak said.
“What? The—the mind-reading girl?” Vix took half a pace back as though recoiling from a physical shock. “But—how?”
“I don’t pretend to know that,” Spartak said. “I’m just eliminating the things I know to be out of the question, and I find one unknown factor operating. Let’s go see her and find out—”
“That won’t be necessary,” a soft voice said, and the panel of the door slid aside to reveal Eunora herself. Spartak had not realized till this moment how tiny she actually was; she barely came to Vix’s elbow, and he was the shortest of the three men. She had borrowed one of the costumes he had seen in Vineta’s closet when he boarded the ship on Annanworld, and it hung loosely on her as though she were a child dressing up in her mother’s clothes.
“Eunora! Did you take the conditioning off us?” Spartak blurted.
The girl gave a grave nod.
“Then I can’t begin to tell you how grateful we are!”
“That’s right!” Vix confirmed. His face was alight with enthusiasm. “Why, you may have saved a whole planet’s people by saving us that trip to Nylock!”
Eunora didn’t answer at once. She walked into the control room with careful, mincing steps, seeming still to befinding out how her unparalyzed legs should support her. Behind her, a trifle nervous, but looking calm enough, came Vineta, who had presumably tried to dissuade her from leaving her cabin and failed.
“I didn’t know about this—this
conditioning,”
the mutant girl said at last. “It was only when I felt the pain and twisting in your mind”—nodding to Vix—“that I decided I had to find out about it. It’s… interesting.”
A nameless premonition filled the air.
“It’s difficult being a mutant,” the soft voice went on. “Hardly daring to use the gift—afraid all the time that it will leak out and then there’ll be… killing. But it’s
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