Your husband simply picked out a ship that was on standby and had Lloyd take it up. Lloyd knows how to fly a Navy ship, worse luck."
"Why would Mr. Masney be taking Larry's orders?"
"Because Larry hypnotized him. I remember the whole performance."
Judy looked down at her lap. The corners of her mouth began to twitch. She began to giggle, and then to laugh. Just as the laughter threatened to become sobs, she clenched her teeth hard, held the pose for a moment, then sagged back in her chair.
"I'm all right now," she said. Her face held no laughter, only exhaustion.
"What was that all about?"
"It doesn't matter. Why would they be going to Neptune?"
"I don't know. We're not even sure that's where they're going. Don't you have some sort of telepathic link with your husband?"
"Not any more. Since he went into Dr. Jansky's time field I can't feel anything any more."
"Well, it wouldn't feel like him anyway. Do you remember how you felt at twenty hours night before last?"
"At twenty? Let me see." She closed her eyes. "Wasn't I asleep.? Oh. Something woke me up and I couldn't go back to sleep. I had the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Monsters in the shadows. I was right, wasn't I?"
"Yes. Especially if it was Larry's mind you felt." He gave that a moment to sink in. "And since then?"
"Nothing." Her small hand tapped rhythmically on the chair arm. "Nothing! Except that I want to find him. Find him! That's all I've wanted since he took the ship! Find him before he."
***
Find it! But there was no question of finding it, he told himself for the hundredth time. He had to find it first! He had to find it before Kzanol, the real Kzanol, did. And for the hundredth time he wondered if he could.
The Earth had been invisible for hours. Kzanol/Greenberg and Masney sat speechless in the control bubble, speechless and motionless. The control bubble was three quarters of the ship's living space. One could stand upright only in the airlock.
There weren't many distractions for Kzanol/Greenberg. True, he had to keep an eye on Masney. He had to do more than that. He had to know when Masney was uncomfortable, and he had to know it before Masney knew it. If Masney ever came out of hypnosis it might be difficult to get him back. So Kzanol/Greenberg had to send Masney to the lavatory; had to glve him water before he was thirsty; had to exercise him before his muscles could cramp from sitting. Masney was not like the usual slave, who could take care of himself when not needed.
Other than that, the self-styled ptavv was dead weight. He spent hours at a time just sitting and thinking. Not planning, for there was nothing to plan. He either reached the eighth planet first, or he didn't. Either he put on the amplifier helmet, or the real Kzanol did, and then there would be no more planning, ever. No mind shield could face an amplifier helmet. On the other hand, the helmet would make him Kzanol's master. Using an amplifier on a thrint was illegal, but he was hardly in danger of thrintun law.
(Would an amplifier boost the Power of a slave brain? He pushed the thought aside again.)
The far future was bleak at best. He was the last thrint; he couldn't even breed the real Kzanol to get more. Yes, he would be master of an asteroid belt and a heavily populated slave world; yes, he would be richer than even Grandfather Racarliw. But Grandfather had had hundreds of wives, a thousand children!
Kzanol/Greenberg's hundreds of wives would be human slaves, as would his thousand children. Lower-than-ptavvs, every one.
Would he find "women" beautiful? Could he mate with them? Probably. He would have to try it; but his glands were emphatically not Kzanol's glands. In any case he would choose his women by Larry Greenberg's standards of beauty-- yes, Greenberg's, regardless of how he felt, for much of the glory in being rich is showing it off, and he would have nobody to impress but slaves.
A dismal prospect.
He would have liked to lose himself in
Louann Md Brizendine
Brendan Verville
Allison Hobbs
C. A. Szarek
Michael Innes
Madeleine E. Robins
David Simpson
The Sextet
Alan Beechey
Delphine Dryden