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By Root 1583 0

Hardy cleared his throat. Everyone turned toward the Chaplain, and Hardy seemed embarrassed. Then he smiled. “I always knew study of the classics would have some practical value. Are any of you familiar with Plato’s Republic? No, of course not. Well, on the first page, Socrates, conceded to be the most persuasive man who ever lived, is told by his friends that either Socrates will stay overnight with them, or his friends will compel him to do so by force. Socrates asks reasonably if there is not an alternative—can he not persuade them to let him go home. The reply, of course, is that he won’t be able to because his friends won’t listen to him.”

There was a short silence.

“Oh,” said Sally. “Of course. If the Moties never meet Admiral Kutuzov, or Captain Mikhailov—or any of Lenin’s crew—how could they talk them into anything? Surely, Mr. Bury, you don’t imagine they could persuade MacArthur’s crew to mutiny?”

Bury shrugged. “My lady, with all respect, have you thought of what the Moties can offer? More wealth than exists in the Empire. Men have been corrupted by far less—”

And you’ve done it, too, Sally thought.

“If they’re that good, why haven’t they done it already?” Kevin Renner’s voice was mocking, just short of insubordination. With his discharge due as soon as they returned to New Scotland, Renner could afford any action that wouldn’t get him formally charged.

“Possibly they have not yet needed to do so,” Bury said.

“More likely they can’t do it,” Renner retorted. “And if they can read minds, they’ve already got every secret we have. They associated with Sinclair, who knows how to fix everything in the Navy—they had a Fyunch(click) assigned to my Lord Blaine, who’s got to know every political secret—”

“They were never in direct contact with Captain Blaine,” Bury reminded him.

“They had Miss Fowler for as long as they needed.” Renner chuckled at some interior joke. “She must know more about Empire politics than most of us. Mr. Bury, the Moties are good, but they’re not that good, at persuasion, or at mind reading.”

“I would be inclined to agree with Mr. Renner,” Hardy added. “Although certainly the precautions suggested by Miss Fowler would be in order. Confine contact with the aliens to a select few: myself, for example. I doubt that they could corrupt me, but even if they could, I have no command authority. Mr. Bury, if he’ll accept. Not, I suggest, Dr. Horvath or any scientist with access to complex equipment, and no ratings or Marines except under supervision both direct and by intercom. It may be rather hard on the Moties, but I think there could be little danger to Lenin.”

“Um. Well, Mr. Bury?” Kutuzov asked.

“But—I tell you, they’re dangerous! The technological abilities are beyond belief. Allah the Merciful, who can know what they can construct from harmless items? Weapons, communications equipment, escape gear—” Bury’s calm manner was evaporating and he struggled to contain himself.

“I withdraw the suggestion that Mr. Bury be given access to the Moties,” Hardy said carefully. “I doubt if they would survive the experience. My apologies, Your Excellency.”

Bury muttered in Arabic. Too late he realized that Hardy was a linguist.

“Oh, surely not,” Hardy said with a smile. “I know my ancestry much better than that.”

“I can see, Admiral,” Bury said, “that I have not been sufficiently persuasive. I’m sorry, because for once I have no motives but the welfare of the Empire. If I were interested only in profits— I am not slow to realize the trade potentials and the wealth to be made from the Moties. But I consider them the greatest danger the human race has ever faced.”

“Da.” Kutuzov spoke decisively. “On that we may possibly agree, if we add one word: potential danger, Excellency. What we consider here is lesser risk, and unless there is risk to Lenin I am now persuaded that lesser risk is to transport these ambassadors under conditions suggested by Chaplain Hardy. Dr. Horvath: you agree?”

“If that’s the only way we can take them, yes. I think it’s shameful to treat them this way—”

“Bah. Captain Blaine.