“Hunk is invaluable, because he is slightly telepathic.”
“An Esper?”
“Yes. The Romaghins tell you there are no such things. But he is a living contradiction.”
Hunk lifted a tuft of lettuce and munched on it.
“Hunk tells us when he senses any Muties in distress. When an individual, especially a Mutie, is under pressure, in pain, or just plain scared, he radiates a stronger thought pattern. Hunk can then pick it up. We go into action on his advice. Not every hutch, which is what we call this place, is lucky enough to have a telepath.”
“Hunk tells you when a ship with Muties is approaching.”
“Exactly,” Corgi said, taking a sip of his wine, an amber fluid that sparkled like prisms, refracting the light as if it were a gem and not a liquid. “And I have a multiplex brain.”
“A what?”
Mayna nibbled away at another bean.
“A multiplex brain. I see what is happening now and can plot the possible futures for it in an instant.”
“You see the future?”
“No, no. Nothing so wonderful and horrible as that. I see the possibilities. There are thousands, millions, countless possible futures. I scan them at any moment of crisis. If ninety percent of the futures say we will fail in the mission, we do not jeopardize ourselves. If the chances are fifty-fifty or better in our favor, we go through with it.”
“Fifty-fifty odds are not so terribly good,” Tohm said.
Corgi shrugged and sipped more wine.
Tohm sipped more wine.
“And of course,” Corgi went on, “we all can reach Out There, and we all have the power to distort the Fringe. That's the psi benefit we all seem to have inherited.”
Tohm set the wine goblet down. “That's what I don't understand. What is all this business about the Fringe and shell molecules and exchange?”
Corgi shifted heavily in his chair. “It's rather hard to explain to someone who doesn't understand the basics of physics or the general common terminology involved. But there is a way to rid the universe of the Romaghins and Setessins. And, to my fellow Muties, I want to announce now that Hunk has brought me information which changes all our plans.”
All heads turned to Hunk.
“I don't know,” he began, folding his pseudo-arms on the table. “Perhaps it was the force we exerted, greater than any group has yet. But being that close to it, I had a
The hush continued around the table for some seconds.
“By God!” Babe said.
Fish flapped his gills excitedly.
“Hunk, I love you,” Mayna said.
“I have contacted the Old Man,” Corgi said. “In a week, he says, we will be ready to try it. We're going to agglomerate our forces on the pro-Mutie worlds of the Federation and hope that the Romaghins and Setessins do not discover that something is up before we can act.”
“Wait,” Tohm said, his voice shaky. “What about my Tarnilee?”
“Good God!” Fish said. “Don't you realize that this is much more important than any one person? Don't you see what this will mean?”
Tohm stood, suddenly angry. “I see that it means you will not help me, that you'll all go back on your word. I see I've been a fool!”
“Wait!” Corgi shouted, standing too. “He's right. We did promise him. We can make arrangements to be the last group evacuated and still have time to help him find his bride.”
“I agree,” Babe said.
“Me too.' — Hunk.
Mayna sat in silence.
“Tomorrow the search will begin,” Corgi said. “Today, since we cannot accompany you into the streets, you will memorize the street plan of the city. I'll help you. We have teach machines to hypno some of it in, the rest we'll club you with until you have scars to remind you. You'll know the capital inside out, upside down.”
They both sat down once again.
“We never want to become like the Romaghins or the Setessins. We keep our word. We are fighting hypocrisy, friends; we don't want to give in to it.”
The remainder of the afternoon was passed with intermittent sessions in the hypno-teacher and with Corgi and Babe pounding him with questions, testing what he had learned, strengthening his weak points, visualizing the positions of the buildings which the hypno-teacher had given him. An hour before supper, Corgi suggested he go shower and rest, noting that they would continue in the evening. Tired, he agreed.
He left the central control chamber and entered the halls. There were about a dozen of them, he understood, all with empty rooms, rooms once filled by other Muties. He reached the twist in the corridor that would take him to his own room, and he heard the singing.
Lilting…
Lilting, sweet, the notes rose to his ears, faintly, like a siren singing from her rocks…
Soft…
Melodic…
Almost trancing…
He followed the sound, bending from one corridor to another. Eventually he came to a hall that ended in natural stone, dipping down into what appeared to be a cave. Here the robots had stopped spewing out all form plasti-jell.
Lilting…
He walked to the cave mouth, sidled through the narrow entranceway, and looked about.
Melodic, trilling of birds but not quite…
Limestone stalactites plunged down and met stalagmites soaring up, wedded them midway. The stones sparkled with different colors. A film of moisture lay on the floor, and droplets of limy water dripped from the ceiling. The water was speaking to him even here:
Lilting…
Melodic…
The singing was louder now and was tinged with a faint echo. He followed the sound through a narrow tunnel and came out into a much larger room where a small underground stream emptied into a shallow lake that reflected the uneven ceiling with mirror clarity so that the water almost denied its own presence.
She was sitting on a rock overlooking the water, her knees drawn up, curled much like a cat sitting upon a window ledge. Her back was to him, her hair falling to the middle of it, sleek and shiny.
“That's beautiful,” he said.
She didn't turn around. “I knew you were there. Thought you were watching in secret, huh?” She did turn around now, smiling.
He could do nothing but smile in return.
“I have ears like a cat,” she laughed. “I heard you when you first stepped from the hallway.”
“I'm clumsy by nature,” he said, sitting next to her. “What are all these caves?”
“The land about here is honeycombed with them, for we transferred them with the city. We have an exit, a back door, through these caverns.” “The song you were singing—”
