“Not just now—I feel a thinking spell coming on. I’ll just sit here a while.”
Senilde made heavy going of the stairs. However healthy his cells might be, centuries of lack of exercise had done nothing for his muscles or his mind. He was right in another respect, too: George would never have found the room. The upper part of the house was like a Chinese puzzle box: sliding panels behind sliding panels, secret passages within secret passages, concealed springs which could only function after other concealed springs had been pressed. The room itself, revealed at last, was full of control panels. Tiny lights winked everywhere and an electric hum permeated it. Things like ticker tapes were clicking out printed messages, and rows of spools revolved jerkily, winding them on. Senilde indicated them, grinning asininely. “All in different codes, and I can’t remember one of them now. Once, I could read them all.”
“Does any of them give the location of my ship?” George asked.
“Almost certainly. But how would I know which one? I can’t dicipher a word, nor even a figure.”
George grunted, between disbelief and disappointment. Senilde began snapping switches. One by one at first, then in whole banks, the little lights went out. The message machines stopped. The hum slowly faded from hearing. Then all the apparatus was still, silent, dead.
“There you are,” said Senilde.
George relaxed. Relief came like a warm current of air. He’d achieved all that was possible to save the skipper and the others—and himself.
“Thanks—let’s go.”
They threaded their way out through the maze of secret ways. Senilde methodically closed the panels behind them. When they reached the lounge, Leep was still sitting there quietly.
George said, lightly: “How now, soothsayer, have you been visited by any inspirations?”
Leep regarded him thoughtfully. “Yes. I was thinking about your space-ship. And all at once, its exact latitude and longitude flashed into my mind.”
George glowed. “Great! You’re real smart, Leep. Where’s the ship?”
“The Teleo conveys an ambiguous meaning to that word ‘smart’,” said Leep.
“You’re correct in the sense that I have a strong instinct for self-preservation.”
“Sure—haven’t we all? Naturally it’s in your interest to help locate the ship so that you can come to Earth with us.”
“I don’t particularly want to go to Earth now,” said Leep. “If I go, I shall be well-fed—granted. But also I’ll be constantly harassed and importuned to use my gifts for others, to become a common fortune-teller. I’m an old man and in the normal way shan’t live much longer. I resent any limitation on my time for meditation. I’ve always resented the time wasted on the necessity for getting food. No, I’m quite willing to give my place in the ship to Senilde here.”
“To go to Earth?” said Senilde, surprised. “What makes you imagine I should want to go to Earth?”
Leep said, calmly: “You’ve exhausted all the pleasures of Venus, and you’re bored sick. On Earth there must be innumerable new pleasures you’ve never tasted, never even imagined. Again, the Earthlings are very shortlived. With your wisdom, knowledge, experience, authority, and invulnerability you would soon become their ruler. It’s inevitable that an immortal should rule mere mortals.”
Mara laughed at the cool cheek of it.
But George stammered with anger: “Why, you two-faced pocket Machiavelli, I wouldn’t l-let you come aboard the ship now to save my l-life!”
Leep said, softly: “You can’t go aboard the ship yourself if you can’t find it. I’ll tell you this: it’s very far from here. It would take weeks to walk there, even if you walked in the right direction. If you didn’t, it might take years.”
Mara said, shrewdly: “In return for directing us and Senilde to the ship, so that we can go to Earth, you wish Senilde to give you the secret of immortality, don’t you?”
“That’s it,” said Senilde. “I said before you were intelligent, Mara. Obviously more intelligent than this cracked visionary who imagines he can strike bargains with
“I have set my heart on becoming an immortal,” said Leep. “To meditate, forever, without distraction, without ever having to worry again about finding food!”
“Rubbish!” snapped Senilde. “You’d become as bored as I am, and long for death, as often I have done. Immortality is a curse. I’ll be kind, and save you from it.”
