the Moon. But I see your point. Let's suppose the, uh, Sea Statue civilization had a law against picking pockets. Most countries had such laws, you know, before we got so crowded the cops couldn't enforce them.'
'I remember.'
Snyder's eyes widened. 'You do? Yes, I suppose you do. Well, suppose Larry in his present state found someone picking his pocket. His impulse would be to stop him, but not to yell for a policeman. He'd have to make a conscious decision to do that. This would be unlikely until after the fight was over and he'd had time to think.'
'If I caught him by surprise I could count on his human reflexes.'
'Yes, but don't confuse reflexes with motivations. You don't know what his motivations are now.'
'Go on.'
Snyder leaned back and folded his hands behind his head. A waiter glided up and produced drinks from a well in its torso. Garner paid it and shooed it away.
Abruptly Snyder was talking. 'You know what he looks like: five feet seven inches tall, dark and fairly, handsome. His parents were Orthodox, but they weren't millionaires, they couldn't afford a fully kosher diet. He's very well adjusted, and he has enormous resilience, which is why he was able to take up contact telepathy.
'He does have some feelings about his height, but nothing we need bother about. They are partly compensated by what he calls 'that little extra something about me. '
'Mrs. Greenberg told me.'
'Partly he means his telepathy. Partly it's the medical anomaly I assume Judy mentioned. But he's in dead earnest in regarding himself as something special.
'You might also remember that he's been reading minds for years, human and dolphin minds. This gives him an accumulation of useful data. I doubt if the dolphins are important, but there were physics professors, math students, and psychologists among the volunteers who let Larry read their minds by contact. You could call him superbly educated.' Snyder straightened. 'Remember this, when you go out after him. You don't know the Sea Statue's intelligence, but Larry has his own intelligence and nobody else's. He's clever, and adaptable, and unusually sure of himself. He's suspicious of superstition, but genuinely religious. His reflexes are excellent. I know. I've played tennis with him: Judy and I against him alone, with Larry guarding the singles court.'
'Then I'd better stay alert.'
'Absolutely.'
'Suppose his religion was threatened. How would he react?'
'You mean Orthodox Judaism?'
'No, I mean any religion he now happens to hold. Wait, I'll expand that. How would he react to a threat against something he's believed in all his life?'
'It would make him angry, of course. But he's not a fanatic. Challenge him and he'd be willing to argue. But to make him change his mind about something basic, you'd have to offer real proof. You couldn't just cast doubts. If you see what I mean.'
On the great white screen in the Space Traffic Control Center, two dark blobs hung almost motionless. Halley Johnson swung his phone camera around so Garner could see it.
'The military ship is going just a teeny bit faster than the honeymooner. If they're really going all the way to Neptune they'll pass each other.'
'Where else could they be going?'
'A number of asteroids. I have a list.'
'Let's hear it.'
Johnson read off the names of fourteen minor Greek deities. 'A lot more have been crossed off,' he added. 'When the ship passes turnover point and keeps accelerating, we mark it out.'
'Okay. Keep me posted. How 'bout my ship?'
'Be here at twenty. You'll be in orbit by twenty-one.'
The Struldbrugs' Club is not the only club with a lower age limit on its members. (Consider the Senate.) It is the only club whose age limit rises one year for every two that passes. In 2106 every member was at least one hundred and forty-nine years old. Naturally the Struldbrugs' autodocs were the best in the world.
But the treatment tanks still looked like oversized coffins.
Luke pulled himself out of the tank and read the itemized bill. It was a long one. The 'doc had hooked by induction into his spine and done deep knee bends to build up muscle tone; recharged the tiny battery in his heart; and added hormones and more esoteric substances to his bloodstream. Localized ultrasonic pulses had applied the Ch'ien treatment; Luke could feel the ache from the base of his skull all the way down his spine, to where sensation almost disappeared in the small of his back. A manicure and pedicure had finished the checkup.
Luke used his Arm ident to punch for a six months' supply of the hormones, antiallergens, selective pest killers, and general rejuvenators which kept him alive and healthy. What came out of the slot was a hypodermic the size of a beer can, with instructions all down the sides in fine print. Luke tightened his lips at the sight of the needle; but you can't use a spray hypo when you've got to hit the vein. He told the 'doc where to send the bill.
One more chore and he could take a cat nap.
Because of the decrepit state of many Struldbrugs, the club phone booths had been made large enough for travel chairs barely. Already Luke had the air translucent with cigarette smoke. 'How do you talk to a dolphin?' he asked, feeling unaccountably diffident.
Fred Torrance said, 'Just the way you would have talked to Larry. But Charley will answer in dolphinese, and I'll translate. You couldn't make out his English over the phone.'
'Okay. Charley, my name's Lucas Garner. I'm with the Arms. Do you know what's happened to Larry?'
Grunts, chortles, whistles, squeals, and squeaks! Only once had Luke heard the like of it. Eighteen years ago he had been a witness at a murder trial. Three other witnesses- and the victim, who of course was not present- had been dolphins.
Torrance translated: 'He knows Larry's lost his sense of identity. Dr. Jansky called and told us all about it.'
'Well, yesterday Larry got away from us and took off in a stolen ship. I'm going after him. I want to know everything Charley can tell us about him.'
Dolphin language. Torrance said, 'Charley wants a favor in return.'
'Oh, really? What?' Luke braced himself. Since the cracking of the swimmer-dolphin language barrier, the dolphins had proved very able bargainers. Fortunately or not, the dolphins' rigid, complex moral code had adapted easily to the walker concept of trade.
'He wants to talk to you about the possibility of dolphins taking part in the seeding of the stars.'
Of the three present, Torrance the seadoc had the clearest understanding of what was being said. Charley was speaking slowly and clearly, staying well below the ultrasonic range, but even so Torrance often had trouble translating. To him the bilingual conversation went like this:
'I'll be damned in writing,' said Garner. 'Charley, is this a new idea? I've never heard of a dolphin wanting to go starhopping.'
'Not… brand new. The question has been discussed on the abstract level, and many are in favor of it, if only from the fear that swimmers will be left out of something. But I, myself, never felt the urge until three days ago.'
'Greenberg. He had the space bug bad, did he?'
'Please use the present tense. Yes, he has the bug all right. I've had a couple of days to get used to Larry in my head. I won't say I quite understand this urge to reach Jinx, but I can explain a little of it.
'I dislike using an outmoded term, but part of it is'- Charley used the English words- ''anifesst desstinee. Part is the fact that on Jinx he could have as many children as he wants, four or five even, and nobody would complain. Partly it is the same urge I sometimes get in this tank. No room to swim. Larrry wants to walk down a street without the slightest fear of stepping on someone's toes, having his pocket picked, or getting caught in a pedestrian traffic jam and being carried six blocks the wrong way. Notice that I've put considerably more thought into analyzing this than Larrry ever did.'
