The Mote In God's Eye

"And you'll terraform one planet for us for every one you take over?" Horvath asked. He thought of the advantages: incalculable. Few stellar systems had more than one inhabitable world. Interstellar trade was hideously expensive compared with interplanetary travel, but terraforming operations were even more costly.

"Is that not enough?" Jock asked. "Surely you appreciate our position. We have now only one planet, some asteroids, and a gas giant which is beyond even our ability to make habitable. It is worth air enormous investment in resources to double what we have available. I say this because it is obvious, although I am told that your trading procedure does not usually include admission of disadvantages. On the other hand-" The Motie looked curiously at her three hands. The humans did likewise and there was laughter. Which vas the other hand for a Motie? "Your uninhabitable planets' in suitable orbits must pot be of much value to you, or you would have terraformed them yourselves. You get, then, something for nothing, where we get a great deal for great effort. Surely a fair bargain?"

"Damn good for the Navy," Rod said. "Practically a new fleet paid for by the Moties . .

"Hold it," Senator Fowler said. "We're haggling over the price when we haven't decided what we are yet."

Jock shrugged. "I made you an offer, that's all." His imitation of the Senator's voice and mannerisms brought laughter. Ben Fowler frowned for a moment, then laughed with the others.

"Well," Fowler said. "Don't know that everything's settled, but I do know I'm gettin' hungry. Kelley, bring our guests some of that chocolate and ring down for dinner. We may as well be comfortable while we finish this discussion."

54 Out of the Bottle

"It is close," Jock reported. "Almost the Senator agrees. Sally already has."

"And Blaine?" Ivan demanded.

"He will do as the Senator wishes, although he would rather agree with Sally. He likes us, and he sees an advantage for the Navy. It is unfortunate that his Fyunch(click) went insane; she would be of great use here."

"Can it work?" Charlie asked. "Jock, how can it work? Before the new colonies are established, the Imperials will see us as we are. They will visit our system, and they will know. And then?"

They will never know," Jock said. "Their own Navy will prevent it. There will be visits by unarmed ships, but they will risk no more naval vessels. Can we not deceive a few ships full of humans? They can never speak our language. We will have time to prepare for them. We will never let them see Warriors. How will they learn? Meanwhile the colonies will be established. The humans can have no conception of how quickly we can establish colonies, or how quickly they will be able to build ships. We will be in a much better bargaining position then, in contact with many humans-and we can offer them anything they want. We will have allies, and we will be spread far enough that not even the Empire could exterminate us. If they cannot do it with ~certainty they will not attempt it. That is how these humans think."

The Marine brought them the drink humans called chocolate, and they drank with pleasure. Humans were omnivores like Moties, but the flavors humans preferred were generally tasteless. Chocolate, though: that was excellent, and with extra hydrocarbons to simulate the waters of the home world, it was incomparable.

"What alternatives have we?" Jock demanded. "What would they do if we told them everything? Would they not dispatch their fleet to destroy us all and save their descendants from our threat?"

"I approve this agreement," Ivan said. "Your Master will also."

"Perhaps," Charlie said. She thought, falling into a pose that excluded the world around her, She was the Master- "I can agree," she said. "It is better than I had hoped.

"But the danger!"

"There has been danger since the humans first came to the Mote system," Jock said. "It is less now than before."

Ivan observed carefully. The Mediators were excited. The strain had been great, and despite their outward control they were close to the edge. It was not part of his nature to wish for what could not be, but he hoped that the efforts to breed a more stable Mediator would succeed; it was difficult to work with creatures who might suddenly see an unreal universe and make judgments based on it. The pattern was always the same. First they wished for the impossible. Then they worked toward it, still knowing it to be impossible. Finally they acted as if the impossible could be achieved, and let that unreality influence every act. It was more common with Mediators than any other class, but it happened to Masters also.

These Mediators were close to the edge, but they would last. The Race would be preserved. It must be.

"A thousand crowns for your thoughts." Sally said. Her eyes twinkled with happiness-and relief.