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3. Yeast!
LUCKY'S EXPRESSION REMAINED IMPASSIVE. Not by SO
much as an eye flicker did he betray any concern. "Details, please," he said.
Morriss was smiling again, half his mouth hidden by his preposterous Venusian mustache. "Not here, I'm afraid."
"Name your place, then."
"One moment." Morriss looked at his watch. "In just about a minute, the show will begin. There'll be dancing by sealight."
"Sealight?"
"The globe above will shine dim green. People will get up to dance. We will get up with them and quietly leave."
"You sound as though we are in danger at the moment."
Morriss said gravely, "You are. I assure you that since you entered Aphrodite, our men have never let you out of their sight."
A genial voice rang out suddenly. It seemed to come from the crystal centerpiece on the table. From the direction in which other diners turned their attention, it obviously came from the crystal centerpiece on every table.
It said, "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Green Room. Have you eaten well? For your added pleasure, the management is proud to present the magnetonic rhythms of Tobe Tobias and his-"
As the voice spoke, the lights went out and the remainder of its words were drowned in a rising sigh of wonder that came from the assembled guests, most of whom were fresh from Earth. The aquarium globe in the ceiling was suddenly a luminous emerald green and the sea-ribbon glow was sharply brilliant. The globe assumed a faceted appearance so that, as it turned, drifting shadows circled the room in a soft, almost hypnotic fashion. The sound of music, drawn almost entirely from the weird, husky sound boxes of a variety of magnetonic instruments, grew louder. The notes were produced by rods of various shapes being moved in skillful patterns through the magnetic field that surrounded each instrument.
Men and women were rising to dance. There was the rustle of much motion and the sibilance of laughing whispers. A touch on Lucky's sleeve brought first him, and then Bigman, to their feet.
Lucky and Bigman followed Morriss silently. One by one, grim-faced figures fell in behind them. It was almost as though they were materializing out of the draperies. They remained far enough away to look i
Lucky looked about Morriss's apartment with approval. It was not lavish, although it was comfortable. Living in it, one could forget that a hundred yards above was a translucent dome beyond which was a hundred yards of shallow, carbonated ocean, followed by a hundred miles of alien, unbreathable atmosphere.
What actually pleased Lucky most was the collection of book films that overflowed one alcove.
He said, "You're a biophysicist, Dr. Morriss?" Automatically, he used the professional title.
Morriss said, "Yes."
"I did biophysical work myself at the academy," said Lucky.
"I know," said Morriss. "I read your paper. It was good work. May I call you David, by the way?"
"It's my first name," conceded the Earthman, "but everyone calls me lucky."
Bigman, meanwhile, had opened one of the film holders, unreeled a bit of the film, and held it to the light. He shuddered and replaced it.
He said belligerently to Morriss, "You sure don't look like a scientist."
"I imagine not," said Morriss, unoffended. "That helps, you know."
Lucky knew what he meant. In these days, when science really permeated all human society and culture, scientists could no longer restrict themselves to their laboratories. It was for that reason that the Council of Science had been born. Originally it was intended only as an advisory body to help the government on matters of galactic importance, where only trained scientists could have sufficient information to make intelligent decisions. More and more it had become a crime-fighting agency, a counterespionage system. Into its own hands it was drawing more and more of the threads of government. Through its activities there might grow, someday, a great Empire of the Milky Way in which all men might live in peace and harmony.
So it came about that, as members of the Council had to fulfill many duties far removed from pure science, it was better for their success if they didn't look par- ticularly like scientists-as long, that is, as they had the brains of scientists.
Lucky said, "Would you begin, sir, by filling me in on the details of the troubles here?"
"How much were you told on Earth?"
"The barest sketch. I would prefer to trust the man on the scene for the rest."
Morriss smiled with more than a trace of irony. "Trust the man on the scene? That's not the usual attitude of the men in the central office. They send their own trouble shooters, and men such as Evans arrive."
"And myself, too," said Lucky.
"Your case is a little different. We all know of your accomplishments on Mars last year [1] and the good piece of work you've just finished in the asteroids." [2]
Bigman crowed, "You should have been with Mm if you think you know allabout it."
Lucky reddened slightly. He said hastily, "Never mind now, Bigman. Let's not have any of your yarns."
They were all in large armchairs, Earth-manufactured, soft and comfortable. There was something about the reflected sound of their voices that, to Lucky's practiced ear, was good evidence that the apartment was insulated and spy-shielded.
Morriss lit a cigarette and offered one to the others but was refused. "How much do you know about Venus, Lucky?"
Lucky smiled. "The usual things one learns in school. Just to go over a few things quickly, it's the second closest planet to the sun and is about sixty-seven million miles from it. It's the closest world to Earth and can come to within twenty-six million miles of the home planet. It's just a little smaller than Earth, with a gravity about five sixths Earth-normal. It goes around the sun in about seven and a half months and its day is about thirty-six hours long. It's surface temperature is a little higher than Earth's but not much, because of the clouds. Also because of the clouds, it has no seasons to speak of. It is covered by ocean, which is, in turn, covered with seaweed. Its atmosphere is carbon dioxide and nitrogen and is unbreathable. How is that, Dr. Morriss?"
"You pass with high marks," said the biophysicist, "but I was asking about Venusian society rather than about the planet itself."
"Well, now, that's more difficult. I know, of course, that humans live in domed cities in the shallower parts of the ocean, and, as I can see for myself, Venusian city life is quite advanced-far beyond Martian city life, for instance."
Bigman yelled, "Hey!"
Morriss turned his little twinkling eyes on the Martian. "You disagree with your friend?"
Bigman hesitated. "Well, maybe not, but he doesn't have to say so."
Lucky smiled and went on, "Venus is a fairly developed planet. I think there are about fifty cities on it and a total population of six million. Your exports are dried seaweed, which I am told is excellent fertilizer, and dehydrated yeast bricks for animal food."
"Still fairly good," said Morriss. "How was your di
Lucky paused at the sudden change of topic, then said, "Very good. Why do you ask?"
"You'll see in a moment. What did you have?"
Lucky said, "I couldn't say, exactly. It was the house meal. I should guess we had a kind of beef goulash with a rather interesting sauce and a vegetable I didn't recognize. There was a fruit salad, I believe, before that and a spicy variety of tomato soup."
[1] See David Starr, Space Ranger (New York, Signet, 1971).
[2] See Lucky Starr and the Pirates of the Asteroids (New York, Signet, 1971).