The Goblin Reservation

“It looks hopeless,” Maxwell told him, “but there are a couple of things that I still can do-go to Harlow Sharp at Time and try to convince him to hold up the deal, then crash in a door or two up at Administration and back Arnold into a corner. If I can talk Arnold into duplicating the Wheeler’s offer in funding for Harlow ’s Time projects, I am sure that Harlow will turn down the Wheeler’s offer.”

“You will make a noble effort, I am sure,” said Ghost, “but I fear for the results. Not from Harlow Sharp, for he’s a friend of yours, but President Arnold is a friend of no one. And he will not relish the breaking down of doors.”

“You know what I think,” said Maxwell. “I think that you are right. But you can’t tell until you try. It may be that Arnold will have a lapse of moral fiber and will, for once, set prejudice and stuff-shirtedness aside.”

“I must warn you,” said Ghost. “Harlow Sharp may have little time for you or for anyone. He has worries. Shakespeare arrived this morning-”

“Shakespeare!” yelled Maxwell. “For the love of God, I’d forgotten about him coming. But I do remember he speaks tomorrow night. Of all the lousy breaks. It would have to be at a time like this.”

“It would seem,” said Ghost, “that William Shakespeare is not any easy man to handle. He wanted at once to go out and have a look at this new age of which he’d been told so much. Time had a rough time persuading him to change his Elizabethan dress for what we wear today, but they positively refused to let him go until he agreed to it. And now Time is sweating out what might happen to him. They have to keep him in tow, but they can’t do anything that will get his back up. They have sold the hall down to the last inch of standing room and they can’t take the chance that anything will happen.”

“How did you hear all this?” asked Maxwell. “Seems to me you manage to come up with campus gossip ahead of anyone.”

Ghost said modestly, “I get around a lot.”

“Well, it’s not good,” said Maxwell, “but I have to take the chance. Time is ru

“It seems incredible,” said Ghost sadly, “that such a dire combination of circumstances should have arisen to block what you try to do. Impossible that through sheer stupidity, the university and Earth should fail to obtain the knowledge of two universes.”

“It was the Wheeler,” Maxwell said. “His offer puts the pressure on, sets up a time limit. If I only had more time, I could work it out. I could talk to Harlow, could finally get a hearing from Arnold. And if nothing else, I probably could talk Harlow into a deal, Time, rather than the university, buying the planet’s library. But there isn’t any time. Ghost, what do you know about the Wheelers? Anything the rest of us don’t know?”

“I doubt it. Just that they could be that hypothetical enemy we’ve always figured we would finally meet in space. Their actions argue that they, at least potentially, are that enemy. And their motives, their mores, their ethics, their entire outlook on life, must be different than ours. We probably have less in common with them than a man would with a spider or a wasp. Although they are clever-and that is the worst of it. They have absorbed enough of our viewpoints and ma

“You are right, I think,” said Maxwell. “And that is why we can’t afford to let them have what the crystal planet has to offer. God knows what’s to be found in that library. I had a whack at it, but I could do no more than sample it, could barely touch the edge of it. And there was material that I couldn’t come within ten light-years of understanding. Which doesn’t mean that given time and skills that I haven’t got, that perhaps I’ve not even heard of, man wouldn’t be able to understand it. I think man could. I think the Wheelers can. Vast areas of new knowledge that we haven’t any inkling of. That knowledge might just be the margin between us and the Wheelers. If man and the Wheelers ever come into collision, the crystal planet’s knowledge just possibly could be the difference between our victory or defeat. And it might mean as well that the Wheelers, knowing that we had this knowledge, might never allow that collision to happen. It might spell the difference between peace and war.”

He sat crouched in the seat and through the warmth of the autumn afternoon felt a chill that blew from somewhere other than the colorful land and the sky of China-silk that enclosed this portion of the earth.

“You talked with the Banshee,” said Ghost. “Just before he died. He mentioned the Artifact. Did he give you any clue as to what it really is? If we knew what it really was…”

“No, Ghost. Not in so many words. But I got the impression-no, you’d better call that a hunch. Not strong enough to be an impression. And not at the time, but afterward. A fu

“It sounds reasonable,” said Ghost. “That all the colonies died out, I mean. If there had been a successful colony anywhere in the universe, it would seem likely the crystal planet would pass on its heritage to it instead of offering it to us or the Wheelers, to some race that had no co

“What bothers me,” said Maxwell, “is why the people of the crystal planet, so close to death that they are no more than shadows, should want the Artifact. What good will it do them? What use can they make of it?”

“Maybe if we knew what it was,” said Ghost. “You’re sure that you have no idea? Nothing that you heard or saw or…”

“No,” said Maxwell. “Not the least idea.”

Harlow Sharp had a harried look about him.

“Sorry you had to wait so long,” he told Maxwell. “This is a hectic day.”

“I was glad to get in any way at all,” said Maxwell. “That watchdog of yours out at the desk was not about to let me.”

“I’ve been expecting you,” said Sharp. “Figured you’d turn up soon or late. Been hearing some strange stories.”

“And most of them are true,” said Maxwell. “But that’s not what I’m here for. This is a business matter, not a social visit. I won’t take much time.”

“OK, then,” said Sharp, “what can I do for you?”

“You’re selling the Artifact,” said Maxwell.

Sharp nodded. “I’m sorry about that, Pete. I know you and a few others had an interest in it. But it’s been out there in the museum for years and, except as a curiosity to be stared at by visitors and tourists, it’s done no one any good. And Time needs money. Surely you know that. The university holds the purse strings fast and the other colleges feed us tiny driblets for specific programs and-”