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"I've seen the miniatures," Horowitz said smugly.
"Well-yes," Sally agreed. "The testes in male miniatures were big enough to see-"
"Much bigger than this in proportion. But never mind. These could not have produced sperm. I have proved it. That pilot was a mule!" Horowitz slapped the back of his hand against his open palm. "A mule!"
Sally - studied the exploded Motie. She's really upset, Rod thought.
"Modes start- male, then turn female," Sally mumbled, almost inaudibly. "Couldn't this one have been immature?"
"A pilot?"
"Yes, of course-" She sighed. "You're right, anyway. It was the height of a full-grown Mediator. Could it have been a freak?"
"Hah! You laughed at me when I suggested it might have been a mutation! Well, it isn't. While you were off on that jaunt we did a bit of work here. I've identified the chromosomes and gene-coding systems responsible for sexual development. This creature was a sterile hybrid of two -other forms which are fertile." Triumph.
"That fits," Rod said. "The Moties told Re
"Look," Horowitz demanded. He activated a lecture screen and punched in codes. Shapes flowed across the screen. Motie chromosomes were close-packed discs co
Half an hour later they left the university. Whatever Horowitz had said, Sally was convinced.
"Why so upset, sweetheart?" he asked. "Horowitz is right. It makes sense for the Mediators to be mules." Rod grimaced at the memory. Horowitz had pointedly added that being mules; the Mediators wouldn't be influenced by nepotism.
"But my Fyunch(click) would have told me. I'm sure she would. We did talk about sex and reproduction and she said-"
"What?"
"I don't remember exactly." Sally took out her pocket computer and scrawled the symbols for information recall. The gadget hummed, then changed tone to indicate it was using the car's radio system to communicate with the Palace data banks. "And I don't remember just when she said it-" She scrawled something else. "I should have used a better cross-reference system when I filed the tape."
"You'll find it. Here's the Palace-we've got a conference with the Moties after lunch. Why don't you ask them about it?"
She gri
"You're blushing."
Sally giggled. "Remember when the little Moties first coupled? It was the first positive indication we'd had of sex changes in adult Modes, and I went ru
"Want me to ask?"
"If I don't. But, Rod, my Fyunch(click) wouldn't lie to me. She just wouldn't have."
They ate in the executive dining room, and Rod ordered another brandy and coffee. He sipped and said thoughtfully, "There was a message with this-"
"Oh? Have you talked to Mr. Bury?"
"Only to thank him. The Navy's still entertaining him as a guest. No, the message was the gift itself. It told me he could send messages, even before Lenin made orbit."
She looked shocked. "You're right-why didn't we-"
"Too busy. By the time I thought of it, it didn't seem important enough to report, so I haven't. The question is,
Sally: What other messages did he send, and why did he want me to know he could do it?"
She shook her head. "I'd rather try to analyze the motivations of aliens than of Mr. Bury. He's a very strange man."
"Right. But, not a stupid one." He stood and helped Sally out of her chair. "Time for the conference."
They met in the Mode quarters of the Palace. This was supposed to be a working conference, and Senator Fowler was ru
"I'm glad you co-opted Mr. Re
"Different. That's the word." Rod had also been assigned others from the expedition: Chaplain Hardy, Sinclair, and several scientists. Until Senator Fowler made up his mind about Dr. Horvath's request for Commission membership they couldn't use him, though; the Science Minister might refuse to become a subordinate to the Commissioners.
The Marines outside the Motie quarters snapped to attention as Rod and Sally approached. "See. You worry too much," Rod said as he acknowledged the salutes. "The Moties haven't complained about the guards."
"Complained? Jock told me the Ambassador likes having guards," Sally said. "I guess he's a little afraid of us."
Rod shrugged. "They watch a lot of tri-v. God knows what they think of the human race now." They entered to hear an animated conversation in progress.
"Of course I expected no direct evidence," Chaplain Hardy was insisting. "But although I didn't expect it, I would have been pleasantly surprised to find something concrete: scripture, or a religion similar to ours, something like that. But expect it, no."
"I still wonder what you think you could have found," Charlie said. "Were it my problem ‘to prove that humans had souls, I shouldn't know where to begin looking."
Hardy shrugged. "Nor do I. But begin with your own beliefs-you think you possess something like an immortal soul."
"Some do, some don't," Charlie said. "Most Masters believe it. Like humans, Modes do not care to think their lives are purposeless. Or that they can and will be terminated. Hello, Sally. Rod. Please be seated."
"Thanks." Rod nodded greetings to Jock and Ivan. The Ambassador looked like a surrealist rendition of an Angora cat as he lay sprawled on the edge of a couch. The Master flicked the lower right hand, a gesture which Rod had learned meant something similar to "I see you." There were evidently other greetings, but they were reserved for other Masters: equals, not creatures with whom Mediators discussed business.
Rod activated his pocket computer to get the agenda for the day's meeting. The readout was coded to remind him of both the formal items for discussion and the questions Senator Fowler wanted answered without the Modes' knowing the questions had been asked; questions such as why the Modes hadn't ever asked about the fate of -the Crazy Eddie probe. That one needed no code at all; Rod was as puzzled as the Senator. He was also reluctant to get the Modes asking, since he would have to explain what, he'd done to the probe.
"Before we begin," Rod said. "The Foreign Office requests that you attend a reception tonight. For the baronage and some representatives of Parliament."
The Moties twittered. Ivan twittered back. "We will be honored," Jock said formally. There was no expression in the voice.
"OK. So now we're back to the same problems we've always had. Are you a threat to the Empire, and just what will your technology do to- our economy."
"Oddly enough," Jock said, "the same questions concern us. Except in reverse."
"But we never seem to settle anything," Sally protested. "How could we?" Hardy asked reasonably. "Assuming that the threat question is negligible, until we know what our friends will sell the economists can't predict what they'll do to us-and the Moties have the same difficulty."
"They aren't as concerned about them as we are," Re
"We won't get any of it done if we don't get started." Rod looked at his computer readout "The first item is superconductors. The physics boys are happy enough, but the econ section wants better cost data. I'm supposed to ask-" He touched the control to let the questions roll across the tiny screen.