Carmot sighed—a long, hissing sound, like a steam engine running down. “Tie into the nearest intersystem relay. Use long band. Break in if you have to. Contact the nearest planet where we have landing privileges—it will be humanx controlled, of course . . . .”

Laccota looked to the navigator. “Is there an appropriate place?”

Paayton’s computer-trap mind turned businesslike. “Umm. The humanx outpost colony world of Repler might be . . . yes, I foresee no problems. A sparsely populated world, much of it still in the wild state, with a largely urban population and a considerable tourist trade. The largest shuttle station is very modern, but not equipped to handle much in the way of a naval force. No orbiting naval station. We have a fair-sized diplomatic mission there, with plenty of privacy and room. The weather is miserable, but most of the station is underground, naturally. It should be adequate.”

“Contact them,” continued Carmot. “Tell them we want the biggest freighter in the sector, along with five or six of the largest shuttles, two of which must be max-class, and about twenty miles of flexible harmony plating, with plenty of tow cable. Operators for all, of course. Also, at least one large, high-intensity beamer—it needn’t be military; industrial strength should do fine. One that can provide a steady output without burning out every other time-length. Tell them to bring replacement parts, just in case.”

“You plan to transport the thing, then?”

“If we can induce it to assume manageable proportions, yes. From hindsight-clever Paayton’s description of the station we have at this Repler place, we should have facilities which can at least be expanded to provide a place where this thing can be properly handled and analyzed.”

“Won’t that be rather risky?” put in Paayton. “Attempting to work in secret right under the sensors of the humans and thranx?”

“Quite likely,” replied Carmot. “However, until we know a great deal more about it, I do not wish this thing trans-shipped to a nesting planet. It is an unknown quantity of awesome possibilities.”

“Another feeling?” said Laccota.

“That as well. I am suspicious of anything that can survive on several thousand cluvits of bare rock, on a planet on which nothing else lives, yet clearly could support other life. I’m suspicious of anything organic that’s thinner in places than my claw-tips, yet can take the continuous application of high-intensity beaming. Yes, another feeling.”

“Your imaginings begin to approach those you ascribe to your fifth-grade assistants, Observer. Still, I see no reason to deny any of your requests. I’ll leave that to higher authority.”

“I think that’s very just of you, Exalted Captain. And very wise.”

The Vom had restored facilities sufficient to assess the beings who had happened upon it. The minds were simple, yet far from primitive. In its weakened state the Vom doubted its ability to control even a single one of the species, let alone the shipful. Now was the time to move, oh, so very carefully!