They continued the discussion, arguing animatedly and enjoyably, as they made their way down the corridors. Their rooms were located close to the large chamber where the aliens were being kept.

As Ryo learned more of the layout of what was called X Section he was able to see how the authorities had managed to conceal the aliens. The xenology section was completely independent of the main installation. It had its own supply and power facilities, its own staff, even its own entrances and exits.

Only three narrow corridors connected it with the rest of the base, which had been built as part of the planetary defense system. Those Thranx who staffed the latter prepared for an attack that they hoped would never come, blissfully ignorant of the sensitive research being carried out close at hand.

Ryo relaxed in the hygienic corner of his comparatively luxurious quarters and cleaned himself with die damp scented cloth.

Wuu had immediately accepted Ryo’s conversion to the majority opinion. The old poet was clever, even brilliant, but his brilliance did not make him a master of deception. Ryo was certain others were assigned to watch him.

Poor Wuu, he thought. A composer of the Eint order. For all his imagination and abilities he could see no further than his own specialty. Wuu was a poet, and a masterful one. He was also an elder whose thinking had become as predictable as-the midseason rains. Petrification of the imagination seemed to have infected everyone of any authority. Ryo was coming to believe he was the only one able to spark a new thought, a fresh idea.

That was only natural. That had been his talent since larvahood. Yes, that’s my profession, he thought excitedly. That’s what I was intended to do—to initiate newness, to break convention. All this time, all these years, he’d sublimated his real profession by breaking jungle ground, when the topography he should have been attacking was that of conventional wisdom.

If Wuu was convinced Ryo had come around to the accepted way of thinking, then there was no reason to suppose the staff scientists would think otherwise. But Ryo would still have to be patient, would have to bide his time. He smiled inwardly. I’ve done that before. This time, however, the unknown territory I have to cross is somewhat greater then the distance between Paszex and Daret.

This time he would also not be fleeing by himself.

XI

XI

Arranging a private conversation with Loo and Bonnie was less difficult than he’d imagined. When the monsters understood what was wanted they simply organized a group singalong. The rest of the monsters generated sufficient noise to drown out the most sensitive directional pickup. In addition, the new phenomenon of collective sound kept the fascinated researchers busy at their instrumentation. The volume was much greater than an equal number of Thranx could have produced.