“You demand speed and sensitivity increased by whole orders of magnitude over anything that ever existed.”

“Well?” Reymont said.

Nilsson and Lindgren stared at him. The ship trembled.

“Well, why can’t we develop what we need?” Reymont asked in a puzzled voice. “We have some of the most talented, highly trained, imaginative people our civilization produced. They include every branch of science; what they don’t know, they can find in the microtapes; they’re used to interdisciplinary work.

“Suppose, for instance, Emma Glassgold and Norbert Williams got together to draw up the specifications for a device to detect and analyze life at a distance. They’d consult others as needed. Eventually they’d employ physicists, electronicians, and the rest for the actual building and debugging. Meanwhile, Professon Nilsson, you may have been in charge of a group making tools for remote planetography. In fact, you’re the logical man to head up the entire program.”

Hardness fell from him. He exclaimed, eager as a boy: “Why, this is precisely what we’ve needed! A fascinating, vital sort of job that demands everything everybody can give. Those whose specialties aren’t called for, they’ll be in it too— assistants, draftsmen, manual workers… I suppose we’ll have to remodel a cargo deck to accommodate the gear… Ingrid, it’s a way to save not just our lives but our minds!”

He sprang to his feet. She did too. Their hands clasped.

Suddenly they became aware of Nilsson. He sat less than dwarfish, hunched, shivering, collapsed.

Lindgren went to him in alarm. “What’s wrong?”

His head did not lift. “Impossible,” he mumbled. “Impossible.”

“Surely not,” she urged. “I mean, you wouldn’t have to discover new laws of nature, would you? The basic principles are known.”

“They must be applied in unheard-of ways.” Nilsson covered his face. “God better me, I haven’t the brains any longer.”

Lindgren and Reymont exchanged a look above his bent back. She shaped unspoken words. Once he had taught her the Rescue Corps trick of lip reading when spacesuit radios were unusable. They had practiced it as something that made them more private and more one. “Can we succeed without him?”

“I doubt it. He is the best chief for that kind of project. At least, lacking him, our chance is poor.”

Lindgren squatted down beside Nilsson. She laid an arm across his shoulders. “What’s the trouble?” she asked most softly.

“I have no hope,” he snuffled. “Nothing to live for.”

“You do!”

“You know Jane… deserted me… months ago. No other woman will— Why should I care? What’s left for me?”

Reymont’s lips formed, “So behind everything was self-pity.” Lindgren frowned and shook her head.

“No, you’re mistaken, Elof,” she murmured. “We do care for you. Would we ask for your help if we didn’t honor you?”

“My mind.” He sat straight and glared at her out of swimming eyes. “You want my intelligence, right. My advice. My knowledge and talent. To save yourselves. But do you want me? Do you think of me as, as a human being? No! Dirty old Nilsson. One is barely polite to him. When he starts to talk, one finds the earliest possible excuse to leave. One does not invite him to one’s cabin parties. At most, if desperate, one asks him to be a fourth for bridge or to start an instrument development effort. What do you expect him to do? Thank you?”