“I’m ready. How do I get down to Pandora?”

Ship spoke from a vocoder above the mirror. “There are several ways, transports which I have provided.”

“So You deliver me to Pandora. I just walk in on them. ‘Hi. I’m Raja Flattery. I’ve come to give you a big pain in the head.’”

“Flippancy does not suit you, Raj.”

“I feel Your displeasure.”

“Do you already regret your decision, Raj?”

“Can You tell me anything more about the problems on Pandora?”

“The most immediate problem is their encounter with an alien intelligence, the ’lectrokelp.”

“Dangerous?”

“So they believe. The ’lectrokelp is close to infinite and humans fear . . .”

“Humans fear open spaces, never-ending open spaces. Humans fear their own intelligence because it’s close to infinite.”

“You delight Me, Raj!”

A feeling of joy washed over Flattery. It was so rich and powerful that he felt he might dissolve in it. He knew that the sensation did not originate with him, and it left him feeling drained, transparent . . . bloodless.

Flattery pressed the heels of his hands against his tightly closed eyes. What a terrible thing that joy was! Because when it was gone . . . when it was gone . . .

He whispered: “Unless You intend to kill me, don’t do that again.”

“As you choose.” How cold and remote.

“I want to be human! That’s what I was intended to be!”

“If that’s the game you seek.”

Flattery sensed Ship’s disappointment, but this made him defensive and he turned to questions.

“Have Shipmen communicated with this alien intelligence, this ’lectrokelp?”

“No. They have studied it, but do not understand it.”

Flattery took his hands away from his eyes. “Have Shipmen ever heard of Raja Flattery?”

“That’s a name in the history which I teach them.”

“Then I’d better take another name.” He ruminated for a moment, then: “I’ll call myself Raja Thomas.”

“Excellent. Thomas for your doubts and Raja for your origins.”

“Raja Thomas, communications expert—Ship’s best friend. Here I come, ready or not.”

“A game, yes. A game. And . . . Raj?”

“What?”

“For an infinite being, Time produces boredom. Limits exist to how much Time I can tolerate.”

“How much Time are You giving us to decide the way we’ll Worship?”

“At the proper moment you will be told. And one more thing—”

“Yes?”

“Do not be dismayed if I refer to you occasionally as My Devil.”

He was a moment recovering his voice, then: “What can I do about it? You can call me whatever You like.”

“I merely asked that you not be dismayed.”

“Sure! And I’m King Canute telling the tides to stop!”

There was no response from Ship and Flattery wondered if he was to be left on his own to find his way down to this planet called Pandora. But presently, Ship spoke once more: “Now we will dress you in appropriate costume, Raj. There is a new Chaplain/Psychiatrist who rules the Shipmen. They call him Ceepee and, when he offends them, they call him The Boss. You can expect that The Boss will order you to attend him soon.”