on Viornis."

The Guesser explained what had happened, his voice low. He told about
having something thrown at him, about the beamgun being fired at him. He
told about the girl, Deyla. He told everything in a monotonous
undertone.

The captain nodded when he was through. "That tallies. It fits with the
confession we got."

"Confession, sir?" The Guesser looked blank.

Captain Reed sighed. "You're supposed to be a Guesser. Tell me, do you
think I personally, could beam you from behind?"

"You're the captain, sir."

"I don't mean for disciplinary purposes," the captain growled. "I mean
from ambush."

"Well ... no, sir. As soon as I knew you were there, I'd be able to
Guess where you'd fire. And I wouldn't be there."

"Then what kind of person would be able to throw something at you so
that you'd Guess, so that you'd dodge, and be so preoccupied with that
first dodging that you'd miss the Guess on the aiming of the beamgun
because of sheer physical inertia? What kind of person would know
exactly where you'd be when you dodged? What kind of person would know
exactly where to aim that beamgun?"

The Guesser had seen what was coming long before the captain finished
his wordy interrogation.

"Another Guesser, sir," he said. His eyes narrowed.

"Exactly," said Captain Reed. "Your apprentice, Kraybo. He broke down
during a Misfit attack on the way here; he was never cut out to be a
Master Guesser, and even though he tried to kill you to get the job, he
couldn't handle it. He cracked completely as soon as he tried to
co-ordinate alone. We've actually missed you, Master Guesser."

"May I see to the disciplining of Kraybo, sir?" The Guesser asked
coldly.

"You're too late. He's been declassified." The captain looked down at
the papers on his desk. "You may consider yourself reinstated, Master
Guesser, since the fault was not yours.

"However, masquerading as an Exec, no matter how worthy your motives,
cannot be allowed to go unpunished. You will report to the Discipline
Master for a three-and-three every day for the next five days. And you
will not be allowed to leave the ship during the time we remain in
repair dock. Dismissed."

"Thank you, great sir." The Guesser turned on his heel and marched out,
heading for the Discipline Master.

It was good to be home again.

End of Project Gutenberg's But, I Don't Think, by Gordon Randall Garrett

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BUT, I DON'T THINK *