knowledgments were made and a few minutes of conversation ensued,
during which the two couples studied each other.

"This looks mighty good to me," Garlock said then. "Shall we go screens
half-down, Alsyne, and cry in each other's beer?"

* * *

In thirty seconds of flashing communication each became thoroughly
informed. Those minds could send, and could receive, an incredibly vast
amount of information in an incredibly brief space of time.

"Your ship should work and doesn't," Garlock said. "Show me; in detail."

Alsyne showed him.

"Oh, I see. You didn't work out quite all the theory. It has to be
activated. Like this...." Garlock showed Alsyne.

"I see. Thanks." Alsyne disappeared and was gone for some ten minutes.
He reappeared, grinning hugely behind his flaming wilderness of beard.
"It works perfectly; for which our heartfelt thanks. And now that my
mind is at complete peace with the universe, we will consider the
utterly fascinating subject of your proposed Galactic Service. You two
Tellurians, immature although you are, have made two tremendous
contributions to the advancement of the Scheme of Things--three, if you
count the starship, which is comparatively unimportant--each of such
import that no human mind can foresee any fraction of its consequences.
First, your Prime Field, the probe and its screen...."

"Clee!" Belle drove the thought. "You _didn't_ give him _that_, surely!"

"Tut-tut, my child," Therea soothed her. "You are alarming yourself
about nothing."

"The only trouble with you two youngsters is that you aren't quite--very
nearly, of course, but very definitely not quite--grown up." Alsyne
smiled again; not only with mouth and eyes, but with his whole hairy
face. "To the mature mind there is no such thing as status. Each knows
what he can do best and does it as a matter of course. Rank is not
necessary.

"Second, the unimaginably important contribution of the ability to
combine two dissimilar but intimately compatible minds into one
tremendously effective fusion. While Therea and I have had only a few
moments to play with it, we realize some of its possibilities. Thus,
since she is a Doctor of Humanities...."

"Oh," Belle interrupted. "_That's_ why you knew what I was thinking
about, even though I tight-beamed the thought and my screens were
tight?"

"Exactly so. But to continue. With her sympathy and empathy, and my
driving force and so on, the job of lic