Graveyard of Dreams | Page 8

poison-atmosphere planet like Tubal-Cain."
"It might even be on Tubal-Cain," a melon-planter said. "Or Hiawatha, or even one of the
Beta or Gamma planets. The Third Force was occupying the whole Trisystem, you
know." He thought for a moment. "If I'd been in charge, I'd have put it on one of the
moons of Pantagruel."
"But that's clear out in the Alpha System," Judge Ledue objected. "We don't have a
spaceship on the planet, certainly nothing with a hyperdrive engine. And it would take a
lifetime to get out to the Gamma System and back on reaction drive."
Conn put his empty brandy glass on the table and sat erect. A new thought had occurred
to him, chasing out of his mind all the worries and fears he had brought with him all the
way from Terra.
"Then we'll have to build a ship," he said calmly. "I know, when the Federation
evacuated Poictesme, they took every hyperdrive ship with them. But they had plenty of
shipyards and spaceports on this planet, and I have maps showing the location of all of
them, and barely a third of them have been discovered so far. I'm sure we can find
enough hulks, and enough hyperfield generator parts, to assemble a ship or two, and I
know we'll find the same or better on some of the other planets.
"And here's another thing," he added. "When we start looking into some of the dome-city
plants on Tubal-Cain and Hiawatha and Moruna and Koshchei, we may find the plant or
plants where the components for the Brain were fabricated, and if we do, we may find

records of where they were shipped, and that'll be it."
"You're right!" Professor Kellton cried, quivering with excitement. "We've been hunting
at random for the Brain, so it would only be an accident if we found it. We'll have to do
this systematically, and with Conn to help us--Conn, why not build a computer? I don't
mean another Brain; I mean a computer to help us find the Brain."
"We can, but we may not even need to build one. When we get out to the industrial
planets, we may find one ready except for perhaps some minor alterations."
"But how are we going to finance all this?" Klem Zareff demanded querulously. "We're
poorer than snakes, and even one hyperdrive ship's going to cost like Gehenna."
"I've been thinking about that, Klem," Fawzi said. "If we can find material at these
shipyards Conn knows about, most of our expense will be labor. Well, haven't we ten
workmen competing for every job? They don't really need money, only the things money
can buy. We can raise food on the farms and provide whatever else they need out of
Federation supplies."
"Sure. As soon as it gets around that we're really trying to do something about this,
everybody'll want in on it," Tom Brangwyn predicted.
"And I have no doubt that the Planetary Government at Storisende will give us assistance,
once we show that this is a practical and productive enterprise," Judge Ledue put in. "I
have some slight influence with the President and--"
"I'm not too sure we want the Government getting into this," Kurt Fawzi replied. "Give
them half a chance and that gang at Storisende'll squeeze us right out."
"We can handle this ourselves," Brangwyn agreed. "And when we get some kind of a
ship and get out to the other two systems, or even just to Tubal-Cain or Hiawatha, first
thing you know, we'll be the Planetary Government."
"Well, now, Tom," Fawzi began piously, "the Brain is too big a thing for a few of us to
try to monopolize; it'll be for all Poictesme. Of course, it's only proper that we, who are
making the effort to locate it, should have the direction of that effort...."
While Fawzi was talking, Rodney Maxwell went to the table, rummaged his pistol out of
the pile and buckled it on. The mayor stopped short.
"You leaving us, Rod?"
"Yes, it's getting late. Conn and I are going for a little walk; we'll be at Senta's in half an
hour. The fresh air will do both of us good and we have a lot to talk about. After all, we
haven't seen each other for over five years."
* * * * *

They were silent, however, until they were away from the Airport Building and walking
along High Garden Terrace in the direction of the Mall. Conn was glad; his own thoughts
were weighing too heavily within him: I didn't do it. I was going to do it; every minute, I
was going to do it, and I didn't, and now it's too late.
"That was quite a talk you gave them, son," his father said. "They believed every