the top linguists?"

"Psych--both Alex and Temple. And Teddy Blake. They're over there. Tell
them, will you, while I buzz Teddy?"

"Will do," and Hilton stepped over to the two psychologists and told
them. Then, "I hope I'm not leading with my chin, Temple, but is that
your real first name or a professional?"

"It's real; it really is. My parents were romantics: dad says they
considered both 'Golden' and 'Silver'!"

Not at all obviously, he studied her: the almost translucent,
unblemished perfection of her lightly-tanned, old-ivory skin; the clear,
calm, deep blueness of her eyes; the long, thick mane of hair exactly
the color of a field of dead-ripe wheat.

"You know, I like it," he said then. "It fits you."

"I'm glad you said that, Doctor...."

"Not that, Temple. I'm not going to 'Doctor' you."

"I'll call you 'boss', then, like Stella does. Anyway, that lets me tell
you that I like it myself. I really think that it did something for me."

"_Something_ did something for you, that's for sure. I'm mighty glad
you're aboard, and I hope ... here they come. Hi, Hark! Hi, Stella!"

"Hi, Jarve," said Chief Linguist Harkins, and:

"Hi, boss--what's holding us up?" asked his assistant, Stella Wing. She
was about five feet four. Her eyes were a tawny brown; her hair a
flamboyant auburn mop. Perhaps it owed a little of its spectacular
refulgence to chemistry, Hilton thought, but not too much. "Let us away!
Let the lions roar and let the welkin ring!"

"Who's been feeding _you_ so much red meat, little squirt?" Hilton
laughed and turned away, meeting Sandra in the corridor. "Okay, chick,
take 'em away. We'll cover you. Luck, girl."

And in the control room, to Sawtelle, "Needle-beam cover, please; set
for minimum aperture and lethal blast. But no firing, Captain Sawtelle,
until I give the order."

* * * * *

The _Perseus_ was surrounded by hundreds of natives. They were all
adult, all naked and about equally divided as to sex. They were
friendly; most enthusiastically so.

"Jarve!" Sandra squealed. "They're _telepathic_. Very strongly so! I
never imagined--I never felt anything like it!"

"Any rough stuff?" Hilton demanded.

"Oh, no. Just the opposite. They love us ... in a way that's simply
indescribable. I don't like this telepathy business ... not clear ...
foggy, diffuse ... this woman is _sure_ I'm her long-lost
great-great-a-hundred-times grandmother or something--_You!_