cted objects were concealed
inside. Not till then did he resume his relaxed position.

Presently one of his hands located and pinched a tiny switch buried
in the lobe of his left ear. Barnsley concentrated upon keeping his
features blank as a rushing sound seemed to grow in his ear. He yawned
casually, moving one hand from behind his head to cover his mouth.

Having practiced many times before a mirror, he did not think that any
possible watcher would have noticed how his thumb slipped briefly inside
his mouth to give one eyetooth a slight twist.

A strong humming inundated his hearing. It continued for perhaps two
minutes, paused, and began again. Barnsley waited through two repetitions
before he "yawned" again and sleepily rolled over to hide his face in his
folded arms.

"Did you get it all?" he murmured.

"Clear as a bell," replied a tiny voice in his left ear. "Was that your
whole day's recording?"

"I guess so," said Barnsley. "To tell the truth, I lose track a bit
after two weeks without a watch. Who's this? Sanchez?"

"That's right. You seem to come in on my watch pretty nearly every
twenty-four hours. Okay, I'll tape a slowed-down version of your blast
for the boys in the back room. You're doing fine."

* * * * *

"Not for much longer," Barnsley told him. "When do I get out of here?"

"Any day," Sanchez reassured him. "It was some job to learn an alien
language with just your recordings and some of your educated guesses to
go on. We've had a regular mob sweating on it night and day."

"How is it coming?"

"It turns out they're nothing to worry about. The fleet is close enough
now to pick up their surface broadcasting. Believe me, your stupid act
has them thoroughly confused. They hold debates over whether you could
possibly be intelligent enough to belong in a spaceship."

"Meanwhile, I'm slowly starving," said Barnsley.

"Just hang on for a couple of days. Now that we know where they are,
they're in for a shock. One of these mornings, they're going to hear
voices from all over their skies, demanding to know what kind of savages
they are to have kidnapped you--and in their own language!"

Barnsley grinned into his improvised pillow as Sanchez signed off.
Things would really work out after all. He was set for an immensely
lucrative position; whether as ambassador, trade consultant, or colonial
governor depended upon how well the experts bluffed the blubbe