Manshape by John Brunner Page B

public might be expected to frame.
    “Was he intending to be killed?”
    “I imagine he was gambling on getting away with It”
    “Hmm! A risky act, wouldn’t you say? What about your staff pantologist? Every scoutship has one, right?”
    “He failed to complete a social match-programme, which would have enabled us to create a compatible interface Earth-to-Azrael. On the grounds that he wished to improve his cross-cultural competence he applied for and was granted sabbatical leave, to be spent travelling on all the inhabited planets. When I filed a request for a replacement, I did not specify Chen by name, and I was amazed when he arrived.”
    “Was it you who approved this arrangement, Moses?” Shrigg demanded.
    “Chen was in need of a challenge,” van Heemskirkreplied. “It was his decision, not mine. I merely drew the problem to his attention. You know what pantologists are like. I was naturally glad when he consented.”
    Shrigg gnawed his lower lip thoughtfully for a while. So far everything appeared to have been done in strict accordance with protocol. He said at length, “But we have representatives from Azrael right here on Earth, don’t we? Negotiating the regular Bridge System contract?”
    “Of course!” van Heemskirk said promptly.
    “And we dare not enter into such a contract without a total comprehension of their way of life. I put it to you that the first priority is to create our interface. But which if any of our
surviving
pantologists would accept the assignment? Laverne?”
    The psychologist appeared to have anticipated the inquiry. With all the confidence he could draw from his computers by subvocal communication, he said, “Ask Hans Demetrios. He’s very young, but he’s shown exceptional promise. Currently he’s at Ipewell, and I’m informed that he grew so bored after the preliminary contact stages that he wrote a programme for the Ipewell Bridge just to keep himself amused. It checked out flawlessly. What do you think?”
    “Well, I guess it makes good sense not to risk another of our
advanced
pantologists,” Shrigg said, and in his ironical acceptance could be heard all the cynicism of the billions whom he represented, who had to take their experience of interstellar travel at second hand not because their government had decreed it but because there wasn’t time to let everybody visit every human world, or even spend a vacation at Bridge City.
    Relieved that the argument had not been more protracted, Alida was able to pick up the point which interested her most.
    “Did you say Jorgen had a breakdown? When? And why?”
    “It appeared as though,” said van Heemskirk deliberately, “it was triggered off by the delegate from Azrael, Lancaster Long.”

VI

    “Where are you going, Hans?”
    As soon as he had time, Hans Demetrios looked up. The sliding panel which closed the doorway of his cabin had crept ajar, and there was only one member of the ship’s crew to whom he had accorded authority to intrude on his privacy: Fay Logan. Her face appeared in the opening, lips parted and shiny-moist, eyes narrowed but very bright.
    “Come in!” he invited, and added: “Back to Earth. They sent for me.”
    “Earth!” She was taken aback. Her eyes darted over the disarray as she entered the room; the cabinets were emptying themselves according to programme, clothing this way, tools that, microbooks into tidy cartons. Even the ship’s library, designed to cope with the needs of over a hundred crewfolk, could not satisfy the information-hunger of a pantologist, so Hans travelled with his own. It was cheaper than Ireactivating a Bridge whenever he grew bored.
    But she knew all about his capacity for boredom.
    She closed the panel and leaned against it.
    “You didn’t tell me you were leaving I pewell!”
    “It only just happened. I’m sorry.”
    Staring at him as he folded his favourite microbook reader and tucked it into the appropriate package, Fay-thought: yes, he is sorry. He