The Warlock Wandering
develop out of the people themselves, or it won't last. There're a thousand different ways of doing it, one for each society that has developed self-government—because it has to grow, like a tree. It can't be grafted onto a people."
    "The grafts never take," Yorick murmured.
    "Or they take graft, but that happens in every system when it starts to die. In fact, that's part of what kills it."
    "But we're in at the beginning." Yorick grinned. "It can't be corrupted yet, because it hasn't quite begun."
    "Amazing how much Shacklar has done, though." Rod turned to the Neanderthal. "How's he going to wield them into one complete political unit?" "'
    "How'd he do this much?" Yorick shrugged. "Sorry, Major—I didn't have time for a full briefing; I had to just grab 46 Christopher Stasheff
    what few facts I could, before I jumped into the time machine. But he will manage it, say our boys from up the time-line, if we can fight off the SPITE and VETO agents who're trying to do him in, and his system with him." Rod stared. The Society for the Prevention of Integration of Telepathic Entities was the Anarchists' time-travel department, as the Vigilant Exterminators of Telepathic Organisms was the Totalitarians'. The two of them were the banes of his existence on Gramarye. "They're after him, too?"
    "Sure. Your world isn't the only one that's crucial to the future of democracy, milord."
    "But why is Wolmar so important?"
    "Mostly because it's one of the few pockets of democracy that's going to keep going all through the PEST centuries; at least it'll keep the idea alive. But also because it's going to be the headquarters for the educational effort." Rod stared. Then he closed his eyes, gave his head a quick shake, and looked again.
    Yorick nodded. "That's why we have to have an agent stationed here—to make sure the SPITE and VETO boys don't get to sabotage Shacklar's system."
    "You bet you have to!"
    "Yet an there be one of thy folk here," said Gwen, "wherefore can he not care for us?"
    "Who said it was a he?"
    "Why..." Gwen looked at Rod. "I would ha' thought..." Yorick shook his head. "All we ask is that an agent be capable."
    "Then thine agent here is female?"
    "Now, I didn't say that." Yorick held up a palm. "And I'm not about to, either. The whole point is that our agent has managed to establish a very good cover, and we don't want to blow it. Stop and think about it—can you figure out who it is?"
    Rod stared at the ape-man for a moment, then shook his

THE WARLOCK WANDERING 47
    head. "You're right—I can't."
    Gwen turned to gaze about them, her eyes losing focus.
    "Uh-uh, milady!" Yorick wagged a forefinger at her. "No fair reading minds. It's better for us all if you don't know who it is! After all, what you don't know, you can't let slip."
    "So they sent in a special agent," Rod said, "you. After all, if your cover's blown, it won't be any major tragedy."
    "I wasn't planning to use it again, anyway." Yorick nodded.
    "Thus thou'rt come in aiding us to return to our home!" Yorick kept nodding. "Going to try, anyway. I've got a time-beacon with me. All I have to do is push the button, and it'll send a teeny ripple going through the time-stream. When that ripple hits the receiver in Doc Angus' headquarters, he'll know exactly when and where we are, so he'll be able to shoot us all the spare parts for making a time machine. And I'll put them together, press the button—
    and voila! You'll be home!"
    Rod frowned. "But why can't he just press a button and pick us up? 1 mean, he shot you here without a time machine to receive you, didn't he?"
    "Yeah, but it doesn't work both ways." Yorick shrugged.
    "Don't ask me why—I'm just the bullet. I don't understand the gun, milord."
    "Uh, can the 'milord' business." Rod darted nervous glances around the room. "I don't think they'd understand it here."
    "Suits." Yorick shrugged again. "What do you want me to call you?"
    "How about, uh—'major?' They'd recognize that, and it's legit; I'm

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