No doubt Commandant Imry would be coming to see him, later on.
* * * * *
Nick groaned. Another dream that was beginning to clear things up a little...
"He's coming around." The words were not English, but Nick understood them.
The big blond cursed softly. "Speak English, Thesa. Someone might hear you!"
"There hasn't been anyone around this farm in months," Thesa replied, lapsing into English. "But if you're getting particular, don't call me Thesa."
Nick opened his eyes and blinked at them. It was the two watch dogs, the blond and his sandy haired friend. The giant was grinning at him.
"Hello," he beamed. "Remember me?"
"No! Who in hell are you?" Nick struggled to get out of the chair he'd been dumped in, but was pushed back firmly.
"When you didn't report, we went out to find you. The old guy at the gas station covered up for you, so we had to watch Beth's house. Used all kinds of tricks, Lors. Why in the blue heaven didn't you make contact?"
"You're Narvi!" Nick stared with wide eyes. "You're the man in the dream!"
"Dream? Say, what's wrong with you, Lors? You refuse to report, you take pot shots at us... That crash was a bad thing; don't tell me your head..."
"Narvi," Thesa put in quickly. "The crash! He was lucky to get out of it alive. Maybe he can't remember what went on. That right, Lors?"
Nick stared at them and foggy pictures swung vaguely into his mind. Galaxies of stars whirled about, silver ships streaking in the sky and tiny points of light whipping across ochre deserts. Men in blue uniforms drilling beneath a violet sky in the heat of a solar wafer splotched above them. It was real! The fears he had had, the crazy alternative that the dreams presented to him ... it was all real.
"It wasn't a dream," Nick muttered, shaking his head like a punch-drunk fighter. "I really am Firstspacer Lors! And I know you! I know you!"
"Take it easy, boy," Narvi said softly. "You've had a bad time. I might have known you _couldn't_ report to us. Thesa, get some water! He looks as though he's going to pass out!"
"I'm all right, I'm all right." He looked at Narvi and the memories, at least a few of them, came fluttering into place. The temporary amnesia slipped aside and the veil began to rise.
"You're sure you're all right, Lors?"
"Yes, Narvi. Things are beginning to make sense. Tell me about what I'm doing here."
Narvi cursed angrily. "Commander Imry, the stupid thistlebug! It's all his fault! All this fouled up thing is his doing. It would have been bad enough even without your ship crashing; that just added to it. Luckily, Imry has been ordered back. Someone back home heard of his idiotic plan and the government is yelling for his hide."
"What plan? I ... can't..."
Thesa came in with a glass of water and handed it to Lors, who sipped at it slowly while the big blond explained things to him. While Narvi talked, it all began to come into sharp focus in his mind.
"After you and I finished campaigning on Darkkan and Thista, we applied for assignment in this galaxy. They wanted to split us up, at first," Narvi grinned, "but we got mad, so they left us together and we were shipped here under old Commander Imry. After a couple of years, Terran time, studying on Mars we became agents on this planet. I got an easy one here with Thesa, but Imry had bigger plans for you. Damn him!"
"But why are we spying on these people, Narvi? For war?"
"I hope not. The Terrans are getting close to space travel, and you know what that would do to our colonies in this galaxy. They're entering a primitive Atomic civilization and they're like little children playing with weapons. Oh, they're serious enough, but they're so damned careless they're likely to ruin the planet in atomic wars..."
"Sounds like the ancient history of our own planet," Lors said softly. The memories were coming in faster now.
"True. And you know what happened to us? Damned near lost the whole planet. Anyhow, you know the other planets in this galaxy? Well, since Terra has a life form like ours, we could use this place as a link in the supply chain. That is our main purpose. Trade.
"But these people have a strange attitude. Why, if we would land a ship now, they'd rip us to shreds before you knew it. These people fear what they don't understand, and anything they can't understand they kill. So, right now, we're sending agents, or spies, down here with instructions to probe about. They're coming along rather well, getting out of the trees, you might say; but we'll have to keep an eye on them for awhile yet."
Lors finished the water. "But what has this got to do with Commander Imry and me? Apparently I was to take the place of Nick Danson, but why?"
"That was Imry. You see, many times our agents are handicapped by the very lives they lead. In order to learn about people, one has to live with them; when our agents do this, they have to get jobs and settle down in one area. Imry picked Danson because he's a footloose artist who paints illustrations for magazines. All he had to do was snatch Danson, work a little plastic surgery on you and put you in Nick Danson's place. You then, would not be confined and could roam all over the planet without being questioned."
"That's crazy," Lors told him. "I couldn't take Danson's place for the rest of my life. He was gambling on a hell of a lot."
Narvi grunted. "You're a good spacer, Lors. You follow orders, even when they're dictated by a madman. When you left the ship, you _were_ Danson. You were processed so beautifully that no one could tell the difference. When you cracked up, a blow on the head, or something, must have created a temporary amnesia and you thought you _were_ Danson. We certainly had a time locating you. Anyhow, you're to go back to the ship as soon as you can. The new commander wants to talk with you." Narvi grinned slyly. "I imagine you'll want to talk to him too. It's Zark, our old friend from Thista."
"Zark. Yes. I remember him." Lors stood up and paced the room in thought. He remembered grey haired, friendly Zark, but more than that, he remembered Commander Zark's beautiful, blond daughter, Jela. "I remember a lot now, Narvi. It's too bad they didn't send him sooner. Things wouldn't be so messed up."
"It's not so bad."
"No?"
"No. You'll probably be going back to the home planet now."
"I can't go back," Lors mused. "I have to stay and see this through. It's personal, now."
"Personal?" Narvi was clearly puzzled. "What can be personal about a Spacer and an alien race?"
He looked at his friend levelly. "I can't leave this planet, Narvi, because of Beth Danson. I'm in love with her."
"Love!" Narvi exploded.
CHAPTER TWELVE
In the heavy silence that followed, the two men stared at one another. Lors regarded his friend with matter-of-fact calmness, but Narvi's mouth was open in astonishment. The situation wasn't covered in the manual.
"Love," Narvi choked finally. "With an alien? You must be joking."
"I'm serious."
"That blow on the head must have been solid as a rock."
Thesa just stared, without speaking.
"Beth is a wonderful woman and I'm in love with her. If the blow on the head did that ... well then, I'm glad the ship cracked up."
"But, Lors! She's an alien! It's like a farmer, falling in love with his stock! It's crazy! You couldn't live on this planet the rest of your life, and she couldn't live with you!"
Lors shrugged.
"What about Jela," Narvi demanded swiftly.
He didn't answer him. Memories of the blond woman with the trim ankles, the slim waist and the large breasts floated back to him; memories of the many evenings they'd shared walking along the sand under the stars. He sat there fingering the thoughts as they rolled past, without feeling anything. He was aware, finally, that Narvi was speaking to him.
"... know how you feel, Lors, but forget it. You could never work anything out. Go on back to Jela and forget about this alien. It doesn't matter how wonderful she is; probably nothing short of killing her husband would gain her for you."
Lors smiled thinly. "We can do that, too." He paused and looked thoughtful for a moment "What did Imry do with Danson?"
"Nothing. He lives better than most spacers. Since we are minus prisons on starships, Imry installed him in your quarters, under guard, of course. Commander Zark hasn't been able to figure out what to do with him, yet. That's what he wants to talk to you about."
"Have you a scout ship here?" Lors asked.
"Certainly. We use them to make reports. The Terrans would pick up the radio waves otherwise."
"How about a uniform?"
"You can borrow one of Thesa's. You'd never get into one of mine."
"Fine. As soon as I'm properly attired, we'll go see Zark." Grinning at Narvi, Lors followed Thesa into the bedroom for the uniform.
* * * * *
Later, dressed in the uniform of a Firstspacer, Lors checked himself in the mirror of the bedroom making certain that he was properly dressed. Trousers bloused neatly into the black, half boots, the yellow stripes perfectly aligned, the cuffs of the tunic fastened at his wrists and throat, the emblems of the 8th. Terran Command on the collar, the patch of rank on his left shoulder sleeve. Yes, he was all set. Precise.