“What are you going to do? Have the woods burned?”

“No.” Harris shook his head. “That’s not the answer; the woods are harmless. The answer is psychotherapy for the men. That’s why I’m going right back, so I can begin work. They’ve got to be made to see that the Pipers are inside them, their own unconscious voices calling to them to give up their responsibilities. They’ve got to be made to realize that there are no Pipers, at least, not outside themselves. The woods are harmless and the natives have nothing to teach anyone. They’re primitive savages, without even a written language. We’re seeing a psychological projection by a whole Garrison of men who want to lay down their work and take it easy for a while.”

The room was silent.

“I see,” Cox said presently. “Well, it makes sense.” He got to his feet. “I hope you can do something with the men you get back.”

“I hope so, too,” Harris agreed. “And I think I can. After all, it’s just a question of increasing their self-awareness. When they have that the Pipers will vanish.”

Cox nodded. “Well, you go ahead with your unpacking, Doc. I’ll see you at dinner. And maybe before you leave, tomorrow.”

“Fine.”

Harris opened the door and the Commander went out into the hall. Harris closed the door after him and then went back across the room. He looked out the window for a moment, his hands in his pockets.

It was becoming evening, the air was turning cool. The sun was just setting as he watched, disappearing behind the buildings of the city surrounding the hospital. He watched it go down.

Then he went over to his two suitcases. He was tired, very tired from his trip. A great weariness was beginning to descend over him. There were so many things to do, so terribly many. How could he hope to do them all? Back to the asteroid. And then what?

He yawned, his eyes closing. How sleepy he was! He looked over at the bed. Then he sat down on the edge of it and took his shoes off. So much to do, the next day.

He put his shoes in the corner of the room. Then he bent over, unsnapping one of the suitcases. He opened the suitcase. From it he took a bulging gunny-sack. Carefully, he emptied the contents of the sack out on the floor. Dirt, rich soft dirt. Dirt he had collected during his last hours there, dirt he had carefully gathered up.

When the dirt was spread out on the floor he sat down in the middle of it. He stretched himself out, leaning back. When he was fully comfortable he folded his hands across his chest and closed his eyes. So much work to do—But later on, of course. Tomorrow. How warm the dirt was…

He was sound asleep in a moment.

The Infinites

“I don’t like it,” Major Crispin Eller said. He stared through the port scope, frowning. “An asteroid like this with plenty of water, moderate temperature, an atmosphere similar to Terra’s oxygen-nitrogen mix—”

“And no life.” Harrison Blake, second in command, came up beside Eller. They both stared out. “No life, yet ideal conditions. Air, water, good temperature. Why?”

They looked at each other. Beyond the hull of the cruiser, the X-43y, the barren, level surface of the asteroid stretched away. The X-43y was a long way from home, half-way across the galaxy. Competition with the Mars-Venus-Jupiter Triumvirate had moved Terra to map and prospect every bit of rock in the galaxy, with the idea of claiming mining concessions later on. The X-43y had been out planting the blue and white flag for almost a year. The three-member crew had earned a rest, a vacation back on Terra and a chance to spend the pay they had accumulated. Tiny prospecting ships led a hazardous life, threading their way through the rubble-strewn periphery of the system, avoiding meteor swarms, clouds of hull-eating bacteria, space pirates, peanut-size empires on remote artificial planetoids—

“Look at it!” Eller said, jabbing angrily at the scope. “Perfect conditions for life. But nothing, just bare rock.”

“Maybe it’s an accident,” Blake said, shrugging.

“You know there’s no place where bacteria particles don’t drift. There must be some reason why this asteroid isn’t fertile. I sense something wrong.”

“Well? What do we do?” Blake grinned humorlessly. “You’re the captain. According to our instructions we’re supposed to land and map every asteroid we encounter over Class-D diameter. This is a Class-C. Are we going outside and map it or not?”

Eller hesitated. “I don’t like it. No one knows all the lethal factors floating out here in deep space. Maybe—”

“Could it be you’d like to go right on back to Terra?” Blake said. “Just think, no one would know we passed this last little bit of rock up. I wouldn’t tip them off, Eller.”

“That isn’t it! I’m concerned with our safety, and that’s all. You’re the one who’s been agitating to turn Terra-side.” Eller studied the port scope. “If we only knew.”

“Let out the pigs and see what shows. After they’ve run around for a while we should know something.”

“I’m sorry I even landed.”

Blake’s face twisted in contempt. “You’re sure getting cautious, now that we’re almost ready to head home.”

Eller moodily watched the gray barren rock, the gently moving water. Water and rock, a few clouds, even temperature. A perfect place for life. But there was no life. The rock was clean, smooth. Absolutely sterile, without growth or cover of any kind. The spectroscope showed nothing, not even one-celled water life, not even the familiar brown lichen encountered on countless rocks strewn through the galaxy.

“All right, then,” Eller said. “Open one of the locks. I’ll have Silv let out the pigs.”

He picked up the com, dialing the laboratory. Down below them in the interior of the ship Silvia Simmons was working, surrounded by retorts and testing apparatus. Eller clicked the switch. “Silv?” he said.

Silvia’s features formed on the vidscreen. “Yes?”

“Let the hamsters outside the ship for a short run, about half an hour. With line and collars, of course. I’m worried about this asteroid. There may be some toxic poisons around or radiation pits. When the pigs come back give them a rigid test. Throw the book at them.”

“All right, Cris,” Silvia smiled. “Maybe we can get out and stretch our legs after a while.”

“Give me the results of the tests as soon as possible.” Eller broke the circuit. He turned to Blake. “I assume you’re satisfied. In a minute the pigs will be ready to go out.”

Blake smiled faintly. “I’ll be glad when we get back to Terra. One trip with you as captain is about all I can take.”

Eller nodded. “Strange, that thirteen years in the Service hasn’t taught you any more self-control. I guess you’ll never forgive them for not giving you your stripes.”

“Listen, Eller,” Blake said. “I’m ten years older than you. I was serving when you were just a kid. You’re still a pasty-faced squirt as far as I’m concerned. The next time—”

“CRIS!”

Eller turned quickly. The vidscreen was relit. On it, Silvia’s face showed, frantic with fear.

“Yes?” He gripped the com. “What is it?”

“Cris, I went to the cages. The hamsters—They’re cataleptic, stretched out, perfectly rigid. Every one of them is immobile. I’m afraid something—”

“Blake, get the ship up,” Eller said.

“What?” Blake murmured, confused. “Are we—”

“Get the ship up! Hurry!” Eller raced toward the control board. “We have to get out of here!”

Blake came to him. “Is something—” he began, but abruptly he stopped, choked off. His face glazed over, his jaw slack. Slowly he settled to the smooth metal floor, falling like a limp sack. Eller stared, dazed. At last he broke away and reached toward the controls. All at once a numbing fire seared his skull, bursting inside his head. A thousand shafts of light exploded behind his eyes, blinding him. He staggered, groping for the switches. As darkness plucked at him his fingers closed over the automatic lift.