Esro Mondrian stared uneasily at the needles. Sap-sucking? Perhaps — but only if the word could apply to the body juices of plants and animals.

The urge to flinch away from her touch was strong. He resisted it and sat upright on the velvet couch. “I know how you must feel. Some humans also experience exhilaration from blood. Myself, I draw excitement from other sources. Can we talk about the session now? Are you controlled enough to tell me what you have found?”

“Of course.” Skrynol, swaying like a sailing rig in a high sea, somehow reared her jointed body up another six feet. “We do not yet have a solution for your difficulties, but I think I can fairly say that at last we have defined the problem. I will begin with a question. You are Chief of Boundary Survey Security. Tell me, if you will, how you came to that position.”

“Through the usual route.” Mondrian was puzzled. “After I first left Earth I studied the other civilizations in the Stellar Group, and then took a job in commercial liaison with them. After that it was just a matter of hard work and steady promotion.”

“That is the way it may appear to you. But your physical response when certain subjects are mentioned makes one fact obvious: the rise to your present position was less circumstantial than you believe. You were driven to seek it. As I told you in our first meeting, your nightmares are no more than analogies. But we are past that level. Now we must ask, analogies for what?”

Skrynol turned to a marker screen that sat behind her, and drew a circle in the middle with her left forelimb. She placed a small dot in the center and drew a set of radii to connect it with the circumference. “It is time for a little lecture from me. This is you” — she tapped the central dot — “sitting in the middle of a safe region. Like most members of your species you are dominated by self-concern, and so you see yourself at the center of the universe.” She pointed to the radiating spokes. “You also dream of a web. And indeed, you sit in the middle of such a web — a web of information, provided to you through the Mattin Links from everything within the Perimeter. In your dreams there is a dark region. And sure enough, in your working world there is also a dark region. It is everything that lies beyond the Perimeter. More than that, it is terrifying to you. Maybe you can control everything within the known sphere of space — but how can you possibly control what is outside it? How can you even know what is there?”

Skrynol tapped the screen. “In your dreams the safe lighted region is always shrinking, the dark and dangerous zone always comes closer. And in the real world, the Perimeter grows, since through the probes and the Mat-tin Links new parts of space are steadily made more accessible. They are accessible to you — and you are accessible to them. That is the problem. You do not know what may lie beyond today’s Perimeter, but you know you are afraid of it. The safe region is not really shrinking. It only seems to be so, because the unsafe region steadily becomes larger. New space is added all the time.

“So how can you minimize the danger? It is simple. You seek the position which gives you maximum control over the Perimeter. That is the position of Chief of Boundary Survey Security. You cannot banish the dangers, because they are caused by a force beyond your control: the Solar Group’s expansionist policy. But at least you will learn of any danger as early as possible, and be in a position to combat it. You had no choice except to seek the position of Chief of Boundary Security. And you will do anything to protect the Perimeter. Anything at all.”

Mondrian froze, his exhaustion forgotten. The Pipe-Rilla had discovered his secret — knew why he needed the Morgan Construct.

But the Pipe-Rilla was leaning forward, until her broad, heart-shaped face was less than a foot from Mondrian’s. “I pity you, Esro Mondrian,” she went on. “Although I cannot share your fears, I know that your nightmare is real. You are afraid of the rest of the Universe, everything that lies beyond the Perimeter.” The dark, lid-less eyes stared into his. “Do you understand my analysis, and accept it?”

Mondrian’s nod was no more than a tiny tightening of neck muscles. “I accept it. But I do not know where it leads. Are you telling me that the nightmares must continue as long as I hold my present position?”

“Not at all. You accept, but you do not understand. You sought your present position in an attempt to control the situation, and so banish your nightmares. But those nightmares are not the result of your position, or of the existence of the Perimeter. They stem from a much deeper cause — deeper within Esro Mondrian.”

“What is that cause?”

Skrynol shook her head. “That, I do not know. Not yet. But I do know that it lies deep-buried, far back in your childhood. Still I cannot reach it. I need help. That is why you must do something more.”

“Name it.” Mondrian’s face was pale and dull-eyed, but he was relaxing again.

“You must stay here. Travel the Earth, This planet was the scene of your earliest and most hidden experiences. You may not recognize the original source of your fears, even when you encounter it; but I will know it, through your unconscious responses. And then, at last, I will be able to help you.”

“I can’t do what you ask. I am too busy to spend more time on Earth.”

“You must. Until you do so, your problem will not be solved. Think upon this.” Skrynol swayed up, away from Mondrian. “That is the end of the session for today. I can see your weariness and your distress. Put on your shirt, and I will lead you back.”

Mondrian sighed, and shook his head. “Not yet. We have one more item of business.”

“You are exhausted. For your own sake, make it brief.”

“I cannot promise that.” Mondrian reached into his jacket pocket and took out a black wafer the size of his thumbnail. “This is a summary of human expansion plans. It provides only a broad outline. Before you receive more, I must hear through official channels that full control of the Travancore operation will belong to the Anabasis. That control must not be subject to interference from our ambassador, or from anyone else. I also want it agreed that the Anabasis will be allowed to quarantine the planet Travancore while the escaped Morgan Construct is being hunted.”

Skrynol reached out and took the wafer delicately from his hand. She bobbed her head from side to side, examining the small black square. “I will try to do as you ask. Already I am doing as much as I can.”

“Why is it taking so long?”

Skrynol waved a forelimb at him reprovingly. “Esro Mondrian, you above all others should not be making the common error of your species. Pipe-Rillas are individuals, as much so as humans. Each of us has her own preferences and agenda. There is as much variety of thought and desire among us as there is among your people. And so I must seek a consensus before I can act. That is not easy, since my species does not trust yours. But this” — she waved the black wafer — “will simplify my task. Have patience. If you have given me what I need, the Anabasis will control access to Travancore.”

“Don’t look for much detail in those plans. What you have is only an outline. The rest will be available in ten more days.”

“For the moment, this is enough.” The Fropper placed the wafer carefully in one of her body pouches. “You see, even if the plans that you have given me are wrong in some details — wrong even in every detail — that is not of great importance. Your species went through the mental processes needed to create such plans. It is those mental processes, the broad concepts, that we want more than the plans themselves. To my species, it is inconceivable that such ideas could ever be imagined, still less that the actions they describe might be carried out. “But we have read human history. When it comes to war and fighting, the human species may not — I give you the benefit of the doubt — be wholly aggressive. But you are certainly aggressive. And you have a saying, that where all are blind the creature with a single eye will prevail. In matters of conquest and destruction my species is blind, as are the Tinkers and the Angels.”