And in that negotiation with the aliens, Axonius must be the tie splitter-on the spot-if Synapo and Neuronius disagreed. Axonius could be placed in a quite delicate position. He could literally be dumped from the elite if he made a wrong decision, no matter how the contest between Synapo and Neuronius came out.

However, Axonius did have one factor going for him: he had nine votes in a caucus that would exclude Synapo and Neuronius. Each member of the elite had votes corresponding in number to his position in the hierarchy.

So now, all of this was surely going through the minds of the other two Cerebrons as Synapo turned to Neuronius to obtain his response.

The bodycast was not good. Neuronius radiated confidence, and that must surely have an effect on Axonius, which could make things difficult for Synapo if Neuronius took a contrary course.

“Miss Ariel Welsh, you plead a good case for the cause of your people,” Neuronius said. “Perhaps I do not fully understand all that you said, but my mentor is an excellent instructor who has never failed me thus far, so I'm reasonably sure I understood the gist of your remarks.

“You radiate confidence and sincerity and all the other aspects essential to the execution of leadership, so you can surely not be found at fault in that regard

“And your proposed change to the labor-intensive mode of agriculture seems-on the surface-benign, as you so eloquently describe it.

“The node compensator is operating at ninety-nine-point-two percent efficiency, and that has proved acceptable in Cerebron caucus, so that certainly is a point in your favor.

“And neither you nor your servant, taken individually, nor the small collection represented by one of your loaded vehicles-all small thermal emitters-constitute a weather node, as my mentor has concluded.

“Those are all positive arguments that weigh in your favor, but we must counterpose on the scale the few negative things which argue against your proposal before we can assess which way the scale finally tips.

“And surely weighing in against your proposal are the deaths of our two colleagues, and in the particular case of the last fatality, the passive state of our colleague before his death-in tether, a grim way to die without being able to defend one's self. How many more deaths of Ceremyons lie in the future?

“Yet those deaths-which can be largely attributed to misunderstandings by incompetent servants-and the small likelihood of more deaths in the future, do not tip the scale against you.

“Now we must weigh the true nature of the agricultural mode and the supporting, partially compensated, city nodes, and there is where we stumble.

“We know nothing about the agricultural mode except your reassurances of its serene harmlessness, nor do we know what additional emanations may find their way out of the opening in the city compensator.

“You term our fears irrational, when any rational being, considering your past performance, must judge your actions to be frightening and such fears to be well founded.

“We mourn our dead colleagues, and we are ever so uncertain concerning the nature of your proposal, so we have no choice but to vehemently oppose your further occupation of our planet. We do not consider your intentions benign, Miss Ariel Welsh, not by a hooked eye.”

Neuronius hunched his wings and fell silent.

The fool,Synapo thought. He has just cast himself from the elite. There is little doubt of that. And just as I suspected. he reacted to the small alien's haughty disparagement when she used the term “irrational.” It weighed in heavily with the fool's own irrationality. his basic paranoia. which I have long suspected.

Thank god for the level-headed Axonius.

Now it was time for Synapo to cast his own vote.

If he agreed with Neuronius, he would only have to say so, and Axonius would be off the hook. For Synapo to register his opposition, he had only to ask Axonius for his opinion.

Which he did.

“And how say you, Axonius?”

For the second time that morning, Synapo felt some misgivings. Axonius's body language showed fear and irresolution when he should have been exuding confidence and decisiveness.

“Clearly,” Axonius said, “Neuronius has properly assessed the situation and has come to a remarkably astute conclusion.”

Synapo was stunned. His clever strategy had backfired completely. His attention this past year had been too much on the paranoia of Neuronius, and he had failed to properly assess Axonius, who had always seemed such a reliable lieutenant. That was where Synapo had gone wrong, perhaps: the difficulty of properly assessing someone you basically like and who invariably agrees with you.

It was a mere formality now. Synapo was foremost a statesman and a loyal Ceremyon; and a politician only when it wouldn't hurt the tribes.

He could have opposed his two subordinates, and the elite might grudgingly have supported him, but then he would have presented to the aliens the picture of a race and a government in disarray. It was more the position of the elite to acknowledge that disarray after the fact and to show magnanimity toward the aliens and flexibility in government by reversing the decision of their agents.

“We agree, then,” he said. “It pains me, Miss Ariel Welsh, but your proposal cannot be accepted. In our short acquaintance, I have come to admire and respect you -your forthrightness and courage and unfailing good humor. May all those attributes stand you in good stead as you take this painful decision back to your people.”

He was finished as the leader of the Cerebrons unless he could get this decision reversed in caucus-and in a caucus truncated to nine members with the nine votes of Axonius weighing in against him.

Chapter 11. S.O.S.

Immediately after the meeting, Ariel and Jacob returned to the apartment. Jacob started toward his storage niche, but Ariel forestalled him.

“Fix a large garden salad, Jacob,” she said, “with thousand island and a couple of glasses of milk. Set the table for two. And then join me. It won't hurt you to. act human for a change, like you're enjoying my company. That's an order.”

“That is an order not difficult to comply with,” Jacob said.

“Do you like thousand island dressing?” Ariel asked.

“Whatever pleases you, Miss Ariel. Lacking true taste buds, I really have no preference.”

“What a shame. You're missing half the pleasure of life.”

“Experiencing the pleasure of taste has never been my privilege. But of course,” he added swiftly, so as to preclude generating displeasure for Ariel, “neither have I missed it.”

“Did you have any reaction to the meeting this morning, then? Pleasure, displeasure?”

“My positronic potentials registered a sharp disturbance when it was apparent that the aliens were not going to endorse your proposal. I was reacting, however, not to a subjective or objective analysis, but to the knowledge that you were going to be intensely disappointed and in a quandary as to how to proceed.”

“You have certainly analyzed my reaction correctly. Quandary is the operative word. I've held off calling Derec until now because I wanted to be able to tell him what he had to do rather than have him tell me what I had to do.”

Jacob keyed the food processor and received a head of lettuce, two tomatoes, a cucumber, a handful of mushrooms, a block of cheddar cheese, a block of ham, a package of bacon bits, and a package of croutons. Derec had done a great deal to improve food processor technology while he was on Robot City.

“I really had a darn good chance of being in the driver's seat,” Ariel continued. “When that farm inspiration came to me, I really thought it was the answer. I really thought old Synapo would buy it.”