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"But I guess about the only thing I could do in that case would be to" The Guesser's voice suddenly became a bellow "kick your thick head in!" Kraybo's face drained of color suddenly. The Guesser became suddenly brusque. "Never mind. We'll let it go for now. Report to the Discipline Master in Intensity Five for ten minutes total application time. Dismissed."
"You're either a liar or an idiot," said The Guesser harshly, "and I wish to eternity I knew which!" Kraybo, standing at attention, merely swallowed and said nothing. He had felt the back of The Guesser's hand too often before to expose himself intentionally to its swing again. The Guesser narrowed his eyes and tried to see what was going on in Kraybo's mind.
"Private booth, best of everything, perfect privacy " The Guesser shook his head quickly. "No. Just tell me how to get to Mallard's." The barman looked at him for a moment, rubbing a fingertip across his chin, then he said: "You're not driving, I suppose, sir? No? Well, then, you can either take the tubeway or walk, sir...." He let the sentence hang, waiting for The Guesser's decision.
To compute such an orbit required a special type of human mind, and therefore a special type of human. It required a Guesser. The way a Guesser's mind operated could only be explained to a Guesser by another Guesser. But, as far as anyone else was concerned, only the objective results were important. A Guesser could "guess" the route of a moving ship, and that was all anyone cared about.
Words choked suddenly in the Guesser's throat, and he had to swallow hard before he could speak. "I know that. I'm ... I'm going with you." The lieutenant's eyes widened a trifle. "No orders have been taped to that effect, great sir." This is it! thought The Guesser. He would either put it over now or he'd be lost completely. He scowled. "Then tape them!
"Yes, sir," said the tense-faced Kraybo. "I admit my error, and I'm willing to take my punishment." The Guesser grinned wolfishly. "Well, isn't that big-hearted of you? I'm very glad you're willing, because I just don't know what I'd do if you refused." Kraybo's face burned crimson, but he said nothing. The Guesser's voice was sarcastically soft.
He was not only a Guesser, but a first-class predictor, and he showed impatience with those of his underlings who failed to use their ability in any particular. At the moment of the ship's landing, he was engaged in verbally burning the ears off Kraybo, the young man who would presumably take over The Guesser's job one day if he ever learned how to handle it.
He stood at the door of The Guesser's cubicle, accompanied by a sergeant-at-arms. "Master Guesser, you will come with us." His manner was bored and somewhat flat. The Guesser bowed his head as he saluted. "As you command, great sir." And he followed the lieutenant into the corridor, the sergeant tagging along behind.
Now, what I want to know is this: were you really guessing or were you following the computer too closely?" "I was following the computer," said Kraybo, in a slightly wavering voice. "I'm sorry for the error, sir; it won't happen again." The Guesser's voice almost became a snarl. "It hadn't better!
The Guesser's knowledge of history was close to nonexistent, but he had heard that the expansion to the stars from Earth a planet he had never been within a thousand parsecs of had been accomplished by the expedient of combining volunteers with condemned criminals and shipping them off to newly-found Earth-type planets.
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