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Updated: June 22, 2025
He'd been identified as the Talent for Predicting Dirty Tricks. Bors remembered that he had a paranoid personality, inclined toward infinite suspiciousness, and that he'd been in jail for predicting crimes that were later committed. "Gwenlyn says propaganda," said Morgan, "but I prefer to think of these two Talents as our Department for Disseminating Truthful Seditious Rumors. You've met Harms."
There was a sort of ordered confusion, and then other ground-cars began to stream away from the palace. Morgan appeared and waved to Bors. He hesitated, and Morgan pointed to an unofficial vehicle. Inside, Gwenlyn was smiling cheerfully at Bors. He found himself returning the smile, and allowed himself to be guided to her. The ground-car rolled swiftly after the others.
Don't you remember what that Department works on? Of course you've got to send those news-reports!" Bors ordered a space-boat to come from the cargo-ship for the reports. "Would you like to come to dinner on the yacht?" asked Gwenlyn. "You're all living on emergency rations. Nobody asked us to divide our supplies with the fleet. I can give you a nice meal."
He turned in and, despite his tensions, fell asleep immediately and slept soundly. When he awoke he felt curiously relaxed. It took him a moment to realize he had dreamed about Gwenlyn. He couldn't remember what he had dreamed, but he knew it was comfortable and good. He wouldn't let himself dwell on it, however. There was work to be done. It was singularly like morning on a planet.
Gwenlyn found Bors secluded in the palace, waiting until it was time to board ship and head for Mekin. Her father accompanied her. "I've come to say goodbye," she said gently. "We've done what we came for." "I still don't understand why you came," said Bors, who would much rather have said something else. "We can't possibly do anything adequate in return. Why did you come?"
Bors, in fact, felt guilty because he was still alive. There was only one small thing he could still try to set aright. He could insist that Morgan take Gwenlyn far away from the dangerous possibility that Mekin might somehow find her. He had to make Morgan see the need for it.
That's the precognition you mentioned on Kandar that the fleet wouldn't be wiped out and everybody killed." "No-o-o," said Gwenlyn. "That was another one. I'd rather not tell you about it. It might be unpleasant. I'll tell you later." Bors shrugged. "All right. You said I'm to be measured for rumors? Bring on your tape-measures!" Morgan beamed at him. Gwenlyn went to the door and opened it.
He relaxed. Gwenlyn tried to read. She did not succeed. She was excessively nervous. Bors was not. The fleet re-formed itself well out from Kandar. It made for a rendezvous over a pole of the gas-giant planet which was the fourth planet from Kandar's sun. It was almost, but not quite in line with that yellow star toward the base, from which the Mekinese flotilla would come.
Gwenlyn smiled at him. It was a very nice smile. "She could tell that things had gone wrong with the ship," she observed, "because of the way you felt. But I've forbidden her ever to tell when someone lies to me or anything like that. I don't want to know people's feelings when they want to hide them." "Fine!" said Bors. "I feel better." Standing so close to Gwenlyn, he also felt light-headed.
"And as for Gwenlyn and Bors," Morgan added, confidentially, "I'll tell you something. My Talents've been working on her future. I wouldn't tell her all of it. Some of it should be a surprise. But she and Bors are going to be what you call happy ever after! And that's Talents, Incorporated information! You can depend on it!" by H. Beam Piper F-118 40¢
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