The Robert Silverberg Science Fiction MEGAPACK® Read Online Free

another.
    There was nothing I could do. But I sensed tension heightening among the crewmen. They were annoyed at themselves, at each other, at me, at everything.
    On the fifth day, Ketteridge and Willendorf finally let their accumulated tenseness explode. They had been working together on the network, but they quarreled, and Ketteridge came storming into my cabin immediately afterward.
    “Sir, I demand to be allowed to work on the network by myself. It’s my speciality, and Willendorf’s only snarling things up.”
    “Get me Willendorf,” I said.
    When Willendorf showed up I heard the whole story, decided quickly to let Ketteridge have his way—it was, after all, his specialty—and calmed Willendorf down. Then, reaching casually for some papers on my desk, I dismissed both of them. I knew they’d come to their senses in a day or so.
    I spent most of the next day sitting placidly in the sun, while Ketteridge tinkered with the feed network some more. I watched the faces of the men. They were starting to smoulder. They wanted to get home, and they weren’t getting there. Besides, this was a fairly dull planet, and even the novelty of Alaree wore off after a while. The little alien had a way of hanging around men who were busy scraping fuel deposits out of the jet tubes, or something equally unpleasant, and bothering them with all sorts of questions.
    The following morning I was lying blissfully on the grass near the ship, talking to Alaree. Ketteridge came to me, and by the tightness of his lips I knew he was in trouble.
    I brushed some antlike blue insects off my trousers and rose to a sitting position, leaning against the tall, tough-barked tree behind me. “What’s the matter, Ketteridge? How’s the feed network?”
    He glanced uneasily at Alaree for a moment before speaking. “I’m stuck, sir. I’ll have to admit I was wrong. I can’t fix it by myself.”
    I stood up and put my hand on his shoulder. “That’s a noble thing to say, Ketteridge. It takes a big man to admit he’s been a fool. Will you work with Willendorf now?”
    “If he’ll work with me, sir,” Ketteridge said miserably.
    “I think he will,” I said. Ketteridge saluted and turned away, and I felt a burst of satisfaction. I’d met the crisis in the only way possible; if I had ordered them to cooperate, I would have gotten no place. The psychological situation no longer allowed for unbending military discipline.
    After Ketteridge had gone, Alaree, who had been silent all this time, looked up at me in puzzlement. “We do not understand,” he said.
    “Not we ,” I corrected. “ I . You’re only one person. We means many people.”
    “We are only one person?” Alaree said tentatively.
    “No. I am only one person. Get it?”
    He worried the thought around for a few moments; I could see his browless forehead contract in deep concentration.
    “Look,” I said. “I’m one person. Ketteridge is another person. Willendorf is another. Each one of them is an independent individual, an I .”
    “And together you make we ?” Alaree asked brightly.
    “Yes and no,” I said. “ We is composed of many I’s —but we still remain I .”
    Again he sank deep in concentration, and then he smiled, scratched the ear that protruded from one side of the thought-helmet, and said, “ We do not understand. But I do. Each of you is—is an I .”
    “An individual,” I said.
    “An individual,” he repeated. “A complete person. And together, to fly your ship, you must become a we .”
    “But only temporarily,” I said. “There still can be conflict between the parts. That’s necessary, for progress. I can always think of the rest of them as they .”
    “I…they,” Alaree repeated slowly. “ They .” He nodded. “It is difficult for me to grasp all this. I…think differently. But I am coming to understand, and I am worried.”
    That was a new idea. Alaree worried? Could be, I reflected. I had no way of knowing. I knew so little about