A. Smith - Royal Road

Illustrated by Kelly Freas

That piece of Arkadian doggerel-philosophy had never much impressed Duke Harald; not, that is, until he came to Terra as a student.

The situation was itself a paradox of sorts. There was his very presence on the mother world; he, Lord of the Outer Marches, premier duke of Arkady, a scarred and dark-faced soldier among a crowd of boys. And then, he had allowed himself but two months to achieve what others won with hardship in a full two years.

Two months on Terraand scant progress yet!

There must be a faster way, he said aloud, running heavy fingers through close-cropped hair.

The slim and elegant Terran who was his sole companion in the study cell looked up and threw a brief smile across the low partition of the double lectern. For a moment, Duke Harald ignored the unspoken question; then:

You know why Im here on Terra, young Melton?

To learn telepathywhy else?

I dont mean that. I mean, what use is this telepathy to me, that I should come a thousand parsecs just to gain the knack of it?

Why well, youre a soldier, Im told, and I suppose that esper skills must have some place in warfare The Terrans voice trailed off in silence. For generations war had been unknown on Terra, and the mental frame of reference that was needed had all but faded from the planets culture.

On the contrary. Indeed, Duke Harald thought with sudden insight, the broad intimacy of telepathic contact might prove unhandy to a soldier. Efficiency demanded an abstract, an impersonal attitude towards the enemy of the moment. Was that, perhaps, why Terra didnt make war too readily these days?

Of course, the Arkadian went on, for military intelligencefinding out what the other sides planning to do, so you can do it sooner and betterit might be useful. But even so, wars have been won before, and will be won again, without the esper skill.

What then? asked Melton. If the skill is of no use

No use, said Duke Harald, only if we of Arkady were faced with the usual war against the usual human enemy. But were not. Were up against that galactic rarity, an alien species thats as ready and willing to fight, almost, as any of human stock.

Terrans dont fight. Meltons tone held a shade of self-satisfied condescension.

No. I suppose not. But out thereDuke Harald made a sweeping ges-ture that took in the far reaches of the universewe havent the time or the leisure to grow soft! Particularly on the newer worlds, like Arkady. On and off, weve had to trade blasters and bombs with aliens ever since my grandfather brought the first starship in from Old Altair.

Looking down at the papers on his desk, the Terran murmured dryly, That would be, I presume, at the time of the revolution on Altair?

Aye, said Duke Harald, curtly. And paused to regain composure. Even after two generations, any mention of the fall of the old dynasty of Altair could prick the touchy pride of an Arkadian nobleman. But he had learned that it was futile to argue the point with a Terran. Their histories taught such a queerly twisted version of the Great Exile.

Well! Right now theres a truceof sorts. Great Khrom alone knows how long it will last! But to get to the bones and marrow of the problem: our nonhuman opponents are also natural telepalhs. Pure telepaths, the Arkadian repeated, stressing the adjective pointedly.

Pure telepaths? Melton was interested, puzzled, and faintly skeptical. You cant meanno language, no sensory communication at all?

I mean just that, said Duke Harald flatly. You see the problem? Its not a question of screening off a few special operators. Any man of theirsif you want to call them men!is a potential spy, once hes within esper range. And we cant learn their plans, at least not soon enough or in sufficient detail. Why, his voice grew harsh, we dont even bother to take prisoners any morel What use, when that prisoner cant be questioned; when he just squats there, dumb and insolent, picks your brains, and relays the information back to his home base?

And so, they have an edge?

A slight one, Duke Harald admitted. Just enough to match our superiority in technical skill, and in sheer fighting ability. Otherwise they wouldnt have lasted six monthsold Homo sapiens is still the fightingest animal of them all!

And then Duke Harald grinned suddenly, at the look of shocked surprise that crossed the Terrans face.

Yes, he said, still smiling, I know thats almost an indecent remark, here on Terra. But its still a fact of nature out among the stars. How else do you suppose people from old Nerra managed to grab off so many of the choicest worlds of the galaxy? By sweet reasonableness?

But surely, asked Melton, fascinated despite himself, if you have no telepaths of your own, you could have had the services of an esper adept from Terra? Would that not have been faster than this lengthy training?

Faster, sure. And almost certainly fatal to his own plans, and perhaps even to the whole present culture of Arkady. For he had not forgottenif the other hadthe rumor that a Terran adept had been in part responsible for the fall of the old kings of Altair. And Arkady, its throne long vacant, ruled by a divided and quarrelsome Council of Peers, was ripe at last to herald a new dynasty. No, this was decidedly not the time to let Terran ideas of democracy loose among the commoners.

Yes, it would be faster, Duke Harald said again, choosing his words with care. He could not, he reminded himself, afford to become embroiled in political arguments. But we of Arkady have always tried to make our own way in the universe. And, he paused briefly, would any Terran, adept though he might be, either enjoy or be particularly good at military problems?

Melton said nothing; made only a silent gesture of distaste.

And so, Duke Harald finished, here am I, a somewhat reluctant student at your Esper Institute, while the aliens are up to Khrom knows what! Again I say, I wish there were something faster. Surely your scientists ought to have come up with something new by now! Some wonder drug or other?

That last was a fishing expedition; a search for confirmation, however slight, of the rumor that had first reached him on distant Arkady. Would Melton rise to the bait?

Well, said the Terran slowly, poker-faced, so far theres only TPH.

TPH? Whats that?

Telepathic hormone. But, Meltons smile seemed as much for himself as for the Arkadians ill-concealed glare of interest, unfortunately its just a myth. No, wait, as Duke Harald began to voice protest, I apologize for taking advantage of you; I realize only too well how you must feel. But did you think you were the only one who was ever impatient to acquire esper skill? You should have been born a Terran, then; brought up in the conviction that knowledge of the mind is the highest human knowledge. And yet, we Terrans have our share of laziness. Hence the common dreamso common that weve even given it a name!the fantasied wish-fulfillment of a magic potion that will shortcircuit all this work and study. Im afraid, his tones were apologetic, that our early training is not perhaps so reality-centered as we sometimes like to think.

So the pattern had repeated itself; the same tale told, with the same disclaimer of its truth! But Melton was speaking again.

To be blunt, he was saying with an air of finality, there really does not seem to be any easy wayany royal road to telepathy.

Nevertheless Duke Haralds sense of urgency remained. There was still the problem of the aliens. And, a part of that problem, and yet peculiarly distinct, was his own private plan, now working so slowly towards fruition. As premier duke of Arkady, he had been able to persuade the Council to send him on this quest. But he was not naive enough to think that grudging consent meant an end to opposition. For he had rivals in the CouncilDuke Charles, for one. And if those rivals came to realize how near completion were his plansattainment of the esper skill was all that he now neededthen the noble weather vanes would change their minds, vote for his recall, and bring in a Terran adept. The more fools they, to risk another Altair!