"Well?" Fred prompted.

"It shifts."

"That's impossible," said Junior.

"Not for Fweep," Four replied.

"What do you mean by that?" Joyce suspiciously asked.

"It shifted," Four explained patiently, "because Fweep kept following me."

"Fweep?" Junior repeated stupidly.

"Fweep?" Fweep said eagerly.

"He's why the flivver won't work. What Grampa invented was a linear polarizer. Fweep is a circular polarizer. He's what makes this planet so heavy. He's why we can't leave."

The land of the Fweep rotated once on its axis, and Grampa lowered the nippled bottle from his lips. He sighed. "I got it figured out, Four," he said, holding out the pircuit proudly. "A missionary takes over a non-rowing type cannibal, leaves him there, and then the rowing cannibal takes over the other cannibal and leaves him there and--"

"Not now, Grampa," Four said inattentively as he watched Fweep making the grand tour of the cabin.

The raspberry sphere swept over a scattering of crumbs, engulfed them, absorbed them. Four looked at Joyce. Joyce was watching Fweep, too.

"Rat poison?" Four asked.

Joyce started guiltily. "How did you know?"

"There's no use trying to poison Fweep," Four said calmly. "He's got no enzymes to act on, no nervous system to paralyze. He doesn't even use what he 'eats' on a molecular level at all."

"What level does he use?" Junior wanted to know.

"Point the scintillation counter at him."

Junior dug one of the counters out of the supply cabinet and aimed the pickup at Fweep. The counter began to hum. As Fweep approached, the hum rose in pitch. As it passed, the hum dropped.

Junior looked at the counter's dial. 

 Prev. P 10/20 next