CHAPTER 13I
“So your boy did it, all by himself,” the lady history professor was saying.
Verkan Vall grinned. They were in a seminar room at the University, their chairs facing a big map of Fourth Level Aryan-Transpacific Hostigos, Nostor, northeastern Sask and northern Beshta. The pinpoints of light he had been shifting back and forth on it were out, now.
“Didn’t I tell you he was a genius?”
“Just how much genius did it take to lick a bunch of klunks like that?” said Talgan Dreth, the outtime studies director. “The way I heard it, they licked themselves.”
“Well, considerable, to predict their errors accurately and plan to exploit them,” argued old Professor Shalgro, the paratemporal probability theorist. To him, it was a brilliant theoretical achievement, and the battle was merely th
