Elephant lived halfway up a cliff. A sheer mile-high cliff.
The phone rang.
On the third ear-jarring ring I answered, mainly to stop the noise. A supercilious voice asked, "Is somebody out there?"
"I'm afraid not," I said. "Does someone named Elephant live here?"
"I'll see, sir," said the voice. The screen had not lit, but I had the feeling someone had seen me quite clearly.
Seconds crawled by. I was half minded to jump back in the transfer booth and dial at random. But only half; that was the trouble. Then the screen lit, and it was Elephant. "Bey! You changed your mind!"
"Yah. You didn't tell me you were rich"
"You didn't ask."
"Well, no, of course not."
"How do you expect to learn things if you don't ask? Don't answer that. Hang on, I'll be right down. You did change your mind? You'll let me show you Earth?"
"Yes I will. I'm scared to go out there alone."
"Why? Don't answer. Tell me in person." He hung up.
Seconds later the big bronze doors swung back with a bone-shaking boom. They just barely got out of Elephant's way. He pulled me inside, giving me no time to gape, shoved a drink in my hand, and asked why I was afraid to go outside.
I told him about the pickpocket, and he laughed. He told me about the time he tried to go outside during a We Made It summer, and I laughed, though I've heard of outworlders being blown away and to Hades doing the same thing. Amazingly, we were off again. It was just like it had been on the ship, even to the end of Elephant's anecdote. "They called me a silly flatlander, of course."
"I've been thinking about that," I said.
"About what?"
"You said you'd give a lot to do something completely original, so the next time someone called you a flatlander, you could back him into a corner and force him to listen to your story. You said it several times."
"I didn't say just that. But I would like to have some story to tell, something like your neutron star episode. If only to tell myself. The silly offworlder wouldn't know, but I'd know."
I nodded. I'd talked about the neutron star episode over gin cards--a habit I've developed for distracting my opponent--and Elephant had been suitably impressed.
"I've thought of a couple of things you could do," I said.
"Spill."
"One. Visit the puppeteer home world. Nobody's been there, but everyone knows there is one, and everyone knows how difficult it is to find. You could be the first."
"Great." He mused a moment. "Great! And the puppeteers wouldn't stop me because they're gone. Where is the puppeteer home world?"
"I don't know."
"What's your second idea?"
"Ask the Outsiders."
"Huh?"
"There's not a system in the galaxy that the Outsiders don't know all about. We don't know how far the puppeteer empire extended, though it was way beyond known space, but we do know about the Outsiders. They know the galaxy like the palm of their--uh ... And they trade for information; it's just about the only business they do. Ask them what's the most unusual world they know of within reach."
Elephant was nodding gently. There was a glazed look in his eyes. I had not been sure he was serious about seeking some unique achievement. He was.
"The problem is," I said, "that an Outsider's idea of what is unique may not--" I stopped, because Elephant was up and half running to a tridphone.
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