I was able to get George, Sarco, and Jones back into the ship. I'm still not sure if the cable winched me back, or whether I staggered along next to my colleagues while they got dragged along. Jones' leg got dislocated by the winch cable, and I cracked three of George's ribs heaving him up the ladder into the ship, but they didn't complain much since I saved their lives. Mother, God bless her gallium arsenide soul, was actually somewhat useful. She was able to get the ship into orbit, with only minor verbal abuse from me. She kept insisting that we all sit in those darn g-seats for take off, while I told her to just get the friggin' ship off the ground.

Once in orbit over Harvey's, I programmed the Lookout to broadcast a general "stay away" message. I locked its control module out, so the only way to disable the warning transmission was to destroy the Lookout. The message was even modulated on the Lookout's squawk signal. It would be broadcast for as long as the Lookout's thermionic generator continued to operate, which should be good for a couple of decades. Then I duplicated this whole exercise with our Lookout, since I knew we wouldn't be needing it after all. Now there were two of the sentinels orbiting the planet. There was no way any visitor to Harvey's World in the next decade or two could say they weren't warned. I doubt if the warning will be effective, but it was the least I could do before we left.

We boosted from Harvey's orbit into a parking orbit around the Gas Giant, then when the position was right, we boosted again for home. I got us to about 0.8g's, since I wanted to get home fast. I had to dump a lot of stuff first, of course, but I didn't think we'd need all those supplies now. All I kept were the reaction mass, some food, and our emergency medical supplies. I did not expect to have to build a second Explorer-class ship, so it was kind of silly to hold on to all those extra parts. This technically made our return journey less safe, but I figured it was better (and safer) to get home fast. Besides, I was tired of this whole adventure by now and wanted to see the "green hills of earth" again.

Things started to normal-out once we got back into orbit. George snapped out of it pretty fast. I was worried that he'd be stuttering worse than ever after this ordeal, but instead he dove into taking care of Sarco and Jones. That macho can-do good cheer of his returned with a vengeance. Once he had pulled out of his coma, he took a quick shower and gave himself the closest buzz haircut I've ever seen. He looked more GI than any guy I've ever seen this side of a boot camp. Heck, I even felt like I should salute him when we passed each other in the corridors of the ship. Sarco and Jones recovered pretty well with just a few weeks of George's TLC. It took them about a month to get their weight back, but otherwise they seemed none the worse for the ordeal they had been through. You'd never know they hadn't had anything to eat or drink for almost a year. It was also nice to finally have some new faces around here. Not that I spent all that much time with them, but just knowing that there was somebody besides Janet and George on board made me feel better.

Janet seemed completely preoccupied for most of the trip home, but I guess that's to be expected. She did all the captainly stuff she was supposed to do, but she spent more time alone than I did. George tried to pull her out a little bit, but after a while even he gave up. Janet resigned from the service when we finally got back to Deep Star and became a scientist working for the Goddard Institute on Europa. I find it ironic that Janet went to Europa, which is practically a little-sister-planet to Harvey's World. After all, even though gravity on Europa is only about 0.15g, they both have large, deep oceans, receive about the same sunlight, and of course, they both orbit gas giants. Maybe she wanted to be closer to home, since Jupiter is only a couple of days from Earth. Last I heard, she had done some pretty interesting work on xenobiological archeology. I guess a person can spend a lifetime studying fossils on Europa. She had told me that she had always been interested in figuring out why life died out there at the same time the dinosaurs disappeared on earth. She had occasionally told me that she did not believe in coincidences, and of course, I agree with her. Europa had once been a thriving ecosystem, but now was largely sterile. If anybody will be able to figure out why, she will.

My story gave the xenobiologists at home a lot to think and argue about. George's e-suit recorded a lot of what happened at the off-white vegetation, but not enough to answer questions to anybody's satisfaction. It turned out that the brain doctors back home had programmed Mother to report on a lot more about us than I had realized. She had been spying on us and recording everything we ever said or did. If the brain doctors wanted to see what I did in the toilet, I guess that's all right with me. I knew Mother wasn't to be trusted, but I never guessed how devious she could be. I had the last laugh, however. When she had executed my Sleepy Time program, all of that special data had been wiped from her memory. It's too bad, because some of that stuff may have been useful in explaining to the science guys back home what happened to us. The lack of information made those paranoid SOBs even more paranoid. They were convinced that I had somehow fabricated the whole mess. I wish I were that smart.

But I know what happened. I don't know why I was partially immune to the effects of that off-white vegetation. Maybe it was because this poly-metallic plate in my forehead had shielded me somehow. Maybe I was just less sensitive to its effects than the others. There appeared to be a natural variability in human susceptibility to the monster, since not everybody on the Explorer was affected to the same degree. Or maybe it was because I'm better than most people in deciding what "truths" I want to believe are "real."⁽¹⁾ And as you well know by now, selective amnesia has always been one of my better talents. God knows, I've had enough thoughts I've been able to shut out of my consciousness for quite some time. They could probably write a book about my Space Fairer's Amnesia. (Actually, I think one of the brain doctors already has written that book!) Whatever the reason for my immunity, I know I was darn lucky.

The off-white vegetation was the galaxy's only known example of a psychic predator. It didn't have to run faster than its victim. It didn't have to use sharp claws or teeth. It didn't have to trap its victim in some type of sticky web. It didn't have to hunt in packs, or develop lethal technology. All it had to do was sit there, and get its victims to lie down on a nice soft bed. If it wasn't hungry, it could keep them for a while in its own private larder. I'm guessing most of this stuff, because the super-brains back at Deep Star just listened to me, and never explained anything back. But I figure that somehow the creature sent out brain waves (or something) that interfered with the normal brain activity in its victim. The victim was mentally stimulated with copious quantities of endorphins to keep it immobile, and sent into a strange hibernation to keep it alive. My guess is that when the thing finally ate, the mental waves (or whatever) that had kept the victim placid either changed somehow, or were reduced in intensity. This would allow the victim to awaken and finally understand his predicament. Total terror would take over for the last few seconds as the victim's endorphin-flooded coma lifted and the horrible reality of the situation was suddenly understood. Apparently, our ocular systems are the most sensitive portions of our neural anatomy, so they shut down first when assaulted by the creature. Hence, the unexplained darkness we all experienced. The general disruption of our brain's normal thought processes explains why we all were so confused and uncertain. We didn't talk about it much on the way home, but most of us agreed that the creature's effect on us felt kind of like waking suddenly from a bad dream. You don't know where you are or what is happening, but you're scared. That creature is not the type I plan to invite to our next company picnic.

We are probably more susceptible to its influences than the cows on Harvey's World. I presume that the cows have evolved a partial immunity to the predator's attacks, at least at long distances. We human beings have not had fifty-thousand years in proximity to the creature, so evolution has not had enough time to provide us with any natural resistance. These cows were no Steven Hawkings either, so we may have been even more susceptible to the creatures' attacks simply due to our more complex brains and improved cognitive abilities. I guess that's why we succumbed so fast after arriving on Harvey's World, and why we were almost wiped out while the cows survive just fine as a species. We humans, who have never before been exposed to such a creature, were in danger the moment we touched down.

I'm not sure how the organism ingested its meals, but it was quick and very thorough. That's why we never found the bodies. Unfortunately, due to my screw-up in orbit, we never got a video log of the things actually eating. We know it was probably violent when it ate, based on the appearance of SN1 after Greer and Hasbrough bought it. But this violence also may have been due to their thrashing around in terror during the last few seconds rather than being due to the creature's messy eating habits, per se.

My psychic predator theory also explains why there were no carnivores noted on Harvey's World. The xenobiologists had always thought this was odd, and they were right. No world that we have ever encountered has been lacking a predator species. It's the classic food chain of photosynthesizing plants, to animals, to higher animals; every planet has to have one. Harvey's did have carnivores, it's just that we didn't recognize them as such.

Lots of people have not accepted my explanation for the psychic predator, since the video logs from Mother and George's e-suit don't show anything of the monster I saw with my human eyes. Some people have even accused me of fabricating the logs that do support my story. Since they know I messed with Mother once, they figure I messed with her lots of other times too. They say I must have altered Mother's programming, citing my Sleepy Time program and the bizarre nature of my tale as evidence. Also, I seem to have some kind of reputation as a rebel, although I'm not sure why. I say to them, "Fine, go ahead and visit Harvey's World if you want to." To my knowledge, nobody has taken me up on the offer and gone back yet.

There are still lots of unanswered questions, of course. Like, how does the psychic predator actually paralyze its prey? Does it send out thought waves? What is the nature of this radiation? Is it electromagnetic energy, or some entirely new form of radiation? Does the strength of these waves at a distance follow an inverse-square law like gravity, or is it linear? If thought waves exist, does this mean that mental telepathy may be possible? Could these predatory waves be shielded? I haven't got a clue about any of this stuff, or how it was that Jones and Sarco could remain alive for almost a year without eating or drinking. The super brains back at Deep Star were clueless about this too, but considering they are clueless about so many things, I guess this isn't so surprising.

Also, unanswered is the whole evolutionary question of how such a unique ecosystem developed. We've visited thirty other life-bearing worlds, but none has had any creature even remotely similar to that off-white vegetation. And what is in the oceans which cover ninety-five percent of Harvey's surface? I'm not going back to find out these answers, but I'm sure some people will eventually.

I'm also sure our military friends have thought of every question I just asked, and then some. Psychic weaponry strikes me as much too valuable to be ignored by the military. My guess is that they'll be the first ones back to Harvey's World. I'm not really looking forward to the advances they'll make to science, but they're inevitable, so there's no use whining over it.

The best thing is that I've completely forgotten about my Space Fairer's Amnesia. I can still see my assistant dying before my eyes, and still smell the odor of his burned flesh. I know that six men died on that mining ship because of my recklessness. Nothing I do can ever overcome that, or bring them back. But I also know that four people are alive today who would not be alive if it were not for me. So I'm still down two, which means I probably have to save three or four to pay back the universe with interest. That's why I'm off on my next rescue. There's a ship that's reported lost 1.4 light months from earth in the direction of Proxima Centauri. I volunteered for the rescue mission even before they could ask me. I don't know what happened to the ship, or if the crew is alive or dead, but I'm on my way to try to help.

Oh, by the way, I heard that George and Sarco are coming too.

1. If George Orwell's Big Brother ever shows up, I'm ready. I can double-think with the best of them!