Jeff realized that things were pretty bad for Norby to whine along those lines.

"Let up for a while, Fargo. Why don't we just sit and sing for a while until our brains clear."

There was a long pause while Fargo simply stared at his younger brother. Then he pounded his right fist into his left palm. "My brother is a genius."

"Why? What did I do?"

Fargo was too busy laughing to answer, so Norby answered for him.

"I think," he said, "that Fargo's decided that the numbers on the hassock stand for musical notes. I think he's right. As soon as you mentioned music, Jeff, my brain told me it was the solution. I'm surprised Fargo saw it, too. You both have your moments-for human beings."

It took another hour, but, with the help of Norby and the Hopeful's computer, Fargo decided he had the song.

"Shall I sing it?"

"Yes!" said Norby.

"No!" said Jeff. "Let me get a stun gun first, in case the hassock turns out to be a lethal robot machine of the Others."

"We don't have any stun guns," Fargo said cheerfully. "You know my motto 'clever words are all you need.' "

"Albany uses karate," said Jeff.

"Well," said Fargo, shrugging, "beautiful women have their ways. If there's a nasty little machine inside that hassock, we'll make it Norby's responsibility to deal with it."

"Why me?" asked Norby.

"Because you have your moments-for a robot."

Jeff laughed. "Well, then, go ahead, Fargo. Sing."

Fargo sang the coded notes. After the last note rang out, they watched the hassock. Nothing happened.

"Wrong rhythm, do you suppose?" Fargo asked.

"I think it should be in a minor key," said Norby, "now that I come to think of it."

"If you didn't have your thought processes mixed up," said Jeff, "you'd come to think of it beforehand instead of afterward."

"Better afterward than not at all," said Norby loftily. "My alien machinery has been a big help to you. How far would you have gotten on this hassock without me?"

"True enough," said Jeff.

Fargo sang again, a sad song this time, slow and melancholy, and Jeff wondered what the hassock might contain that had to be released in this sorrowful fashion.

The song ended. The three in the control room, and the ship's computer, too, were all silent. Outside, the planet Jamya was also silent.

But something began to happen. The hassock cover seemed to be getting thinner, lighter-and suddenly it cracked in two, the halves falling apart like a neatly struck eggshell.

"By all the satellites of Jupiter," said Fargo, "what is that?"

It was green and fuzzy-or maybe they were fuzzy scales, or scales so small and neat as to look like fuzz. Whatever it was, it looked like another dragon, all curled up with its head hidden.

The creature uncurled, shook itself, and the scales became much fuzzier. It was a small animal about the size of a cat, with a round head and tiny pointed ears, a thin gold collar, and an odd snout with fangs.

Fargo backed away. "Norby, do you think we ought to be protected from that fanged thing?"

Norby did nothing but stare at the creature.

"Is it familiar to you, Norby?" Jeff asked in Jamyn, hoping the creature would understand.

Its small ears pricked up, but the animal only yawned. It shook itself once more, stretched, and began to circumnavigate the control room-sniffing at everything and waving its long, very fuzzy tail.

"When cats wave their tails, it means they're angry," said Fargo.

"But when dogs do, they're happy," said Jeff. "If this is like the dragons, it ought to be able to understand when we speak Jamyn."

"As a matter of fact," said Norby, "it's a 'she,' and she doesn't talk. She's not very bright, you see, but she's not dangerous, either. I remember now."

"Why was she hidden away like that in the hassock?"

"I can't quite figure that out."

"How do you know it's a 'she'?" asked Fargo.

"They all are. Like the dragons. Only this type lays eggs."

The fuzzy green creature got as far as Jeff and stood on her hind legs to sniff him. He put out his hand and let her sniff that, too. She didn't bite, but bumped her head under his palm as if she wanted him to stroke her. Automatically, he did so, thinking that she acted just like a cat, even if she didn't feel like one. She felt both soft and bristly, a combination that Jeff couldn't find words to describe.

"I always wanted a cat," he said.

Under his hand, the creature began to change-the snout receding, the ears and tail lengthening, the fangs disappearing. "Meow!" it said softly.

"It is a cat," said Fargo. "Come here, kitty!"

The creature ran to Fargo.

"Nice kitty," he said as he stroked her, "Can you be a dog?"

It was even more amazing. She changed her body contours until she looked very much like a dog. "Woof!" she said.

"Now I remember," said Norby. "That's an All-Purpose Pet."

Jeff said, "The Others may not be so bad after all. I like their taste in pets."

"Let's hope she continues to like us, "said Fargo, cuddling the All-Purpose Pet, who now resembled a very green beagle (Fargo had always been partial to beagles). She licked his ear and purred.

"Beagles aren't supposed to purr," said Jeff, somewhat annoyed. He couldn't understand why females seemed to like Fargo best. He was glad he had Norby, who wasn't at all cuddly, but was his robot and never showed any signs of wanting to like anyone else instead.

Fargo said, "Let her purr. I'm going to name her Oola!"

"Why Oola?" Jeff asked.

"Because it seems to fit her," Fargo said.

The All-Purpose Pet pricked up her ears, now long and drooping, and whined a little.

Fargo chucked her under the chin and said, "How about that? Do you like your name-Oola?"

She patted Fargo's face with her paw-more like a cat than a dog-and grinned, with her tongue hanging out.

"See," said Fargo. "It's her name. She admits it."

"You've got a pet that's half beagle and half Cheshire cat," said Jeff, "and she'll probably change to fit everyone's mental wish and you'll never know what you've got." He still felt a bit jealous. "I wonder where the Others got her?"

"Made her, probably," said Norby. "Some day on our travels we'll find the animals the Others took genes from to do the biosynthesis of this one. And don't ask me how I know this!"

"We won't," said Jeff, while Fargo continued to play with Oola. "But I do think, Norby, it's time for you to tell us why you brought us back to Jamya-before we go down there to risk life and limb."

There was a long silence. Finally Norby spoke very softly.

"Because I think it's home," he said. "More and more, I think it's home-my home. and I don't want to be afraid of home."

A cold apprehension gripped Jeff. It had nothing to do with the Mentors. Was Norby going to begin to feel as though he were a Jamyn? Wasn't part of him Terran? Was he going to choose between his two parts and turn his back on Jeff?

"Hey, Norby," Jeff said, sounding as jovial as he could, to conceal his feelings. "Don't get upset. We'll help you discover all about Jamya and you'll find there's nothing to fear."

The trouble was, Jeff thought inwardly, that he had been making entirely too many caustic remarks about Norby's being mixed up.

"The Mentors are after you, Jeff," Norby said. "I don't know why they think they can use you, but I don't think you ought to take the chance. I'd better go down to the planet without you. I can always escape them by moving into hyperspace."

"Oh, no," Jeff said. "You're not getting away from me-I mean, I can't let you take any chances without me. You and I are a team, an inseparable team, now and always. Right, Norby?"

"If I may interrupt this dialog," said Fargo with a grin on his face, "I'd like to point out that I am the senior member of this expedition, so I have to be consulted when decisions are made. I say that we're all going. Together. You don't think, do you, that I'm going to sit here and spend my time wondering what's happening to my little brother and his robot?"