Birthright

“I know,” said Darlinski. “But is there any possibility that he might pass out instead?”

“I doubt it. Why?”

“What if you quadrupled it—got it up to seventy-six percent, or even a little bit higher?” “It's been done many times in emergency cases.” “Does it ever knock them out?”

“Once in a while. Rarely, though. What are you getting at?” “One final question and I'll tell you.” “Ask away,” said Jennings.

“What if you stuck a man into a ninety percent oxygen atmosphere” “No problem,” came the quick reply.

“You didn't let me finish,” said Darlinski. “What if you put him there and left him there for a week?” “It's never been done to my knowledge. It'd probably burn out the brain and the lungs, in that order.... Wait a minute! Are you trying to tell me that...” “...That our ambassador breathes a four percent oxygen compound, or less, and that she's been living in our equivalent of a ninety percent oxygen tent since she arrived. At first it was probably invigorating, perhaps even intoxicating. But ultimately it hit her, hard, and she's been in a state of collapse ever since.” “Then you've solved it!” exclaimed Jennings. “Pretty simple at that, wasn't it?” “I haven't solved it at all,” said Darlinski. “I'd wager that she hasn't got enough brainpower left to rattle around in a thimble. Totally uncoordinated, eyes can't focus, unaware of surroundings, drooling slightly out of her two ingestion orifices. It's my opinion that right now she ranks considerably lower than a potted plant on whatever scale they use to measure intelligence. She may be cured, but she's as nonfunctional as a rock.”

“If it'll make you feel any better, she was probably like that within an hour of her collapse,” said Jennings.

“Makes me feel great,” said Darlinski, cutting the communication. The idea was rounding out, but he still had to check with Hammett. He explained the entire situation to him, then waited while Hammett checked with the government. “Nice job,” said Hammett an hour later, “but the Pnathians aren't buying. First, they think we're lying to them, and second, they think that if we're telling the truth we're responsible for what happened to her. So we came close, but no cigar. The truce ends in two days, time, so if you can't come up with a way to cure a mental vegetable by then...” His voice trailed off. “Let me ask you one question,” said Darlinski.