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dichotomy.’
    ‘So you can read my mind,’ Crompton said, and looked at the person with attention. He saw a fresh-faced young man with a crew cut, wearing a gray sweater and brown slacks and white buckskin shoes.
    ‘Yes, I can, when I put my mind to it.’
    ‘That is an invasion of my privacy,’ Crompton declared.
    ‘What makes you think so? When you broadcast words, you expect anyone around to hear. Why not when you broadcast thoughts?’
    ‘I want to select the thoughts I broadcast,’ Crompton said.
    ‘Do you? What a curious attitude. One thought is very much like another, you know. They’re just a sort of vibration and there’s nothing personal about them. Creatures have been broadcasting words and thoughts at each other for a long time now, and no one is much better or worse for it.’
    ‘Aren’t you sort of young to be spouting all of this deep stuff?’ Crompton asked.
    ‘I am not quite a million years old,’ the person replied. ‘On a galactic scale, that’s pretty young. Still, I’ve seen a thing or two in my time.’
    ‘I don’t find that a very amusing joke,’ Crompton said.
    ‘I am an Aaian,’ the young man said. ‘I always tell the truth, even when I lie. And all Aaian jokes are in bad taste because we’re too old to bother being subtle. I see that some proof is called for.’
    ‘I should think so,’ Crompton said.
    ‘Then dig this.’ The fresh-faced youth reached up and touched his nose. Immediately his face changed to the deeply furrowed mask of an old man. His clothing changed to a tattered gray bathrobe, and his voice rose to a squeaky soprano as he said, ‘One good metamorphosis is worth a million words.’
    ‘Please don’t do that,’ Crompton said, shaken.
    The old man changed back into the fresh-faced youth. ‘Want to see some more demonstrations of my superhuman abilities?’
    ‘I’d rather not,’ Crompton said, ‘I believe you. Just give me a little time to adjust.’
    ‘Well, really, Crompton,’ the Aaian said, ‘if you want to survive out here you’re going to have to get on the ball. Some peculiar things happen out beyond Earth, and there’s no time for standing around being astonished. Your attitude must be, Nu , so strange things happen, so what else is new? Otherwise you’re going to malrespond when something really tricky comes along.’
    Crompton took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He said, ‘All right, so you’re an Aaian and you’re a million years old and you have superhuman powers. So what else is new?’
    That’s much better. What’s new? Well, here you are on a starship and your seatmate turns out to be a member of the race to whose planet you are going. Obviously I know a lot about you. Obviously I’ve got plans of some sort for you. Obviously you and I are going to have to come to terms with each other.’
    Crompton nodded. ‘Obviously. And what else is new?’
    ‘Don’t be a wise guy,’ the Aaian said. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know what this is all about?’
    ‘I’m waiting for you to tell me.’
    ‘Crompton, we Aaians are the oldest intelligent race in the galaxy. We’re also the smartest. We are immortal, more or less. We’ve seen it all come down the pike. Long ago we conquered this island universe, but we found it wasn’t much good for laughs so we gave it back. There’s nothing left for us to do, nothing meaningful in our terms. So we do nothing but play our Game.’
    ‘I’ve heard about the Aaian Game,’ Crompton said. ‘But nobody seems to know much about it.’
    ‘That’s not because we’re secretive,’ the Aaian said. ‘It’s simply that our Game cannot be subsumed under a static description. It can’t really be described at all because it is changing constantly, according to rules that we make up as we go along.’
    ‘Is that really all you can find to do?’ Crompton asked.
    The Aaian shrugged. ‘Ancient and accomplished races have their peculiar problems, Crompton. I mean, after perfect