"Okay, so you heard them, saw me, and came to the rescue. Fine. Now, the big question: Why? What is so special about me, Clatclit?" He stood up and made the same strange gesture he'd made the night on Von Braun Street. Alternate pointing to his head, then to me. The "me" part was easy enough, but the other.... I tried a series of likely meanings. "That motion to your head, Clatclit. You mean I'm the head of something, the investigation, for instance?" Negative. "I'm intelligent?" A pause, then the yes-no motion. "You mean I am, but that's the wrong answer. Hmmm. Very tactful of you, Clatclit. You could have given me a no on that one." Clatclit showed a friendly array of deadly-looking teeth. I interpreted this as an evidence of camaraderie, so I just grinned back. "Okay, Clatclit. Let's see. It has nothing to do with my brain power?" A wild light came into his eyes, and he seemed ready to crack out of his glittering pelt, so agitated did he become. Apparently, I'd hit on something, but he didn't know what sort of signal to make. "I'm getting warm?" I said. Clatclit stared, and I realized that, even knowing and understanding colloquial English, he might still have missed a few of the slangier expressions. "That is," I said, "I'm close to the answer?" Nod. "Something to do with brain power?" Vigorous nod. "Mine?" Negative. "Baxter's?" Negative. "Anyone's?" I got the yes-no and a climactic shrug. Clatclit was apparently stuck for a response. I tried to figure it out. Brain power, but not mine, not really anyone's, and yet, in a way, someone's. Then I jumped up and faced him, elated. "The Brain! The composite brain of International Cybernetics!" Clatclit emitted something that sounded very much like a sigh of relief, and nodded. I thought back to his head-then-me gesture. "Then you mean I was rescued because I was the man chosen by the Brain?" Three brisk nods. Now I was really confused. I shook my head at Clatclit, and said, "I give up, friend. I'm out of questions you can answer." He gave me a curious look, an expectant look. "The only question I can think of is 'Why should Mars be interested in me just because I was selected by the Brain back on Earth?' And that's a tough one to do in pantomime." Clatclit rose up proudly on tiptoe, as if stubbornly denying the slur I'd cast on his miming abilities. He looked hurt, and I felt like a crumb. "Okay, friend. Try. But I don't guarantee I'll get it." Clatclit stood a moment in thought, then pointed upward. "Up? Out? Above?" I said. All received negatives. "It's no use, Clatclit, I can't--Oh, all right, once more. Uh ... away up?" Nod. "Earth?" I said, excitedly. Nod. "Well, what about it?" I said. Clatclit pointed up to Earth, then to me, and shook his head. Then he pointed down, to Mars, I guessed by association, and to me again. This time he nodded. "Earth-me-no. Mars-me-yes," I said mechanically. "Earth-no-_what_?" Talon to head.