The Aliens

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The Aliens Page 6

by Murray Leinster

into a crazy right, have our drive melt to scrap, getcrazily welded to a Plumie ship, and then for both of us to fry together!We don't need anything more than that!"

  Diane's voice came on the speaker:

  "_Sir, the last radar fixes on the planets in range give us a coursedirectly toward the sun. I'll repeat the observations._"

  The skipper growled. Taine thrust himself forward. He snarled:

  "Why doesn't this Plumie take off its helmet? It lands on oxygen planets!Does it think it's too good to breathe our air?"

  Baird caught the Plumie's eye. He made a gesture suggesting the removalof the space helmet. The Plumie gestured, in return, to a tiny vent inthe suit. He opened something and gas whistled out. He cut it off. Thequestion of why he did not open or remove his helmet was answered. Theatmosphere he breathed would not do men any good, nor would theirs do himany good, either. Taine said suspiciously:

  "How do we know he's breathing the stuff he let out then? This creatureisn't human! It's got no right to attack humans! Now it's trying to trickus!" His voice changed to a snarl. "We'd better wring its neck! Teach itskind a lesson--"

  The skipper roared at him.

  "Be quiet! Our ship is a wreck! We have to consider the facts! We andthese Plumies are in a fix together, and we have to get out of it beforewe start to teach anybody anything!" He glared at Taine. Then he saidheavily: "Mr. Baird, you seem to notice things. Take this Plumie over theship. Show him our drive melted down, so he'll realize we can't possiblytow his ship into an orbit. He knows that we're armed, and that we can'thandle our war heads at this range! So we can't fool each other. We mightas well be frank. But you will take full note of his reactions, Mr.Baird!"

  * * * * *

  Baird advanced, and the skipper made a gesture. The Plumie regarded Bairdwith interested eyes. And Baird led the way for a tour of the _Niccola_.It was confusing even to him, with right hand converted to up and lefthand to down, and sidewise now almost vertical. On the way the Plumiemade more clear, flutelike sounds, and more gestures. Baird answered.

  "Our gravity pull was that way," he explained, "and things fell so fast."

  He grasped a handrail and demonstrated the speed with which things fellin normal ship-gravity. He used a pocket communicator for the fallingweight. It was singularly easy to say some things, even highly technicalones, because they'd be what the Plumie would want to know. But quitecommonplace things would be very difficulty to convey.

  Diane's voice came out of the communicator.

  "_There are no novelties outside_," she said quietly. "_It looks likethis is the only Plumie ship anywhere around. It could have beenexploring, like us. Maybe it was looking for the people who put upSpace-Survey markers._"

  "Maybe," agreed Baird, using the communicator. "Is that stuff aboutfalling into the sun correct?"

  "_It seems so_," said Diane composedly. "_I'm checking again. So far, thebest course I can get means we graze the sun's photosphere in fourteendays six hours, allowing for acceleration by the sun's gravity._"

  "And you and I," said Baird wryly, "have been acting as professionalassociates only, when--"

  "_Don't say it!_" said Diane shakily. "_It's terrible!_"

  He put the communicator back in his pocket. The Plumie had watched him.He had a peculiarly gallant air, this small figure in golden space armorwith its high-crested helmet.

  They reached the engine room. And there was the giant drive shaft of the_Niccola_, once wrapped with yard-thick coils which could induce anincredible density of magnetic flux in the metal. Even the returnmagnetic field, through the ship's cobalt-steel hull, was many timeshigher than saturation. Now the coils were sagging: mostly melted. Therewere places where re-solidified metal smoked noisomely againstnonmetallic floor or wall-covering. Engineers labored doggedly in thetrivial gravity to clean up the mess.

  "It's past repair," said Baird, to the ship's first engineer.

  "It's junk," said that individual dourly. "Give us six months and a placeto set up a wire-drawing mill and an insulator synthesizer, and we couldrebuild it. But nothing less will be any good."

  The Plumie stared at the drive. He examined the shaft from every angle.He inspected the melted, and partly-melted, and merely burned-outsections of the drive coils. He was plainly unable to understand in anyfashion the principle of the magnetronic drive. Baird was tempted to tryto explain, because there was surely no secret about a ship drive, but hecould imagine no diagrams or gestures which would convey the theory ofwhat happened in cobalt-steel when it was magnetized beyond one hundredthousand Gauss' flux-density. And without that theory one simply couldn'texplain a magnetronic drive.

  They left the engine room. They visited the rocket batteries. Thegenerator room was burned out, like the drive, by the inconceivablelightning bolt which had passed between the ships on contact. The Plumiewas again puzzled. Baird made it clear that the generator-room suppliedelectric current for the ship's normal lighting-system and services. ThePlumie could grasp that idea. They examined the crew's quarters, and themess room, and the Plumie walked confidently among the members of thehuman crew, who a little while since had tried so painstakingly todestroy his vessel. He made a good impression.

  "These little guys," said a crewman to Baird, admiringly, "they gotsomething. They can handle a ship! I bet they could almost make that shipof theirs play checkers!"

  "Close to it," agreed Baird. He realized something. He pulled thecommunicator from his pocket. "Diane! Contact the skipper. He wantedobservations. Here's one. This Plumie acts like soldiers used to act inancient days--when they wore armor. And we have the same reaction! Theywill fight like the devil, but during a truce they'll be friendly,admiring each other as scrappers, but ready to fight as hard as ever whenthe truce is over. We have the same reaction! Tell the skipper I've anidea that it's a part of their civilization--maybe it's a necessary partof any civilization! Tell him I guess that there may be necessarilyparallel evolution of attitudes, among rational races, as there areparallel evolutions of eyes and legs and wings and fins among all animalseverywhere! If I'm right, somebody from this ship will be invited to tourthe Plumie! It's only a guess, but tell him!"

  "_Immediately_," said Diane.

  * * * * *

  The Plumie followed gallantly as Baird made a steep climb up what oncewas the floor of a corridor. Then Taine stepped out before them. His eyesburned.

  "Giving him a clear picture, eh?" he rasped. "Letting him spy outeverything?"

  Baird pressed the communicator call for the radar room and said coldly:

  "I'm obeying orders. Look, Taine! You were picked for your job becauseyou were a xenophobe. It helps in your proper functioning. But thisPlumie is here under a flag of truce--"

  "Flag of truce!" snarled Taine. "It's vermin! It's not human! I'll--"

  "If you move one inch nearer him," said Baird gently, "just one inch--"

  The skipper's voice bellowed through the general call speakers all overthe ship:

  "_Mr. Taine! You will go to your quarters, under arrest! Mr. Baird, burnhim down if he hesitates!_"

  Then there was a rushing, and scrambling figures appeared and were allabout. They were members of the _Niccola's_ crew, sent by the skipper.They regarded the Plumie with detachment, but Taine with a waryexpectancy. Taine turned purple with fury. He shouted. He raged. Hecalled Baird and the others Plumie-lovers and vermin-worshipers. Heshouted foulnesses at them. But he did not attack.

  When, still shouting, he went away, Baird said apologetically to thePlumie:

  "He's a xenophobe. He has a pathological hatred of strangers--even ofstrangeness. We have him on board because--"

  Then he stopped. The Plumie wouldn't understand, of course. But his eyestook on a curious look. It was almost as if, looking at Baird, theytwinkled.

  Baird took him back to the skipper.

  "He's got the picture, sir," he reported.

  The Plumie pulled out his sketch plate. He drew o
n it. He offered it. Theskipper said heavily:

  "You guessed right, Mr. Baird. He suggests that someone from this ship goon board the Plumie vessel. He's drawn two pressure-suited figures goingin their air lock. One's larger than the other. Will you go?"

  "Naturally!" said Baird. Then he added thoughtfully: "But I'd bettercarry a portable scanner, sir. It should work perfectly well through abronze hull, sir."

  The skipper nodded and began to sketch a diagram which would amount to anacceptance of the Plumie's invitation.

  This was at 07 hours 40 minutes

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