Kane was down first, setting the Buster neatly into the middle of a patch of green that, from the air at least, looked perfectly smooth. Saul looked up briefly from his controls to Grimes, complaining. "The bastard's picked the best place . . . ."
"To the west of him . . . "Grimes said. "Almost on the river bank . . . . It doesn't look too bad."
"It'll have to do, Captain," murmured the first lieutenant resignedly.
It had to do—and, as Grimes had said, it wasn't too bad.
Only one recoil cylinder in the tripedal landing gear was burst when Seeker touched the ground, and there was no other damage.
7
This was not the occasion for full dress uniforms, with fore-and-aft hat, decorations, ceremonial sword and all the other trimmings. This was an occasion for comfortable shorts-and-shirt, with heavy boots and functional sidearms.
So attired, Grimes marched down Seeker's ramp, followed by Captain Philby, the Marine officer, and a squad of his space soldiers. Maggie Lazenby and the other scientists had wished to accompany him, but he had issued strict orders that nobody excepting himself and the Marines was to leave the ship until such time as the situation had been clarified. And this clarification depended upon the local inhabitants as well as upon Drongo Kane. Meanwhile, Grimes had said, no foolish risks were to be taken.
As he marched toward the towering hulk of Southerly Buster he regretted his decision to land to the west of that ship; he had put himself at a disadvantage. The light of the still-low sun was blinding, making it difficult for his men and him to avoid the lavish scattering of quartzite boulders that protruded through the short, coarse grass. And it made it impossible to see if Drongo Kane had any weapons aimed at him and his party. Probably he had—but Seeker's main armament was trained upon Kane's ship and ready to blow her off the face of the planet at the slightest provocation.
It was a little better once he and the Marines were in the shadow of the other ship. Grimes's eyes adjusted themselves and he stared upward at the blunt, metallic spire as he walked toward it. Defensively armed! he thought scornfully. Those two famous quick-firing cannon reported by the Bug Queen were merely an addition to what the Buster already had. Even so, in terms of laser and missiles, Seeker had the edge on her.
Southerly Buster's ramp was down. At the foot of it an officer was standing, a skeletal figure attired in gray coveralls with shoulder-boards carrying first mate's braid. The man was capless, and bald, and the wrinkled skin of his face was yellow, almost matching the long teeth that he showed when he smiled at the men from Seeker.
"Commander Grimes?" he asked in an overly ingratiating voice.
"Mr. Dreebly?" countered Grimes.
"Aloysius Dreebly, sir, at your service."
And so this, thought Grimes, was Aloysius Dreebly. Small wonder that Myra Bracegirdle, Southerly Buster's PCO, hated him. He matched his name—as people with ugly names so very often do. They, as it were, grow to fit the labels that misguided parents bestow upon them at birth. And this Dreebly, Grimes continued thinking, I wouldn't trust him behind me. He'd either kiss my arse or stab me in the back—or both.
"And will you come aboard, Commander? Captain Kane is waiting for you."
"Certainly, Mr. Dreebly. Lead the way, please."
"Oh, sir, I'm afraid I cannot allow these other men aboard the ship . . . ."
"And I'm afraid that I can't board unless I have an escort of my own people. Captain Philby!"
"Sir!"
The young Marine officer had his pistol out, pointing at Dreebly. His sergeant and the six privates held their rifles at the ready.
"But, sir . . . what are you thinking of? This is piracy!"
"Hardly, Mr. Dreebly. All the way from our ship to yours we were tracked by the muzzle of one of your quick-firers. Surely you will allow us to show our teeth."
"Let the bastards aboard, Dreebly!" boomed Kane's voice from a loudspeaker. "But put your guns away first, Commander. I don't expect my guests to check in their pocket artillery at the door—but, on the other hand, I take a dim view if it's waved in my face."
At a word from Grimes Philby reholstered his pistol, the Marines slung their machine rifles. Dreebly shambled up the ramp to the after airlock, followed by the party from Seeker. Inside the compartment, Grimes looked about him curiously. He had been expecting something squalid—but, at first glance at least, this seemed to be a reasonably well-kept ship. There was a distinct absence of Survey Service spit-and-polish—but such is found only in vessels where there is a superfluity of ratings to do the spitting and polishing. There was shabbiness—but everything looked to be in excellent working order.
The elevator from the stern to the control room would accommodate only four men. Grimes decided to take Philby and one private with him, told the captain to tell his sergeant and the remaining Marines to stand guard in the airlock and at the foot of the ramp. (The Marines were apt to sulk if anybody but one of their own officers gave them a direct order.) Dreebly led the way into the cage and, as soon as the others were standing there with him, pressed a button.
She was quite a hunk of ship, this Southerly Buster, thought Grimes, as they slid rapidly upward, deck after deck. She had probably started life as an Interstellar Transport Commission's Gamma Class cargo liner but, under successive ownership, had been modified and remodified many times. A vessel this size, even with a minimal crew, would be expensive to run. Whatever Kane's activities were, they must show a profit.
The cage came to a gentle halt. "This way, please, gentlemen," said Dreebly. He led the way into a short alleyway, to a door with a sign, captain, written above it. The door opened, admitting them into a spacious day cabin. Drongo Kane rose from an easy chair to greet them, but did not offer to shake hands.
He was as tall as his lanky bean pole of a mate, but there was a little more flesh on his bones. He moved with a decisive sort of grace, like an efficient hunting animal. He wasted no time on courtesies.
"Well, Commander Grimes?" he demanded.
"Captain Kane, I thought that we might combine forces . . . ."
"Did you, now? You've very kindly seen me down to the surface in one piece—not that I needed you—an' now you can go and play soldiers off by yourself, somewhere."
Grimes's prominent ears flamed. He was aware that Captain Philby and the Marine were looking at him, were thinking, What's the old man going to say (or do) now? Well, what was the old man (Grimes) going to say (or do) now?
He said, "I represent the Federation, Captain."
"An' this planet, Commander, is not a Federated World."
"Yet," said Grimes.
"If ever," said Kane.
"I was sent here by the Federation . . ." Grimes began again.
"To claim this planet—possibly against the wishes of its people?"
"To conduct a survey."
"Then conduct your survey. I'm not stoppin' you."
"But I'm responsible for your safety, and that of your ship, Captain. You're a citizen of Austral, a Federated World, and your vessel's port of registry is Port Southern, on that planet."
"I don't need any snotty nosed Space Scouts to see me across the road."
"Maybe you don't, Captain Kane—but you're here, and I'm here, and I am obliged to carry out my duties to the best of my ability."
"Cor stiffen the bleedin' crows!" swore Kane disgustedly. Then, to somebody who had come in silently and was standing behind Grimes, "Yes, Myra?"
Grimes turned. So this was the Myra Bracegirdle of whom Hayakawa had talked. She was a tall girl, but thin rather than slender (this Southerly Buster must be a poor feeding ship), her face with its too prominent bones, too wide mouth and too big, dark eyes framed by silky blonde hair.
She said, "A word with you, Captain. Alone."
"Oh, don't worry about the Space Scouts, Myra. They're here to look after us. We have no secrets from them."
"They are on the way here, Captain. They saw the ships land. They have heard about spaceship
s, of course, but have never seen one . . . ."
And what about Corgi? Grimes asked himself. But she could have landed on the other side of the world from here.
He said, "Captain Kane, do you mind if I call my ship?"
"Go ahead, Commander. This is Liberty Hall; you can spit on the mat and call the cat a bastard."
But as Grimes was raising his wrist transceiver to his mouth it buzzed sharply, then Saul's voice issued from the little instrument. "First lieutenant here, Captain. Mr. Hayakawa reports that parties of natives are approaching the landing site from both villages."
"I'll be right back," said Grimes.
"Don't let me keep you," said Kane. "Mr. Dreebly, please show these gentlemen off the premises."
"Oh, Captain," Grimes said, pausing in the doorway, "I shall take a very dim view if you act in a hostile manner toward the natives."
"And what if they act in a hostile manner toward me?"
"That," said Grimes, "will be different."
8
Grimes did not hurry back to his own ship, neither did he dawdle. He would have liked to have hurried, but was aware that Kane would be watching him. He walked at a moderately brisk pace, with Philby at his side and the other Marines marching after them.
"Sir," asked Philby, "do you think they'll be hostile?"
"Corgi's crew didn't find them so, Captain Philby. But she landed on another part of the planet, among different people. We'll just have to play it by ear . . . ."
"A show of force . . ." murmured the young officer, as though he were looking forward to it.
And he was, thought Grimes. He was. He glanced at Philby's face—young, unlined, features, save for the strong chin, indeterminate. A Marine Corps recruiting poster face . . . . There was no vice in it—neither was there any sensitivity, or imagination. It was the face of a man who could have written those famous lines—and without ironical intention: Whatever happens, we have got The Maxim gun—and they have not.
"Don't forget," said Grimes, "that this is their world, and that we're interlopers."
"Yes, sir, but we're civilized. Aren't we?"
"Mphm."
"And these people, out of the mainstream for so long, need to be taught the Federation's way of life . . . ."
Was Philby joking? No, Grimes decided, he was not. He said mildly, "The Federation's way of life as exemplified by whom? By the crew of Seeker? By Captain Drongo Kane and his crew? Or by Captain Danzellan and Corgi's or Schnauzer's people? Kane and Danzellan are Federation citizens, just as we are."
"Yes, sir. I suppose so. But . . . "
"But we have the superior fire power. Not all that superior. From what we saw aboard Southerly Buster I'd say she packs the wallop of a young battleship. And I should imagine that Schnauzer could show her teeth if she had to."
"What are your orders, sir?" asked Philby stiffly, obviously regretting having initiated the conversation.
"Just keep handy while I meet the natives. Better call another half dozen of your men down. Have your weapons ready—but not too obviously."
"With your permission, sir." Philby raised his wrist transceiver to his mouth. "Mr. Saul? Captain Philby here. Would you mind telling Corporal Smithers to detail six men for EVA? Yes, number three battle equipment. Over."
Then Grimes gave his orders."Mr. Saul, Captain here. Do as Captain Philby says. And ask Dr. Lazenby if she' ll join me at the after airlock. Yes. At once. All other officers and all ratings, with the exception of the six Marines, to remain on board. Yes, main and secondary armament to remain in a condition of readiness."
He heard the sergeant, who was a pace or two behind him, whisper something to one of the Marines about a show of force. He smiled to himself. He was not showing the force at his disposal—but it was nice to know that it was handy.
He beckoned Maggie down from the open airlock door. She walked gracefully down the ramp, despite the fact that she was hung around with all manner of equipment—cameras, recorders, even a sketch block and stylus.
She said, "We've had a good look at them through the control room telescope and binoculars. They seem to be human . . . ."
"Are they armed?"
"Some are carrying spears, and a few have longbows . . . ."
The additional Marines clattered down the ramp. Grimes looked at the automatic weapons they carried and hoped that they would not be used. He was pleased to see that each man had a couple of sleep gas grenades at his belt, and that one of them was carrying extra respirators; these he handed out to Grimes, Philby and to the other members of the party that had gone to Southerly Buster.
There was activity just by the boarding ramp of that ship, too. Grimes borrowed Maggie's binoculars, saw that Kane, Dreebly and three more men had come outside and that a folding table had been set up. The wares spread upon it glittered in the strong sunlight. Trade goods, Grimes decided. Bright, pretty baubles . . . . And did he hope to buy a territory, a continent, a planet, even, for a string of glass beads? Why not? Things as strange had happened in Man's long history.
The first of the party of natives, that from the north, was now in sight from ground level. They moved with catlike smoothness over the grass, threading their way around the outcropping boulders . There were twenty of them—ten males and ten females. Ten men and ten women, Grimes corrected himself. Six men, carrying long spears, were in the lead, advancing in open order. Then came the women, eight of whom carried bows and who had quivers of arrows slung over their shoulders. This appeared to be their only clothing. The remaining four men brought up the rear.
Humans, thought Grimes, studying them through Maggie's glasses. Exceptionally handsome humans. That all of them were unclothed was no indication of their cultural level—naturism was the rule rather than the exception on several highly civilized planets, such as Arcadia. Their skins varied in color from pale gold to a dark brown, the hair of their heads and their body hair—which was normally distributed—was of a variety of colors, black, white, gray, brown, a coppery gold . . . . Grimes focused his attention on a girl. The short hair of her head was parti-colored, stripes of darker and lighter gray alternating. The effect was odd, but not unpleasing. He grunted. There was something odd about her eyes, too. But this offshoot of humanity, cut off from the main stem for generations, must have tended to grow apart from the generality of humankind.
The natives came to a halt by Southerly Buster's ramp. The men stood aside to let two of the women, the two who carried no weapons, advance slowly to where Drongo Kane was standing by his table of trade goods. These two women were a little taller, a little larger than their companions, but no less graceful. They wore an air of maturity, but they were no less beautiful. They were talking to Kane and he seemed to be having no trouble understanding them, and they seemed to be having no trouble in understanding him.
"Here they come, sir," said Philby. "Our lot."
Grimes lowered the glasses, turned to face the visitors. This was a smaller party, only six people. Once again there was an equal division of the sexes.
Their leader, flanked by a spearman on either side of her, advanced slowly to where Grimes, with Maggie Lazenby beside him, was standing. Grimes saluted with a flourish—and a part of his mind stood back and laughed wryly at his according this courtesy to a naked savage. But a savage she was not. Savages tend to be dirty, unkempt; she was fastidiously clean. Her short hair was snowy, gleaming white, her lustrous skin was brown, the lips of her generous mouth a red that seemed natural rather than the result of applied cosmetics. The overall effect was definitely erotic. Grimes heard one of the Marines whistle, heard another whisper, "Buy that one for me, Daddy . . . . "He could not blame either of them—but felt definitely censorious when Maggie murmured, "And you can buy either—or both—of her boyfriends for me . . . ."
The two men were tall. Both were golden skinned; one had orange-colored hair, the other was black-haired. Of their essential maleness there was no doubt. Each, however, was built more on the lines of an Apollo
than a Hercules, and each moved with a fluid grace as pronounced as that with which the woman walked.
To her, not at all reluctantly, Grimes returned his attention. He knew that the slow inspection that he was making was not mannerly, but he could not help himself. He told himself that it was his duty, as captain of a survey ship, to make such an inspection. Her eyes, he saw, were a peculiar greenish-yellow, and the tips of her ears were pointed. Her cheekbones were prominent, more so than the firm chin. His regard shifted slowly downward. Beneath each full but firm breast there was a rudimentary nipple. But she was human, human—even though the bare feet, which should have been long and slender, were oddly chubby.
The Inheritors Page 4