“Oh.” titudes, yes.” “He’ll accept us at a certain re- “He’s worried that lationship. “Can we negotiate? What wemight be is this relationship—I don’t get it—(con-more powerful. If he thinks so cept of slave)” “Get off my he’ll be back off his ship and run.” lap, cat.” This ship, “Chang says we can scare off outpower the Wlyll’n?” “Bryllw.” “Dammit, cat!” With what? His ship is a killer, “What’s a and it’s fast. We can’t beat them.” “Chang’s slave?” talking.” “Chang says, run bluff, like poker.” “Huh?” “Ouch!” “What’s poker?” “What’s a slave?” “Why ouch?”
“Non-telepathic card game, depends on “Cat clawed not knowing what cards are in other’s me.” possession.
Cards are strength. “A slave is one who takes Bet on outcome, pretend strong cards, your orders. Must frighten opponent so he take them. “Why take orders if will concede without struggle you don’t agree with them?” to test you. That’s bluff.” “Force. (image of head coming “But if he knows you might bluff?” off.) That’s why.” “Too much to lose if he “Rights?” “No rights. Slave contests and you’re not bluffing. sidered inferior species.” He doesn’t dare chance it.”
“Like a pet?” “No.”
“Repeat that for Chang!”
“But he told me.” “Inferior subservient species.” “Like the cat?”
“What’s so (vague obscenity) subservient about the cat?”
“I’ve got an idea!”]
* * * *
Some five hours after video contact had been established, Bryllw emerged from the schooling chamber with a rough knowledge of Terran, and the information that the ship he was facing was the patrolship Vengeance of the Terran Federation Frontier Guard, her captain was named Chang, and he was most grateful to the Nll’ni for taking on the task of linguistics involved in establishing contact.
Bryllw smiled a slow, murderous smile. Delightfully vivid in his memory were the pictures of all the idiotic actions the Terrans had performed in passing across key words: throwing balls in the air, smiling, frowning, gnashing their teeth, holding up one, two, three, four fingers.... These clowns should be a pushover.
He stepped to the video and looked into the face of the Terran framed in it. He began to speak, phrasing his thoughts carefully in the strange tongue. “I iss Bryllw, caftan ship here. Wooe desthire thrhade wiss you. Wooe seeging egtension Nll’ni thrhade rhoutes. Arr’ you ooant thrhade? Much bhenefitus ourh people—yourhus aand minuh. Thrhade,” he concluded, in a carefully memorized sentence “iss life blood of induthry.”
Chang assumed his blandest expression, and his voice rolled out of the speaker unctuously. “As Frontier Guards we are, of course, entrusted with the safety and security of the peaceful citizens of our Federation. However, in view of the objective circumstances, and taking into account historical factors such as the Corn Laws, the assassination of Boris Stambouli and the relative success of the Wafd, it seems to us upon viewing the situation dialectically,” the Nll’ni computer whirred, sending out whole lines of random symbols. “Viewing the situation dialectically, I say, it would seem that in the light of Thomas Jefferson’s views on free trade it is incumbent upon us to place both shoulders on the ground, put our feet to the wheel, and consider the matter more intensively—with diligence, so to speak. If you would care to send a delegation on board our ship to further identify yourselves, we will be pleased to engage in discussion upon the matter previously alluded to. Otherwise,” Li paused, “We shall be forced, much to our sorrow, to destroy you.”
As soon as the screen went blank Bryllw turned to the officer in charge of linguistics. “Well,” he roared, “what did he say?”
“There appears to be some difficulty in translation, Your Extreme Sentience, but it would appear that we are invited to send a delegation on board their ship to negotiate.”
“Excellent!” Bryllw purred, and stalked off, leaving the linguist staring hopelessly at the tape in his hand.
By the time Bryllw’s lifeboat reached the side of the Vengeance/Ataturk, bearing the Strategic Captain and five others, including Third Officer Llyllw, that officer had almost succeeded in banishing the feeling of being watched. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t been watched for hours, since he was no longer important. It was Strategic Captain Bryllw who now struggled to conceal his uneasiness...He attributed it to the weird appearance of these skinny hairless things called Terrans. And, after all, this was his first experience of bringing a new species to order, though he doubted if any of the crew realized it.... A man could expect to be a little nervous about something like this, couldn’t he? His mind wandered back to a campaign he had just missed when he was a Second Officer.... A race of primitive chlorine-breathers inhabiting the lone planet of a hot new sun. The planet was untenable to Nll’ni and its people incapable of accepting Order, so they had been exterminated to prevent any possibility that they might upset the Order of the Universe. The planet had been wiped clean of all life to prevent re-evolution and a small amount of mining activity had been commenced. It had been an arduous and expensive job, but it would have been highly disorderly to leave it undone.
Aboard the Ataturk, Tewazi reeled with dizziness and nausea, and dropped the Handbook of Comparative Sociology...
[“Diu!”
“Uggh...Did you read Bryllw just then?”
“No, what ...oh he ...better tell Chang.” “I will.”
Quiet thought came in from Hahn: “Maybe we ought to blow up our ship at that. Tell Chang to make the arrangements or... Candleman, you in the engine room? Better rig something up just in case. Don’t want these people to find Earth.”
“An entire species, a whole planet...” “I don’t
think I want to read Bryllw
any more.”
Hahn again: “Stay clear, man...We have to out-think him.”
“Chang says that if we suicide, we’ll have to take them with us. We were making a pretty standard orbit out from the system when they saw us. All they have to do is check the records and trace our orbit back.”
“Bryllw hasn’t thought of that.” “He will. And don’t
forget that computer.”
“Stick by the plan.”]
* * * *
Bryllw came into the Terran spaceship somewhat ruffled from the manhandling he had received in the airlock. He had been briskly and expressionlessly searched, and both his hidden weapons and his camera had been taken from him. The searchers had not been impolite, but neither had they been respectful: They had handled him like a piece of furniture.
“Humble,” he muttered to himself in Nll’ni. “Be humble, trader.” He surveyed the scene before him with widened eyes, trying to look like a recruit with his side-fangs not grown yet. The Terrans looked as bad as they had over the video, if not somewhat worse: Obscenely smooth and hairless, their skins in various shades of light and dark brown. They looked scrawny and frail. It would probably be easy to force information out of one of them: He could be broken in the hands.
[Ugh!” “Diu!” (Hahn)—”Give me a schlager, and I’ll show that big ape who can be broken in the hands... second thought I can do it with my hands.” “Cut it, man, you’re as bad as he is.” “You’re too modern, Zern, don’t understand combat.”]
They wore almost no cloth to cover their hairlessness—a harness around the loins and some with a large green ornament on the shoulder. Of the six Terrans gathered to greet him, four had the green ornaments—the largest just a foot high...maybe the size indicated authority and could indicate which of the Terrans facing him were of importance.
While he stared at an ornament it moved, said a few words in Terran, spread large green wings and flew out of the room. Bryllw started. There had been nothing said about any green flying creatures while he was learning the language.
One of the Terrans stepped forward. “I am Chang. Coordinator today.”
Bryllw paused to consider the strange title, then dismissed it and proceeded with his speech. �
��I iss Bryllw. You me talk viewscthreen. I iss vissneth manazherh andh arrithmetithian of thrhade ship WIlyll’n.” He spoke briskly, convinced that he was speaking the language perfectly. “Ve thrhade. I tell rhulerhserhvantth mink. Ve sendh ships worhldh yourh. Brhing many goodh thingth. You take. What havh nont we havh. Ve havh nont you havh. Show me star map yourh planet. Wherh you people planet? Ve send merschant ship.”
It was a good thing Chang did not have to understand him. Chang stepped forward trying to look formal. He took a long deep breath, rounded his voice, and began. “We of the Federation always welcome contact with new species. We hope for amicable relations, and hope that amicable relations can ultimately, or even immediately blossom into understanding and interdependence. In the record of history this historic meeting may be recorded as truly historic and might even mark the first step in a long history of friendship and friendly relations between our species and even of brotherhood and federation.”
Bryllw’s attention wandered. He had not fully understood all that was being said, but it sounded like the usual formal preliminaries.
“You forgif smaller self, Authority, what iss Federation.”
“Ah—Federation is many planets mutually helping.”
Chang resumed the speech and Bryllw’s attention wandered again. The claim to be many planets could be a standard bluff intended to scare him off, or it could be true. He noted with satisfaction that the interior of the ship looked primitive and unarmored, with few safety devices. If this ship were the best frontier guard the “federation” could put up, it would be better if they did hold a large number of planets. It would be easy to take them away from such a puny navy as this. The more planets the better.
[“Awk! That’s not the reaction we wanted!” “He knows about bluffs!” “We aren’t scaring him off.”]
Oblivious of trouble, Chang, droned on...
“...And, as I emphasized in our previous conversation, in the light of our reverence for the free trade views of such historical figures as Thomas Jefferson and Al Capone, it would seem inevitable that in the course of history we would be led...”
While the Terran orated on, the other five members of the N11’ni boarding party came through the airlock one by one. They were breathing heavily and their weapons were missing, but they were still a good fighting force. Bryllw wondered if the Terrans were afraid of them. If they were, it would indicate that the Terrans, unless they were arrant cowards, thought of themselves as relatively defenseless and weak.
He tried a feint. Abruptly he coughed in a loud rumble and moved forward in a sudden jerk, then stopped himself with a hand apologetically against his faceplate as if to smother a cough, and stepped back again. It had worked; he had seen what he wanted to know. All the spindly two-legged creatures had flinched or frozen at his sudden motion and roar, and now, stiffened, were making a desperate effort to look nonchalant, and to resume their former attitude of interested listening to their leader’s speech.
Unless they were cowards, that meant that they knew they were inferior to him. Bryllw decided that it might be possible to take the ship from these skinny Terrans with just bare hands and good discipline. Once they had the ship it would be easy to decipher the star charts and find out where its home planets were. However, if he continued on this act of being a meek trader, they might even tell him where the home planets were and save the need of fighting.
“Llyllw,” he mumbled into the tiny intercom mike in his helmet. “Be prepared for action and keep a good watch for their weapons. They must have some, probably trained on us, but I have not seen them. I may try to seize this ship, as soon as I find out what these green flying things are.”
[“Get Taylor to work up some phony hand weapons in a hurry.” “Why not use the ones we took off the gorillas?” “They’d recognize them, and know for sure we don’t have any of our own. You don’t want to wrestle with these characters.” “What did we let them on the ship for?” “To frighten them, man.”]
“Authority,” Llyllw’s voice came nervously over the intercom into Bryllw’s helmet. “One of these green animals is speaking to me privately. I don’t know what it is saying.”
Bryllw looked back and saw Llyllw standing stiff and woodenfaced, with a green creature perched on his shoulder. The creature was staring at him, turning its head to stare with one eye at a time with an air of impolite incredulity.
“Awwwrk!” the creature suddenly screamed in commanding tones. “Tripledeck deal! Tripledeck deal!”
Llyllw went up into the air a foot, and came down even more wooden. The creature spread large green wings and flew off down the passageway. With a great rustle and whirr of wings the others took wing from the Terran’s shoulders, and followed down the passageway until they were out of sight.
“You must excuse the Wraxtax,” Chang said. “Their people have no custom of courtesy to strangers. You don’t have to obey his command. We will explain to him.”
“Who was he, Authority?” asked Bryllw, remembering to be humble. “Is he in command of any power in your great ship?” Who was in charge of this ship? The attitudes of each Terran to the other were ambiguous, neither indicating command nor obedience, and their attitude to the green winged things was even more peculiar and hard to identify. It made him nervous.
“He is not in command over anyone,” Chang explained solemnly. “We are equals. The Wraxtax are the fifteenth species to join our Glorious Federation. I am not really an authority on them. Would you like to see the ship?”
Equals? Equals meant interchangable units, identical quantities. How could a Biped be an interchangable unit or an identical quantity to a Green Bird? And who was in charge? Bryllw knitted his brows staring earnestly at the Biped who had told him he was Captain. Was this nervous creature who was not saluted by his fellows really an Officer? He retracked through the statement and remembered the question. At least that was something clear, and he knew what he wanted.
“Ve must thrade science skilish. Whant to see control room and enshine room, if pleassing to Your Authority.”
The Terran showed his teeth and ducked his head in a gesture Bryllw had learned was friendly. “Very pleasing. Follow me.”
Bryllw motioned his five Nll’nians in spacesuits to follow, wondering at the stupidity shown by non-N’llnian species. They filed along a narrow corridor and through several hatches into a control room, where the Terran solemnly showed them the controls.
“The feeblevetzer is here, this switch and this meter. It is useful only in moments when one wants to exceed the speed of light and does not care in what direction one goes. The Bilateral Fort Allerton is here ...this dial...and that lever...”
Bryllw stood confused, unable to follow the Terran’s explanation. Terran was obviously a more complex language than they had thought. The dials and switches and screens of the control board looked precisely like dials and switches and screens with no hint of their use. Perhaps if he could see the machinery...
“Enshine room. See enshine room, Your Oberlord?”
Again there was no objection. As Bryllw followed, amazed at the stupidity of the Terrans, he spoke softly into his throat-mike to halt his men. “Don’t all follow me. Four of you stay in the control room, stand around asking questions, look innocent, try to see where they keep any weapons and be ready to kill them and seize the ship when I give the order.”
[Hahn: “ ...Ohhh... our friend is clever.”‘
“I don’t see any weapons, Authority,” Llyllw reported, his voice coming in tinnily on the earphone. “I’m last in line, and one of the Terrans is following us and pointing a framework of wires at us. It is about two hands square, and looks just like wires. The green things just flew in.”
“Don’t move suddenly, Idiot. Look peaceable and ask questions about their language and number system. Pretend you don’t notice he’s pointing anything at you. Keep someone wandering around behind him, and be ready to kill him when I give the word.”
“Hey Taylor,” H
ahn called cheerily in the control room “Know Pig Latin? Utpay ouryay ackbay gainstagay allay ulkheadbay, otgay itay?”
* * * *
Bryllw was disturbed as he walked down the corridor. A framework contraption of wires a weapon? Where would you get the power? And why did the majority of the Terrans wear neither uniforms nor weapons? They wore only skin and harness, not suitable for hiding weapons, and with no insignia of rank. How could the ship be organized in any orderly fashion if there was no way to tell who was in command of what?
[“What’s bothering him now? We know who does what in the crew, why should anyone wear a label?” “It’s Authoritarian custom to wear a label, makes them feel happier.” “I read that part in the Handbook, but he seems to think it is practical! I mean....” “Be clear, man...let’s follow this.”]
A ship could not run without some indication of rank and authority, Bryllw thought uneasily, and his skin prickled again with that strange, watched feeling. Perhaps the Terrans had taken off their uniforms and insignia to conceal some vital information about themselves. Perhaps they were not so helpless as they seemed and were playing some game of considerable depth and darkness.
Star Science Fiction 5 - [Anthology] Page 2