by neetha Napew
“Nonsense,” sputtered Third, looking directly at Second who had been remarkably quiet throughout this meeting. “What we need to know is the strength of their weapons, their space fleet, the position of their home worlds, the . . .”
“That is quite enough, Third! You are interrupting Eighth.”
“But you aren’t dealing with the core of the matter at all, First.
You know you aren’t.” Third’s voice rang with an angry note in which the Chief detected a ring of fear. “We’ve got to be able to destroy them before they can . . .”
“And who has prated most of the Prime Rule, Third Speaker?” The anger in First’s tone was not fear-based; it was the indignation of a patient, overtried man. “Destruction has not been our operational aim in thousands of years. Let us not retrogress to it in this crisis. Let us, instead, learn as much as we can of our new friends—yes, friends, Third, not enemies! For it would be race suicide for us in our present decadence to consider them anything else until we have good cause to do so. And I, for one, do not believe we shall have cause.”
“We must protect our people,” Third insisted, pounding the table with his fist. “We cannot permit them to be slaughtered as our team on . .
.”
“Withdrawal can be effected instantly,” Second remarked calmly.
The Chief longed to speak but could not even catch First’s eye.
“Can you imagine the effect on our new friends,” First continued,
all our people just—disappeared? They are not unintelligent, for they already have space travel, and our disappearance can only precipitate more speculation than we wish. Indeed, I believe it will be only a matter of time before one of them adds up the anomalies we have already presented them. It is far better for us to preserve the facade of low-culture post-nomadic . . .”
“A ridiculous notion; degrading, a spurious protection . . .” Third muttered audibly.
“Are any of your stripe there?” First asked with mild concern.
“Of course not. More sense than to participate in such an
outlandish idea”
“Considering the volume of space separating us from this planet, how high is the probability of their race finding our home world?” Fifth asked Eighth.
Fifth was another unknown quantity, the Chief knew, for it was only in the past year that Fifth had shown an interest in the botanical, pharmaceutical and mineral resources of the world. Specimens had been quickly procured for his research laboratories but Fifth had issued no reports on his findings.
“I have run that probability through the computer,” Eighth replied slowly, “but again, the data is insufficient. We know nothing of the tenacity and aggressiveness of this race.”
“Which brings us right back to the point under discussion,” First remarked smoothly. “We must know more about our new friends. We must learn to communicate with them so that we can assess their basic psychological reactions . . .”
“Such as their ability to build bridges?” Third snapped. “I insist, by virtue of my prerogative as Third Speaker for Internal Affairs, that our people be protected from those—those bareskinned beasts. By forceful means if necessary. Place a defensive screen around that planet . . .”
“A moment, Third,” First intervened in a steely voice. “Let us examine the matter calmly.”
Third spluttered a moment longer until it finally bore through to him that his vehemence was jeopardizing his cause.
“I have been hasty,” he apologized, “but my concern is all for those valiant pioneers, defenseless against the unimaginable machinations of these unknown bipeds.”
“Your concern does you credit,” First murmured and then beckoned to Eighth who had been patiently waiting to continue.
“I propose a compromise until we have amassed sufficient data to plot a probability curve. Am I correct in understanding from the translation of the tapes that the families of these—bareskins are due to arrive shortly?” Eighth received a confirmation. “I assume that they also must have informed their home world of our presence?” The Chief nodded. “Then let us permit the family transport to land, for to prevent that would be heartless and would also hamper one facet of our investigations. However, since we do not yet know the psychology of the bareskins, let us agree that our people be instantly transported back to their base as soon as any other vehicle is detected approaching the planet.”
The instant approval of this concession was so over-whelming that First, who foresaw the problems inherent in the compromise, felt it wiser not to protest.
Chapter IX
ARRIVAL
SINCE ITS COMPLETION three days ago, the bridge had had heavy traffic. The mornings visiting Hrrubans were already crossing it. Solinari and McKee passed them midway, pausing to say hello, then hurrying on to meet their own guides. They were off to the groves the Hrrubans cultivated for a rich nut which they ground for meal. Solinari and McKee had an idea about importing seed pods, speculating that the trees might be grown hydroponically. They hoped to get a Food Resources Grant and thus avoid a reduced status when they returned to Earth.
Reeve pulled on his coverall, aware that his private ruminations would make him late for his own appointment.
Hrrestan and two unfamiliar Hrrubans were expecting him at the mess hall. He had got used to distinguishing the natives by the variations and shadings of their velvety fur and eye markings. Gaynor might grumble that he couldn’t tell one cat from another, but there were differences in the color of the backbone stripe and eye markings almost as distinct as the onetime differences in Terran skin shades. Lawrence suggested that this might be due to dietary differences rather than tribal or ethnic variations.
Ken hurried out of his cabin, down the trail to the mess hall, where the Hrrubans were awaiting him on the porch. He managed to growl out a respectable Hrruban apology to which Hrrestan replied with courteous denials. Reeve was delighted to be able to understand every word Hrrestan spoke. Progress in one direction, at least.
Hrrestan introduced the older of the two men as Hrral and the other Hrrto. Hrral was older than Hrrestan, his body fur so deep a brown it blended with the backbone stripe. His face fur was flecked with white, yet there was no other indication of approaching debility in the straight, strong body.
Hrral returned Reeve’s carefully enunciated greeting with grave courtesy.
“Hrral is the elder of our largest settlement,” Hrrestan explained.
“I sent messages requesting him to visit us at his earliest convenience.
Hrrto lives not far from Hrral and accompanied him.”
Reeve felt his expression of welcome must be frozen on his face from the shock of Hrrestan’s words. Why had it not occurred to anyone before that there would be more such settlements on Doona? It should have been obvious that Hrrestan’s village could not be an isolated instance of humanoid life. A trained alienist would have undoubtedly checked that out immediately. Hell, his training had been in planetary exploitation, not diplomatic relations. Codep was damned lucky he’d taken up linguistics at all. At least some attempt had been made at establishing communication. He was a settler, damn it, up against a situation nowhere mentioned in fifteen years of extensive training.
“It is our way,” Hrrestan continued smoothly, “to live in small groups so that our numbers are not a burden on game and other resources.”
The horror of his home Sector’s warren-like levels was superimposed for an instant over the Hrruban village and sent an additional internal shock through Reeve. He mumbled something about their wisdom.
“There has been mention made within my hearing of your sky-traveling ships,” Hrrestan continued. “The young Hrrula says your mates and young will soon be joined with you. Hrral,” and here Hrrestan made a curious bow to the elder, “great as is his learning and long as is his life has never seen such a wonder as a ship that travels in the sky.”
Hrral seemed afflicted with a cough and his tail tip twitched.
; “This is truly said to you by Hrrestan, Hrral,” Reeve replied
earnestly but slowly. “For how else could men travel from one world to another? This is how we have come here.”
Reeve caught a glimpse of Hrrula’s jaw dropped in silent amusement and wondered frantically what word he had mispronounced.
“It would be our great pleasure,” Reeve began to see what Hrrestan was leading up to, “if the noble Hrral would remain as our guest until the sky ship comes?”
Hrral and Hrrestan exchanged glances and Reeve wondered if he had exceeded his authority in making the invitation. He looked around for Hu Shih. The courtesy and self-effacing manners of the Hrrubans were considerably more in the metropologist’s manner than Reeve’s. Sometimes Ken felt that he compared unfavorably with an untrained Hrruban cub with his habit of blurting out what he thought instead of couching it in the properly elegant phrases.
How the hell did anyone find out anything from Hrrubans, he’d like to know, when you had to lead up to what you wanted to say from the opposite direction? Sure, they should be finding out all kinds of facts about burial techniques ,child education, status symbols, tribal government, so that Alreldep would have what it needed. But the formal Hrruban language did not adapt itself to blunt inquiries. The inquirer— and Reeve was not alone in this frustration—was likely to find himself involved in a pronunciation lesson. So often in his dealings with Hrrula, Reeve would arrive at the opening he needed to insert a leading question, only to find himself involved in a grammar lesson. By the time he had been lectured on the exceptions to that particular rule, he had forgotten his question. It never seemed intentional at that time but, in retrospect, Reeve wasn’t so sure that the Hrrubans hadn’t discovered an exceptionally deft evasive trick.
Expressing surprised pleasure at the invitation, Hrral argued amiably with Hrrestan about the great inconvenience to which he would put his host. By the time he had reassured Hrral, Reeve found that he was also committed to conducting Hrral around the colonists’ installation.
They were about to step into the mess hall when both Hrrubans stopped suddenly, throwing their heads up to the sky, their ears twitching rapidly. Confused, Reeve scanned the sky to see what could have attracted their attention. Hrrula was also standing stock-still, head skyward.
“The eyes of the Hrruban are farseeing,” Ken remarked politely.
“May I know what they see in the sky?”
Hrrestan, his ears still working, his pupils adjusting his vision to normal range, widened his mouth in the Hrruban version of a smile.
“The sky ship is descending. Observe the sparkling.”
Ken peered over the velvety shoulder, glanced along the angle
indicated and, sure enough, a metallic flash appeared in the sky at the tip of the pointing claw. Faintly now, Ken could hear the boom of retroblasts as the ship braked.
It took all Reeve’s self-control to keep from reacting in the idiot way of the others. Someone had sense enough to set the air whistle blowing in report-in sequence. Hu Shih emerged excitedly from the mess hall, nearly treading on Hrral’s tail in his haste. Reeve managed to make the proper introductions as the metropologist bowed his apologies. By the time Hu Shih realized that Hrral came from a distant village, the glint of sun on metal was constant. The speck that was the ship enlarged noticeably with each passing second.
“We will not intrude on the reunion of families so long separated,” Hrral demurred, politely, edging away.
He seemed in an all-fired hurry to get away suddenly, Reeve thought, when a moment ago he was so anxious to stay. Maybe Hrruban ears couldn’t take the noise of descent. Every Hrruban ear was flat against the skull.
“It is a joyous occasion we would share with our new friends,” Hu Shih replied graciously.
“Stay. There is no need to leave,” Hrrestan remarked quickly to Hrral. “A great feast has been planned by our women to welcome their women.”
“Such thoughtfulness will be treasured memory,” Hu Shih answered.
Ramasan came tearing around the corner of the building.
“Shih, there are—oh pardon,” he added in stumbling Hrruban. He
plucked at the metropologist’s sleeve to draw him to one side. “Those females are digging a pit and there are I don’t know how many deer carcasses in my kitchen—and I can’t understand . . .”
“Evidently their women wish to help prepare the welcoming feast,” Reeve told him.
“Oh—oh,” Ramasan murmured, “there’ll be so much to be done— and I simply don’t know enough Hrruban—“ but he dashed off before Hu Shih or Ken could reassure him.
Omigod, thought Ken with a sudden panic. All these cats and no one on board that ship knows about it!
Chapter X
PROBLEM CHILD
THE GIANT squatty transport ship had made planetfall, the event punctuated by the steam rising from the burn-off. The men, moving with clumsy haste, sprayed down the chemical neutralizer, then pumped water on the flat burned ground to hasten cooling. The sooner that was accomplished, the sooner their women would disembark. Each man had known that there was no way the ship could be contacted by Codep and diverted once the existence of the natives was known. Yet everyone had been haunted by the fear that somehow they might be denied even a brief reunion with their families.
The ship was a silver exclamation point to their relief and welcome. As the water stopped boiling away, the steam cleared and the upper lock slid open, a black eye on the silver skin. Two men emerged, scrambling agilely down the passenger steplift. With great leaps they cleared the burn-off area, looking around. Hu Shih hastily plowed through the men who crowded the burn-off edge, trying to wave to the women who now filled the open lock.
The captain, swarthy-faced and possessing a bizarre sprouting of facial hair, frowned at the Hrrubans before he saluted Hu Shih.
He started to speak but could not make himself heard above the babble caused by the men shouting to their wives aloft.
“Belay it,” the captain bellowed with lungs developed communicating across blast-off bedlam. “Y’can yell yerselves sick, but until I turn my papers over to your chief here, no one steps off the ship or on it.” He glared impersonally at everyone before continuing in a milder tone, “and I’ll not flip a frame forward in the midst of riot.”
The men, not without a little grumblings quieted down. With a two-fingered touch to his cap brim, the captain handed over a tube of film to the metropologist.
“Ali Kiachif, commanding officer of Codep Ship Astrid, passenger and cargo manifests. I’m to request all aid and assistance in unloading to facilitate my departure in good order at sunrise,” he rumbled off in a bored voice “Anyone we know?” he added in an undertone, jerking a long stained thumb at the Hrrubans.
“Captain Kiachif, an emergency has arisen,” Hu Shih began with much throat-clearing, “which may necessitate your remaining . . .”
“Oh no, nooo,” Kiachif countered, palms up in disagreement, his brows half-moons over his very wide eyes. “None shall detain this courier from the course of his carefully plotted and closely allotted tour. I’m due at Codep Provisionary Planet number oh-who the-hell-cares. And I’m leaving tomorrow,” he rolled his eyes heavenward, “with an empty ship because that’s the way my orders’re cut. In the meantime, if you had a little—a little—“ his voice trailed off expressively.
“This way, Captain Kiachif,” Hu Shih hastily indicated, gesturing toward the mess hall.
“We can’t unload the livestock, Shih,” Ben protested, blocking their path.
“Whaddya mean—you can’t unload the livestock?” Kiachif demanded, scowling fiercely. “You gotta I’m to pick up rare metal ingots on that godforsaken provisionary hell.”
“That’s the emergency,” Hu Shih repeated urgently. “It is only a matter of hours, I’m sure, before we will receive orders from Codep. They will undoubtedly include our instant removal from this planet.”
The captain shot a stunned glan
ce back at his ship, frowned blackly at the Hrrubans and then brandished his order tapes.
“What shall it be? Leave your families and all here—or dump ‘em off in the mining dome of a chlorine world? You know how big domes are and what sort of man is sentenced there. You’ve got the choice, because I have none. That rare ore has to be taken to Elerell 4.”
There was no doubt that the feisty Kiachif would do exactly as he threatened, though it seemed an irrational and inflexible stand to take, considering the emergency.
The upshot was that the unloading began. Questions from the women, who were startled at seeing the Hrrubans, had to be given short shrift. Everyone, with the exception of the three smallest children, was pressed into service in the unloading.
Ken found himself leading a groggy mare down the gangway and realized that he had never touched a live horse in his life. The mare’s velvet hide was warm to his touch and it exuded a pungent odor not at all unpleasant, though intangibly different from that of the herd beasts he had slaughtered here. She had been blind-folded and was trembling, her hooves daintily seeking footing on the ramp with a nervous grace that fascinated Ken. She snorted, tossing her head and, not knowing what else to do, Ken spoke to her reassuringly, patting her neck with tentative strokes, uncertain whether she would resent being touched.
“Lead her forward, man, she won’t break,” McKee yelled behind him. He and Ben were the only two who had had any direct experience with the Terran animals. “Hiyup, girl,” McKee added, swatting the mare with the end of the halter rope he held.
With an indignant squeal, the mare leapt forward and Reeve, hanging on instinctively, ran with her down the ramp.
“I’ll make a horseman of you, Ken, if there’s time,” McKee said as he trotted his mare beside Ken.
“If I may assist, Rrev,” hissed Hrrula softly at Ken’s elbow.