Part 6 (1/2)

Presently the most un.o.bservant of watches must have perceived that their movement was random. That they were not driven. That they had no purpose. That they were not squad s.h.i.+ps but targets--and not even robot targets--set out for the missile rockets of the Huk planet to expend themselves on.

The missile rockets had expended themselves.

So Sergeant Madden opened communication with the Huks.

”These Huks,” observed Sergeant Madden as the squad s.h.i.+p descended to the Huk planet's surface, ”they must've had a share in the sc.r.a.pping eighty years ago. They've got everything the old-time Huks had. They've even got recordings of human talk from civilian human prisoners of years gone by. And they kept somebody able to talk it--for when they fought with us!”

Patrolman Willis did not answer. He had a strange expression on his face. At the moment they were already within the Huk home-planet's atmosphere. From time to time a heavily accented voice gave curt instructions. It was a Huk voice, telling Patrolman Willis how to guide the squad s.h.i.+p to ground where--under truce--Sergeant Madden might hold conference with Huk authorities.

”_Hold the course_,” said the voice. ”_That is r-right. Do as you are._”

The horizon had ceased to be curved minutes ago. Now the ground rose gradually. The ground was green. Large green growths cl.u.s.tered off to one side of the flat area where the s.h.i.+p was to alight. They were the equivalent of trees on this planet. Undoubtedly there were equivalents of gra.s.s and shrubs, and seed-bearing and root-propagating vegetation, and Huks would make use of some seeds and roots for food. Because in order to have a civilization one has to have a larger food-supply than can be provided by even the thriftiest of grazing animals. But the Huks or their ancestors would need to have been flesh-eaters also, for brains to be useful in hunting and therefore for mental activity to be recognized as useful. A vegetarian community can maintain a civilization, but it has to start off on meat.

A clump of ground-cars waited for the squad s.h.i.+p's landing. The s.h.i.+p touched, delicately. Sergeant Madden rumbled and got out of his chair.

Patrolman Willis looked at him uneasily.

”Huh!” said Sergeant Madden. ”Of course you can come. You want them to think we're bluffing? No. Nothing to fight with. The Huks think our fleet's set to do the fighting.”

He undogged the exit door and went out through the small vestibule which was also the s.h.i.+p's air lock. Patrolman Willis joined him out-of-doors.

The air was fresh. The sky was blue. Clouds floated in the sky, and growing things gave off a not-unpleasant odor, and a breeze blew uncertainly. But such things happen on appropriate planets in most sol-type solar systems.

Huks came toward them. Stiffly. Defiantly. The most conspicuous difference between Huks and humans was of degree. Huks grew hair all over their heads, instead of only parts of it. But they wore garments, and some of the garments were identical and impressive, so they could be guessed to be uniforms.

”How-do,” said the voice that had guided the s.h.i.+p down. ”We are r-ready to listen to your message.”

Sergeant Madden said heavily:

”We humans believe you Huks have got a good fleet. We believe you've got a good army. We know you've got good rockets and a fighting force that's worth a lot to us. We want to make a treaty for you to take over and defend as much territory as you're able to, against some characters heading this way from the Coalsack region.”

Silence. The interpreter translated, and the Huks muttered astonishedly among themselves. The interpreter received instructions.

”Do you mean others of our r-race?” he demanded haughtily. ”Members of our own r-race who r-return to r-recover their home worlds from humans?”

”h.e.l.l, no!” said Sergeant Madden dourly. ”If you can get in contact with them and bring them back, they can have their former planets back and more besides--if they'll defend 'em. We're stretched thin. We didn't come here to fight your fleet. We came to ask it to join us.”

More mutterings. The interpreter faced about.

”This surpr-rises us,” he said darkly. ”We know of no danger in the direction you speak of. Per-rhaps we would wish to make fr-riends with that danger instead of you!”

Sergeant Madden snorted.

”You're welcome!” Then he said sardonically: ”If you're able to reach us after you try, the offer stands. Join us, and you'll give your own commands and make your own decisions. We'll co-operate with you. But you won't make friends with the characters I'm talking about! Not hardly!”

More hurried discussions still. The interpreter, defiantly: ”And if we r-refuse to join you?”

Sergeant Madden shrugged.