Part 9 (2/2)
”Jumping s.p.a.ce-warps,” said Smith.
Chouns felt stunned. Animal life was much rarer than vegetation, and even the glimmerings of intelligence were far rarer still; yet here, not half a mile away from landing point, was a cl.u.s.tering of low, thatched huts that were obviously the product of a primitive intelligence.
”Careful, ” said Smith dazedly.
”I don't think there's any harm,” said Chouns. He stepped out onto the surface of the planet with firm confidence; Smith followed.
Chouns controlled his excitement with difficulty. ”This is terrific. No one's ever reported anything better than caves or woven tree-branches before.”
”I hope they're harmless.”
”It's too peaceful for them to be anything else. Smell the air.”
Coming down to landing, the terrain-to all points of horizon, except where a low range of hills broke the even line-had been colored a soothing pale pink, dappled against the chlorophyll green. At closer quarters the pale pink broke up into individual flowers, fragile and fragrant. Only the areas in the immediate neighborhood of the huts were amber with something that looked like a cereal grain.
Creatures were emerging from the huts, moving closer to the s.h.i.+p with a kind of hesitating trust. They had four legs and a sloping body which stood three feet high at the shoulders. Their heads were set firmly on those shoulders, with bulging eyes (Chouns counted six) set in a circle and capable of the most disconcertingly independent motion. (That makes up for the immovability of the head, (That makes up for the immovability of the head, thought Chouns.) thought Chouns.) Each animal had a tail that forked at the end, forming two st.u.r.dy fibrils that each animal held high. The fibrils maintained a rapid tremor that gave them a hazy, blurred look.
”Come on,” said Chouns. ”They won't hurt us; I'm sure of it.”
The animals surrounded the men at a cautious distance. Their tails made a modulated humming noise.
”They might communicate that way,” said Chouns. ” And I think it's obvious they're vegetarians.” He pointed toward one of the huts, where a small member of the species sat on its haunches, plucking at the amber grain with his tails, and flickering an ear of it through his mouth like a man sucking a series of maraschino cherries off a toothpick.
”Human beings eat lettuce,” said Smith, ”but that doesn't prove anything.”
More of the tailed creatures emerged, hovered about the men for a moment, then vanished off into the pink and green.
”Vegetarians,” said Chouns firmly. ”Look at the way they cultivate the main crop.”
The main crop, as Chouns called it, consisted of a coronet of soft green spikes, close to the ground. Out of the center of the coronet grew a hairy stem which, at two-inch intervals, shot out fleshy, veined buds that almost pulsated, they seemed so ”Vitally alive. The stem ended at the tip with the pale pink blossoms that, except for the color, were the most Earthly thing about the plants.
The plants were laid out in rows and files with geometric precision. The soil about each was well loosened and powdered with a foreign substance that could be nothing but fertilizer. Narrow pa.s.sageways, just wide enough for an animal to pa.s.s along, crisscrossed the field, and each pa.s.sageway was lined with narrow sluiceways, obviously for water.
The animals were spread through the fields now, working diligently, heads bent. Only a few remained in the neighborhood of the two men.
Chouns nodded. ”They're good farmers.”
”Not bad,” agreed Smith. He walked briskly toward the nearest of the pale pink blooms and reached for one; but six inches short of it he was stopped by the sound of tail vibrations keening to shrillness, and by the actual touch of a tail upon his arm. The touch was delicate but firm, interposing itself between Smith and the plants.
Smith fell back. ”What in s.p.a.ce--” He had half reached for his blaster when Chouns said, ”No cause for excitement; take it easy.”
Half a dozen of the creatures were now gathering about the two, offering stalks of grain humbly and gently, some using their tails, some nudging it forward with their muzzles.
Chouns said, ”They're friendly enough. Picking a bloom might be against their customs; the plants probably have to be treated according to rigid rules. Any culture that has agriculture probably has fertility rites, and Lord knows what that involves. The rules governing the cultivation of the plants must be strict, or there wouldn't be those accurate measured rows. ...s.p.a.ce, won't they sit up back home when they hear this?”
The tail humming shot up in pitch again, and the creatures near them fell back. Another member of the species was emerging from a larger hut in the center of the group.
”The chief, I suppose,” muttered Chouns. The new one advanced slowly, tail high, each fibril encircling a small black object. At a distance of five feet its tail arched forward.
”He's giving it to us,” said Smith in astonishment, ”and Chouns, for G.o.d's sake, look look at it.” at it.”
Chouns was doing so, feverishly. He choked out, out, ”They're Gamow hyperspatial sighters. Those are ten-thousand-dollar instruments.” ”They're Gamow hyperspatial sighters. Those are ten-thousand-dollar instruments.”
Smith emerged from the s.h.i.+p again, after an hour within. He shouted from the ramp in high excitement, ”They work. They're perfect. We're rich.”
Chouns called back, ”I've been checking through their huts. I can't find any more.”
”Don't sneeze at just two. Good Lord, these are as negotiable as a handful of cash.”
But Chouns still looked about, arms akimbo, exasperated. Three of the tailed creatures had dogged him from hut to hut-patiently, never interfering, but remaining always between him and the geometrically cultivated pale pink blossoms. Now they stared multiply at him.
Smith said, ”It's the latest model, too. Look here.” He pointed to the raised lettering which said Model X-20. Gamow Products. Warsaw. European Sector. Model X-20. Gamow Products. Warsaw. European Sector.
Chouns glanced at it and said impatiently, ”What interests me is getting more. I know know there are more Gamow sighters somewhere, I want them.” His cheeks were flushed and his breathing heavy. there are more Gamow sighters somewhere, I want them.” His cheeks were flushed and his breathing heavy.
The sun was setting; the temperature dropped below the comfortable point. Smith sneezed twice, then Chouns.
”We'll catch pneumonia,” snuffled Smith.
”I've got to make them understand,” said Chouns stubbornly. He had eaten hastily through a can of pork sausage, had gulped down a can of coffee, and was ready to try again.
He held the sighter high. ”More,” he said, ”more,” making encircling movements with his arms. He pointed to one sighter, then to the other, then to the imaginary additional ones lined up before him. ”More.”
Then, as the last of the sun dipped below the horizon, a vast hum arose from all parts of the field as every creature in sight ducked its head, lifted its forked tail, and vibrated it into screaming invisibility in the twilight.
”What in s.p.a.ce,” muttered Smith uneasily. ”Hey, look at the blooms!” He sneezed again.
The pale pink flowers were shriveling visibly. Chouns shouted to make himself heard above the hum, ”It may be a reaction to sunset. You know, the blooms close at night. The noise may be a religious observance of the fact.”
A soft flick of a tail across his wrist attracted Chouns's instant attention. The tail he had felt belonged to the nearest creature; and now it was raised to the sky, toward a bright object low on the western horizon. The tail bent downward to point to the sighter, then up again to the star.
Chouns said excitedly, ”Of course-the inner planet; the other habitable one. These must have come from there.” Then, reminded by the thought, he cried in sudden shock, ”Hey, Smith, the hyperatomic motors are still out.”
Smith looked shocked, as though he had forgotten, too; then he mumbled, ”Meant to tell you-they're allright.”
”You fixed them?”
”Never touched them. But when I was testing the sighters I used the hyperatomics and they worked. I didn't pay any attention at the time; I forgot there was anything wrong. Anyway, they worked.”
”Then let's go,” said Chouns at once. The thought of sleep never occurred to him.
Neither one slept through the six-hour trip. They remained at the controls in an almost drug-fed pa.s.sion. Once again they chose a bare spot on which to land.
It was hot with an afternoon subtropical heat; and a broad, muddy river moved placidly by them. The near bank was of hardened mud, riddled with large cavities.
<script>