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He swung the s.h.i.+p's one weapon, a stun gun, over his shoulder. It gave him a rakish air. He put on a hat.
"Yep. You keep s.h.i.+p till I come back!"
He went down the stairs. Link heard him go down all the levels until he came to the exit port in one of the s.h.i.+p's landing fins. From the control room he saw Thistlethwaite stride grandly to the top of the nearest hill, look exhaustively from there, and then march away with an air of great and confident composure. He went out of sight beyond the hillcrest.
Link went down to the exit port himself. The air in the opening was fresh and markedly pleasant to breathe. He felt that it was about time that something interesting happened. This wasn't it. Here was only commonplace landscape, commonplace sky, and commonplace tedium. He sat on the sill of the open exit port and waited without expectation for something interesting to happen.
Presently he heard tiny clickings. Two small animals, very much like pigs in size and appearance, came trotting hurriedly into view. Their hoofs had made the clicking sounds. They saw the s.h.i.+p and stopped short, staring at it. They didn't look dangerous.
"Hi, there," said Link companionably.
The small creatures vanished instantly. They plunged behind boulders. Link shrugged. He gazed about him. After a little, he saw an eye peering at him around a boulder. It was the eye of one of the pig-like animals. Link moved abruptly and the eye vanished.
A voice spoke, apparently from nowhere. It was scornful. "Jumpy, huh? Scared?"
"I was startled," said Link mildly, "but I wouldn't say I was scared. Should I be?"
The voice said sardonically, "Huh!"
There was silence again. There was stillness. A very spa.r.s.e vegetation appeared to have existed where theGlamorgancame down on her rockets. Those scattered bits of growing stuff had been burned to ash by the rocket flames, but at the edge of the burned area some few small smoldering fragments sent threads of smoke skyward to be dissipated by wind that came over the hilltops. On a hillcrest itself a tiny sand-devil whirled for a moment and then vanished.
The voice said abruptly and scornfully, "You in the door there! Where'd you come from?"
Link said agreeably, "From Trent."
"What's that?" demanded the voice, disparagingly.
"A planet-a world like this," explained Link.
The voice said, "Huh!" There was a long pause. It said, "Why?"
Link had no idea what or who his unseen questioner might be, but the tone of the questioning was scornful. He felt that a certain impressiveness on his own part was in order. He said, "That is something to be disclosed only to proper authority. The purpose of my companion and myself, however, is entirely admirable. I may say that in time to come it is probable that the anniversary of our landing will be celebrated over the entire planet."
Having made the statement, he rather admired it. Almost anything could be deduced from it, yet it did not mean a thing.
There was again a silence. Then the voice said cagily, "Celebrated by uffts?"
Here Link made a slight but natural error. The word "uffts," which was unfamiliar, sounded very much like "us," and he took it for the latter. He said profoundly, "I would say that that is a reasonable a.s.sumption."
Dead silence once more. It lasted for a long time. Then the same voice said sharply, "Somebody's coming."
There came a scurrying behind the boulders. Little clickings sounded. There were flashes of pinkish-white hide. Then the two pig-like creatures darted back into view, galloping madly for the hillcrest over which they'd come. They vanished beyond it. Link spoke again, but there was no reply.
For a long time silence lay over the hollow in which theGlamorganhad come to rest. Link spoke repeatedly-chattily, seriously. The silence seemed almost ominous. He began to realize that Thistlethwaite had been gone for a long time. It was well over an hour, now. He ought to be getting back.
He didn't come. Link was genuinely concerned when, at least another half-hour later, a remarkably improbable cavalcade came leisurely over the hillcrest, crossed by Thistlethwaite to begin with, and the pig-like animals later. The members of the cavalcade regarded the s.h.i.+p interestedly, and came on at a deliberate and unhurried pace. There were half a dozen men, mounted on large, splay-footed animals which had to be called unicorns, because from the middle of their foreheads drooped flexible, flabby, horn-shaped appendages. The appendages looked discouraged. The facial expression of the animals who wore them was of complete, inquiring idiocy.
That was the first impression. The second was less pleasing. The leader of the riders wore Thistlethwaite's hat-it was too small for him-and had Thistlethwaite's stun gun slung over his shoulder.
Another rider wore Thistlethwaite's s.h.i.+rt and a third wore the whiskery man's pants. A fourth had his shoes dangling as an ornament from his saddle. But of Thistlethwaite himself there was no sign.
All the newcomers carried long spears, lances, and wore at their belts large knives in decorated scabbards half the length of a sword.
The cavalcade came comfortably but ominously toward theGlamorgan.It came to a halt, its members regarding Link with expressions whose exact meaning it was not easy to decide. But Thistlethwaite had marched away from the s.h.i.+p with the only weapon on board, a stun rifle. The leader of this group carried it, but without any sign of familiarity with it. Link considered that he could probably get inside the s.h.i.+p with the port door closed before anything drastic could happen to him. He should, too, find out what had happened to Thistlethwaite.
So he said, "How do you do? Nice weather, isn't it?"
Chapter 3.
There was a movement among the members of the cavalcade. The leader, wearing Thistlethwaite's hat and carrying his stun rifle, looked significantly at his followers. Then he turned to Link and spoke with a certain painful politeness. There was no irony in it. It was manners. It was the most courteous of greetings.
"I'm pretty good, thank you, suh. And the weather's pretty good too, only we could do with a mite of rain." He paused, and said with an elaborate stateliness, "I'm the Householder of the Household over yonder. We heard your s.h.i.+p come down and we wondered about it. An' then . . . uh . . . somethin'
happened and we come to look it over. We never seen a s.h.i.+p like this before, only o'course there's the tales from old times about 'em."
His manner was one of vast dignity. He wore Thistlethwaite's hat, and his companions or followers wore everything else that Thistlethwaite had had on in theGlamorgan.But he ignored the fact. It appeared that he obeyed strict rules of etiquette. And of course, people who follow etiquette are bound by it even in the preliminaries to homicide. Which is important if violence is in the air. Link took advantage of the known fact.
"It's not much of a s.h.i.+p," he said deprecatingly, "but such as it is I'm glad to have you see it."
The leader of the cavalcade was visibly pleased. He frowned, but he said with the same elaborate courtesy, "My name's Harl, suh. Would you care to give me a name to call you by? I wouldn't presume for more than that."
Out of the corner of his eye Link saw that two pig-like animals had appeared not far away. They might be the same two he'd seen before. They squatted on their haunches and watched curiously, what went on as between men. He said, "My name's Link. Link Denham, in fact. Pleased to meet you."
"The same, suh! The same!" The leader's tone became warm while remaining stately. "I take that very kindly, Link, tellin' me your last name, too. And right off Denham . . . Denham . . . I never met none of your Household before, but I'll remember it's a mannerly group. Would you . . . uh . . . have anything else to say?"
Link thought it over.
"I've come a long way," he observed. "I'm not sure what to say that would be most welcome."
"Welcome!" said the man who called himself Harl. He beamed. "Now, that's right nice! Boys, we been welcomed by this here Link and he's told us his last name and that's manners! This here gentleman ain't like that other fella! We're guestin'."
He slipped from his saddle, hung Thistlethwaite's stun gun on his saddle horn, and leaned his spear against theGlamorgan.He held out his hand cordially to Link. Link shook it. Harl's followers similarly divested themselves of weapons. They solemnly shook hands with Link. Harl rapped on one of the Glamorgan'shull plates and said admiringly, "This here s.h.i.+p's iron, ain't it? M-m-m-h! I never saw so much iron to one place in all my lifetime!"
A scornful voice from somewhere said indignantly, "We saw it first! It's ours!"
"Shut up," said Harl to the landscape at large. "And stay shut up." He turned, "Now, Link-"
"We saw it first!" insisted the voice furiously. "We saw it first! It's ours!"
"This gentleman," said Harl firmly, and again to the landscape, "is maybe thinkin' of settin' up a Household here! You uffts clear out!"
Two voices, now, insisted stridently, "It's ours! We saw it first! It's ours!"
Harl said apologetically, "I'm real sorry, Link, but you know how it is with uffts! Uh . . . I'd like to ask you something private."
"Come inside," said Link. He rose.
Harl and his companions-Link thought of the word "retainers" for no special reason-came trooping into the port. Link was very alertly interested. He didn't understand this state of things at all, but men with inhospitable intentions do not disarm themselves. These men had. Men with unpleasant purposes tend to cast furtive glances from one to another. These men didn't. If one ignored the presence of Thistlethwaite's garments, and the absence of Thistlethwaite himself, the atmosphere was almost insanely cordial and friendly and uncalculating. It verified past question that this planet had very little contact with other worlds. People of brisk and progressive cultures feel a deep suspicion of strangers and of each other.
With reason. Yet Thistlethwaite- Link let the small group precede him up the steps inside the landing fin. He could get down and outside before any of them, and very probably lock them in. Then he'd be armed and mounted, which in case of unfriendliness might be an advantage. But in spite of whatever had happened to Thistlethwaite, the feel of things was in no sense ominous. The visitors to the s.h.i.+p were openly curious and openly astonished at what they saw.
They commented almost incredulously that the long flight of steps was made of iron. Link tactfully did not refer to the sealed-off cargo compartments-the lifeboat was sealed off, too-nor to Thistlethwaite's garments worn so matter-of-factly by his guests. They pa.s.sed the engine room without recognizing the door to it as what it was. They marveled to each other that iron showed through the worn floor-covering of the mess room. They were astounded by the cabins. But the control room left them entirely uninterested except for small metal objects-instruments-fastened to the control board and fitted into the walls.
The man wearing Thistlethwaite's pants took a deep breath. He caught Link's eye and said wistfully, "Mistuh Link, that's a right pretty little thing!"
He pointed to the s.h.i.+p's chronometer. Harl said angrily: "You shut up! What kinds guest-gift haveyoubrought? I beg y'pardon, Link, for this fella!" He glared at his following. "Sput! You fellas go downstairs an' wait outside, so's you won't shame me again! I got to talk confidential to Mistuh Link, anyway."
His followers, still flaunting Thistlethwaite's garments, went trooping down and out. Silence fell, below.
Then Harl said, "Link, I'm right sorry about that fella! Admirin' something of yours to get it, without givin' you a gift first!
I'd ought to chase him outa my Household for bad manners! I hope you'll excuse me for him!"
"No harm done," said Link. "He just forgot." It was evident that etiquette played a great part in the lives of the people of Sord Three. It looked promising. "I'd like to ask-"
Harl said confidentially, "Let's talk private, Link. Do you know a little fella with whiskers that cusses dreadful an' insults people right an' left an' says-" his voice dropped to a shocked tone-"an' says he's a friend of Old Man Addison? A fella like that come to my Household and-you maybe won't believe this, Link, but it's so-he offered to pay me for sendin' a message to Old Man Addison! He . . . offered to . .
. pay me! Like I was an ufft! I'm beggin' your pardon for askin' such a thing, but we're talkin' private. Do you know a fella like that?"
"He ran the engines of this s.h.i.+p," said Link. "His name's Thistlethwaite. I don't know what he has to do with Old Man Addison."
"Natural!" said Harl hastily. "I wouldn't suspect you of anything like that! But . . . uh . . . the womenfolks said his clothes wasn't duplied. Is that a fact, Link? They went crazy fingerin' the cloth he was wearin'.
Was it unduplied, Link?"
"I wouldn't know anything about his clothes," said Link. "I did notice your men were wearing them. I wondered."
"But you didn't say a word," said Harl, warmly. "Yes, suh! You got manners! But did you ever hear anything like what I just told you? Offerin' to pay me-and me a Householder-for sendin' a message to Old Man Addison! Did you ever, Link?"
"It's bad?" asked Link, blinking.
"I left word," said Harl indignantly, "to hang him as soon as enough folks got together to enjoy it. What else could I do? But I'd heard the noise when this s.h.i.+p came down, and it was you, landin' here! It's a great thing havin' you land here, Link! And think of havin' clothes that ain't duplied! If you set up a Household-"
Link stared. He'd always believed that he craved the new and the unpredictable. But this talk left him way behind. He felt that it would be a good idea to go off by himself and hold his head for a while. Yet Thistlethwaite- "Sput!" said Harl, frowning to himself. "Here I am, guestin' with you, an' no guest-gift! But in a way you're guestin' with me, being this is on my Household land. And I ain't been hospitable! Look, Link! I'll send a ufft over with a message to hold up the hangin' till we get there and we'll go watch with the rest.
What say?"
For perhaps the first time in his life, Link felt that things were a good deal more unexpected than he entirely enjoyed. There was only one way to stay ahead of developments until he could sort things out.
"That suggestion," he said profoundly, "is highly consistent with the emergency measures I feel should be subst.i.tuted for apparently standard operational procedures with reference to discourteous s.p.a.ce travelers." He saw that Harl looked at once blank and admiring, which was what he'd hoped. "In other words," said Link, "yes."
"Then let's get started," said Harl in a pleased tone. "Y'know, Link, you not only got manners, you got words! I got to introduce you to my sister!"
He descended the stairs, Link following. The situation was probably serious. It could be appalling. But Link had been restless for days, now, from a lack of things to interest his normally active brain. He felt himself challenged. It appeared that Sord Three might turn out to be a very interesting place.
When they reached the open-air, the two pig-like animals had joined the party of waiting unicorns and men. They moved about underfoot with the accustomed air of dogs with a hunting party of men. But they did not wear dogs' amiable expressions. They looked distinctly peevish.
"I want somebody to take a message," said Harl briskly. "It's worth two beers."
A pig-like animal looked at him scornfully. Link heard a voice remarkably resembling that of the invisible conversationalist he'd talked to before these men arrived.
"This is our s.h.i.+p!" said the voice stridently. "We saw it first!"
"You didn't tell us," said Harl firmly. "And we found it without you. Besides, it belongs to this gentleman.
You want two beers?"
"Tyrant!" snapped the voice. "Robber! Grinding down the poor! Robbing-"
"Hush up!" said Harl. "Do you take the message or not?"
A second voice said defiantly, "For four beers! It's worth ten!"
"All right, four beers it is," agreed Harl. "The message is not to hang that whiskery fella till we get there.
We'll be right along."
The first scornful voice snapped, "Who gets the message?"
"Tell my sister," said Harl impatiently. "Shoo!"
The two pig-like animals broke into a gallop together and went streaking over the nearest bill crest. As they went, squabbling voices accused each other, the one because the bargain was for only two beers apiece, and the other for having gotten himself included in the bargain out of all reason. Link stared after them, his jaw dropped open. The voices dwindled, disputing, and ended as the piggish creatures disappeared.
Link swallowed and blinked. Harl appointed one of his followers to remain in theGlamorganas caretaker. That left a splay-footed animal with a drooping nose-horn as a mount for Link. Bemused and almost incredulous, he climbed into the saddle on a signal from Harl. The completely improbable cavalcade moved briskly away from the landed s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p. It was not an indiscretion on Link's part. A care-taker remained with the s.h.i.+p, and Thistlethwaite was in trouble. Link went to try to get him out.
Also, it appeared to be definite that Link had somehow made himself a guest in Harl's Household-whatever that might be-and etiquette protected him from ordinary peril so long as he did nothing equivalent to offering to pay to have a message delivered, or rather, so long as he did nothing equivalent to offering to pay Harl for having a message delivered. It was approvable to offer to pay small animals like pigs who- "My fella back there," said Harl rea.s.suringly as they mounted a hillock and from its top saw other hillocks stretching away indefinitely, "my fella, he'll take good care of your s.h.i.+p, Link. I warned him not to touch a thing but just keep uffts out and if any human come by to say you're guestin' with me."
"Thanks," said Link. Then he said painfully, "Those small fat animals-"
"Uffts?" said Harl. "Don't you have 'em where you come from?"
"No," said Link. "We don't. It seems that . . . they talk!"
"Natural," Harl agreed. "They talk too much, if you ask me. Those two will stop on the way an' tell all the other uffts all about the message, and about you, an' everything. But they were on this world when the old-timers came an' settled' here. They were the smartest critters on the planet. Plenty smart! But they're awful proud. They got brains, but they've got hoofs instead of hands, so all they can do is talk. They have big gatherin's and drink beer and make speeches to each other about how superior they are to human bein's because they ain't got paws like us."
The motion of the splay-footed unicorns was unpleasant. The one Link rode put down each foot separately, and the result was a series of swayings in various directions which had a tendency to make a rider sea-sick. Link struggled with that sensation. Harl appeared to be thinking deeply, and sadly. The unicorns were not hoofed animals so there was no sound of hoofbeats. There was only the creaking of saddle leather and very occasionally the clatter of a spear or some other object against something else.
"Y'know," said Harl presently, "I'd like to believe that you comin' here, Link, is meant, or something. I've been getting pretty discouraged, with things seemin' to get worse all the time. Time was, the old folks say, when uffts was polite and respectful and did what they was told and took thank-you gifts and was glad to've done a human a favor. But nowadays they won't work for anybody without a agreement of just how much beer they're goin' to get for doin' it. And the old folks say there used to be unduplied cloth an'
stuff that was better than we got now. And knives was better, an' tools was better, and there was lectric and machines and folks lived real comfortable. But lately it's been gettin' harder an' harder to get uffts to bring in greenstuff, an' they want more an' more beer for it. I tell you, it ain't simple, bein' a Householder these days! You got people to feed an' clothe, and the women fuss and the men get sour and the uffts set back and laugh, and make speeches to each other about how much smarter they are than us. I tell you, Link, it's time for something to happen, or things are goin' to get just so bad we can't stand them!"