Archive.fm

Science Fiction - Daily Short Stories

Missing Link - Frank Herbert

Listen Ad Free https://www.solgood.org - Listen to hundreds of audiobooks, thousands of short stories, and meditative sounds.

Duration:
45m
Broadcast on:
02 Aug 2024
Audio Format:
mp3

(cheerful music) Looking for excitement? Chumba Casino is here. Play anytime, play anywhere. Play on the train, play at the store, play at home, play when you're bored. Play today for your chance to win and get daily bonuses when you log in. So what are you waiting for? Don't delay. Chumba Casino is free to play. Experience social gameplay like never before. Go to Chumba Casino right now to play hundreds of games, including online slots, bingo, slingo, and more. Live the Chumba Life at chumbakassino.com. BGEW room, no purchase necessary, void work prohibited by law. See terms and conditions, 18 plus. - Hey, your job. Do you ever have to deal with a nose roller? How about a snub bully? Well, if you're installing a new conveyor belt system, dealing with the different components can sound like you're speaking a foreign language. Luckily, you've got a team ready to help. Granger's technical product specialists are fluent in maintenance, repair, and operations. So whenever you want to talk shop, just reach out. Call, click Granger.com, or just stop by. Granger, for the ones who get it done. - Missing Link by Frank Herbert. The romantics used to say that the eyes were the windows of the soul. A good alien, xenologist might not put it quite so poetically, but it can, if you're sharp, read a lot in the look of an eye. We ought to scrape this planet clean of every living thing on it. Matter-dombo, Stetson, section chief of investigation and adjustment. Stetson paced lend and control bridge of his scout cruiser. His footsteps grated on a floor that was at the rear wall of the bridge during flight. But now the ship rested on its tail fins, all 400 glistening red and black meters of it. The open ports of the bridge looked out on the jungle roof of Jaina III, some 150 meters below. A butter yellow sun hung above the horizon, perhaps an hour from setting. Clean as an egg, he barked. He paused in his round of the bridge, glared out the starboard port, spat into the fire blackened circle that the cruiser's jets had burned from the jungle. The I.A. section chief was dark haired, gangling with large head and big features. He stood in his customary slouch, a stance not improved by the sack like patched blue fatigues. Although on this present operation, he raided the flag of a division admiral. His fatigue is carried, no insignia. There was a general unkempt straggling look about him. Louis Orne, junior I.A. field man with a maiden diploma, stood at the opposite port, studying the jungle horizon. Now and then he glanced at the bridge control console, the chronometer above it. The big trans-light map of their position tilted from the opposite bulkhead. A heavy planet native, he felt vaguely uneasy on this Jaina III, with its gravity of only seven-eighths Terran standard. The surgical scars on his neck where the micro-communication's equipment had been inserted, itched, maddeningly. He scratched. "Ha!" said Stetson. "Paw, letitians!" A thin black insect with shell-like wings flew in Orne's port, settled in his close-cropped red hair. Orne pulled the insect gently from his hair, released it. Again it tried to land in his hair, he ducked. It flew across the bridge out the port beside Stetson. There was a thick-muscled no-fat look to Orne, but something about his blocky, off-centered features suggested a clown. "I'm getting tired of waiting," he said. "You're tired, ha!" A breeze rippled the tops of the green ocean below them. Here and there, red and purple flowers jetted from the verter, bending and nodding like an attentive audience. "Just look at that blasted jungle," barked Stetson. Them and their stupid orders. A cowbell tinkled on the bridge-control console. The red light above the speaker grid began linking. Stetson shot an angry glance at it. "Yeah, how?" "Okay, Stets, orders just came through. We use Plan C," Tom Go says, "to brief the fieldman and jet out of here." Did you ask them about using another fieldman? Orne looked up attentively. The speaker said, "Yes," they said, "We have to use Orne because of the records on the Delphinus." "Well then, will they give us more time to brief him?" Negative, its crash priority, Tom Go expects to blast the planet anyway. Stetson glared at the grid, those fat-headed, lard-bottom, pig-brained politicians. He took two deep breaths, subsided, "Okay, tell them we'll comply." One more thing, Stet, "What now?" "I've got a confirmed contact." Instantly, Stetson was poised on the balls of his feet alert. "Where?" "About ten kilometers out," section AAB6. "How many?" "A mob?" "You want, I should count them." "No, what are they doing?" "Making a beeline for us." "You better get a move on." "Okay." "Keep us posted." "Right." Stetson looked across at his junior fieldman. "Orn, if you decide you want out of this assignment, you just say the word, I owe back you to the hilt." "Why should I want out of my first field assignment?" "Listen, and find out." Stetson crossed over to a tilt-locker behind the big trans-light mat, hauled out a white cover-all uniform with gold insignia, tossed it to Orn, "Get into these while I brief you on the map." "But this is an R&R unit," began Orn, "Get that uniform on your ugly frame." "Yes, sir," Admiral Stetson, "Sir, right away, Sir, but I thought I was through with the old rediscovering re-education when you dashed me off the Hamil into the I.A., Sir," he began changing from the I.A. blue to the R&R white. Almost as an afterthought, he said, "Sir." A wolfish grin cracked Stetson's big features, "I'm so happy you have the proper attitude of subservience toward authority," Orn zipped up the cover-all uniform, "Oh, yes, sir, sir." "Okay, Orn, pay attention," Stetson gestured at the map with its green, superimposed grid squares. "Here we are. Here's that city we flew over on our way down. You will head for it as soon as we drop you. The place is big enough that if you hold a course roughly northeast, you can't miss it." "Where?" "Again," the call bell rang, "What's at this time, how," Bart Stetson, "They've changed to plan H. Stet, new orders cut. Five days?" "That's all they can give us." Comgo says he can't keep the information out of High Commissioner Bull One's hands any longer than that. "It's five days for sure then." "Is this the usual R&R foul up?" asked Orn. Stetson nodded. "Thanks to Bull One and Company, we're just one jump ahead of catastrophe. But they still pump the bourgeois into the rah-rah boys back at dear old Unigalactica." "You're making light of my revered alma mater," said Orn. He struck a pose. "We must reunite the lost planets with our centers of culture and industry and take up the glorious onward march of mankind that was so brutally 'can' it?" Stetson. "We both know we're going to rediscover one planet too many some day. Rim war all over again. But this is a different breed of fish. It's not. Repeat. Not. A rediscovery." Orn sobered. "Alien?" "Yes." "A-L-I-E-N." "A never before," contacted Culture. That language you were force-fed on the way over. That's an alien language. It's not complete. All we have off the minis. And we excluded data on the natives because we've been hoping to dump this project. And nobody the wiser. "Holy mazoo!" Twenty-six days ago, an I.A. search chip came through here, had routine mini-sneaker. Look at the place. When he combed in his net of sneakers to check the tapes and films, low and behold, he had a little stranger. One of theirs? No, it was a mini off the Del Finis rediscovery. The Del Finis has been unreported for eighteen standard months. Did it crack up here? We don't know. If it did, we haven't been able to spot it. She was supposed to be way off in the Balladine system by now. But we've something else on our minds. It's the one item that makes me want to blot out this place and run home with my tail between my legs. "Weva!" Again the call bell chimed. "Now what?" roared Stetson into the speaker. "I've got a mini over that mob's debt. They're talking about us. It's a definite raiding party. What armament! Too gloomy in that jungle to be sure, the infra beams out on this mini. It's like hard pellet rifles of some kind might even be off the Del Finis. Can you get closer? Wouldn't do any good? No light down there. And they're moving up fast. Keep an eye on them, but don't ignore the other sectors," said Stetson. "You think I was born yesterday?" Marked the voice from the grid. The contact broke off with an angry sound. "One thing I like about the IA," said Stetson. "It collects such even-tempered types. He looked at the white uniform onorn, wiped a hand across his mouth as though he tasted something dirty." "Why am I wearing this thing?" asked Orn. "Disguise." "But there's no mustache," Stetson smiled without humor. "That's one of IA's answers to those fat, keistered politicians. We're setting up our own search system to find the planets before they do. We've managed to put spies in key places at R&R. Any touchy planets are spies' report. We divert the files." Then what? Then we look into them with bright boys like you disguised as R&R fieldmen. "Goody, goody. And what happens if R&R stumbles on to me while I'm down there playing patty cake? We disown you." But you said an IA ship found this joint. It did. And then one of our spies in R&R intercepted a routine request for an agent instructor to be assigned here with full equipment. Designed by our first contact officer, name a "distant mmm" of the Delphinus. But the Del--yeah, missing. The request was a forgery. Now you see why I'm mostly for rubbing out this place. Who dared forage such a thing unless he knew for sure that the original FC officer was missing. Or dead. "What the jumped up mazoo are we doing here, Stett?" asked Gorn. Alien calls for full contact team with all the--it calls for one planet buster bomb. Buster in five days. Unless you give them a white bill in the meantime. High Commissioner Bull One will have word of this planet by then. If China 3 still exists in five days, can't you imagine the fund the politicians will mamma mia? We want this planet cleared for contact or dead before then. I don't like this, Stett. "You don't like it." "Look," said Oren, "there must be another way. Why, when we teamed up with the Eleronoids, we gained five hundred years in the physical sciences alone. Not to mention the--the Eleronoids didn't knock over one of our survey ships first. What if the Delphinus just crashed here and the locals picked up the pieces? That's what you're going in to find out, Oren, but answer me this. If they do have the Delphinus, how long before a tool using race could be a threat to the galaxy? I saw that city they built, Stett. They could be dug in within six months, and there'd be no--yeah." Oren shook his head, but think of it, two civilizations that matured along different lines. Think of all the different ways we'd approach the same problems. The lever that'd give us for you sound like a uniglactical lecture. Are you through marching arm and arm into the misty future, Oren took a breath? Why is a freshman like me being tossed into this dish? You'd still be on the Delphinus masterless as an R&R fieldman. That's important if you're masquerading. Am I the only one? I know I'm a recent convert, but you want out? I didn't say that. I just want to know why I'm because the big domes fed a set of requirements into their iron monsters. Your card popped out. They were looking for somebody capable, dependable, and expendable. Hey, that's why I'm down here briefing you instead of sitting back on a flagship. I got you into the I.A. Now you listen carefully, if you push the panic button on this one without cause, I will personally play you alive. We both know the advantages of an alien contact, but if you get into a hotspot and call for help, I'll dive this cruiser into that city to get you out. Oren swallowed. Thanks, Stett. Then we're going to take up a tight orbit out beyond us will be five transports full of I.A. Marines and a class nine monitor with one planet buster. You're calling the shots, God help you. First, we want to know if they have the Delphinus and if so, where it is. Next, we want to know just how warlike these goons are. And we control them if they're bloodthirsty. What's their potential? In five days? Not a second more. What do we know about them? Not much. They look something like an ancient Terran chimpanzee, only with blue fur. Face is hairless, pink skinned, stets and snap to switch. The translate map became a screen with a figure frozen on it, like that. This is life size. Just like the missing link they've always hunted for, said Oren. Yeah, but you've got a different kind of missing link. Vertical slip hugles in their eyes, said Oren. He studied the figure. It had been caught from the front by a mini sneaker camera. About five feet tall, the stance was slightly bent forward. Long arms, two vertical nose slits, a flat lipless mouth, receding chin, four fingered hands. It wore a wide belt from which dangled neat pouches and what looked like tools, although their use was obscure. There appeared to be the tip of a tail protruding from behind one of the squat legs. Behind the creature towered the fairy spires of the city they'd observed from the air. Tails, asked Oren? Yeah, there are boreal, not a road on the whole planet we can find. But there are lots of vine lanes through the jungles, steps in space hardened, match that with the cities advanced as that one. Slave culture, probably. How many cities have they? We've found two. This one and another one on the other side of the planet, but the other one's a ruin. A ruin? Why? You tell us. Lots of mysteries here. What's the planet like? Justly jungle. There are polar oceans, lakes and rivers. One low mountain chain follows the equatorial belt, about two-thirds around the planet. But only two cities. Are you sure? Reasonably so. It'd be pretty hard to miss something the size of that thing we flew over. It must be 50 kilometers long and at least 10 wide. Swarming with these creatures, too. You've got a zone count estimate the places the city's population at over 30 million. Wheeee, those are tall buildings, too. We don't know much about this place, Horn, unless you bring them into the fold, there will be nothing but ashes for our archaeologists to pick over. Seems a dirty shame. I agree, but the call bell jangled. Stetson's voice sounded tired. Yeah, how? That mob's only about five kilometers out. We've got Horn's gear outside on the disguised air sled. We'll be right down. Why a disguised sled, asked Horn? If they think it's a ground buggy, they might get careless when you most need an advantage. We could always scoop you out of the air, you know. What are my chances on this one, Stetson's shrugged. I'm afraid they're slim. These goons probably have the del finest, and they want you just long enough to get your equipment and everything you know. Hey, there. It is Ryan Seacrest with you. You want to make this summer unforgettable? Join me at Chumbak Casino. It's the summer's hottest online destination. They are rolling out the red carpet with an amazing welcome offer just for you. So don't wait. Dive in now and play hundreds of social casino games for free. Your chance to redeem real prizes is just a spin away. Can you join me? Sponsored by Chumbak Casino. No purchase necessary. V.G.W. Group. Void were prohibited by law. 18 plus. Terms and conditions apply. Refasati. According to our best guests, if you're not out in five days, we blast. Horn cleared his throat. Want out? Estetson? No. Use the backdoor rule, son. Always leave yourself away out. Now let's check that equipment the surgeons put in your net. Estetson put a hand to his throat. His mouth remained closed, but there was a surf hissing voice in orange ears. You read me? Sure I can. No, hiss the voice touched the mic contact. Keep your mouth closed. Just use your speaking muscles without speaking. Ornobade. Okay, said Stetson. You come in loud and clear. I ought to. I'm right on top of you. There'll be a relationship over you all the time, said Stetson. Now, when you're not touching that mic contact this rig, I'll feed us what you say, and everything that goes on around you too. We'll monitor everything. Got that? Yes. Stetson held out his right hand. Good luck. I meant that about diving in for you. Just say the word. I know the word too, Sidorn. Help. Gray mud floor and gloomy aisles between monstrous bluish tree trunks. That was the jungle. Only the barest week glimmering of sunlight penetrated to the mud. The disguise sled, its paragraph units turned off, lurched and skidded around buttress roots. Its headlights swung and wild arks across the trunks and down the mud, aerial creepers. Like looping vines of them swung down from the towering forest ceiling. A steady drip of condensation spattered the windshield, forcing Ornn to use the wipers. In the bucket seat of the sled's cab, Ornn fought the controls. He was plagued by the vague, slow-motion floating sensation that a heavy planet native always feels in lighter gravity. It gave him an unhappy stomach. Things skipped through the air around the lurching vehicle, flitting and darting things. Insects came in twink-hones siphoned toward the headlights. There was an endless chittering, whistling, talk, talk, talking in the gloom beyond the lights. Stetson's voice hissed suddenly through the surgically implanted speaker. How's it look? Alien? Any sign of that mob? Negative. Okay, we're taking off. Behind Doorn there came a deep rumbling roar that receded as the scout cruiser climbed its jets. All other sounds hung suspended in the after-silence, then resumed. The strongest first, and then the weakest. A heavy object suddenly arked through the headlights, swinging on a vine. It disappeared behind a tree. Another. Another. Guzzly shadows with mine pendulums on both sides. Something banged down heavily under the hood of the sled. Ornn braked to a creaking stop that shifted the load behind him, found himself staring through the windshield at a native of Jaina III. This native crouched on the hood, a marked 20 exploding pellet rifle in his right hand directed at Ornn's head. In the abrupt shock of meeting, Ornn recognized the weapon. Standard issue to the Marine Guards on all R&R survey ships. The native appeared the twin of the one Ornn had seen on the Translight screen. The four-fingered hand looked extremely capable around the stock of the Mark 20. Slowly, Ornn put a hand to his throat, press the contact button. He moved his speaking muscles, just made contact with the mob. One on the hood now has one of our Mark 20 rifles aimed at my head. The surfacing of Stetson's voice came through the hidden speaker. Asked us to come back, negative, stand by, he looked cautious rather than hostile. Ornn held up his right hand, palm out. He had a second thought, held up his left hand, too. Universal symbol of peaceful intentions, empty hands. The gun muzzled lowered slightly. Ornn called into his mind the language that had been hit no forced into him. Oh, Chiro? No, that meant the people. Ah, and he had the heavy, fricative greeting sound. "For we, Grazi," he said. The native shifted to the left, answered in pure, unaccented, high-galactist. "Who are you?" Ornn fought down a sudden panic. The lipless mouth had looked so odd, forming the familiar words. Stetson's voice hissed. "Is that the native speaking galactisse?" Ornn touched his throat. "You heard him," he dropped his hand, said, "I am Louis Ornn of Rediscovery and Reducation. I was sent here at the request of the first contact officer on the Delphinus Rediscovery." "Where is your ship?" demanded the giant. It put me down and left. Why? It was behind schedule for another appointment. Out of the corners of his eyes, Ornn saw more shadows dropping to the mud around him. The sled shifted as someone climbed onto the load behind the cab. The someone scuttled agilely for a moment. The native climbed down to the cab side step, opened the door. The rifle was held at the ready. Again, the lipless mouth formed galactisse words. "What do you carry in this vehicle?" The equipment every R&R field man used is to help the people of a rediscovered planet improve themselves. Ornn nodded at the rifle, "Would you mind pointing that weapon some other direction? It makes me nervous." The gun muzzle remained unwaveringly on Ornn's middle. The native's mouth opened, revealing long canines. "Do we not look strange to you?" "I take it there's been a heavy mutational variation in the humanoid norm on this planet, Sidorn." "What is it?" "Hard radiation?" "No answer." "It doesn't really make any difference, of course," said Ornn. "I'm here to help you." "I am to noob." "High-pass chief of the Grazi," said the native. "I decide who is to help," Ornn swallowed, "Where do you go?" demanded to noob. "I was hoping to go to your city, is it permitted?" A long pause while the vertical slip pupils of to noob's eyes expanded and contracted. It is permitted. Stetson's voice came through the hidden speaker, "All bets off, we're coming in after you. That mark twenty is a final straw. It means they have the Delphinus for sure." Ornn touched his throat, "No, give me a little more time." "Why, I have a hunch about these creatures. What is it?" "No time now, trust me." Another long pause in which Ornn and to noob continued to study each other. Presently Stetson said, "Okay, go ahead as planned, but find out where the Delphinus is. If we get that back, we pull their teeth." "Why do you keep touching your throat?" demanded to noob. "I'm nervous," said Ornn. "Guns always make me nervous. The muzzle lowered slightly. Shall we continue on to your city?" asked Ornn. He wet his lips with his tongue. The cab light on to noob's face was giving the gin and eerie sinister look. "We can go soon," said to noob. "Will you join me inside here?" asked Ornn. "There's a passenger seat right behind me." To noob's eyes moved, cat-like, right, left. "Yes," he turned, barked in order to the jungle gloom, then climbed in behind Ornn. "When do we go?" asked Ornn. "The great sun will be down soon," said To noob. "We can continue as soon as Chiranachiruso rises." "Chiranachiruso, our satellite, our moon," said To noob. "It's a beautiful word," said Ornn. "Chiranachiruso, in our tongue it means the limb of victory," said To noob. "By its light we will continue," Ornn turned, looked back at To noob. "Do you mean to tell me that you can see by what light gets down here through those trees?" "Can you not see?" asked To noob. Not without the headlights. "Our eyes differ," said To noob. He bent toward Ornn, peered. The vertical slit pupils of his eyes expanded and contracted. "You are the same as the others." "Oh, on the dofinus?" "Pause." "Yes." Presently, a greater gloom came over the jungle, bringing a sudden stillness to the wildlife. There was a chittering commotion from the natives in the trees around the sled. To noob shifted behind Ornn. "We may go now," he said, "slowly, to stay behind my scouts." "Right," Ornn eased the sled forward around an obstructing route. "Silence while they crawled ahead. Around them shapes flung themselves from vine to vine. I admired your city from the air," said Ornn. "It is very beautiful." "Yes," said To noob. "Why did you land so far from it? We didn't want to come down where we might destroy anything." "There is nothing to destroy in the jungle," said To noob. "Why do you have such a big city?" asked Ornn. "Silence." "I said, 'Why do you--you are ignorant of our ways,' said To noob. Therefore I forgive you. The city is for our race. We must breed and be born in the sunlight. Once, long ago, we used crude platforms on the tops of trees. Now only the wild ones do this," said Stetson's voice hissed in orange ears, easy on the sex line boy. "That's always touchy. These creatures are our viperous. Sex glands are apparently hidden in that long fur behind where their chins ought to be." Two controls, the breeding sites, controls our world," said To noob. Once there was another city, we destroyed it. "Are there many wild ones?" asked Ornn. "Fewer each year," said To noob. "That's how they get their slaves," said Stetson. "You speak excellent galak-tis," said Ornn. The high-path chief commanded the best teacher, said To noob. "Do you two know many things, Ornn? That is why I was sent here," said Ornn. "Are there many planets to teach?" asked To noob. "Very many," said Ornn. "Your city, I saw very tall buildings of what do you build them?" "In your tongue, glass," said To noob. The engineers of the Delphinus said it was impossible. As you saw, they were wrong. "A glass-blowing culture," his Stetson, had it explained a lot of things. Slowly the disguise sleds crept through the jungle. Once a scout swooped down into the headlights and waved, Ornn stopped on To noob's order, and they waited almost ten minutes before proceeding. "Wild ones?" asked Ornn, perhaps, said To noob. A glowing of many lights grew visible through the giant tree trunks. It grew brighter as the sled crept through the last of the jungle, emerged in cleared land at the edge of the city. Ornn stared upward in awe. The city fluted and spiralled into the moonlit sky. It was a fragile appearing lysory of bridges, winking dots of light. The bridges wove back and forth from building to building until the entire visible network appeared to be one gigantic do-glittering web. "Oh, that was glass," murmured Ornn. "What's happening?" had Stetson. Ornn touched his throat contact. "We're just into the city clearing, proceeding toward the nearest building." "This is far enough," said To noob. Ornn stopped the sled. In the moonlight he could see armed giants all around. The buttress pedestal of one of the buildings loomed directly ahead. It looked taller than had the scout cruiser in its jungle landing circle. To noob leaned closer to Ornn's shoulder, "We have not deceived you, have we, Ornn." "Huh? What do you mean?" "You have recognized that we are not mutated members of your race." Ornn swallowed. "Into his ears came Stetson's voice." Better admit it. "That's true," said Ornn. "I like you, Ornn," said To noob. "You shall be one of my slaves. You will teach me many things." "How did you capture the Delphinus?" asked Ornn. "You know that, too. You have one of the rifles," said Ornn. "Your race is no match for us, Ornn. In cunning, in strength, in prowess of the mind, your ship landed to repair its tubes, very inferior ceramics in those tubes." Ornn turned, looked at To noob in the dim glow of the Cab light. "Have you heard about the I.A., To noob?" "I.A., what is that?" There was a wary tenseness in the giant's figure. It's his mouth open to reveal the long canines. "You took the Delphinus by treachery?" asked Ornn. "They were simple fools," said To noob. "We are smaller, thus they thought us weaker." The Mark 20's muzzle came round to center on Ornn's stomach. "You have not answered my question. What is the I.A.? I am of the I.A.,," said Ornn. "Where have you hidden the Delphinus? In the place that suits us best," said To noob, "in all our history there has never been a better place." "What do you plan to do with it?" asked Ornn. "Within a year we will have a copy with our own improvements. After that you intend to start a war?" asked Ornn. "In the jungle the strong slay the weak until only the strong remain," said To noob. "And then the strong prey upon each other," asked Ornn. "That is a quibble for women," said To noob. "It's too bad you feel that way," said Ornn. "When two cultures meet like this, they tend to help each other. What have you done with the crew of the Delphinus?" "They are slaves," said To noob, "those who still live. Some resisted. Others objected to teaching us what we want to know. He waved his gun muzzle." "You will not be that foolish, will you Ornn?" "No need to be," said Ornn. "I have another little lesson to teach you. I already know where you've hidden the Delphinus." "Go boy," his Stetson, "where is it?" "Impossible bark to noob." "It's on your moon," said Ornn. "Dark side. It's on a mountain on the dark side of your moon." To noob's eyes dilated, contracted. "You read minds. The I.A. has no need to read minds," said Ornn. "We rely on superior mental prowess. The Marines are on their way," his Stetson, "we're coming in to get you. I'm going to want to know how you guessed that one. You are a weak fool like the others," greeted To noob. "It's too bad if you formed your opinion of us by observing only the low grades of the R&R," said Ornn. "Easy, boy," his Stetson, "don't cook a fight with him now. Remember, this race is our boreal. You probably strong as an ape. I could kill you where you sit," graded To noob. "You write 'finish' for your entire planet if you do," said Ornn. "I'm not alone. There are others listening to every word we say. There's a ship overhead that could split open your planet with one bomb, wash it with molten rock. It would run like the glass you used for your buildings." "You are lying. We'll make you an offer," said Ornn. "We don't really want to exterminate you. We'll give you limited membership in the Galactic Federation until you prove you're no menace to us." "Keep talking," his Stetson. "Keep him interested." "You dare insult me," growled To noob. "You'd better believe me," said Ornn. "We," Stetson's voice interrupted him, "got it, Ornn. They caught the Delphinus on the ground right where you said it'd be. Blew the tubes off it. Marines now mopping up. It's like this," said Ornn. "We already have recaptured the Delphinus. To noob's eyes went instinctively skyward. Except for the captured arm in it, you still hold. You obviously don't have the weapons to meet us," continued Ornn. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be carrying that rifle off the Delphinus. If you speak the truth, then we shall die bravely," said To noob. "No need for you to die," said Ornn. "Better to die than be slaves," said To noob. "We don't need the Doern. We—I cannot take the chance that you are lying," said To noob. "I must kill you now." Ornn's foot rested on the air-sled control pedal. He depressed it. Instantly the sled-shot skyward, heavy-geez, pressing them down into the seats. The gun into Noob's hand was slammed into his lap. He struggled to raise it. To Ornn, the weight was still only about twice that of his home planet of charge on. He reached over, took the rifle, found the safety belts, bound to Noob with him. Then he eased off the acceleration. "We don't need slaves," said Ornn. "We have machines to do our work. We'll send experts in here, teach you people how to exploit your planet, how to build good transportation facilities, how—show you how to mine your minerals, how to—and what do we do in return?" whispered To noob. "You could start by teaching us how you make superior glass," said Ornn. "I certainly hope you see things our way. We really don't want to have to come down here and clean you out. It'd be a shame to have to blast that city into little pieces." To Noob wilted, presently he said, "Send me back. I will discuss this with our council." He stared adorn, "You IAs are too strong. We did not know." In the wardrobe of Stetson's scout cruiser, the lights were low. The leather chair is comfortable. The green vage table set with a decanter of hocar brandy and two glasses. Ornn lifted his glass, sipped the liquor, smacked his lips. For a while there, I thought I'd never be tasting anything like this again. Stetson took his own glass. Comgo heard the whole thing over the general monitor net, he said, "Do you know you've been brevited to the senior field ban?" "Ah, they've already recognized my sturling worth," said Ornn. The woolfish grin took over Stetson's big features. Your field men last about half as long as New Year's, he said, "Mortality is terrific." "I might have known," said Ornn. He took another sip of the brandy. Stetson flicked on the switch of the recorder beside him. "Okay, you can go ahead any time." "Where do you want me to start?" "First, how do you spot right away where they'd hidden the Delphinus?" "Easy." To Noob's word for his people was grotsey. Most races call themselves something meaning the people. But in his tongue that's ochiral, grotsey, wasn't on the translated list. I started working on it. The most likely answer was that it had been adopted from another language and rent enemy. And that told you where the Delphinus was? No, but it fitted my hunch about these ginens. I'd kind of felt from the first minute of meeting them that they had a culture like the Indians of ancient Terra. Why? They came in like a primitive raiding party. The leader dropped right onto the hood of my sled, an act of bravery no less. Counting coup, you see? I guess so. Then he said he was a high-path chief. That wasn't on the language list either. But it was easy. Rader chief. There's a word in almost every language in history that means raider and drives from ward for road, path, or highway. "Highway, man," said Stetson. "Rade itself," said Orn, an ancient Terran language corruption of road. "Yeah, yeah, but where's all this translation griff put? Don't be impatient. Glass-blowing culture meant they were just out of the primitive stage, that we could control." Next, he said, "Their moon was Chirana Chiruso, translated as a limb of victory. After that, it just fell into place. How? The vertical slipped pupils of their eyes. Doesn't that mean anything to you? Maybe. What's it mean to you? Night hunting predator accustomed to dropping upon its victims from above. No other type of creature ever has had the vertical slit. And Tanub said himself that the Delphinus was hidden in the best place in all their history. History? That'd be a high place. Dark, likewise. Ergo. A high place on the dark side of their moon. "I'm a pie-eyed Griepus," whispered Stetson. Orn grinned, said, "You probably are, sir. The end." With the Lucky Land Slugs, you can get lucky just about anywhere. Daily Beloved, we're gathered here today. Has anyone seen the bride and groom? Sorry. Sorry. We're here. We were getting lucky in the limo when we lost track of time. No. Lucky Lane Casino, with cash prizes that add up quicker than a guest registry. In that case, I pronounce you lucky. Play for free at LuckyLand Slugs.com. No purchase necessary. BGW Grabboid were prohibited by law, 18-plus terms and conditions apply. If you're a facilities manager at a warehouse and your HVAC system goes down, it can turn up the heat, literally. But don't sweat it. Granger has you covered. Granger offers over a million industrial-grade products for all your operations, including warehouse HVAC maintenance. And even better, they offer access to experts and fast delivery, so you and your warehouse can both keep your cool. Call 1-800-GRANGER, click Granger.com, or just stop by. Granger, for the ones who get it done.