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"See. Come on. Well look at them after lunch. I tell you what. We'll bring them fruit. Anything'll eat fruit."
Together they trotted up the rise, Red, as usual, in the lead.
FIVE.
The Astronomer said, "You think the noise was their s.h.i.+p landing?"
"Don't you think it could be?"
"If it were, they may all be dead."
"Perhaps not." The Industrialist frowned.
"If they have landed and are still alive, where are they?"
"Think about that for a while." He was still frowning.
The Astronomer said, "I don't understand you."
"They may not be friendly."
"Oh no. I've spoken with them. They've--"
"You've spoken with them. Call that reconnaissance. What would their nest step be? Invasion?"
"But they only have one s.h.i.+p, sir."
"You know that only because they say so. They might have a fleet."
"I've told you about their size. They-"
"Their size would not matter if they have hand weapons that may well be superior to our artillery."
"That is not what I meant."
"I had this partly in mind from the first." The Industrialist went on. "It is for that reason I agreed to see them after I received your letter. Not to agree to an unsealing and impossible trade, but to judge their real purposes. I did not count on their evading the meeting."
He sighed and added, "I suppose it isn't our fault. You are right in one thing, at any rate. The world has been at peace too long. We are losing a healthy sense of suspicion."
The Astronomer's mild voice rose to an unusual pitch and he said, "I will speak. I tell you that there is no reason to suppose they can possibly be hostile. They are small, yes, but that is only important because it is a reflection of the fact that their native worlds are small. Our world has what is for them a normal gravity, but because of our much higher gravitational potential, our atmosphere is too dense to support them comfortably over sustained periods. For a similar reason, the use of the world as a base for interstellar travel, except for trade in certain items, is uneconomical. And there are important differences in chemistry of life due to the basic differences in soils. They couldn't eat our food or we theirs."
"Surely all this can be overcome. They can bring their own food, build domed stations of lowered air pressure, devise specially designed s.h.i.+ps."
"They can. And how glibly you can describe feats that are easy to a race in its youth. It is simply that they don't have to do any of that. There are millions of worlds suitable for them in the Galaxy. They don't need this one which isn't."
"How do you know? All this is their information again."
"This I was able to check independently. I am an astronomer, after all."
"That is true. Let me hear what you have to say then while we walk."
"Then, sir, consider that for a long time our astronomers have believed that two general cla.s.ses of planetary bodies existed. First, the planets which formed at differences far enough from their stellar nuclei to become cool enough to capture hydrogen. These would be large planets rich in hydrogen, ammonia, and methane. We have examples of these in the giant outer planets. The second cla.s.s would include those planets formed so near the stellar center that the high temperature would make it impossible to capture much hydrogen. These would be smaller planets, comparatively poorer in hydrogen and richer in oxygen. We know that type very well since we live on one. Ours is the only solar system we know in detail, however, and it has been reasonable for us to a.s.sume that these were the only two planetary cla.s.ses."
"I take it then that there is another."
"Yes. There is a super-dense cla.s.s, still smaller, poorer in hydrogen than the inner planets of the solar system. The ratio of occurrence of hydrogen-ammonia planets and these super-dense water-oxygen worlds of theirs over the entire Galaxy- and remember that they have actually conducted a survey of significant sample volumes of the Galaxy, which we, without interstellar travel, cannot do-is about three to one. This leaves them several million super-dense worlds for exploration and colonization."
The Industrialist looked at the blue sky and the green-crowned trees among which they were making their way. He said, "And worlds like ours?"
The Astronomer said softly. "Ours is the first solar system they have found which contains them. Apparently the development of our solar system was unique and did not follow the ordinary rules."
The Industrialist considered that. "What it amounts to is that these creatures from s.p.a.ce are asteroid dwellers."
"No, no. The asteroids are something else again. They occur, I was told, in one out of eight stellar systems, but they're completely different from what we've been discussing."
"And how does your being an astronomer change the fact that you are still only quoting their unsupported statements?"
"But they did not restrict themselves to bald items of information. They presented me with a theory of stellar evolution which I had to accept and which is more nearly valid than anything our own astronomy has ever been able to devise, if we except possible lost theories dating from Beforethewars. Mind you, their theory had a rigidly mathematical development and it predicted just such a galaxy as they describe. So you see, they have all the worlds they wish. They are not land-hungry. Certainly not for our land."
"Reason would say so, if what you say is true. But creatures may be intelligent and not reasonable. Our forefathers were presumably intelligent, yet they were certainly not reasonable. Was it reasonable to destroy almost all their tremendous civilization in atomic warfare over causes our historians can no longer accurately determine?" The Industrialist brooded over it. "From the dropping of the first atom bomb over the Eastern Islands of the Sun-I forget the ancient name-there was only one end in sight, and in plain sight. Yet events were allowed to proceed to that end."
He looked up, said briskly, "Well, where are we? I wonder if we are not on a fool's errand after all."
But the Astronomer was a little in advance and his voice came thickly. "No fool's errand, sir. Look there."
SIX.
Red and Slim had trailed their elders with the experience of youth, aided by the absorption and anxiety of their fathers. Their view of the final object of the search was somewhat obscured by the underbrush behind which they remained.
Red said, "Holy smokes. Look at that. It's al s.h.i.+ny silver or something."
But it was Slim who was really excited. He caught at the other. "I know what this is. It's a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p. That must be why my father came here. He's one of the biggest astronomers in the world and your father would have to call him if a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p landed on his estate."
"What are you talking about? Dad didn't even know that thing was there. He only came here because I told him I heard the thunder from here. Besides, there isn't any such thing as a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p."
"Sure, there is. Look at it. See those round things. They're ports. And you can see the rocket tubes."
"How do you know so much?"
Slim was flushed. He said, "I read about them. My father has books about them. Old books. From Beforethewars."
'Huh. Now I know you're making it up. Books from Beforethewars!"
'My father has to have them. He teaches at the University. It's his job."
His voice had risen and Red had to pull at him. "You want them to hear us?" he whispered indignantly.
"Well, it is, too, a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p."
"Look here, Slim, you mean that's a s.h.i.+p from another world."
"It's got to be. Look at my father going round and round it. He wouldn't be so interested if it was anything else."
"Other worlds! Where are there other worlds?"
"Everywhere. How about the planets? They're worlds just like ours, some of them. And other stars probably have planets. There's probably zillions of planets."
Red felt outweighed and outnumbered. He muttered, "You're crazy!"
"All right, then. I'll show you."
"Hey! Where are you going?"
"Down there. I'm going to ask my father. I suppose you'll believe it if he tells you. I suppose you'll believe a Professor of Astronomy knows what-"
He had scrambled upright.
Red said, "Hey. You don't want them to see us. We're not supposed to be here. Do you want them to start asking questions and find out about our animals?"
"I don't care. You said I was crazy."
"Snitcher! You promised you wouldn't tell."
"I'm not going to tell. But if they find our themselves, it's your fault for starting an argument and saying I was crazy."
"I take it back then," grumbled Red.
"Well, all right. You better."
In a way, Slim was disappointed. He wanted to see the s.p.a.ce-s.h.i.+p at closer quarters. Still, he could not break his vow of secrecy even in spirit without at least the excuse of personal insult.
Red said, "It's awfully small for a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p."
"Sure, because it's probably a scout s.h.i.+p."
"I'll bet Dad couldn't even get into the old thing." So much Slim realized to be true. It was a weak point in his argument and he made no answer.
Red rose to his feet; an elaborate att.i.tude of boredom all about him. "Well, I guess we better be going. There's business to do and I can't spend all day here looking at some old s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p or whatever it is. We've got to take care of the animals if we're going to be circus folks. That's the first rule with circus folks. They've got to take care of the animals. And," he finished virtuously, "that's what I aim to do, anyway."
Slim said, "What for, Red? They've got plenty of meat. Let's watch."
"There's no fun in watching. Besides Dad and your father are going away and I guess it's about lunch time."
Red became argumentative. "Look, Slim, we can't start acting suspicious or they're going to start investigating. Holy smokes, don't you ever read any detective stories? When you're trying to work a big deal without being caught, it's practically the main thing to keep on acting just like always. Then they don't suspect anything. That's the first law-"
"Oh, all right"
Slim rose resentfully. At the moment, the circus appeared to him a rather tawdry and shoddy subst.i.tute for the glories of astronomy, and he wondered how he had come to fall in with Red's silly scheme.
Down the slope they went, Slim, as usual, in the rear.
SEVEN.
The Industrialist said, "It's the workmans.h.i.+p that gets me. I never saw such construction."
"What good is it now?" said the Astronomer bitterly. "There's nothing left. There'll be no second landing. This s.h.i.+p detected life on our planet through accident. Other exploring parties would come no closer than necessary to establish the fact there there no super-dense worlds existed in our solar system."
"Well, there's no quarreling with a crash landing."
"The s.h.i.+p hardly seems damaged. If only some had survived, the s.h.i.+p might have been repaired."
"If they had survived, there would be no trade in any case. They're too different. Too disturbing. In any case-it's over."
They entered the house and the Industrialist greeted his wife calmly. "Lunch about ready, dear?"
"I'm afraid not. You see--" She looked hesitantly at the Astronomer.
"Is anything wrong?" asked the Industrialist. "Why not tell me? I'm sure our guest won't mind a little family discussion."
"Pray don't pay any attention whatever to me," muttered the Astronomer. He moved miserably to the other end of the living room.
The woman said in low, hurried tones, "Really, dear, Cook's that upset. I've been soothing her for hours and honestly I don't know why Red should have done it"
"Done what?" The Industrialist was more amused than otherwise. It had taken the united efforts of himself and his son months to argue his wife into using the name "Red" rather than the perfectly ridiculous (viewed youngster-fas.h.i.+on) name which was his real one.
She said, "He's taken most of the chopped meal."
"He's eaten it?"
"Well, I hope not. It was raw."