AT THE END of the hall, the gray glass doors parted and slid soundlessly into the walls. Todd and the others waited, mouths agape, as their hosts entered the landing bay. For all their height and girth, they made little sound when they moved.
“Stars!” whispered Frail, his voice sounding hollow through the sides of his plastic helmet. “Mother always said I’d meet someone bigger’n me.”
The first of the aliens to enter, a bulky creature covered except for its face and the pads of its forepaws with thick, long fur of light honey-brown, stood just over two meters in height. Its face had a square muzzle with a black, leathery nose, black-fleshed lips, and two deep-set, eyes the color of red wine protected by thick, smooth-skinned eyelids fringed at the edges with more honey hair. Todd was amazed to see that its facial features were arranged in the same way as a Human’s or a Hrruban’s.
Its shoulders sloped from a thick neck toward a huge rib cage, and downward over a powerful lower body supported by very short but thick legs. It wore a pouch-laden belt and ornately decorated collar cut from a scaly hide of some kind. Todd thought it resembled snakeskin—but what a snake! If the size of the scales was any clue, it had been equivalent to a Great Big Momma Snake. The alien blinked at the visitors curiously before standing aside to make way for the two other aliens. The being behind it, identical in appearance but black-brown in color, was nearly two and a half meters tall. It too wore a collar, this one more elaborate than the first alien’s, consisting of woven strips punched and stamped with complex designs. From one side of the collar depended a loop of decorated hide that circled the upper part of the big alien’s arm. Todd wondered if the attachment might serve some specific purpose, concealing miniaturized devices, or was it a mark of rank, or both?
The third alien, of the same dark brown as the tallest being, but with a white patch on the throat that covered part of its chest like a bib, was just over one meter high and wore only a simple belt and collar of scaly leather.
With plenty of hairy fur to protect them from weather, the aliens had as little need for clothing as the smoother-coated Hrrubans. The three moved forward with commendable grace, until they were within ten meters of the party. Then they stopped in a line facing the landing party, regarding their visitors with calm, wine-colored eyes.
At first, Todd was taken aback by their sheer size. These creatures were terrifying, as if animal giants out of a children’s story book had come to life. With that thought, their appearance struck Todd as hilariously funny. He felt a childish urge to break into giggles.
“It’s the Three Bears!” he whispered under his breath to Hrriss. “I sure hope they don’t want me to tell them a story.”
“I do not undrrrstand,” Hrriss whispered. Inside his helmet, his ears were laid back tight against his round skull.
“Earth fairy tale. They look just like bears, creatures that were found on Earth up to the last century—ugh! Tell you later.” He stopped talking as Ken elbowed him in the ribs.
“Shush! You notice? They don’t want to appear aggressive,” Ken said. He smiled widely at the beings, and let the set of his shoulders hang loosely. “They’re waiting for us to close the distance.”
“Wait a minute,” Greene protested, grabbing Ken’s arm. “Consider the size of them!”
“They’re friendly,” Ken said, calmly taking the man’s hand away. “They’ve brought one of their young along to show us they mean us no harm—in fact, that they trust us. You’d never bring a baby where you intend to be the aggressor, nor where you expect threats.”
“That’s a baby?” the medic asked, agog.
“It must be,” Ken assured them. “Look at the way it’s acting.”
Todd understood completely what his father meant. The small alien was more awkward than the large ones, and kept looking up at the tallest one for reassurance. “That’s his—or her—cub.”
“Well, I don’t know . . .” Frill murmured, unsure. He swallowed nervously. The medical man stood with his mouth hanging open while his telemetry gear went wild making recordings.
“Keep your mind on the job,” Greene said peevishly. “Come along!”
“Yes, Commander,” the two navy men replied. The group moved closer to the aliens, and stopped three meters away as the medic faltered once more. The three creatures watched them calmly, waiting.
Ken steeled himself. “I feel inferior, inhibited, and intimidated, as Kiachif would say if he was here. The sheer size of them! One of us has got to take action.” He swallowed, and put a hand on Todd’s arm. “Well, as the first and most successful xenolinguist in Earth history, we’ll see what sense I can make out of whatever noise they make. Wish me luck, boys.”
“You can do it, Dad,” Todd said firmly. He clasped his father’s arm, imparting confidence.
“Find out everything you can about them,” Greene added. “Tell them as little as possible about us.”
Todd shook his head pityingly at Greene. The man had absolutely no idea how long it took to establish the most superficial linguistic exchange.
Ken opened his arms wide in a gesture he hoped projected friendly intent, and walked right up to the furred trio.
“Greetings, and welcome to the skies of Doonarrala,” he said, speaking as cheerfully and enthusiastically as he could, though his heart was pounding in his throat. “We come in peace. We hope you do, too.”
Echoing his gesture, the three aliens opened their upper limbs and stretched their flexible muzzles up and back so that their teeth were showing: sharp, white stalactites almost as long as a human hand.
“Fardles! Now, those are fangs!” Jilamey whispered. His face was pale but his eyes glittered in fascination.
* * *
“We must be very careful, Captain,” the Gringg linguist said, glancing upward at her. He was nervous about the possibility of disease, though he had been assured by the ship’s physician that an alien species was unlikely to carry germs that could infect them. Still, he, like all the others aboard, were volunteers. If it cost their lives to discover the truth about this species, so be it. The linguist swept the hold with one more nervous glance, to reassure himself that there was nothing there to discourage these small interesting beings. “One of them approaches. Remember there is certain knowledge we must not reveal yet.”
“I know what to do. Is it a female or a male, Eonneh?” Captain Grzzeearoghh asked, looking Ken up and down curiously. “These creatures are all so skeletal! And so small and weak!”
“It is difficult to know. But since some of them wear garments under those protective shells and some do not, that is clearly the demarcation. The unclad one’s body configuration slightly resembles our males, so that must make the tall ones female.”
“So they have a female linguist or first speaker,” Grzzeearoghh noted. “How interesting. We shall have to converse much on the divisions of labor among gender once we have established communication. But she moves like a Gringg, slowly and carefully. I am glad. I find hurry so disconcerting.” The captain raised her head and called out a command that made the aliens at the other end of the hall jump. “Rrawrum? Have you sent the message notifying Homeworld that we have been contacted and are carefully following procedure?”
“I am getting it done now, Captain.” Rrawrum’s voice echoed overhead in the cargo bay, a little loudly to Grzzeearoghh’s thinking. She would have to ask the technician to correct the sound level when she had a moment. It was making their visitors nervous. Every care must be taken to put them at their ease. The strangers should have no cause to view them as a threat. My cub should help to reassure these small aliens, the captain thought.
“Tell them also that we are beginning contact.”
“As you wish, Captain.”
“Mama,” Weddeerogh interrupted, as Ken stopped a meter away. “What is she doing?”
“She is identifying herself, I think,” the Captain said, patting her cub on the head. “A pity their voices are so soft. I was not paying attention!”
* * *
Ken activated the recording unit at his side and put his hands to his chest. “My name is Ken Reeve. Ken Reeve.” He extended one hand slowly toward the largest “bear,” and pointed. “And you?” He gave the words the strongest interrogative tone he could.
The massive head swung toward him, and the rubbery lips receded behind the teeth again in a passable reflection of the Human’s smile. Ken was impressed by the flexibility of the aliens’ faces, and their ability to imitate expressions. Todd was right: they did possess a superficial resemblance to Earth bears. Their coloring, shape, and musculature were very much like that of the ancient species Ursa. They seemed to be made for defense, armed with heavy claws and a thick, loose skin. And they were so unconsciously powerful. If they proved to be unfriendly, they could tear him apart without trouble. The likeness to bears was not exact, of course. These beings had tails about the length and thickness of his forearm, covered with shaggy hair. What purpose did the appendages serve? Balance? Defense?
He studied the faces closely. They had been growling among themselves. He had clearly heard distinguishable syllables, some of them repeated. The creatures had long, agile tongues, suitable for pronouncing the complexities of a well-developed language. It was disconcerting to stand next to beings who made him feel so insignificantly small, like a child among giants.
The aliens must have sensed his discomfiture, for all three rolled back off their feet and onto their tailbones. It was a graceful gesture, ending with the body being braced solidly with hunched-up rear legs and outspread tail. Their lower limbs were short in comparison to the length of the body, but they were heavy and solid, made for balance, not speed.
“I am Ken Reeve,” he said again, pointing to himself as he hunkered down in his best approximation of their new posture. He wondered if he should ask Hrriss to display his tail. “And you?” He extended his hand toward them.
The largest of the aliens roared again, and waved a thick claw at him, turning it palm down and drawing it from the floor up to its head. Seeing that he didn’t understand, it leveled out the claw at its eye, and drew an invisible line out toward Ken.
“What are they doing, Dad?” Todd demanded.
He smiled, delighted. “Oh, I get you. You’re trying to equalize things. They want me to remain standing up, so that we’re all at eye level,” he said over his shoulder. “Ken Reeve,” he indicated once more to the aliens.
“Grzzeearoghh,” the largest replied slowly and carefully in its basso profundo voice. It sounded like the revving of an engine.
“Errizz-eer-oh?” Ken repeated uncertainly, trying to duplicate the growl.
“Grzzeearoghh,” the large one said complacently, wrapping its forepaws over its belly.
The gesture made it look even more like the holos of Earth bears, and Todd suppressed a chuckle. Hrriss shuddered, his ears halfway back.
“Their voices make me uncomfortable,” he said in Low Hrruban. “Do they always speak at such volume? Spoken so loudly, the deep notes reverberate harshly on my ear bones.” He shook his head as if to relieve the pressure. “Hrrubans do not raise their voices unless they wish to attract attention or if they are angry. Could we have made them angry?”
“How could we? I don’t think they’re upset, or they wouldn’t be looking so comfortable,” Todd said. “And with the size of those rib cages, I’d be surprised if they spoke in soprano voices.”
Ken tried the alien’s multisyllabic name over and over again, until the large one smiled at him. “I think I’ve got it, chaps,” he called. “Meet Grzzeearoghh. Looks like he’s in charge here.”
Todd and Hrriss cheered. The aliens looked surprised but not displeased at the noise, regarding their visitors with polite curiosity. Beside Todd, the Spacedep men seemed to be making themselves as insignificant as possible, except Greene, who stood boldly pointing his recorder at the aliens. Jilamey was taking in the whole situation with awed joy.
“We’re communicating already! It’s too fascinating!”
Grinning at Landreau’ s genuine enthusiasm, Ken pointed at the medium bear. “Who?”
While he was learning the complexities of pronouncing “Eonneh,” the cub rolled off its haunches and waddled toward him.
“Look out!” shrieked Lauder, backing away. The young medic’s face was pale.
“What for?” Ken asked, breaking off his language lesson. “Hi, there, fella,” he said as the cub bent to sniff his shoes. While he waited patiently, the cub ran its shiny black nose up his suit leg, sneezing briefly as the acrid stench of the transparent plastic tickled its nasal passages. But it continued its olfactory examination, shoving its nose into Ken’s armpit and down his arm to his gloved hand. It sneezed again. Ken threw a shrug back toward his party. The cub meant him no harm. It was only curious, like any youngster. When they all unsuited, the bears were likely to get a few aromatic surprises.
The cub threw both of its heavy upper paws up onto Ken’s shoulders and dragged his face down so that it could look at him. It seemed puzzled by the helmet. Ken rapped on the plastic bell with a fist, then waggled his head back and forth inside, trying to show that it was an artificial covering. The cub let out a series of pleased grunts that sounded like stentorian giggles, and let go of him. Ken hunkered down and extended his hand. The youngster sniffed it and squealed. He noticed that the black nostrils of the other two were twitching, but more discreetly. Scent must be important to them; a fact worth noting. The trouble was that humans did not smell like plastic suiting.
“You’re a real sweet little critter. What’s your name?” Ken asked the delighted cub. “Ken Reeve,” he said, carefully enunciating the two syllables as he pointed to himself. “You?” he asked, pointing to the cub.
“Weddeerogh,” said the youngster in an unexpected baritone, then scooted shyly back behind the largest alien.
“Aw,” Jilamey said. “Acts just like a kid, too.”
“I guess,” Frill said, finding his voice at last. “If you like kids that big.”
“Gringg,” the biggest one said suddenly, indicating itself and the two others. “Gringg.”
“Gringg?” Ken asked. “Grr-ing?”
“Reh.” The big alien tilted its head to one side and let out a short grunt. Ken fancied it gave him a look of approval.
“Hayuman,” he said, pointing to himself. “Hayuman.”
“Ayoomnnn.”
“Good.” He walked over to stand beside Hrriss. “Hrruban.”
The red eyes followed him carefully. “Rrrrrooobvvnnn,” Grzzeearoghh said, growling the r’s rather than rolling them as a Hrruban would.
“Close,” Ken said approvingly. “Good for you, little fellah. And we’re all Doonarralans.” He gave the leader a big nod and a smile, which it copied, as he indicated Todd, Hrriss, and himself. “Well, now we know what we all are. Let’s start on things.” He knelt down, and patted the floor. “What do you call this?” Ken asked the big bear. “We call it rllama. Rllama.”
“What are you doing, teaching it Hrruban?” Frill demanded, indignant. “You should teach it Terran.”
“One language at a time,” Ken warned him. “We need a lingua franca, and both of our peoples speak Middle Hrruban. The Gringg can learn the niceties of Terran and High Hrruban once they’ve mastered this one. Now pipe down, unless you want to do this for me?”
“No, I sure don’t,” Frill said quickly, backing off.
“Urrrlllah. Ma,” the alien intoned.
“We’re making progress. Rllama,” Ken said, rolling the r, and keeping his mouth wide open so it could see the way he rolled his tongue. The little one watched him from the shelter of its parent’s body, trying to match his facial expressions and rolling its long tongue. Ken laughed.
“Do you know, I think I’m the first sentient alien they’ve ever encountered.”
“How can you make an assumption like that, Reeve?” Greene demanded. He looked slightly sick.
“This all seems to be new to them,” Ken replied. “They’re not acting as if they’re anticipating what I’m going to do. And I think they’re enjoying it.”
* * *
“Weddeerogh, you have no need to be shy,” Grzzeearoghh said, turning her head over her shoulder to beam at her offspring. “This is becoming most interesting. Will you go and get writing materials for us? Now we are starting to work with vocabulary, I don’t want to miss anything. This is a very important moment in Gringg history.”
“Yes, Mama,” the cub said, with one more peek at Ken. “What funny hands she has, with no claws. I do not like the smell of that stuff she wears. I would like to smell her. I hope her own skin smells better.”
“She wears a protective covering, showing concern for our health and hers. I admire that,” Grzzeearoghh said. “I did not know what to expect from another race, certainly not such scrupulous consideration. And we know we must act with caution. Now, please go.”
“Yes, Mama.” On all fours, the cub scurried toward the doors, which opened and closed behind him.
“Rllama,” the strange female said.
“Rrrllahma,” Grzzeearoghh intoned. Her pronunciation seemed to delight the visitor. “I do believe we are getting somewhere. Good! I wish the female’s friends were more calm. One of the females and the male seem quite at home, but I think those others may faint. And that female with its limb stuck out holding the little device seems most uncomfortable.”
“I must confess to a certain amount of nervousness, too, Captain,” Eonneh admitted. “They are a feeble-looking race, are they not? No fur to speak of. I am almost afraid to move for fear of hurting them. We have all been shown how important it is to give the appearance of being no threat to any new race we encounter. And such amazing dimorphism between sexes. You’d think they were almost separate species. When the male speaks, his voice is so shrill it hurts my ears.”
“Here it is, Mama,” Weddeerogh said, galloping in through the blast doors with a tablet and stylus in his paw.
“Good, dear. Give it to Eonneh. Write this down, Eonneh. Their word for floor is ‘rrrllama.’ ”
The Gringg male put the pad of thin but solid tiles down between his feet and hooked the two loops of the stylus over the first and second claws of his right upper paw. He sounded out the word to himself carefully before beginning to inscribe it. In Gringg culture, writing anything down with a living hand made it official. Gringg males made the best record-keepers, poets, librarians, even artists; they also mastered the theoretical sciences to forward development. Eonneh was unusually skilled in all the arts, and was considered a credit to his gender, though he was too modest to allow such compliments to his face. The females, larger by ten to thirty percent, organized, and exercised the practical arts, such as all forms of engineering, and tended to take the lead in exploration. In Eonneh’s opinion, Grzzeearoghh was an excellent captain, and was handling the situation perfectly. The World Congress which chose her as their envoy to any possible sentients had made the best possible choice.
As the alien female looked on with interest, Eonneh made the characters for a short growl, followed by a lingual extension, then a nasal hum. The accents that went above and below the characters indicated the subordinate vowel sounds.
* * *
“I’m enjoying this,” Ken said, coming close to the scribe for a good look at what Eonneh was doing. “Their written language is beautiful: a minor work of art if this is any sample. Nothing from even ancient Terran civilizations comes close to it.” Showing his camera first to the two adult Gringg, he walked around and pointed it down at the pad to record the scribe’s work. “I think he’s trying to get it down in a phonetic fashion. That’s what I’d do. Well—” He snapped another shot. “This is their attempt at ‘floor.’ ”
“Can you tell how they phoneticize, Dad?” Todd asked.
“Hardly,” Ken said with a laugh. “Not after just one word. It’s going to take a while to get anywhere useful.”
“Don’t worry,” Hrriss assured him. “Our hosts have settled in for the linguistic siege.”
Eonneh scribed busily at the big pad, with Jilamey behind him to watch how the handscript was made. The pen contained free-flowing ink that the scribe carefully controlled to make thick and thin strokes on the smooth surface of the tile. Landreau was clearly impressed by the skill required, for each pictograph was complex and beautiful.
“What’s that?” he asked, pointing down at the character that Eonneh was patiently drawing. “Er, how do you say it? Aaah? Bbbb?”
“Vv.”
“And that little one?” Jilamey moved his finger to a mark like an accent that went over the top right corner of the squarish character.
“Ooo,” Eonneh said carefully, glancing up over his shoulder at the Ayoomnnn.
“Really? This must be the way you spell ‘Hrruban,’ ” Jilamey replied. “And that?” He indicated another mark, this time set below and to the side of one of the elaborate pictographs.
“Hhhh.”
“That’s not a vowel,” he protested.
“That’s an aspirate,” Ken said, coming over to look. “So the different notations are divided into hard consonant sounds and vowels? Good job, Landreau.”
“Huh?” Jilamey frowned in query.
“Is it all like this?” Ken said to Grzzeearoghh, pantomiming the handwritten panel onto the nearest round screen.
“Be careful, Reeve,” Greene called. He felt down his hip for his side arm, and remembered with regret that it had been left behind on the Hamilton. If these gigantic aliens got out of control, he had nothing but his skills at unarmed combat with which to protect the Human of the party.
The captain rose to her full height and padded over to the console. “The skinny Ayoomnnn female is both intelligent and curious,” she told Eonneh. “See this, Genhh Rhev,” she said, pulling up a textfile on the screen.
Ken, recognizing the slightly mangled pronunciation of his name, followed her to the console. As he watched, fascinated, the computer laid down lines of the complicated characters first, followed by the small marks above and below the lines. As he watched, fascinated, the computer laid down lines of complicated characters first, followed by the small marks above and below the lines. As Grzzeearoghh sounded it out slowly to him, he realized his guess was right.
“They’re going to be a little confused by written Terran,” Ken noted. “If they’re used to aspirates and vowels as separate notation, it’s going to take them a while to get used to seeing the characters all the same size and on the same line. It’ll be interesting to see how quickly they cope with such a difference.”
“It’s primitive,” Greene said dismissively. “Inscribing information by hand is slow and inefficient. Technology like this must be a fluke.”
“Oh, I don’t think so, Commander,” Jilamey said from his post behind Eonneh. “Even on Earth, the ancient art of calligraphy is still practiced and held in esteem. It seems perfectly normal to me. I spend a lot of time in the Artists’ Corridor, where there’s a good deal of reverence for the old forms.”
Greene snorted. “You can’t attribute Human characteristics to aliens who may turn out to be dangerously barbaric.”
“I wish this could go faster,” Ken said, sighing, as he studied the round screen. “It could take us an age to put together a working vocabulary.” He went over a number of items in the bay, asking for the aliens’ words, and giving them the Middle Hrruban equivalents.
“And what’s this?” he asked, pointing at the Spacedep shuttle.
“Va’arrel,” said Grzzeearoghh.
“Va’arrel?”
“Reh.”
“Good,” Ken said. “Well, what do you call the big ship?” He gestured in a wide circle, indicating the vessel around them. The big alien followed his hand with its eyes.
“Va’arrel,” the Gringg repeated.
“This is the same? Va’arrel?” Ken pointed at the shuttle. “Va’arrel?” He circled his arm.
Grzzeearoghh seemed to be listening carefully for something, and was mildly disappointed not to hear it. The alien shook its large head from side to side. “Va’arrel.”
“But that’s what I said,” Ken insisted. “What am I missing? Va’arrel,” he said again, pointing to the shuttle. The alien sat back with paws folded. “Va’arrel.”
“Morra,” the Gringg corrected him. “Va’arrel.”
“There is no difference,” Frill complained.
“Wait a second,” Ken said. “I thought I got a sense of something there. It’s possible I’m not capable of hearing the difference between two similar sounding words, and yet there is one, isn’t there, old fellow?”
The dark-red eyes were sympathetic but encouraging. Ken grinned. “Your voices go so far down I wonder if you’re dropping past the registers that we Hayumans can hear. Or perhaps it’s a somatic element I’m missing. Of course, I could just plain be pronouncing it wrong. Only practice will help with that. Let’s collect some more examples of Gringg speech to take home with us.”
To speed things up, Todd and Hrriss volunteered to work with the other Gringg to teach one another vocabulary, leaving them with plenty of data when the Doona party finally left.
Ken, with the loudest voice, found himself talking to Grizz, as he nicknamed the Gringg captain. The big alien approved the shorter form with a dropped jaw and a discernible twinkle in its eye. In its slightly nasal voice, the elder Reeve’s name came out as Genhh.
Eonneh, Hrriss, and Dodh, as the Gringg pronounced Todd’s name, were already working out the pronunciation of more words, and writing them down on the pad. Frill, who was beginning to become interested in spite of his initial apprehensions, hung over their shoulders, kibitzing. The navy medic, still nervous but growing bolder, circled around. Greene maintained his distance, making the occasional comment into his recorder, still prepared to defend himself if necessary. Jilamey hunkered down on the floor in front of the cub, with his knees akimbo.
“Hi there, little guy. I’m Jilamey.”
“Chilmeh!” the cub echoed happily, and reached out to push the Human’s knee companionably. Jilamey pushed back, and found himself rolling over the floor in the crowing Gringg’s powerful embrace. His helmet hit the ground with a clonk.
Greene ran after them and interposed himself, on guard, between the alien and the Human. The largest of the Gringg tensed, watching carefully.
“Be careful, Landreau,” Greene cautioned the younger man, who lay gasping and breathless with laughter on the deck. With one arm, he pulled Landreau to his feet. “You have no idea what your actions may mean to these aliens.”
“Aw, he’s playing, Commander,” Landreau said. The cub’s tail swished from side to side like that of a large dog, and Jilamey ruffled the fur between its ears.
“It’ll think you’re a child, too.”
Jilamey pouted. “Oh, don’t ascribe Hayuman assumptions to him, Commander. We’re learning a lot about each other, aren’t we?” he said to Weddeerogh, who blinked shyly at Greene.
“I’d like to bring some of these fellows home with us,” Ken said to the navy medic, “but I’m afraid they might not survive on Doona. We don’t know anything about their physiognomy, nor they ours. What are your impressions?”
“I wish I could get some samples of skin, blood, and hair,” Lauder replied. “I could tell you a lot more if I could do microscopic analyses.”
“When we can speak a little more of their language, we’ll ask,” Ken said. “It’s presumptuous to try before they can understand just exactly what we want. And why.” He turned to Frill, whose attention seemed to be wandering. “How about you? Any ideas?”
“Sorry, sir,” Frill said, reddening slightly. “My stomach’s rumbling. I, uh, couldn’t eat before we left. Hope they don’t misconstrue the sound.”
Ken smacked him on the back. “Good idea. Food! We’ll offer them some of our rations, let them analyze them, see if our food’s safe for their insides. There’s got to be emergency packs in the shuttle.”
“There should be, Dad,” Todd said, “if it was stocked according to regulations.”
“Naturally the shuttle was prepared according to regulations,” Frill said, regarding father and son with horror. “You’re not proposing to give them our food, are you?”
“Why not?” Ken asked reasonably. “It will give them an idea if our biosphere is compatible with theirs. They appear to be carnivorous, with those teeth—maybe even omnivorous. Be interesting to see if their comestibles are at all similar to ours.”
During this discussion the Gringg withdrew to have a conference of their own.
“Our visitors seem willing both to teach and learn,” Grizz said thoughtfully. “I feel it is safe to risk the second step. Move slowly and give them no cause for suspicion.”
“As you wish, Captain,” Eonneh replied, watching Genhh Rhev expostulating with the rest of her party. “I’ll go get what is required.” Grizz shouldered him companionably as he left the room.
“Go quickly, my mate. If this works out as we hope, you’ll have plenty of material for an epic poem, with yourself as the hero!”
Todd, Hrriss, and Commander Frill went back to the shuttle. According to Spacedep regs, emergency gear, including “rations ready to eat,” or RRE’s, were always kept in a locker beneath the co-pilot’s couch. The ring latches securing the cubby door were frequently stiff, but a quick twist and tug by the powerful Frill opened the door without trouble.
“Don’t give it all to them,” Frill asked, eyeing the RRE’s as Todd stacked them into a heap. “Leave me one, won’t you?”
“You won’t faint dead away on us, will you, Frail?” Todd grinned, and got an answering smile from the Spacedep officer.
“Not now,” Frill answered, a little sheepishly. “Not as long as I get something to eat.”
“Don’t worry,” Todd said with complete understanding. “I’m a big feeder myself. You can be the one to taste it in front of them so they can see that we warrant this food as safe.” Willingly, Frill picked out his favorite from the sealed packs, and split up the rest to carry between himself and Hrriss.
“Todd,” Ken called as they emerged from the shuttle. “Our friends here had the same idea.”
Todd grinned. Piled high between Ken and Grizz was a quantity of wrapped and unwrapped goods. Eonneh and another medium-sized bear, whose coat was colored a dark, dusty cocoa, had Ensign Lauder by the console, showing him a program that displayed changing views of complex designs that Todd couldn’t distinguish from where he stood. As he closed the distance, he imagined that he recognized the designs.
“You know, if those were on our computers,” he suggested, “I’d think they were molecular diagrams. But of what?”
“The proteins, or whatever’s in these goods?” Ken asked. He pantomimed to Grizz, pointing to the items on the floor and back again at the screen. “Is that the substance of this?” The big ursine roared softly, a triumphant sound. “I guess that’s what he said.”
“Reh!” Grizz acknowledged, crossing huge paws across his chest once more.
“How about it?” Todd asked Lauder. “Would a molecule like that be safe for Hayumans and Hrrubans to eat?”
“No doubt about it,” Lauder replied, showing him his pad screen. “It’s a common protein chain. The others are complex carbohydrates, pretty similar to stuff we eat. It’s strange, because their digestive systems are very different from either of our two races.”
Greene frowned. “In what way?”
“More efficient, I’d say. My scans, though I can’t absolutely warrant the accuracy on alien biosystems, pick up a kind of ‘afterburner’ below the stomach, just after the pyloric valve. Well, that’s what it’d be on one of us. For their size, I bet one of them doesn’t eat much more than one of us does.”
“Speak for yourself,” muttered Frill, disconcerted.
Todd slapped him on the back and escorted him to the Gringg leader. “Now, Commander, you want to demonstrate the purity and deliciousness of one of our RRE’s for our hosts here?” he asked. Collecting a nod from Frill, he and Hrriss placed their armloads of packages in front of Grizz, next to the heaps of Gringg offerings. “These are examples of our food. We’re giving them to you for your examination. First, we’ll eat a sample.” He accompanied his speech with pantomime, which he hoped was comprehensible to the aliens.
As the Gringg watched with interest, Frill eagerly tore open the pressed-plastic packet, then looked dismayed as the difficulty became obvious.
“The helmet,” he said, glancing at Todd for help. “How’m I going to eat wearing a helmet?”
Todd and Hrriss looked at each other and then at Ken.
“Well, one of us is going to unseal sooner or later,” Todd said. He attacked the grommets around the base of his helmet, twisting the fastenings loose.
Greene sprang forward and grabbed his wrist. “What do you think you’re doing, Reeve? Attempting suicide? If you choose to take foolish risks, I can recommend to Lauder here that we have you brought back to the cruiser in restraints to wait until a psychiatrist sees you.”
“I never take foolish risks,” Todd said. He shook off the man’s hand. “The ensign here has already told us that if he encountered an atmosphere like this one planetside, he’d consider it safe. Isn’t that right, Ensign?”
Lauder, not eager to get into the middle of a battle between a renowned planetary leader and a formidable ranking officer, quickly nodded his head. Encouraged by Todd’s friendly smile, he added very timidly, “I’d think we were lucky, too, if the air on the Hamilton was this fresh, Commander.” The medic swallowed hard as Greene turned his stare upon him, but he didn’t recant.
“Therefore I consider the odds very much in my favor.” Todd unfastened the plastic bubble and took it off. In the same instant, Hrriss removed his own headgear, and both took a deep breath. There was a murmur of approval from the Gringg. Todd almost choked with nervousness as the warm air hit his lungs. The two of them waited, watching each other for signs of anoxia, wondering if they had made a mistake, each ready to slap the helmets back on.
One minute, two minutes, passed. There was no sound in the landing bay except for a mechanized hum deep in the heart of the giant ship. Todd could almost hear the sweat trickling down his back. It was hard to believe that only a couple of hours ago he had been sitting at the head of a tableful of voracious and self-seeking delegates who intended to ruin a special part of his planet to satisfy trade requirements. If he guessed wrong, if the data that the young medic had been carefully monitoring was incorrect, he could be about to die. Todd felt with every nerve-ending the touch of moving air on his skin. It was pleasantly warm. His lungs dragged it in and pushed it out. It took more of an effort than breathing usually did, but he was in a slightly heavier gravity than what he was used to. He was consciously tasting each breath for poisons, but there was only the cloying smell of recycled air and a musky, not unpleasant aroma, probably exuded by the Gringg.
He felt lightheaded. What was it they said? That after five minutes without oxygen one became irreversibly brain dead? Everyone was looking at them, expecting a reaction of some kind. Hrriss’s nostrils twitched, and his ears swivelled forward expectantly. Todd suddenly realized that he was holding his breath. If there’d been enough oxygen to sustain him for the last five minutes, the next breath should be fine, too. With a halfhearted laugh, he let go and sucked in a deep lungful of air. Nothing adverse had happened. He was alive. Hrriss was alive. They and the Gringg breathed the same sort of air.
“It’s all right.” Todd nodded at his friend, and they fell into one another’s arms. “Go ahead, Frill,” Todd said, as he and Hrriss pounded each other on the back in relief. Ken Reeve was smiling. “Lauder is right. Our atmospheres are at least compatible.”
“So they could live on our worlds, if they disposed of us,” Greene said, his eyes cold.
“Enough of that, Greene!” Todd said firmly. “There are no indications whatsoever that these creatures are aggressive. On the contrary, in fact! May Commander Frill assist me now with a food demonstration?”
Grudgingly, Greene gave the order. Frill saluted and began to undo the helmet fastenings.
Watching Todd and Hrriss all the while, the big Spacedep officer lifted off his helmet and put it on the floor beside him. He, too, took a few tentative breaths before relaxing.
“It’s real air!” he said simply, a grin spreading over his big face.
“This’ll cause speculation among the scientists,” Ken said. “Are all spacefaring races oxygen-breathers? Or do oxy-breathers tend to be pacific? There’s a theory in there someplace.” He took off his helmet, then peeled off his gloves. The baby Gringg toddled toward him again, this time chortling joyfully to itself that Genhh now exuded a totally different, and much more preferable scent—one compounded of many subtle smells. Ken was sniffed over from toe to crotch to pate.
With no hesitation, Jilamey removed his helmet. Timidly, with a glance at Greene for permission, Lauder opened his a crack, testing the air against what was in his rebreathers. Only Greene remained sealed in his protective gear, like a disapproving robot glaring at the others.
The Gringg, too, seemed to be happy with the removals, grunting low, pleased sounds to themselves, though only the littlest one made tactile, and nasal, contact.
As the Gringg watched with considerable interest, Frill consumed an RRE. He tore mouthfuls away from the bar of compressed protein, chewed, and swallowed them. The carbohydrate wafer crunched loudly in the metal-walled room, and the packet of fruit conserve went down with a slurp or two.
“Uh, see?” the officer said, twisting the packets into a little ball and tucking them into the empty box, a little uncomfortable to have his greed witnessed by such a crowd. “That’s good food. Not as good as fresh, but okay.”
“O-kaayy.” Grizz echoed the word.
Todd thought that the big alien understood. It signalled to Eonneh, who undid one of the sausage-shaped packets and ate the contents, patting his chest to indicate satisfaction when he had finished. Todd caught a whiff of his scent. Not too bad, he thought. It smelled a little like smoked snake.
“Here, try this one,” Todd said, pushing aside containers of tuna fish, Doona snake, bean curd, turkey, and cheese, to open one of his favorites. It was popcorn, in a self-heating hemispherical container. Cautioning the Gringg not to touch, he pulled the seal. The disk-shaped base started to glow. In a few seconds, the whole unit began to shake. Weddeerogh jumped, letting out a squeal of surprise, then hunkering down, getting as close as it dared to the twitching and bulging package. Todd grinned. Popcorn was not only food, but entertainment. Grizz watched more calmly while the silver dome unit expanded one pop at a time, until it had reached four times its original size. A small red spot appeared on the top of the dome, signalling that it was through cooking. Todd burst open the thin covering and took a handful of popcorn.
“See? This is really good.” He ate it piece by piece, crunching each between his teeth with obvious satisfaction.
“Goo-ood.” Using its long claws, the Gringg picked up a single puffed kernel and looked at it, a giant examining a grain of sand. Then it indicated to Ken that he should take the other Gringg rations, and sat, continuing to study the fluffy morsel of com.
“Great,” Ken exclaimed, collecting the bundles and putting some of them in his equipment pouch. Lauder, his hands shaking slightly, picked up an armload of the supplies and stowed them in his equipment carryall. “Thank you, Grizz. We’ll be happy to take these. Soon as we have a good close look, we’ll know if it’s safe for you to come back with us.” He bowed to Grizz and nodded to the others. “Thank you for letting us visit. We’d better get back, boys. The Admiral and the others will be going spare wondering what happened to keep us so long.”
“One more thing,” Greene said quickly, planting a hand on Ken’s shoulder. “Tell them they’ve got to keep their ship in this orbit. If they move, we’ll consider that an act of hostility, and we will attack.”
“Now, how do you expect me to explain that to them?” Ken demanded, fed up with the Spacedep commander acting the eternal wet blanket. “I don’t even know how to say ‘how are you?’ much less ‘stay put.’ ”
“Oh, draw them a picture,” Jilamey said impatiently. He knelt down beside Eonneh and held out a hand toward the Gringg’s two-finger stylus. “Can I borrow that?”
Surprised, the honey-colored alien put the drawing implement in his hand and pushed the tablet toward him. Jilamey whistled at the weight of the instrument, then fitted his fingers into the twinned loops. He drew a little circle on his hand with the point, and smiled up at Greene.
“Now, what kind of orbit do you want them to stay in?”
Glancing at the Admiral’s aide for permission, Commander Frill slumped down beside Jilamey, and looked up at the Gringg captain. “Draw Doona there,” he said to Jilamey, indicating the center of a blank tablet page. “Now, draw a big circle around it, far out, beyond the moons—better draw in the moons—and put their ship on the big circle. Boy, this is undignified,” he complained, looking up at Ken.
“Go on,” Ken encouraged him. “You’re doing fine.”
“Well,” Frill said, showing the tablet to Grizz. “This,” he said, following the circle around the planet, “is good. Uh—This”—he took the stylus from Jilamey and drew a tangential line leading away from the circle with an arrow—“er, is bad.” He crossed out the line. “This is bad, too.” Red to the ears, he drew in another tangent, this one leading inward toward Doonarrala, and crossed it out. “Do you understand? Stay on this orbit.” His finger traced the circle around and around.
“Reh!’ Grizz said, following his gesture. “Orrrbitttt. Nggh yaahrr mmmmonnya.” The Gringg showed a mouthful of long white teeth and black gums to indicate comprehension.
“Well done, Frill. Satisfied?” Ken asked Greene. “Again, Captain Grizz, our compliments. Until we meet again?” He bowed and turned away. Together, the party walked back toward the Spacedep shuttle.
For big creatures, the Gringg could move surprisingly fast. Eonneh and the strange bear who had brought in the Gringg rations waddled swiftly past them, and stood by the shuttle. The party stared at them, their initial fears returning.
“Now what is this?” Greene demanded, stopping at a distance from the ship. He felt again for his side arm and cursed Todd Reeve’s insistence on coming unarmed. “Are they preventing us from leaving? Are we prisoners?”
“Eonneh gerrvah,” the light-brown Gringg said, and indicated its companion. “Ghotyakh gerrvah aui’d.” The other, its rubbery mouth drawn back in the imitation of a human smile, waved at them and set a gentle paw down on the top of the shuttle.
“Quite the opposite,” Ken suggested, eyeing this gesture with amusement. Ghotyakh must be an engineer, if he pats spaceships like ponies. “I think they want to come with us as emissaries.”
“Impossible!” Greene was alarmed at the thought of Gringg loose on a Spacedep ship, or amuck in the colony itself.
“Not at all.” Ken glanced back at Grizz, who raised a giant snout in their direction. The intelligent, red-brown eyes were calm. “They’re showing that they trust us.”
“They could die from exposure to toxins or bacteria on Doona.”
Ken shook his head. “Obviously, Commander, they’re willing to take that chance. That’s something they need to learn from us, too: if both species can exist in the same biosphere. And I get the impression that if we don’t take them, we don’t leave.”
Jilamey blinked. “Who do we leave behind as volunteers? As our ambassadors?”
Ken grinned pointedly at his son. “Any volunteers?”
“Hrriss and I will stay,” Todd said quickly, barely beating out Hrriss’ call to remain.
“We are the logical choices,” the Hrruban agreed. “We already serve the diplomatic arm for both Hrruba and Earrth, as well as Doonarrala.”
“Wish I had your background in languages, Dad,” Todd said, “but I think we’ll get along.”
“I have all the faith in the galaxy in you two,” Ken said, and his eyes twinkled. “Good luck.”
Hrriss and Todd shook hands in turn with Ken, Jilamey, and the two Spacedep officers. Greene continued to look disapproving.
“You should return to the cruiser with us.”
“Not a good idea,” Todd said promptly. “The Gringg have trusted us with two of their people. They might take it amiss if we don’t reciprocate. Remember, it’s their initiative.”
“We shouldn’t take them aboard, not until the Admiral has cleared such an important decision.”
“Spacedep isn’t involved in this aspect of the encounter, Commander. Alreldep is!” Todd told him. “Hrriss and I are Alien Relations. Report that to the Admiral.”
* * *
“Two of our new friends are staying with us,” Grizz said contentedly, watching Dodh and Rrss stand by as the other Ayoomnnns entered their fragile little vessel. “We have much to ask them. Go in peace,” she called.
“Errrrungh!” The cub called out his farewell to his new friends before the shuttle door closed.
“Goodbye!” Ken called back, waving.
The cub let out squeals of glee. “Errrrungh! Gggbyyy!”
Just then the comunit in Todd’s helmet began to crackle. Todd picked it up and held it close enough to hear any message.
“Frill here, Reeve. If you can hear me, nod.” Todd obediently nodded. “We’ll keep sending on our way back to the Hamilton. Give some answer as long as you hear us. Okay?” Todd nodded. “If we can’t stay in touch, we’ll come back for you in twenty-four hours!”
Todd nodded vigorously, relieved.
The last sight Ken had of his son and the Hrruban who was nearly his second son was the two of them disappearing behind the gray glass doors with the dark-furred aliens. For a moment Ken was afraid, wondering if he had made a mistake leaving them behind.
It was a tight fit in the cabin with the two huge Gringg each spreading across two couches intended for one Human-size body. They were muttering excitedly to one another, their intelligent eyes scrutinizing all elements of the interior of the shuttle. Ken smiled to himself. The Gringg captain was probably having the same misgivings about sending two of his people with them.
“Good luck, son,” he said quietly as Frill lifted off the little shuttle from the launch circle.