The Four Visitors
"Somebody coming!" the lookout called.
Jed Hargraves dropped the shovel. Behind him the hiss of an electric
cutting torch and the whang of a heavy hammer went into sudden silence.
Back there, a hundreds yards away, they had already begun work on the
ship, attempting to repair the hole gouged in the stout magna steel of
the hull. They had heard the call of the lookout and were dropping tools
to pick up weapons. Jed's hand slid down to his belt to the compact
vibration pistol holstered there. He pulled the gun, held it ready in
his hand. Ron Val and Nielson did the same.
Vega, slanting downward, was near the western horizon. The grove was a
mass of shadows. Through the shadows something was coming.
"They're human!" Ron Val gasped.
Hargraves said nothing. His fingers tightened around the butt of the
pistol as he waited. He saw them clearly now. There were four of them.
They looked like--old men. Four tribal gray-beards out for a stroll in
the cool of the late afternoon. Each carried a staff. They were walking
toward the ship. Then they saw the little group that stood apart and
turned toward them.
"The teletron. Will you go get it, please, Ron Val?"
Nodding, the astro-navigator ran back to the ship. The teletron was a
new gadget, invented just before the expedition left earth. Far from
perfection as yet, it was intended to aid in establishing telepathic
communication between persons who had no common language. Sometimes it
worked, a little. More often it didn't. But it might be useful here. Ron
Val was panting when he returned with it.
"Are you going to talk to them, Jed?"
"I'm going to try."
The four figures approached. Hargraves smiled. That was to show his good
intentions. A smile ought to be common language everywhere.
The four strangers did not return his smile. They just stopped and
looked at him with no trace of emotion on their faces.
[Illustration: What strange thing was this? Who were these people and
what was their power?]
They looked human. They weren't, of course. Parallel evolution accounted
for the resemblance, like causes producing like results.
Nielson was watching them like a hawk. Without making an aggressive
move, the way he held his gun showed he was ready to go into action at a
moment's notice. Behind them, the ship was silent, its crew alert.
Hargraves bent to manipulate the complicated tuning of the teletron.
"I am Thulon," a voice whispered in his brain. "No need for that."
Jed Hargraves' leaped to his feet. He caught startled glances from Ron
Val and Nielson and knew they had heard and understood too. Understood,
rather. There had been nothing for the ears to hear.
"Thulon! No need for--_I understood you without_--"
Thulon smiled. He was taller than the average human, and very slender.
"We are natural telepaths. So there is no need to use your instrument."
"Uh? Natural telepaths! Well, I'm damned!"
"Damned? I cannot quite grasp the meaning of the word. Your mind is
radiating on an emotional level. Do you wish to indicate surprise? I
cannot grasp your thinking."
Hargraves choked, fought for control of his mind. For a minute it had
run away with him. He brought it to heel.
"What are you doing here?" Thulon asked.
* * * * *
Hargraves blinked at the directness of the question. They certainly
wasted no time getting down to business. "We--" He caught himself. No
telling how much they could take directly from his mind!
"We came from--far away." He tried to force his thoughts into narrow
channels. "We--"
"There is no need to be afraid." Thulon smiled gently. Or was there
wiliness in that smile? Was this stranger attempting to lure him into a
feeling of false security?
"I meant, what are you doing _here_?" Thulon continued. His eyes went
down to the ground.
There was only one shovel on the ground. One shovel was all there had
been in the ship. Thulon's glance went to it, went on.
There were three mounds. The soft mould had dug easily. It had all been
patted back into place. On the middle mound Ron Val had finished placing
a small cross that he had hastily improvised from the ship's stores.
Scratched in the metal was a name: Hal Sarkoff.
"We had an outbreak of buboes," Hargraves said. "That's a disease. Three
of our companions died and we landed here to bury them. We had just
finished doing this when you arrived."
"Died! Three of you died? And you hid them under these mounds?"
"Yes. Of course. There was nothing else we could--"
"You are going to leave them here in the ground!"
"Certainly." Hargraves was wondering if this method of disposing of the
dead violated some tribal taboo of this people. Different races disposed
of their dead in different ways. He did not know the customs of the
inhabitants of this world. "If we have offended against your customs, we
are sorry."
"No. There was no offense." Thulon blanketed his thoughts. Hargraves
could almost feel the blanket slip into place.
"You came in that ship?" Thulon pointed toward the vessel.
"Yes." It was impossible to conceal this fact.
"Ah." Thulon hesitated, seemed to grope through his mind for the exact
shade of expression he wished to convey. Hargraves was aware that the
stranger's eyes probed through him, measured him. "It would interest us
to examine the vessel. Would you permit this?"
"Certainly." Hargraves knew that Red Nielson jerked startled eyes toward
him.
"Jed!" Nielson spoke in protest.
"Shut up!" Hargraves snapped. His body and his mind was a mass of
tightly wound springs but his face was calm and his voice was suave. He
turned to Thulon. "I will be glad to take you through our ship. However,
I do not recommend it."
"No?"
"It might be dangerous, for you and your companions. We have had three
cases of buboes, resulting in three deaths. All of us have had shots of
immunizing serum and we hope we will have no more cases. However, the
germs are unquestionably present in the atmosphere of the ship. Since
you probably have no immunity to the disease, to breathe the tainted air
would almost certainly result in an attack. This disease is fatal in
nine cases out of ten. I therefore suggest you do not enter the ship. In
fact," Hargraves concluded, "I was about to say that it might not be
wise for you and your companions even to come near us, because of the
possibility that you might contract the disease."
* * * * *
Had he gotten the story over it? Was it convincing? Out of the corner of
his eyes he saw Ron Val glance at him. When he had said their companions
had died of buboes, Ron Val had looked as if he thought he was out of
his mind. Now Ron Val understood. "Good going, Jed," his glance seemed
to say.
"Hargraves--" This was Nielson speaking. His face was black.
"I suggest," said Jed casually, "that you let me handle this."
Nielson gulped. "Yes. Yes, sir," he said.
Thulon's companions had been paying attention to the conversation. But
all the time they were stealing glances at the ship. With half their
minds, they seemed to be listening to what was being said. But the other
half of their minds was interested in that silent ship hidden under the
trees. Were they merely curious, such as any savage might be? Or was
this group making a reconnaissance? Hargraves did not know. It did not
look like a reconnaissance in force.
"Do you really think we might contract this disease?" Thulon asked.
Hargraves shrugged. "I'm not certain. You might not. It would all depend
on the way your bodies reacted to the organism causing the disease."
"Under such circumstances, you show little consideration for our welfare
by bringing a plague ship to land here."
"We didn't know you existed. I assure you, however, that if you will
remain away from the ship until we have an opportunity to disinfect it
thoroughly, any danger to your people will be very slight. On the other
hand, if you wish to look our vessel over, to assure yourselves that we
are not a menace to you--which we are not--I shall be glad to take you
through the ship."
Was he drawing it too fine? He spoke clearly and forcefully. The words,
of course, would carry no meaning. But the thought that went along with
them would convey what he wanted to say.
"Ah." The thought came from Thulon. "Perhaps--" Again the blanket came
over his mind and Hargraves had the impression Thulon was conferring
with his companions.
The silent conference ended.
"Perhaps," Thulon said. "It would be better if we returned to visit you
tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow."
He bowed. Without another word he and his silent companions turned and
began to walk slowly away. Not until he saw the little group slipping
away into the dusk did Jed realize he had been holding his breath.
"Hargraves!" Nielson's voice was harsh. "Are you going to let them get
away? You fool! That sphere came from this world. Have you forgotten?"
"I have forgotten nothing, I hope."
"But you offered to take them through the ship! They would have seen how
badly damaged she is."
"Of course I offered to take them through the ship, then made it
impossible for them to accept. We can't stick up 'No Trespassing' signs
here. This is their world. We don't know a damned thing about it, or
about them. We can't run and we don't want to fight, if we can help it.
Furthermore, Nielson, I want you to learn to control your tongue.
Remember that in the future, will you?"
For a second, Nielson glared at him. "Yes, sir."
"All right. Go on back to the ship."
* * * * *
Nielson went clumping back toward the vessel. Hargraves turned to Ron
Val.
"What do you make of it?"
"I don't know, Jed. There is something about it that I don't like a
little bit. They can read minds. Maybe that is what I don't like because
I don't know how to react to it. Jed, it may be that we are in great
danger here."
"There is little doubt about _that_," Hargraves answered. "Tonight we
will stand watches. Tomorrow we will make a reconnaissance of our own."
Dusk came over the grove. Vega hesitated on the horizon as though trying
to make up its mind, then abruptly took the plunge and dived from sight
beyond the rim of the world. Night came abruptly, hiding the ship and
its occupants. In the sky overhead, stars twinkled like the eyes of
watchful wolves.