Cliff Lane and Stellor Downing faced one another. They had spent hours
in complete slumber after the incident, and their awakening had been
almost simultaneous. They were both in a mental tizzy; they knew that
Something Must Be Done but were slightly foggy as to what. Their former
animosity seemed gone, or at least secondary to the urgency of the
present situation.
They did not ask the usual question upon awakening, they knew that they
had been removed from Toralen Ki's ship and hospitalized.
They did not mention Toralen Ki--not openly. But they felt it. Perhaps
it was a sort of mental maturity, this Transformation. They kept their
counsel until they could discuss it together--and they seemed to know
that the other preferred it that way.
They sought the eyes of the people in the room and asked, almost
simultaneously: "Can this be explained now?"
Hotang Lu nodded agreeably. He explained the story in full, and
completely. As he concluded Hotang Lu smiled again. "Before--you had
not the ability to understand, nor had I the ability to express myself
in your terms. The Transformation has made it possible for all of us to
partly speak in the other's language, and partly convey thoughts."
"That should be helpful."
"You will find it so. No matter which race of whatever sun you visit in
the future, you will find that faculty helpful. You will even be able
to mingle with the Loard-vogh."
"'Mangle' sounds better," gritted Lane.
"That will come in time."
"Well, let's hit it," said Lane. "What do we do first?"
"First," said Hotang Lu, "is to beware. The Loard-vogh are warned.
Knowing their psychology, attack will be imminent."
"Then we'd best prepare to repel boarders?"
"Yes."
"Hotang Lu has the right idea," said Lane. "If they're warned, they'll
clip us first."
Kennebec objected. "Why?" he asked. "Why do you expect them to hit us?
After all, they're swarming through the galaxy in this direction. If
they are that powerful, why should they attack Terra?"
"We constitute a threat," said Downing. "We are a powerful threat, or I
miss my guess."
"Terra is a most powerful threat," said Hotang Lu. "Terra, well, it is
known to the Loard-vogh as the Planet of Terror."
"Gratifying in a nice, lethal way," smiled Kennebec. "Mind telling us
why?"
"Not at all. Terra is the center of the mutation area."
"Meaning what?"
"Sol is one of a vast trinary, astronomically speaking. Or was once. It
is now one of an extended binary. You have no reference to this?"
"Not that I know of," said Lane. "And I've been a student of astronomy."
"Well, it is so vast that you may probably not come to the astronomical
proof for thousands of years. Sol, however, is one of a binary
that used to be a trinary. The third sun was alien--contraterrene.
Thirty million years ago it was struck by a stellar wanderer--of
terrene matter. The explosion was mighty. It was vast. It scattered
particles of the third member far and wide. A great swarm of bits of
contraterrene matter range this sector of the Galaxy. They fall into
Sol, into Alpha, into Procyon, into Sirius, into the other stars within
thirty to forty light-years from Sol. Even Arcturus, forty light-years
away, has his small share, and so it goes.
"The resulting radiation from this drift of contraterrene matter
falling into the star dispersion of this sector has bathed this entire
portion of the Galaxy in hard radiation. Mutation has been rapid, and
evolution has taken swift advances."
"Meaning exactly what?" demanded Stellor Downing.
"I can tell you that one," laughed Thompson. "We are tougher than hell."
"Terra's evolution has been vicious and swift," said Hotang Lu. "The
natural enemies of life have also evolved rapidly. Clifford Lane
destroyed one of the minor animals of Sscantoo by merely holding it--so
did Stellor Downing. The things that Terrans live with in peace--or
even symbiosis--are feared by the rest of the Galaxy. Insect life--many
thousands of kinds of insects. Fungus--a myriad of types, all hardy.
I've heard of a mollusk that secretes strontium metal for a shell
rather than the usual calcium, and micro-animalcules that thrive in
a bath of chemically pure sulphuric acid. Terrans drink a most foul
poison--ethanol--for pleasure, and inhale the combustion-products--tar
and worse--of a dried weed as a fairly common habit. This habit, by the
way, seems to have absolutely no effect upon life or mentality. Terrans
go anywhere with immunity, and those who come here must prepare to die."
"You're not dead," objected Lane.
"No, but I expected death. I was prepared. I was innoculated and
sterilized and given all sorts of treatments. I irradiate myself daily
with the micro-organism killing radiations known to our doctors and
scientists. Otherwise I would--well, in your slang terms--grow green
hair in an hour.
"In fact," continued Hotang Lu thoughtfully, "Toralen Ki and myself
were the last of several expeditions to contact Terra. We sent a
first to investigate and sample the upper stratosphere. They did--and
they died painfully. But they succeeded in preparing artificial
antimeasures against the bacteria and fungus-spores that roam that
altitude. The second expedition landed, but took only samples of the
surface-atmosphere. They died, learning the secrets of the mutant
microlife of Terra. They prepared antimeasures for the third expedition
who emerged from the ship, protected against air-borne death, and gave
their lives learning how to control the microlife that abounds and is
transmitted by contact.
"The fourth expedition came to roam the planet at will, and they died
because there had been a mutation in one form of spore in the years
between the third expedition and the fourth. The fifth came and were
safe.
"Toralen Ki and myself were the fifth expedition."
"Um-m-m, what a nice bunch of little stinkers Terrans must be," smiled
Lane.
"Terrans and Venusites," amended Downing.
"Don't be bitter," laughed Lane. "You're tarred with this brush too,
you know."