Edith's voice came from outside. "Don!" she called in a tight voice.
"Don! Help me! _I can't move!_"
"Try coming back here and see what happens," Donald said slowly.
Edith's head appeared in the entrance. "I'm back," she said in a small
voice.
"I thought you would be. Now let's pack and perhaps they'll let us go.
It's obvious that we can't run away."
"But why? _What's happened to us?_"
"If I told you, you'd think I'm crazy."
"Tell me anyway. It can't be any worse than this."
"I think," Donald said slowly as he began to roll up his sleeping bag,
"that we were kidnapped by extraterrestrials."
"Martians?"
"Not necessarily," he said. "But if I remember my nightmare correctly,
they aren't human--and they are obviously smart. So they aren't of this
earth. We don't have intelligent reptiles here. And with their ability
to control our actions, I'd say that they were from a considerably
higher culture than ours. They've done things to us--but I don't think
they did them just for fun. They want us to do something."
"What?"
"I don't know. Right now I'd guess they want us to pack our things.
Let's do it and get out of here. This place smells like the reptile
house in the zoo!"
* * * * *
I was amazed. The native's analysis was as logical as my own would have
been under similar circumstances. There was nothing wrong with his mind
or with his courage. That big braincase held a smoothly functioning
mind and a cold courage I could almost envy. In a similar fix I wasn't
sure that I could be so calm.
My respect for him mounted. If there were others like him on this
world, his race could be a potential danger spot for the whole Galaxy.
And, with the natural antipathy between our races, these creatures
could be _trouble_ if they ever reached space. I wondered for a moment
if Authority had known this when It brought me here. There must be some
design that I should land here when this race was still capable of
being frustrated.
For the sake of civilization I would have to learn more about these
mammals. Much more. But since the male had deduced so much, there was
only one logical course of action. I adjusted the filters on my helmet
to allow the passage of surface thoughts, twisted the dials on the
controller until the meters balanced and projected gently.
"Donald--listen to me," I said.
He stiffened. "I thought you would be somewhere around," he said. "Who
are you?"
"My name is Eu Kor, and I am a native of Thalassa."
"Where's that?"
"A good many spatial units from here--a good many of your light years,"
I amended. "I mean you no harm, but I need your cooperation. My
spaceship is crippled. Our fuel has deteriorated. We need more and I
want you to get it for us. We captured you because we need your help.
Being a native you would not make a ripple in this society. And we
would create whirlpools."
"What is this material you want?"
"A metal. Atomic number 50, a white metal used as an alloy component
of primitive metallic cultures," I said. "It shouldn't be too hard to
get." I didn't realize how hard it was to describe what I wanted. I
wasn't getting through, and it bothered me. The culture barrier was
almost as bad as though we couldn't contact mind to mind.
"I think you mean tin," he said. I grasped the concept and it seemed
right.
"Bring me some and I will run tests," I said.
"And what do I get in return?"
* * * * *
I thought quickly. If he wanted to bargain perhaps we could reach an
agreement. It's always better to have a cooperative proxy. They don't
cause nearly the trouble in management. And I had other things to do
than monitor natives. There was a great deal of repair work to be done
on the ship before she would fly again. The subspace radio power bank
had to be rebuilt and the circuits should be checked.
"I can give you knowledge that you wouldn't have for decades--maybe
centuries," I said. "And I can adjust your bodies for a longer and
happier life." I shot a glance at Ven still immersed in her helmet.
"In fact, I have made a few adjustments already."
"So I noticed," Donald thought dryly. "Although whether they're an
improvement or not I couldn't say. But did you have to go to all this
trouble?"
"Think of us--and discount the fact that you carried us because our
bodies are too weak for your heavy world." I said. "Did you like us?"
"No," he said. "You repelled me. I disliked you on sight, more than I
can say."
"The emotion is mutual," I said. "Yet I can endure you. But with your
glandular outlook you could only think of destroying us."
"That is true. But you treated us like animals."
"You are animals," I said logically.
"We are masters of this world. We recognize no higher authority. We are
free people--not slaves. And unless we are treated as free agents you
will get no cooperation from us."
"I can force you to do as I wish," I said.
"Prove it!"
I took over. And while Donald watched with helpless horror his hand
picked up a knife and drew it across his arm. The keen edge split the
tissues neatly and the blood flowed.
"Don! What are you doing!" Edith screamed and then stiffened as Ven
took control.
"Observe," I said as I released control.
"Why, you--" Donald began--and then continued in a tone of wonder.
"Why--the cut's closing! There's no more blood--It's gone!"
"It's just one of the improvements I mentioned," I said smugly. "You
also had a patch of scar tissue on your left lung and infected kidneys.
You do not have them now. Had you not met us you would have been dead
within five of your years."
* * * * *
He was shaken. I could feel it. "I do have Bright's disease," he said
thoughtfully.
"You had it," I corrected.
"All right," he said suddenly, "I'll bargain with you. You've done me a
good turn and it deserves a payment. I'll help you get your metal." He
grinned ruefully. "I guess I couldn't do anything else."
"It makes it easier this way," I said. I smiled to myself. I was
telling him the truth, but not all of it. Nor did I trust him. There
was fear and hatred in his lower centers, and a formless feeling in his
upper levels that he could outsmart any damn lizard that ever lived. He
didn't realize that I could read his surface thoughts.
"Just remember," I said, "I can control you completely, if necessary,
and pick your brain for data whether you wish it or not. And forget
those ideas of informing your authorities about us. Except with your
mate you cannot communicate to anyone about us. There's a basic block
in your brain that will result in irreversible mental damage if you
try."
This last was not quite the truth. But I hoped that by establishing
fear I would prevent talk. "Now find us samples of the metal I want." I
withdrew and went back to scanning.
"What was going on there?" Edith said. "You were talking to empty air.
And why did you cut yourself?"
"It was one of our reptilian friends," Don said. "Like I thought,
they're right with us--every way. He's a weird sort. Wants to trade
health and knowledge for tin."
"Tin?"
"Yeah. At least I think it's tin. His description of the metal fits.
They use it instead of rocket juice."
"But that knife--your arm?"
"Look. No cut--no blood. That's one of the things they did to us. We've
got puncture-proof skin."
"Is that good?"
"It isn't bad. And I don't think I'll ever have to shave again. As I
remember I put that stuff on my face. Anyway, we now have a couple
of fairy godmothers who ride around in spaceships instead of pumpkin
coaches."
"You're mixing your stories," Edith said. "Cinderella travelled in the
pumpkin coach, not her fairy godmother. And besides, it's not funny.
We're more like those poor souls in the Middle Ages who were possessed
by devils--incubuses, I think they called them."
"It makes no difference what you call them," Donald said indifferently.
"Whatever they are, we've got them and they're not going to leave until
they're damn good and ready. Incidentally, yours is a female, so she's
probably a succubus. Now don't start screaming. You'll probably be
paralyzed if you do."
"I won't scream," Edith said dully. "I'm too numb to scream."