We humans are rational beings, but we are not often reasonable. Those
who more or less handle us in masses have to take account of that fact.
It could not be admitted that the fleet had had a fight with a ship
piloted by Invaders from another solar system. It would produce a wild
panic, beside which even a war would be relatively harmless. So the
admiral of the Mediterranean fleet composed an order commending his men
warmly for their performance in an unrehearsed firing-drill. Their
target had been--so the order said--a new type of guided missile
recently developed by hush-hush agencies of the Defense Department. The
admiral was pleased and proud, and happy....
It was an excellent order, but it wasn't true. The admiral wasn't happy.
Not after battle photographs were developed and he could see how the
alien ship had dodged rockets with perfect ease, and had actually taken
a five-inch shell, which exploded on impact, without a particle of
damage.
On the carrier, the Greek general said mildly to Coburn that the
Invaders had used their power very strangely. After stopping an invasion
of Greece, they had prevented an atomic-bomb explosion which would have
killed some hundreds of thousands of people. And it was strange that
the turtle-shaped ship that had attacked the air transport was so
clumsily handled as compared with this similar craft which had zestfully
dodged all the missiles a fleet could throw at it.
Coburn thought hard. "I think I see," he said slowly. "You mean, they're
here and they know all they need to know. But instead of coming out into
the open, they're making governments recognize their existence. They're
letting the rulers of Earth know they can't be resisted. But we did
knock off one of their ships last night!"
The Greek general pointedly said nothing. Coburn caught his meaning. The
fleet, firing point-blank, had not destroyed its target. The ship last
night had seemed to fall into a cloud bank and explode. But nobody had
seen it blow up. Maybe it hadn't.
"Humoring us!" realized Coburn. "They don't want to destroy our
civilization, so they'll humor us. But they want our governments to know
that they can do as they please. If our governments know we can't
resist, they think we'll surrender. But they're wrong."
The Greek general looked at him enigmatically.
"We've still got one trick left," said Coburn. "Atomic bombs. And if
they fail, we can still get killed fighting them another way."
There was a heavy, droning noise far away. It increased and drew nearer.
It was a multi-engined plane which came from the west and settled down,
and hovered over the water and touched and instantly created a spreading
wake of foam.
The fleet was back at anchor then. It was enclosed in the most beautiful
combination of city and scene that exists anywhere. Beyond the city the
blunted cone of Vesuvius rose. In the city, newspaper vendors shrilly
hawked denunciations of the American ships because of the danger that
their atom bombs might explode. Well outside the harbor, a Navy crew of
experts worked to make quite impossible the detonation of atomic bombs
in a stubby tramp-steamer which had--plausibly, at least--been sent to
make those same newspapers' prophecies of disaster come true.
* * * * *
A long, long time passed, while consultations took place to which Coburn
was not invited. Then a messenger led him to the wardroom of the
previous conference. He recognized the men who had landed by seaplane a
while since. One was a cabinet member from Washington. There was someone
of at least equal importance from London, picked up en route. There were
generals and admirals. The service officers looked at Coburn with
something like accusation in their eyes. He was the means by which they
had come to realize their impotence. The Greek general sat quietly in
the rear.
"Mr. Coburn," said the Secretary from Washington. "We've been canvassing
the situation. It seems that we simply are not prepared to offer
effective resistance--not yet--to the ... invaders you tell us about. We
know of no reason why this entire fleet could not have been disabled as
effectively as the tramp-steamer offshore. You know about that ship?"
Coburn nodded. The Greek general had told him. The Secretary went on
painfully: "Now, the phenomena we have to ascribe to Invaders fall into
two categories. One is the category of their action against the
Bulgarian raiding force, and today the prevention of the cold-war murder
of some hundreds of thousands of people. That category suggests that
they are prepared--on terms--to be amiable. A point in their favor."
Coburn set his lips.
"The other group of events simply points you out and builds you up as a
person of importance to these Invaders. You seem to be extremely
important to them. They doubtless could have killed you. They did not.
What they did do was bring you forward to official attention. Presumably
they had a realistic motive in this."
"I don't know what it could be," said Coburn coldly. "I blundered into
one affair. I figured out a way to detect them. I happened to be the
means by which they were proved to exist. That's all. It was an
accident."
The Secretary looked skeptical. "Your discoveries were remarkably ...
apt. And it does seem clear that they made the appearance of hunting
you, while going to some pains not to catch you. Mr. Coburn, how can we
make contact with them?"
Coburn wanted to swear furiously. He was still being considered a
traitor. Only they were trying to make use of his treason.
"I have no idea," he said grimly.
"What do they want?"
"I would say--Earth," he said grimly.
"You deny that you are an authorized intermediary for them?"
"Absolutely," said Coburn. There was silence. The Greek general spoke
mildly from the back of the room. He said in his difficult English that
Coburn's personal motives did not matter. But if the Invaders had picked
him out as especially important, it was possible that they felt him
especially qualified to talk to them. The question was, would he try to
make contact with them?