Kielgaard's voice replied, "I heard it, Dan. We're checking at this
end to see if it's some error in the vocabulary we implanted in your
brain." A moment later, Kielgaard said, "As nearly as we can tell
here, 'Death' is the word she used."
"Funny."
Dan rounded a bend in the trail and came to a moderately wide road,
paved with smooth blocks of stone. To his right was a wall about ten
feet high, with an open gate and a city street visible behind it. From
somewhere came the steady beat of a drum. Dan started toward the gate,
but had to jump aside as a heavily armed column of troops marched out,
their faces set and their feet striking the ground in an unvarying
cadence.
As the last of the troops went by, a man standing nearby turned to Dan
and said, "Well, there they go. We won't be seeing some of them again
in this life."
Dan nodded noncommittally, and the man looked at him sharply, then
grinned and said, "Good hunting."
"Thank you," said Dan. He could hear a faint muttering somewhere in the
background, which he took to be Kielgaard and his experts, trying to
understand this latest exchange.
Dan followed the man through the city gates, and walked past a variety
of small shops selling baked goods, meats, groceries, hand tools,
books, and appliances.
Dan noted the location of the bookstore, so that on the way back he
could buy some books. He wanted to transmit the contents of the books;
the staff of experts could learn a great deal from a cross-section of a
planet's fiction and non-fiction.
* * * * *
As Dan walked toward the center of the city, he noted that the
buildings grew larger, and the shops turned into big department stores.
These all looked much the same as the ones on Earth, or on many other
technologically advanced planets. The merchandise showed only minor
differences in design. Looking in a hardware store, for instance, Dan
discovered that ordinary screwdrivers had a short curved crosspiece
on the handle--apparently a thumb rest to give greater leverage in
turning. Aside from such minor differences, everything seemed the same.
Dan had just decided that the planet looked almost like home when
he came to a low building with a paved yard. Into the yard trundled
several small carts, similar to the kind used to transfer baggage in
railroad and mataform depots back home. On these carts, however, were
canvas covers, which were thrown back to reveal fully clothed human
forms. On all but one cart, the human forms wore the same kind of
white garment, trimmed in various colors. These forms--bodies, Dan
supposed--were lifted from the carts by attendants who handled them
with the greatest care and respect.
On the other cart, though, the bodies wore street clothes. These bodies
were grabbed under the arms, dragged to a black door like the door of a
furnace, set in the wall of the building, and shoved through the door
head first. As the bodies were shoved in, Dan saw the sunlight glint on
what looked like tight metal cords around their necks, bearing oblong
metal tags.
Several men had stopped while Dan glanced in to watch this scene. Dan
now overheard their comments, which were made in tense angry tones:
"Look at that. If this referendum isn't over soon, it'll dust the lot
of us over the forest."
"It's all these charges and accusations that make the trouble. Why we
can't do it like civilized human beings, I don't know."
"The trouble is, there's no precedent."
The men walked away.
Dan had the out-of-focus sensation of a man who comes into a room where
a joke has already been half-told.