"Yes, yes, I'm all right. Come on down--peaceably."
"What's the deal?"
"They're convinced. They'll have their president, or whatever, here in
the morning to sign a treaty with us."
"WHAT?!"
A moment later the big ship landed with a silent rush, flattening out a
large expanse of scrub. The ground crunched under it. A dozen wide-eyed
natives watched from a respectful distance.
The lower port flew open; Gordon and Rogers came scrambling down the
ladder. The two men came running over, hand-guns swinging heavily at
their sides. The turret guns were trained on the hill before the cave.
"Is this on the level?" demanded Gordon.
"Yes. I'll explain later, after I've had some sleep."
The captain's eye fell on the scout ship. "Looks like your ship will
navigate all right," he said, still out of breath. "Probably have to
replace the autopilot and tracker, though. But why in blazes did they
take a shot at it? And why wasn't your defensive field on?"
The linguist kicked a pebble. "I forgot to ask them why they did that.
I guess they figured my gesture of offering a weapon didn't mean much
unless I was vulnerable to the weapon myself. Or maybe they felt that,
if I came in good faith, I'd come without protection. Anyway, they
didn't want to shoot me just to find out, so they tested it on the
ship and decided I was--er, on the level. If it _had_ been on, they'd
probably have shot me immediately with the crossbow. Or maybe they'd
have figured out what the glow was and shot me without testing it. Then
they'd have gone back in the tunnel and sealed it up for good."
He suddenly laughed aloud, face alight with pleasure and surprised
realization. "For the first time on this trip, I'm glad I've never had
any military experience! If I'd been well-trained, that field would
have been turned on!"
Gordon's strained face relaxed. He looked at Stuart in awe, and put an
arm around his shoulders. After a moment he said, musingly, "What do we
do next? We've got to get back, but we also ought to see this through
when the brass gets here."
Stuart's reply was prompt. "You go back. Leave me food for a couple of
days and tell Patrol to bring me what I need for a long stay. I'll see
this thing through."
"Can I take a picture of you tomorrow with the Azuran big chief? It'd
look swell in the papers back home." Gordon's tone was bantering.
The linguist looked him in the eye. "I wish you would," he said,
soberly.