[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Galaxy Magazine December 1960.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
There were two varieties of aliens--blue
and bluer--but not as blue as the Earthmen!
Even if I'm only a space pilot, I'm not dumb. I mean I'm not _that_
dumb. I admit that Dr. Ellik and Dr. Chon outrank me, because that's
the way it's got to be. A pilot is only an expendable part. But I had
been the first one to see the natives on this planet, and I was the
first one to point out that they came in two attractive shades of blue,
light blue and dark blue.
Four Indigos were carrying an Azure. I called the others over to the
screen.
"A sedan chair," identified Lee Chon. "Think the light-skinned one is a
kind of a priest?"
Mike Ellik shook his head. "I doubt it. The chair isn't ornate enough.
I think that's probably the standard method of travel--at least for a
certain social elite."
"Do you notice anything unusual about those bully boys?"
"You tell me what you see," Ellik evaded.
"Three of them are mongoloid idiots," said Chon.
"I thought so," Ellik said, "but I wasn't quite sure--aliens and all."
"They're humanoids," Chon said, "and humanoids are my specialty. I
know."
"The fourth one doesn't look much better."
"His features are slack and his jaw is loose, all right, but they
aren't _made_ that way. It's an expression he could change. His head
isn't shaped like that."
"Um. The man in the chair is a striking specimen. No cerebral damage in
him."
"I don't think the answer is brain damage. If the 'noble' trusts those
four to carry him, their actions and reflexes must be pretty well
coordinated. They can't have anything like palsy or epilepsy."
"They must breed a special type of slave for the job," Ellik suggested.
"They aren't slaves, Mike," I told him.
"No?" Ellik said, like talking to a kid. "And what are they, Mike?"
* * * * *
I breathed out hard, a little disgusted that big brains like Ellik and
Chon couldn't see the translucent truth. "They are just four dumb slobs
who can't get a better job, so they are hauling His Highness around
because they have to make a living the hard way."
"That doesn't quite cover it, Johnny," Chon said. "The carriers are a
completely different race."
"What's different about them?" I asked. "They've got hands to work
with, eyes to see with, noses to smell with. If you kick one of them, I
bet he'll hurt. It's just their bad luck to be dumb slobs."
Ellik grunted. "Unfortunately, Johnny, there are subtler differences.
The darker aliens, the indigo-colored ones, seem to be definitely down
further on the scale of local evolution. They must be an inferior race
to the lighter, azure species."
Chon had been looking at us and listening to everything. Finally he
said, "You can't be sure of that, Mike. You haven't seen all of the
Indigos. Some of them may not be as far down as the common carriers."
Ellik sighed. "Explorers have to make snap decisions on insufficient
data. We don't have time to see the whole damned planet before we write
up a report."
"Yes, explorers have to make snap decisions," Chon repeated to himself.
"Are you going to take a look at those buildings, see if it's a
village?"
"I thought I'd see if our blueblood friend out there wants to show it
to me," said Mike Ellik.
"He won't," I said.
They both looked at me.
"You don't have any chair and nobody to carry you," I went on. "He'll
think you're just a slob."
"Jonathan," Ellik said, "you show occasional flashes of genius."
I smiled and shrugged it off. "I know I'm not nearly as smart as you
boys. But that doesn't mean I can't think _at all_."