_Agitate it with one of yours. It's a courtesy. Don't let her see how
repulsive she is to you. Remember, you're just as repulsive to her._
Dfar-Lll offered a shy, seven-fingered hand. "Pleased ... to meet
you ... ma'am," the young lizard squeaked.
"Why, he's just a baby, isn't he?" Mrs. Bernardi asked.
_I am not a baby!_ Dfar-Lll thought indignantly. _At the end of this
year, I shall celebrate my pre-maturity feast, or I would have. And
furthermore--_
There was another thunderous blast of sound. After the ground had
stopped trembling, the six found themselves ankle-deep in muddy water.
Algol, who was in considerably deeper than his ankles, mewed fretfully.
Mrs. Bernardi picked him up and comforted him.
"Perhaps blasting wasn't such a good idea," the professor muttered.
"Maybe I should tell Greenfield to call a halt and we'll take our
chances with the storm. As a matter of fa--"
"The ship!" Mortland cried. "It _is_ sinking!"
And the big metal ball slowly but visibly was indeed subsiding into the
mud.
"Stop it, somebody!" Miss Anspacher snapped in her customary schoolroom
manner.
The professor was pale, but he held on to his calm. "What can we do?
Even if we could get the captain back in time, there's no way we can
stop it. It's too heavy to pull out manually, and the engines, of
course, are inside."
As they watched in horror, the ship sank deeper and deeper, picking up
momentum as more of it went under. With a loud, sucking sound, it
vanished into the ooze. Muddy water gurgled over it and, where the ship
had been, there was now a small lake.
"This could be the beginning of a legend," Miss Anspacher murmured. "Or
the end."
There was another vibrant detonation. "Someone ought to go tell the
captain there's no use blasting any more," Bernardi said wearily. "We
have nothing to put on the rock when he smooths it off." He began to
laugh. "I suppose you could call this poetic justice." And he went on
laughing, losing a bit of his former self-control.
_There goes Plan B_, Jrann-Pttt thought.
A star of intensely bright green lightning split the clouds and widened
to cover the visible expanse of sky. There was a planet-shaking clap of
thunder that made Greenfield's puny efforts sound like the snapping of
twigs in comparison and it began to rain hard and fast.
* * * * *
"If only I hadn't gone and blasted that damn rock," the captain
grumbled, squeezing water out of his shirt-tails, "we'd have been all
right. Probably the storm wouldn't have done a thing to the ship except
get it wet. If you can even call it a storm."
"I can and I do," Jrann-Pttt replied, haughtily squeegeeing his wet
scales. "All I said was that a storm might be coming up and it might be
dangerous. How was I to know it would last only half an hour?"
"Even the camp stools pulled through," Greenfield pointed out, "and you
said shelters wouldn't stand up."
"I only said they might not. Can't you understand your own language?"
The fissure in the clouds had not quite closed yet and through it the
enormous, blazing disk of the sun glared at them, twice as large as it
appeared from Earth. It was a moot point as to whether they'd be dried
out or steamed alive first.
"Might as well collect whatever gear we have left and get it to higher
ground," Miss Anspacher said efficiently. "Two feet of water won't do
anything any good--even those camp stools."
"It's my belief you wanted this to happen," Greenfield accused
Jrann-Pttt. "You wanted to get rid of us."
"My dear fellow," Jrann-Pttt replied loftily, "the information I gave
you was, to the best of my knowledge, accurate. However, I happen to be
a professor of zoology and not a meteorologist. Apparently you people
live out in the open like primitives," he continued, ignoring Dfar-Lll's
admiring interjection, "and are accustomed to the vicissitudes of
weather. I am a civilized creature; I live--" _or used to live_--"in an
air-conditioned, light-conditioned, weather-conditioned city. It is only
when I rough it on field trips like this to trackless parts of
the--globe that I am forced to experience weather. Even then, I have
never before been caught in a situation like this."
_In fact, I was never before caught or I wouldn't be in this situation
at all._
"Oh, Jrann-Pttt," sighed Miss Anspacher, "I knew you couldn't be just an
ordinary native!"
"How did you get into this situation then?" Professor Bernardi asked. He
had an unfortunate talent for going directly to the point.
"The third member of our expedition died," Jrann-Pttt explained. "He was
our dirigational expert. Our guide."
"How did he happen to--"
"Are we just going to stand here chatting," Miss Anspacher demanded, "or
are we going to do something about this?"
"What can we do?" Mrs. Bernardi asked weakly. "We might just as well lie
down and--"
"Never say die, Louisa," Miss Anspacher admonished.
"I suggest we go to my camp to see what shape it's in," Jrann-Pttt said,
furiously putting together Plan C. "Some of the supplies there might
prove useful."
Captain Greenfield looked questioningly at Bernardi. The professor
shrugged. "Might as well."
"All right," the captain growled. "Let's pick up whatever we can save."
* * * * *
Since there wasn't much that could be rescued, the little safari was
soon on its way. Jrann-Pttt led, carrying Algol in his arms. Behind came
Mortland, bearing a camp stool and the kettle into which he had tucked a
tin of biscuits and into which the mosquito-bat had tucked itself, its
orange eyes glaring out angrily from beneath the lid. Next came Mrs.
Bernardi with her knitting, her camp stool and her sorrow.
Dfar-Lll followed with two stools and the plastic tea set. Close behind
was Miss Anspacher, with the sugar bowl, the earthenware teapot and an
immense bound volume of the _Proceedings of the Physical Society of
Ameranglis_ for 1993. Professor Bernardi bore a briefcase full of notes
and the table. The rain had damaged the latter's mechanism, so that its
legs kept unfolding from time to time, to the great inconvenience of
Captain Greenfield, who brought up the rear with the blasting equipment.
Behind them and sometimes alongside them came something--or
someone--else.
[Illustration]
"Surely your camp must have been closer to ours than this," Miss
Anspacher finally remarked after they had been slogging through mud and
water and pushing aside reluctant vegetation for over an Earth hour.
"I am very much afraid," Jrann-Pttt admitted, "that our camp has been
lost--that is to say, inundated."
"What are we going to do now?" the captain asked of the company at
large.
Professor Bernardi shrugged. "Our only course would seem to be making
for one of the cities and throwing ourselves upon the na--Jrann-Pttt's
people's hospitality. If Professor Jrann-Pttt has even the vaguest idea
of the direction in which his home lies, we might as well head that
way." _I wonder whether the natives could help us raise the ship._
"I'm sure my people will be more than happy to welcome you," Jrann-Pttt
said smoothly, "and to make you comfortable until your people send
another ship to fetch you."
The terrestrials looked at one another. Dfar-Lll looked at Jrann-Pttt.
Professor Bernardi coughed. "That was the only spaceship we had," he
admitted. "The first experimental model, you know." _We don't expect to
stay on this awful planet forever. After all, as Louisa says, the
government will have to forgive us. Public opinion and all that._
"Oh," the saurian said. "Then we shall have the pleasure of your company
until they build another?"
There was silence. "We have the only plans," the professor said,
gripping his briefcase more tightly. "I am the inventor of the ship, so
naturally I would have them." _If we brought back some specimens of
Venusian life--of intelligent Venusian life--to prove we'd been
here...._
"Matter of fact, old fellow," Mortland said, "we took all the plans with
us so they couldn't build another ship and follow--"
"Mortland!" the professor exclaimed.
"But they're telepaths," Miss Anspacher said. "They must know already."
Everyone turned to look at the saurians.
"I have ... certain information," Jrann-Pttt admitted, "but I cannot
understand it. You are in trouble with your rulers because they would
not give you the funds, claiming space travel was impossible?"
"That's right," Bernardi said. _Not really specimens, you understand.
Guests._
"And you went ahead and appropriated the funds and materials from your
government, since you were in a trusted position where you could do so?"
Bernardi nodded.
"Of course the question is now academic, for the ship is gone, but since
you proved the possibility of space travel by coming here, wouldn't your
government then dismiss the charges against you?"
"That's exactly what I keep telling him!" Mrs. Bernardi exclaimed.
But her husband shook his head. "The law is inflexible. We have broken
it and must be punished, even if by breaking it we proved its
fundamental error." _Why let him know our plans?_
_Why, Jrann-Pttt, that sounds just like our own government, doesn't it?_
_Yes, it does. We should be able to establish a very satisfactory mode
of living with these strangers._
"We'd hoped that after a year or so the whole thing would die down,"
Mortland explained frankly, "and we'd go back as heroes."
"Do you know the way to your home, Jrann-Pttt?" the professor asked
anxiously.
"Since we were able to catch a glimpse of the sun, I think I can figure
out roughly where we are. All we must do is walk some two hundred
kilometers in that direction--" he waved an arm to indicate the
way--"and we should be at the capital."
"Will your people accept us as refugees?" Miss Anspacher demanded
bluntly, "or will we be captives?" _Which is what I'll bet the good
professor is planning for you, if only he can figure some way to get you
and, of course, ourselves back._
"We should be proud to accept you as citizens and to receive the
benefits of your splendid technology. Our laboratories will be placed at
your disposal."
"Well, that's better than we hoped for," the professor said,
brightening. "We had expected to have to carve our own laboratories out
of the wilderness. Now we shall be able to carry on our researches in
comfort." _No need to trouble the natives; we'll be able to raise the
ship ourselves. Or build a new one. And I'll see to it personally that
they have special quarters in the zoo with a considerable amount of
privacy._
"If I were you, I wouldn't trust him too far," the captain warned. "He's
a foreigner."
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Captain!" Miss Anspacher said.
"I, for one, trust Jrann-Pttt implicitly. Did you say this direction,
Jrann-Pttt?" She stepped forward briskly. There was a loud splash and
water closed over her head.
Captain Greenfield rushed forward to haul her out. "Well," she said,
daintily coughing up mud, "I was wet to begin with, anyway."
"You're a brave little woman, Miss Anspacher," the captain told her
admiringly.
"This sort of thing may present a problem," Professor Bernardi
commented. "I hope that was only a pot-hole, that the water is not going
to be consistently too deep for wading."
"There might be quicksand, too," Mrs. Bernardi said somberly. "In
quicksand, one drowns slowly."
Dfar-Lll gave a start. _Surely you don't intend to lead them back to
base?_
_Precisely. The swamp is unfit for settlement._
_But to return voluntarily to captivity?_
_Who mentioned anything about captivity? Assisted by our new friends, we
have an excellent chance of taking over the ship and supplies by a
surprise attack._
_But why should these aliens assist us?_
Jrann-Pttt smiled. _Oh, I think they will. Yes, I have every confidence
in Plan C._
"I suggest," the professor said, ignoring his wife's pessimism, "that
each one of us pull a branch from a tree. We can test the ground before
we step on it, to make sure that there is solid footing underneath."
"Good idea," the captain approved. He reached out the arm that was not
occupied with Miss Anspacher and tugged at a tree limb.
And then he and the lady physicist were both floundering in the ooze.
"Well, really, Captain Greenfield!" she cried, refusing his aid in
extricating herself. "I always thought you were at least a gentleman in
spite of your illiteracy!"
"Wha--what happened?" he asked as he struggled out of the mud.
"Something pushed me; I swear it."
Jrann-Pttt mentalized. "It seems the tree did not like your trying to
remove a branch."
"The tree!" Greenfield's pale blue eyes bulged. "You're joking!"
"Not at all. As a matter of fact, I myself have been wondering why there
were so many thought-streams and yet so few animals around here. It
never occurred to me that the vegetation could be sentient and have such
strong emotive defenses. In all my experience as a botanist, I--"
"I thought you were a zoologist," Bernardi interrupted.
"My people do not believe in excessive specialization," the saurian
replied.
"Trees that think?" Mortland inquired incredulously.
"They're not very bright," Jrann-Pttt explained, "but they don't like
having their limbs pulled off. I don't suppose you would, either, for
that matter."
"I propose," Miss Anspacher said, shaking out her wet hair, "that we
break up the camp stools and use the sticks instead of branches to help
us along."
"Good idea," the captain said, trying to get back into her good graces.
"I always knew women could put their brains to use if they tried."
She glared at him.
"I thought we'd use the furniture to make a fire later," Mortland
complained. "For tea, you know."
"The ground's much too wet," Professor Bernardi replied.
"And besides," Miss Anspacher added, "I lost the teapot in that
pot-hole."
"But you managed to save the _Proceedings of the Physical Society_,"
Mortland snarled. "Serve you right if I eat it. And I warn you, if
hard-pressed, I shall."
"How will we cook our food, though?" Mrs. Bernardi demanded
apprehensively. "It's a lucky thing, Mr. Pitt, that we have you with us
to tell us which of the berries and things are edible, so at least we
shan't starve."
The visible portion of Jrann-Pttt's well-knit form turned deeper green.
"But I regret to say I don't know, Mrs. Bernardi. Those 'native' foods I
served you were all synthetics from our personal stores. I never tasted
natural foods before I met you."
"And if the trees don't like our taking their branches," Miss Anspacher
put in, "I don't suppose the bushes would like our taking their berries.
Louisa, don't do that!"
But Mrs. Bernardi, with her usual disregard for orders, had fainted into
the mud. Pulling her out and reviving her caused so much confusion, it
wasn't until then that they discovered Algol had disappeared.
* * * * *
The party had been trudging through mud and water and struggling with
pale, malevolent vines and bushes and low-hanging branches for close to
six Earth hours. All of them were tired and hungry, now that their
meager supply of biscuits and chocolate was gone.
"Remember, Carl," Mrs. Bernardi told her husband, "I forgive you. And I
know I'm being foolishly sentimental, but if you could manage to take my
body back to Earth--"
"Don't be so pessimistic." Professor Bernardi absent-mindedly leaned
against a tree, then recoiled as he remembered it might resent being
treated like an inanimate object. "In any case, we'll most likely all
die at the same time."
"I never did want to go to Venus, really," Mrs. Bernardi sniffled. "I
only came, like Algol did, because I didn't have any choice. If you left
me behind, I'd have had to bear the brunt of.... Where is Algol?" She
stared at Jrann-Pttt. "You were carrying him. What have you done with
him?"
The lizard-man looked at her in consternation. "He jumped out of my arms
when you fainted and I turned back to help. I was certain one of the
others had him."
"He's dead!" she wailed. "You let him fall into the water and drown--an
innocent kitty that never hurt anybody, except in fun."
"Come, come, Louisa." Her husband took her arm. "He was only a cat. I'm
sure Jrann-Pttt didn't mean for him to drown. He was just so upset by
your fainting that he didn't think...."
"Not Jrann-Pttt's fault, of course," Miss Anspacher said.
"After all, we can't expect them to love animals as we do. But Algol was
a very good sort of cat...."
"Keep quiet, all of you!" Jrann-Pttt shouted. "I have never known any
species to use any method of communication so much in order to
communicate so little. Don't you understand? I would not have assumed
the cat was with one of you, if I had not subconsciously sensed his
thought-stream all along. He must be nearby."
Everyone was still, while Jrann-Pttt probed the dense underbrush that
blocked their view on both sides. "Over here," he announced, and led the
way through the thick screen of interlaced bushes and vines on the left.
About ten meters farther on, the ground sloped up sharply to form a
ridge rising a meter and a half above the rest of the terrain. The water
had not reached its blunted top, and on this fairly level strip of
ground, perhaps three meters wide, Algol had been paralleling their path
in dry-pawed comfort.
"Scientists!" Louisa Bernardi almost spat. "Professors! We could have
been walking on that, too. But did anybody think to look for dry
ground? No! It was wet in one place, so it would be wet in another. Oh,
Algol--" she reached over to embrace the cat--"you're smarter than any
so-called intelligent life-forms."
He indignantly straightened a whisker she had crumpled.
* * * * *
"Look," Mortland exclaimed in delight as they attained the top of the
ridge, "here are some dryish twigs! Don't suppose the trees want them,
since they've let them fall. If I can get a fire going, we could boil
some swamp water and make tea. Nasty thought, but it's better than no
tea at all. And how long can one go on living without tea?"
"We'll need some food before long, too," Professor Bernardi observed,
putting his briefcase down on a fallen log. "The usual procedure, I
believe, would be for us to draw straws to see which gets
eaten--although there isn't any hurry."
"I'm glad then that we'll be able to have a fire," Mortland said, busily
collecting twigs. "I should hate to have to eat you raw, Carl."
_Mr. Pitt and his little friend are delightful creatures_, Mrs. Bernardi
thought. _So intelligent and so well behaved. But eating them wouldn't
really be cannibalism. They aren't people._
_That premise works both ways, dear lady_, Jrann-Pttt ideated. _And I
must say your species will prove far easier to peel for the cooking
pot._
"Monster! What are you doing?" Mortland dropped his twigs and pulled the
mosquito-bat away from a bush. "Don't eat those berries, you silly ass;
the bush won't like it!" The mosquito-bat piped wrathfully.
Jrann-Pttt probed with intentness. "You know, I rather think the bush
wants its berries to be eaten. Something to do with--er--propagating
itself. Of course it has a false impression as to what is going to be
done with the berries, but the important fact is that it won't put up
any resistance."
"All right, old fellow." Mortland released the mosquito-bat, which
promptly flew back to the bush. "I'm not the custodian of your morals."
"I wonder whether we could eat those berries, too," Professor Bernardi
remarked pensively.
"Carl!" Mrs. Bernardi's tear-stained face flushed pink. "Why--why,
that's almost indecent!"
"We eat beans, don't we?" Mortland pointed out. "They're seeds."
"We also eat meat," Miss Anspacher added.
There was silence. "I imagine," Mrs. Bernardi murmured, "it's because
we never get to meet the meat socially." She avoided the saurians' eyes.
"We'd better see how Monster makes out, though," Miss Anspacher
observed, replenishing her lipstick, "before we try the berries
ourselves. The fact that the bush is anxious to dispose of them doesn't
mean they can't be poisonous."
"Why should Monster sacrifice himself for us?" Mortland retorted hotly,
overlooking the fact that Monster's purpose in eating the berries was
almost certainly not an altruistic one. "If we can risk his life, we can
risk our own." He crammed a handful of berries into his mouth defiantly.
"I say, they're good!"
Algol sniffed the bush with disgust, then turned away.
"See?" said Miss Anspacher. "They're undoubtedly poisonous. When he's
really hungry, he isn't so fussy." She combed her hair.
"But is he really hungry?" Bernardi asked suspiciously. "Come here,
Algol. Nice kitty." He bent down and sniffed the cat's breath. The cat
sniffed his interestedly. Their whiskers touched. "I thought so. Fish!"
"You mean," Mrs. Bernardi shrieked, "that while we were struggling
through that water, alternately starving and drowning by centimeters,
that wretched cat has not only been walking along here dry as toast, but
gorging himself on fish?"
"Now, now, Mrs. Bernardi," Jrann-Pttt said. "Being a dumb animal, he
wouldn't think of informing you about matters of which he'd assume that
you, as the superior beings, would be fully cognizant."
"You might have told us there were fish on this planet, Mr. Pitt."
"Dear lady, there is something I feel I should tell you. I am not--"
"They're here on the other side of the ridge," Greenfield called,
bending over and peering through the foliage. "The fish, I mean."
"The pools look shallow," Bernardi said, also bending over. "The fish
should be easy enough to catch. Might even be able to get them in our
hands." He reached out to demonstrate, proving the error of both his
theses, for the fish slipped right through his fingers and, as he
grabbed for them, he lost his balance, toppled over the side of the
ridge into the mud and water below and began to disappear, showing
beyond a doubt that the pools were deeper than he had thought.
"Carl, what are you doing?" Mrs. Bernardi peered into the murky depths
where her husband was threshing about. "Why don't you come out of that
filthy mud?"
His voice, though muffled, was still acid. "It isn't mud, my dear. It's
quicksand!"
"Rope!" the captain exclaimed, grabbing a coil.
"Hold on, chaps!" cried a squeaky voice. "I'm coming to the rescue!" A
stout twelve-foot vine plunged out of the shadows and wrapped one end of
itself around a tree--disregarding the latter's violent objections--and
the other end around Professor Bernardi's thorax, which was just
disappearing into the mud. "Now if one or two of you would haul away,
we'll soon have him out all shipshape and proper. Heave ho! Don't be
afraid of hurting me; my strength is as the strength of ten because my
heart is pure."
"It's that vine!" Dfar-Lll exclaimed. "So that's what has been following
us all along!"
* * * * *
"I can accept the idea of a vegetable thinking," Professor Bernardi
gasped as he was pulled out of the quicksand, "although with the utmost
reluctance." He shook himself like a dog. "But how can it be mobile?"
"You chaps can move around," the vine explained, "so I said to myself:
'Dammit, I'll have a shot at doing that, too.' Hard going at first, when
you're using suckers, but I persevered and I made it. Look, I can talk,
too. Never heard of a vine doing that before, did you? Fact is, I hadn't
thought of it before, but then I never had anyone to communicate with.
All those other vines are so stupid; you have absolutely no idea! Hope
you don't mind my picking up your language, but it was the only one
around--"
"We are honored," Professor Bernardi declared. "And I am deeply grateful
to you, too, sir or madam, for saving my life."
"Think nothing of it," the vine said, arranging its leaves, which were
of a pleasing celadon rather than the whitish-green favored by the rest
of the local vegetation. "Now that I can move, I'll probably be doing
heroic things like that all the time. Are you all going to the city? May
I go with you? I've heard lots about the city," it went on, taking
consent for granted, "but I never thought I'd get to see it. Everybody
in the swamp is such an old stick-in-the-mud. I thought I was trapped,
too, forced to spend the rest of my life in a provincial environment. Is
it true that the streets are filled with chlorophyll? Do you think I can
get a job in a botanical garden or something? Perhaps I can give little
talks on horticulture to visitors?"
The mosquito-bat looked out of the tea kettle austerely. "Monster!" it
piped shrilly.
"The very idea!" the vine snapped back indignantly. "Oh, well," it said,
calming down, "you probably don't know any better. It's up to me as the
intelligent life-form to forgive you, and I shall."
Jrann-Pttt and Dfar-Lll looked at each other in consternation. _Do you
think there really are cities on this planet, sir? Can there be
indigenous intelligent life? If so, it may have already got in touch
with the commandant._
_Impossible_, Jrann-Pttt replied. _The vine probably just heard us
talking about a city. After all, it picked up the language that way;
very likely it absorbed some terrestrial concepts along with it. If
there are any real settlements at all, they must be quite
primitive--nothing more than villages. No, it's we who will build the
cities on Venus. Combining our technology with the terrestrials', we
could develop a pretty little civilization here--after we've disposed of
the commandant, so he can't report our disappearance. We don't want any
publicity. So much better to keep our little society exclusive._
* * * * *
"Wonder what time it is," the captain remarked as he rose and stretched
in the dim yellow light of the long Venusian day. "Must have slept for
hours. My watch seems to have stopped."
"Mine, too." Mortland unstrapped his from his wrist and shook it
futilely. "Waterproof, hah! If we ever get back to Earth, I shall make
the manufacturer eat his guarantee."
"Oh, well, what does time matter to us now?" Professor Bernardi pointed
out as he rose from his leafy couch with a loud creak. All of them--even
the saurians--had aches and pains in every joint and muscle as a result
of the unaccustomed exercise and the damp climate. "We are out of its
reach. It has no present meaning for us."
This depressed them all. Only the vine seemed in good health and
spirits. "I notice you're all wearing clothes except for the short
four-legged gentleman with the home-grown fur coat," it chattered
happily. "Do you think I'll be socially acceptable without them? I
wouldn't want to make a bad impression at the very start--or would
leaves do?"
Everybody looked at Jrann-Pttt. "We are not a narrow-minded species," he
said hastily. "I'm sure your leaves will be more than adequate."
After a breakfast of fish and berries stewed in tea--which the vine
declined with thanks--the various members of the party gathered up
their belongings and resumed their journey. Encrusted with dried purple
mud and grime, their clothes deliberately torn by anti-social shrubbery,
their chins--of the males, that is--disfigured by hirsute growths, the
terrestrials made a sorry spectacle. It was hot, boiling hot, and more
humid than ever.
"Well," said Miss Anspacher, letting the Swahili marching song with
which she had been attempting to encourage the company peter out, "I do
hope we'll reach your city soon, Jrann-Pttt. I must say I could use a
hot bath." She added hastily, "Hot baths are a peculiar cultural trait
of ours."
"I could use one myself," Jrann-Pttt said. He brushed his scales
fastidiously.
"I'm looking forward so to meeting your relatives," she said, grabbing
his left arm determinedly. "I'm not violating a taboo or anything, am
I?" _It isn't really slimy; it just feels that way._
"Not one of my people's. But I'm afraid you are violating a terrestrial
taboo, judging from the thoughts I pick up from your captain's mind."
"Oh, him--he's a stupid fool!"
"Not at all. Rough, perhaps. Untutored, yes. But with a good deal of
native intelligence, although fearfully primitive."
"Perhaps I was too harsh," Miss Anspacher observed thoughtfully. _The
captain ... is good-looking in a brutal sort of way, although not nearly
as handsome or even as spiritual in appearance as Jrann-Pttt. And
sometimes I almost think he_--she blushed to herself--_shows a certain
partiality for my company._
She did not, however, let go of the saurian's arm when the captain
bustled up, prepared to put a stop to this, but tactfully, if possible,
for he had begun to realize that his rude ways did not endear him to
her.
"Ah--we're making very good progress, aren't we, Pitt?" he interrupted,
trying to insinuate himself between the two.
"Excellent."
"How soon do you think we'll be at your city at this rate?"
Jrann-Pttt shrugged. "Since I have no way of telling what our rate is or
how far we have gone, how can I tell? As a matter of fact, you might as
well learn now as later--I am not a Venusian. There is no intelligent
life native to Venus."
"Oh, really!" the vine interposed indignantly. "Saying a thing like that
right in front of me! What would you call me, then, pray tell?"
Jrann-Pttt kept his actual thoughts to himself. "A mutation," he said.
"Probably you are the first intelligent life-form to appear upon this
planet. Scholarly volumes will be written about you."
"Oh?" The vine seemed to be appeased. "I accept your apology. Perhaps
I'll learn to write and do the books myself, because I'm the only one
who can understand the real me."
"But how can you show us the way to your city if you're not native to
Venus?" Bernardi demanded, whirling fretfully upon the saurian. "What is
this, anyway? Each time you come up with a different story!"
"See?" said the captain. "Didn't I tell you he was up to no good?"
"I should like to lead you to our base," Jrann-Pttt replied with quiet
dignity. "I am telling you the truth now since I feel I should have your
consent before proceeding farther."
??????? Dfar-Lll projected.
"I hesitated before, because I wasn't sure I could trust you. You
see, the spaceship in which we came to this planet is a prison ship,
with a crew consisting of malefactors--thieves, murderers,
defrauders--dispatched to the remote fastnesses of the Galaxy to fetch
back zoological specimens. Our zoo, I must say, is the finest and most
interesting in the Universe."
"Monster!" the mosquito-bat squeaked.
"Shhh," Mortland admonished. "Don't interrupt."
"I was in command of our ill-fated expedition...."
_Oh_, Dfar-Lll projected. _For a moment there, sir, you had me worried._
"When we reached Venus, I was, I must admit, careless. I gave the crew a
chance to mutiny and they did. Slew most of the officers. Dfar-Lll and I
were lucky to escape with our lives."
"But you might have told us!" Mrs. Bernardi's voice held reproach.
"Until we knew what kind of beings you were, we couldn't let you know
how helpless and unprotected we were."
The women seemed moved, but not the men.
"Leading us on a wild goose chase, were you?" the captain challenged.
Jrann-Pttt drew a deep breath. "It was my hope that all of you would
consent to help us get our ship back from these criminals. Then we could
fly to my planet--which is the fifth of the star you know as Alpha
Centauri--where, I assure you, you would be hospitably received."
_We aren't really going back home, Jrann-Pttt, are we? I'd sooner stay
here in the swamp than go back to that jail._
_Have confidence in me, r-Lll. As soon as we have disposed of the
commandant and his officers, I can put our ship out of commission. The
terrestrials won't be able to tell what's wrong. They know nothing about
space travel. The fact that they got their crude vessel to operate was
probably sheer luck._
But the younger was not to be diverted. _Will we kill them after we've
disposed of our officers? I should hate to._
_Certainly not. We shall need servants and I don't trust the prisoners
in the ship--all criminals of the lowest type!_ Aloud, he said to the
bewildered terrestrials, "If you don't want to help us, I shall
understand. No sense your interfering in another species' quarrels,
particularly as we must seem like monsters to you."
"Monster!" the mosquito-bat agreed. "Monster, monster, monster!" No one
tried to stop him. Jrann-Pttt sensed that somehow he had lost a good
deal of his grip on the terrestrials. Finesse, he thought angrily, was
wasted on these barbaric life-forms.
Bernardi sighed. "I suppose we'll have to help you." _No reason why his
ship shouldn't stop off at Earth before it goes to Alpha Centauri. No
reason why it should even go to Alpha Centauri at all, in fact._
"If you ask me," the captain said, "he's one of the criminals himself."
"But nobody asked you," Miss Anspacher retorted, the more acidly because
she had been wondering the same thing. "Shall we resume our journey?"
"Hold on," the vine said. "I don't want to intrude or anything, but it
hasn't been made quite clear to me whether or not I'm included in the
invitation to this Alpha Centauri place, and I wouldn't want to keep
going only on the off-chance that you might ask me. I really think you
should, because you led me astray with your fair promises of glittering
cities."
"The cities of our planet do not glitter," Jrann-Pttt replied, wishing
it would wither instantly, "but certainly you are invited. Glad to have
you."
"Oh, that's awfully decent of you," the vine said emotionally. "I shan't
forget it, I promise you."
* * * * *
They plodded onward, the vine chattering so incessantly that a faint
gurgling which accompanied them went unnoticed. The gurgling grew louder
and louder as they pushed on. Finally, "I keep hearing water," Mortland
remarked. "We must be approaching a river of some kind."
A few minutes later, bursting through a screen of underbrush, they found
themselves confronted by a river whose bubbling violet-blue waters
extended for at least four kilometers from shadowy bank to bank, with
the ridge tapering to a point almost in its exact center.
Apparently, while they had been trekking along the elevation, the
surrounding terrain, concealed from them by the dense and evil-minded
vegetation, had imperceptibly taken off, leaving the ridge to become a
peninsula that jutted out into the river. They seemed to be stranded.
All they could do was retrace their steps and, since they had no idea
how far back the split became part of the mainland again, the return
journey might last almost as long as it had taken them to get there.
"I know we're heading in the right direction," Jrann-Pttt defended
himself. "I wasn't aware of the river because we must have come by an
overland route." Although he was telling the truth, at least insofar as
he knew it himself, no one, not even Dfar-Lll, believed him.
"But let's rest a bit before we turn back," Mortland proposed, flopping
to the ground. "I'm utterly used up."
"Maybe we don't need to go back," the vine said. "Not all the way,
anyhow." Everyone stared. It waved its leaves brightly at them. "I
notice the captain thoughtfully brought along lots of rope and there
were scads of fallen logs just a bit back. Couldn't you just lash the
logs together with the rope and make a--a thing on which we could float
the rest of the way? On the water, you know."
The others continued to look at it open-mouthed.
"Just a little idea I had," it said modestly. "May not amount to much,
but then you can't tell until you've tried, can you?"
"It--he--means a raft, I think," Mrs. Bernardi said.
Jrann-Pttt probed the raft concept in her mind, for he found the
vegetable's mental processes curiously obscure. "What an excellent
idea!" he exclaimed.
"It does not seem infeasible," Professor Bernardi admitted tightly. By
now, he was suspicious of everyone and everything. _If I had never
broached the idea of space travel to those peasants_, he thought, _I
would be on Earth in the dubious comfort of my own home. That's what
comes of trying to help humanity._
* * * * *
"Well," observed the captain as the heavy raft hit the water with a
tremendous splash, "she seems to be riverworthy." He rubbed his hands in
anticipation, much of his surliness gone, now that he was about to deal
with something he understood. "Since she is, in a manner of speaking, a
ship, I suppose I assume command again?" He waited for objections,
glancing involuntarily in Jrann-Pttt's direction. There were none.
"Right," he said, repressing any outward symptoms of relief.
He efficiently deployed the personnel to the positions on the raft where
he felt they might be least useless, the gear being piled in the middle
and surmounted by Algol, who naturally assumed possession of the softest
and safest place by the divine right of cats.
_The captain does have a commanding presence_, Miss Anspacher thought,
_and a sort of uncouth grace. Moreover, he cannot read my mind--in fact,
he often cannot even understand me when I speak._
"All right!" he bellowed. "Cast off!"
The vine unfastened the rope that it had insouciantly attached to a tree
trunk, remarking to the others, "Don't let the trees intimidate you.
Actually their bark is worse than their bite." Now it dropped lithely on
board the raft, looking for a comfortable resting place.
"Please don't twine around me," Miss Anspacher said coldly. "If you
insist upon coming with us, you will have to choose an inanimate object
to cling to."
"All right, all right," it tried to soothe her. "No need to get yourself
all worked up over such a mere triviality, is there? I'll just coil
myself tidily around one of those spare logs. I must say you're warmer,
though."
_Yes, she is, isn't she?_ thought the captain, and squeezed her hand.
* * * * *
The raft drifted down the river. Since the current was flowing in the
desired direction, there did not appear to be any need to use the poles,
and everyone sat or reclined as comfortably as possible in the
suffocating heat. The yellow haze had become so thick that they seemed
to be at the bottom of a custard cup.
[Illustration]
"I do hope we're heading the right way," Professor Bernardi said,
_although who knows what is right and what is wrong any more_?
"Perhaps we aren't," Mrs. Bernardi mused, stroking Algol, who had
crawled into her lap. "Perhaps we will go drifting along endlessly.
Every sixteen days, it will get dark and every sixteen days it will get
light, and meanwhile we will continue floating along, never going
anywhere, never getting anywhere, never seeing anything but haze and
raft and river and each other." Algol wheezed in his sleep.
"Nonsense!" Jrann-Pttt said rudely. "I have a compass. I know the
direction perfectly well."
"And yet you let us think we were wandering about blindly." Miss
Anspacher gave him a contemptuous look. The captain pressed her hand.
"Since you seem to breathe the same air and eat much the same food that
we do, Mr. Pitt," Mrs. Bernardi changed her tack, "I suppose we'll be
physically comfortable on your planet for the rest of our lives. Our
children will be born there and our children's children, and eventually
they'll forget all about Earth and think it was only a legend."
"But you did expect to settle permanently on Venus, didn't you?" the
vine asked, bewilderedly. "Or for a long visit, anyway. So I don't
really see that it makes much difference if you go to Jrann-Pttt's Alpha
Centauri place. So much nicer to be living with friends, I should
think."
"But Alpha Centauri is so very far away," Mrs. Bernardi sighed. "There
wouldn't be much chance of our ever getting back."
"Look!" Mortland exclaimed. "The river's branching. Which fork do we
take?"
* * * * *
Jrann-Pttt, who had been dabbling his arms idly in the translucent
violet-blue water, withdrew them hastily as nine green eyes, obviously
belonging to the same individual, rose to the surface and regarded him
with more than casual interest. He consulted his compass. "Left."
"Contrarily!" the mosquito-bat suddenly squeaked, pointing a small rod
at his companions. "Rightward."
There was a stunned silence.
"Monster!" Mortland cried in reproach. "You can talk! How could you
deceive us like that?"
"Can talk," the creature retorted. "Me not intelligent life-form, ha!
Who talks last talks best. Have not linguistic facility of inferior
life-forms, but can communicate rudely in your language."
"Remember," Mortland cautioned, "there are ladies present."
"Have been lying low and laughing to self--ha, ha!--at witlessness of
lowerly life-forms."
"But why?" Mrs. Bernardi demanded distractedly. "Haven't we been kind to
you?"
"You be likewise well treated in our zoo," it assured her. "All of you.
Our zoo finest in Galaxy. And clean, too."
"Now really, sir, I must protest--" Professor Bernardi began, trying to
extricate a blaster unobtrusively from the pile of gear in which the
too-confident terrestrials had cached their weapons.
Monster gestured with his rod. "This is lethal weapon. Do not try
hindrancing me. Hate damage fine specimens. Captain, go rightward."
"Oh, is that so!" Greenfield retorted hotly. "Let me tell you, you--you
insect!"
"George!" Miss Anspacher clutched his arm. "Do what it says. For my
sake, George!"
"Oh, all right," he muttered. "Just for you, then. Told you not to trust
any of 'em," he went on, reluctantly poling the raft in the ordered
direction. "Foreigners!"
"Fine zoo," the mosquito-bat insisted. "Very clean. Run with utmost
efficientness. Strict visiting hours."
* * * * *
"And there goes Plan D," the vine said lightly. There was a hint of
laughter in its voice. Jrann-Pttt stared at it in consternation. "Are
you also from the Alpha Centauri system, sir?" It turned its attention
to the mosquito-bat. "Naturally I'm curious to know where I'm going," it
explained, "since I seem definitely to be included in your gracious
invitation."
"Alpha Centauri, hah!" the mosquito-bat snorted. "I from what Earthlets
laughingly term Sirius. Alpha Centauri merely little star."
"Now see here!" Jrann-Pttt sprang to his feet. Criminal he might be, but
he was not going to sit there and have his sun insulted!
"Gentlemen! Gentlemen!" Miss Anspacher cried. "No use getting yourself
killed, Jrann-Pttt!"
"Correctly," Monster approved. "Elementary intelligence displayed. Why
damage fine specimens?"
_From one prison into another_, the saurian mentalized bitterly.
_Yes_, returned Dfar-Lll, _and it's all your fault._ The junior lizard
burst into tears. _I wish I had let Merglyt-Ruuu do what he wanted. I
would have been better off._
"Sirius," the vine repeated. "That's even farther away than Alpha
Centauri, isn't it? I never thought I would get that far away from the
swamp! This really will be an adventure!"
"How do you know--" Professor Bernardi began.
"Frankly," it went on, "I don't see why you chaps are so put out by the
whole thing. What's the difference between Alpha Centauri and Sirius
anyway? Matter of a few light-years, but otherwise a star's a star for
all that."
"To Jrann-Pttt, we wouldn't have been specimens," Mrs. Bernardi said,
belatedly recognizing the advantages of Alpha Centauri.
"No, not specimens," the vine told her easily. "I don't suppose you know
he had no intention of taking you back to his system. He wanted you to
help him kill the officers of his ship so they couldn't look for him and
the other escaped prisoner or report back to his planet. Then he was
going to put the ship out of commission and found his own colony here
with you as his slaves. I'd just as soon be a specimen as a slave.
Sooner. Better to reign in a zoo than serve in a swamp!"
"Just how do you know all this?" Miss Anspacher demanded.
"It's obvious enough," Bernardi said gloomily. "Another telepath." _How
can we compete or even cope with creatures like these? What a fool I
was to think I could outwit them._
"Telepathy just tricksomeness," the mosquito-bat put in jealously. "I
have no telepathy, yet superior to all."
"But why should Mr. Pitt want to kill his officers?" Mrs. Bernardi asked
querulously. "He's the commandant, isn't he? Or is he a professor? I
never got that straight."
"He was one of the criminals on the ship," the vine told her. "What you
might call a confidence man. This is about the only system in the Galaxy
where he isn't wanted. He did tell you the truth, though, when he said
they were sent on an expedition to collect zoological specimens.
Dangerous work," it sighed, "and so his people use criminals for it.
They were sent out in small detachments. Our friend here killed his
guard in a fight over a female prisoner, which was why--"
"But what happened to the female prisoner?" Miss Anspacher's eye caught
Dfar-Lll's. "Oh, no!" she gasped.
"Why not?" Dfar-Lll demanded. "I'm as much of a female as you are. Maybe
even more."
The captain leaned close to Miss Anspacher. "No one can be more feminine
than you are, Dolores," he whispered.
"But he--she's so young!" Mrs. Bernardi wailed.
The vine made an amused sound. "Don't you have juvenile delinquents on
Earth?"
"Oh, what does all that matter now?" Jrann-Pttt said sullenly. "We're
all going to a Sirian zoo, anyway."
"Correctly," approved the monster-bat. "Finest zoo. Clean. Commodious
cages. Reasonable visiting hours. Very nice."
Mrs. Bernardi began to cry.
"Now," the vine comforted her, "a zoo's not so bad. After all, most of
us spend our lives in cages of one kind or another, and without the
basic security a zoo affords--"
"But we don't know we're in cages," Mrs. Bernardi sobbed. "That's the
important thing."
Professor Bernardi looked at the vine. "But why are you--" he began,
then halted. "Perhaps I don't want an answer," he said. There was no
hope at all left in him, now that there was no doubt.
"You are wise," the vine agreed quietly. Algol arose from Mr. Bernardi's
lap and rubbed against its thick pale green stem. He knew. The
mosquito-bat looked at both of them restlessly.
The yellow haze had deepened to old gold. Now it was beginning to turn
brown.
"It's twilight," Miss Anspacher observed. "Soon it will be dark."
"Perhaps we'll sail right past his ship in the night," Mortland
suggested hopefully.
The mosquito-bat gave a snort. "Ship has lights. All modern
convenients."
Suddenly the air seemed to have grown chilly--colder than it had any
right to be on that torrid planet. All around them, it was dark and very
quiet.
"I think I do see lights," Mortland said.
"Must be ship," Monster replied. And somehow the rest of them could
sense the uneasiness in the thin, piping, alien voice. "Must be!"
"Your ship's a very large one then," Bernardi commented as they rounded
a bend and a whole colony of varicolored pastel lights sprang up ahead
of them.
"Not my ship!" the mosquito-bat exclaimed in a voice pierced with
anguish. "Not my ship!"
Before them rose the fantastic, twisting, convoluting, turning spires of
a tall, marvelous, glittering city.
"You will find that the streets actually are filled with chlorophyll,"
the vine said. "And I know you'll be happy here, all of you. You see, we
can't have you going back to your planets now. No matter how good your
intentions were, you'd destroy us. You do see that, don't you?"
"You may be right," Bernardi agreed dispiritedly, "although that doesn't
cheer us any. But what will you do with us?"
"You'll be provided with living quarters comparable to those on your own
planets," the vine told him, "and you'll give lectures just as if you
were in a university--only you'll be much more secure. I assure you--"
its voice was very gentle now--"you'll hardly know you're in a zoo."