"There's no use trying to poison Fweep," Four said calmly. "He's got no
enzymes to act on, no nervous system to paralyze. He doesn't even use
what he 'eats' on a molecular level at all."
"What level does he use?" Junior wanted to know.
"Point the scintillation counter at him."
Junior dug one of the counters out of the supply cabinet and aimed the
pickup at Fweep. The counter began to hum. As Fweep approached, the hum
rose in pitch. As it passed, the hum dropped.
Junior looked at the counter's dial. "He's radioactive, all right. Not
much, but enough. But where does he get the radioactive material?"
"He uses ordinary matter," Four said. "He must have used up the few
deposits of natural radioactives a long time ago."
"He uses ordinary substances on an atomic level?" Junior said
unbelievingly.
Four nodded. "And that 'skin' of his--whatever it is he uses for
skin--is more efficient in stopping particle emissions than several
feet of lead."
Fred studied Fweep thoughtfully. "Maybe we could feed him enough
enriched uranium from the pile to put him over the critical mass."
"And blow him up? I don't think it's possible, but even if it were, it
might be a trifle more than disastrous for us." Four giggled at the
thought.
* * * * *
Joyce glared at him furiously. "Four! Act your age! We've got to do
something with him. It's preposterous that we should be detained here
at the whim of a mere blob!"
"I don't figure it's a whim," Grampa said. "Circular gravity is what
he's got to have for one reason or another, so he just naturally bends
the space-time continuum around him--conscious or subconscious, I don't
know. But protoplasm is always more efficient than machines, so the
flivver won't move."
"I don't care why that thing does it," Joyce said icily. "I want it
stopped, and the sooner the better. If it won't turn the gravity off,
we'll just have to do away with it."
"How?" asked Four. "Fweep's skin is pretty close to impervious and
you can't shoot him, stab him or poison him. He doesn't breathe, so
you can't drown or strangle him. You can't imprison him; he 'eats'
everything. And violence might be more dangerous to us than to him.
Right now, Fweep is friendly, but suppose he got mad! He could lower
his radioactive shield or he might increase the gravity by a few times.
Either way, you'd feel rather uncomfortable, Grammy."
"Don't call me 'Grammy!' Well, what are we going to do, just sit around
and wait for that thing to die?"
"We'd have a long wait," Four observed. "Fweep is the only one of his
kind on this planet."
"Well?"
"Probably he's immortal."
"And he doesn't reproduce?" Reba asked sympathetically.
"Probably not. If he doesn't die, there's no point in reproduction.
Reproduction is nature's way of providing racial immortality to mortal
creatures."
"But he must have some way of reproduction," Reba argued. "An egg or
something. He couldn't just have sprung into being as he is now."
"Maybe he developed," Four offered. "It seems to me that he's bigger
than when we first landed." "He must have been here a long, long time,"
Fred said. "Fweepland, as Four calls it, kept its atmosphere and its
water, which a planet this size ordinarily would have lost by now."
* * * * *
Reba looked at Fweep kindly. "We can thank the little fellow for that,
anyway."
"I thank him for nothing," Joyce snapped. "He lured us down here by
making us think the planet had heavy metals and I want him to let us go
_immediately_!"
Fred turned impatiently on his wife. "Well, try making him understand!
And if you can make him understand what you want him to do, try making
him do it!"
Joyce looked at Fred with startled eyes. "Fred!" she said in a high,
shocked voice and turned blindly toward her room.
Grampa lowered his bottle and smacked his lips. "Well, boy," he said to
Fred, "I thought you'd never do that. Didn't think you had it in you."
Fred stood up apologetically. "I'd better go calm her down," he
muttered, and walked quickly after Joyce.
"Give her one for me!" Grampa called.
Fred's shoulders twitched as the door closed behind him. From the room
came the filtered sound of high-pitched voices rising and falling like
some reedy folk music.
"Makes you think, doesn't it?" Grampa said, looking at Fweep benignly.
"Maybe the whole theory of gravitation is cockeyed. Maybe there's a
Fweep for every planet and sun, big and little, polarizing the gravity
in circles, and the matter business is not a cause but a result."
"What I can't understand," Junior said thoughtfully, "is why the
polarizer worked for a little while when we landed--long enough to keep
us from being squashed--and then quit."
"Fweep didn't recognize it immediately, didn't know what it was or
where it came from," Four explained. "All he knew was he didn't like
linear polarization and he neutralized it as soon as he could. That's
when we dropped."
* * * * *
"Linear polarization is uncomfortable for him, is it?" Grampa said.
"Makes you wonder how something like Fweep could ever develop."
"He's no more improbable than people," said Four.
"Less than some I've known," Grampa conceded.
"If he can eat anything," Reba said, "why does he keep sweeping the
cabin for dust and lint?"
"He wants to be helpful," Four replied without hesitation, "and he's
lonely. After all," he added wistfully, "he's never had any friends."
"How do you know all these things?" Joyce asked from her doorway,
excitement in her voice. "Can you talk to it?"