He felt confident. He believed that his admiral enjoyed swift and
decisive action, and by suggesting it he hoped to show that his
thoughts ran in the same channels as those of his commander.
Faren Twill said, "It might be better to make allies of them, rather
than enemies."
Twill held the notion that Viggon Sarri's main motivation was to build
and expand in the easiest, and most profitable manner. And he felt that
careful negotiations might pay off better than invasion and strong
conquest.
But in truth Viggon Sarri himself did not know which course to take.
He was not above the use of force, if force were needed. Nor was he
against the idea of peaceful negotiation, even the formation of an
alliance. Which course he would take depended entirely upon what sort
of culture this was, how the people reacted, and what they favored.
For such knowledge he would rely on data collected by Linus Brein and
analyzed by the mathematician's vast bank of computers.
Regin Naylo grunted in a superior tone. "They sound like an inferior
race. Inept and primitive. Let's not waste time."
Faren Twill shook his head. "You want to barge in there with the
projectors flaming and conquer them by force. That would be easy, but
would it leave enough to make the conquest economically sound?"
"Can you sell anything to mice?"
Faren Twill grinned. "Cheese," he suggested. "Besides, an angry gang of
rats can do in an elephant, you know."
"Chicken," sneered Regin Naylo.
Of course none of them had ever seen a mouse, a rat, an elephant,
or a chicken. But on their homeland, a planet called "Brade," there
were myriad life forms, just as on any inhabitable planet. The
forms of animal life mentioned were similar enough to permit a free
transliteration. "Chicken" also existed in its completely alien form.
But until the native tongue of Brade becomes common to Earthmen,
this loose transliteration of their speech characteristics suffices
to convey their meaning. Since their grammar bears no relation to
any Solarian tongue, it must be converted rather than translated, or
even transliterated. So if they sound like people of Earth instead of
extra-solar aliens, that is the only way to convey their meaning.
"Twill is right," said Viggon Sarri. "We must be wary. This may be a
communal culture, like that of the insect, ant, in which the individual
is expendable so long as the nucleus is undamaged. In such a case
suicide fighters would swarm over us, and against such we could not
stand. If, on the other hand, this is a completely individualistic, or
anarchic culture, we must call Brade for help. We would need a horde of
space fighters to control the entire group." He looked at Linus Brein.
"You will, of course, have their language analyzed?"
"We are working on it now. It is not difficult to connect the sound
forms with the meaning, under known conditions and situations. But
it is extremely difficult to make such analysis when we have not the
foggiest notion of what situation is being described by the sounds. I--"
* * * * *
A winking light on the wall called his attention. Linus Brein touched a
stud on an armlet. The tiny communicator said, in a thin, tinny voice:
"Commander Brein? Analyst Hogar speaking. The space-strain detectors
have just picked up a violent response. The computer-analyzer bands
report the following probability to at least three nines: That a space
craft has foundered due to the failure of the warp-generator. Have you
any orders as to our next moves?"
"Yes, Hogar. Record everything. Analyze everything!" He let the stud
snap back into place, then said to Viggon Sarri:
"An ill wind blows, Admiral Sarri. Their misfortune may be our gain."
"It might indeed." Viggon nodded.
"I suggest that we send a fleeter out to seek survivors," said Regin
Naylo.
"No," said Faren Twill. "We will learn more by listening to their
communications and watching how they face this problem."
"What's better than a being able to interpret his own sounds?" snapped
Naylo.
"Taking a little longer by doing it ourselves, and not giving them any
warning that there stands another intelligent race not far offside. Why
forearm them?"
"Right," interposed Viggon Sarri. "We watch from a distance."
Linus Brein stood up. "I'd best be going back," he said. "This language
analysis may get deeply involved. I'd feel better if I could supervise
it myself. May I leave, Admiral Sarri?"
"We'll all leave. This conference is over until more detailed
information is at hand. My orders are: Take no action, but observe
closely and critically. Dismissed, gentlemen. We'll all drink to
success!"
Viggon Sarri pressed the stud on his armlet and ordered a tray of
refreshments. Linus Brein did not stay for his share.