[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
February 1958
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
"I have come to discuss a very grave problem," said the
talking-attendant.
"Then let's get down to details," said Chester Forge. "It's urgent you
said."
Interviews with Ravians always made Chester nervous. They wouldn't use
the psi-control voice sets, and there was something uncanny in talking
to a human, a talking-attendant, when you knew it wasn't the man
speaking at all, but the alien intelligence he was temporarily host to.
It was even more unsettling when the Ravian was a high official,
as at present. Their minds were even more coldly intellectual, dry
and logical than the usual Ravian tourist's. And they could make a
lot of trouble. Chester's job as tour-chief here at Knoxville--more
specifically, Port Knoxville, where the ships came in--was to keep the
tourists happy as possible. No, not happy. Happiness is an emotion.
Satisfied maybe.
"There are scant useful details I can give you," said Monnn, the
Ravian, through the lips of the talking-attendant. "There was a
stowaway on the sightseeing ship that came in this morning--one of our
people. He is a fugitive. He has left the ship and is here on earth
somewhere, perhaps in Knoxville. He must be captured."
Chester Forge was jolted, but he had found you got on better with
Ravians if you never showed feelings. He made his voice calm.
"A fugitive, hmmm? What was his crime?"
"The question is immaterial," said Monnn. "So typical of your people.
But I suppose you will function better if not bothered by curiosity.
Minnn, the stowaway, told a lie."
"A lie?"
"The worst of crimes. Minnn was a politician, campaigning for office,
and he lied in making a promise he could not execute."
By Joe, thought Chester, now I've heard them all. Well, the rule is you
never, never question the tastes of an alien. The Martians have a mad
passion for hop-toads, the Zarlos like to have things hurt them, the
Frin talk all the time and the Rorn don't talk at all, and--
"We'll get him for you," said Chester more firmly than he felt.
"We feel you may fail," said the Ravian. "We ask permission to send our
own searchers, no quota on numbers, open-area travel permission."
Chester went white. "I'm afraid we can't grant that. I promise we'll
get him for you."
"Why can you not grant that?"
"Well--population. There aren't enough volunteers to host any more than
the present quota, and of course you can't get around without hosts."
"How human," said Monnn through the attendant. "You are afraid of us.
Yet you know we have no desire at all for this planet, and that we know
you know this.
"Why do you lie? On our planet you would be treated as Minnn will
be--your personality dismembered, the useful parts assigned to another,
the imperfect disposed of."
"Be that as it may," said Chester, a chill in his spine. "We will find
this fugitive ourselves."
"Of course. And if you do not, within two of your days, we must come
to search ourselves. One more thing--Minnn may turn killer. And now I
shall retire--manipulating this organism is most fatiguing."
The talking-attendant stood blank-faced for a moment as the Ravian
withdrew to some nook of his mentality. Then he blinked and peered
around, discovered he was in Forge's office, and saluted.
"That's okay, John," said Chester. "Thanks. Take him back to his husk."
The attendant left and Chester picked up his visor, punching the button
for Security Chief....
* * * * *
On Clinch Street, little Sally Odum was walking home from school. She
turned down an alley for a shortcut, and there she saw the toy. It
was a black, fringed globe, a little larger than a grapefruit. "Gee!"
exclaimed Sally, and reached out and grabbed it.
The globe changed from black to gray, from shiny to dull, and from firm
to flaccid. Sally felt a little tingle in her fingertips, a tiny tug
in her mind. Looking thoughtful, she slipped the limp toy under her
jacket. She trotted home, hid the thing at the bottom of her toy box,
and promptly forgot about ever finding it.
Minnn, exhausted from the psionic strain of rolling his body through
the thick earth air all the way from the port to the city, and then
directing the feeling and movement of Sally, made one little adjustment
in her memory, then turned off his awareness and rested. In the rich
rush of mental currents he would soon be replenished. In the meantime
he was safe....
* * * * *
The Ravian had given Chester Forge two days to find Minnn. A day had
passed and nothing had happened. He had kept things quiet, up to now.
There was no indication his quiet search would produce anything. It was
time for a different tactic....
* * * * *
Sally Odum's father looked up from the news-sheets that had just come
off the clicker. "Mary, did you see these items about the Ravian loose
in the city?"
His wife was playing chack with Sally. The child had beaten her four
games running, and Mary was just beginning to wonder if she was mother
to a genius. A mother does not appreciate interruption of such
musings. "Ah--no," she answered absently. "What about um?"
"Seems this bird--Minnn's his tag--is thought to be hiding out in some
human around town. He forced."