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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/19076-h.zip b/19076-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..37a9e14 --- /dev/null +++ b/19076-h.zip diff --git a/19076-h/19076-h.htm b/19076-h/19076-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6d550d0 --- /dev/null +++ b/19076-h/19076-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3844 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Naudsonce, by H. Beam Piper + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + .tr { text-align: center; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 5%; + margin-bottom: 5%; + padding: 1em; + background-color: #f6f2f2; + color: black; + border: solid black 1px;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + visibility: hidden; + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + + .blurb {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%;} + .center {text-align: center;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Naudsonce, by H. Beam Piper + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Naudsonce + +Author: H. Beam Piper + +Illustrator: Morey + +Release Date: August 18, 2006 [EBook #19076] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NAUDSONCE *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, William Woods, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p class="tr">Transcriber's note: <br /> +This etext was produced from <i>Analog Science Fact—Science Fiction</i>, +January 1962. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the copyright +on this publication was renewed.</p> + + + + +<h1>NAUDSONCE</h1> +<p> </p> +<div class="blurb"><p> +Bishop Berkeley's famous question<br /> +about the sound of a falling tree<br /> +may have no standing in Science.<br /> +But there is a highly interesting<br /> +question about "sound" that Science<br /> +needs to consider....<br /> +</p></div> +<p> </p> +<h2>BY H. BEAM PIPER</h2> + +<h4>ILLUSTRATED BY MOREY</h4> + +<p> </p> +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> + +<!-- Page 001 image shifted down below credits. --> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 312px;"><span class="figleft" style="width: 312px;"><img src="images/image01.png" width="312" height="437" alt="Terrans wait to meet Svants" title="Terrans wait to meet Svants" /></span></div> + +<p>The sun warmed Mark Howell's back +pleasantly. Underfoot, the mosslike +stuff was soft and yielding, and there +was a fragrance in the air unlike anything +he had ever smelled. He was +going to like this planet; he knew it. +The question was, how would it, and +its people, like him? He watched the +little figures advancing across the +fields from the mound, with the village +out of sight on the other end of +it and the combat-car circling lazily +on contragravity above.</p> + +<p>Major Luis Gofredo, the Marine +officer, spoke without lowering his +binoculars:</p> + +<p>"They have a tubular thing about +twelve feet long; six of them are +carrying it on poles, three to a side, +and a couple more are walking behind +it. Mark, do you think it could +be a cannon?"</p> + +<p>So far, he didn't know enough to +have an opinion, and said so, +adding:</p> + +<p>"What I saw of the village in the +screen from the car, it looked pretty +primitive. Of course, gunpowder's +one of those things a primitive people +could discover by accident, if the +ingredients were available."</p> + +<p>"We won't take any chances, +then."</p> + +<p>"You think they're hostile? I was +hoping they were coming out to +parley with us."</p> + +<p>That was Paul Meillard. He had a +right to be anxious; his whole future +in the Colonial Office would be made +or ruined by what was going to +happen here.</p> + +<p>The joint Space Navy-Colonial +Office expedition was looking for +new planets suitable for colonization; +they had been out, now, for +four years, which was close to maximum +for an exploring expedition. +They had entered eleven systems, +and made landings on eight planets. +Three had been reasonably close to +Terra-type. There had been Fafnir; +conditions there would correspond +to Terra during the Cretaceous Period, +but any Cretaceous dinosaur +would have been cute and cuddly to +the things on Fafnir. Then there had +been Imhotep; in twenty or thirty +thousand years, it would be a fine +planet, but at present it was undergoing +an extensive glaciation. And +Irminsul, covered with forests of +gigantic trees; it would have been +fine except for the fauna, which was +nasty, especially a race of subsapient +near-humanoids who had just gotten +as far as clubs and <i>coup-de-poing</i> +axes. Contact with them had entailed +heavy ammunition expenditure, +with two men and a woman +killed and a dozen injured. He'd had +a limp, himself, for a while as a +result.</p> + +<p>As for the other five, one had +been an all-out hell-planet, and the +rest had been the sort that get colonized +by irreconcilable minority-groups +who want to get away from +everybody else. The Colonial Office +wouldn't even consider any of them.</p> + +<p>Then they had found this one, +third of a G0-star, eighty million +miles from primary, less axial inclination +than Terra, which would +mean a more uniform year-round<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +temperature, and about half land +surface. On the evidence of a couple +of sneak landings for specimens, the +biochemistry was identical with +Terra's and the organic matter was +edible. It was the sort of planet +every explorer dreams of finding, +except for one thing.</p> + +<p>It was inhabited by a sapient humanoid +race, and some of them +were civilized enough to put it in +Class V, and Colonial Office doctrine +on Class V planets was rigid. +Friendly relations with the natives +had to be established, and permission +to settle had to be guaranteed +in a treaty of some sort with somebody +more or less authorized to +make one.</p> + +<p>If Paul Meillard could accomplish +that, he had it made. He would stay +on with forty or fifty of the ship's +company to make preparations. In a +year a couple of ships would come +out from Terra, with a thousand +colonists, and a battalion or so of +Federation troops, to protect them +from the natives and vice versa. +Meillard would automatically be appointed +governor-general.</p> + +<p>But if he failed, he was through. +Not out—just through. When he got +back to Terra, he would be promoted +to some home office position at +slightly higher base pay but without +the three hundred per cent extraterrestrial +bonus, and he would +vegetate there till he retired. Every +time his name came up, somebody +would say, "Oh, yes; he flubbed the +contact on Whatzit."</p> + +<p>It wouldn't do the rest of them +any good, either. There would always +be the suspicion that they had +contributed to the failure.</p> + +<!-- Page 002 image shifted down to separate it from page 001 image. +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +--> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><span class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><img src="images/image02.jpg" width="600" height="809" alt="Svants come out to meet Terrans" title="Svants come out to meet Terrans" /></span></div> + +<p><i>Bwaaa-waaa-waaanh!</i></p> + +<p>The wavering sound hung for an +instant in the air. A few seconds +later, it was repeated, then repeated +again.</p> + +<p>"Our cannon's a horn," Gofredo +said. "I can't see how they're blowing +it, though."</p> + +<p>There was a stir to right and left, +among the Marines deployed in a +crescent line on either side of the +contact team; a metallic clatter as +weapons were checked. A shadow +fell in front of them as a combat-car +moved into position above.</p> + +<p>"What do you suppose it means?" +Meillard wondered.</p> + +<p>"Terrans, go home." He drew a +frown from Meillard with the suggestion. +"Maybe it's supposed to intimidate +us."</p> + +<p>"They're probably doing it to encourage +themselves," Anna de Jong, +the psychologist, said. "I'll bet +they're really scared stiff."</p> + +<p>"I see how they're blowing it," +Gofredo said. "The man who's walking +behind it has a hand-bellows." +He raised his voice. "Fix bayonets! +These people don't know anything +about rifles, but they know what +spears are. They have some of their +own."</p> + +<p>So they had. The six who walked +in the lead were unarmed, unless the +thing one of them carried was a +spear. So, it seemed, were the horn-bearers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +Behind them, however, in +an open-order skirmish-line, came +fifty-odd with weapons. Most of +them had spears, the points glinting +redly. Bronze, with a high copper +content. A few had bows. They came +slowly; details became more plainly +visible.</p> + +<p>The leader wore a long yellow +robe; the thing in his hand was a +bronze-headed staff. Three of his +companions also wore robes; the +other two were bare-legged in short +tunics. The horn-bearers wore either +robes or tunics; the spearmen and +bowmen behind either wore tunics +or were naked except for breechclouts. +All wore sandals. They were +red-brown in color, completely hairless; +they had long necks, almost +chinless lower jaws, and fleshy, +beaklike noses that gave them an +avian appearance which was heightened +by red crests, like roosters' +combs, on the tops of their heads.</p> + +<p>"Well, aren't they something to +see?" Lillian Ransby, the linguist +asked.</p> + +<p>"I wonder how we look to them," +Paul Meillard said.</p> + +<p>That was something to wonder +about, too. The differences between +one and another of the Terrans must +puzzle them. Paul Meillard, as close +to being a pure Negro as anybody in +the Seventh Century of the Atomic +Era was to being pure anything. Lillian +Ransby, almost ash-blond. Major +Gofredo, barely over the minimum +Service height requirement; his +name was Old Terran Spanish, but +his ancestry must have been Polynesian, +Amerind and Mongolian. Karl +Dorver, the sociographer, six feet +six, with red hair. Bennet Fayon, the +biologist and physiologist, plump, +pink-faced and balding. Willi Schallenmacher, +with a bushy black +beard....</p> + +<p>They didn't have any ears, he noticed, +and then he was taking stock +of the things they wore and carried. +Belts, with pouches, and knives with +flat bronze blades and riveted handles. +Three of the delegation had +small flutes hung by cords around +their necks, and a fourth had a reed +Pan-pipe. No shields, and no swords; +that was good. Swords and shields +mean organized warfare, possibly a +warrior-caste. This crowd weren't +warriors. The spearmen and bowmen +weren't arrayed for battle, but +for a drive-hunt, with the bows behind +the spears to stop anything that +broke through the line.</p> + +<p>"All right; let's go meet them." +The querulous, uncertain note was +gone from Meillard's voice; he knew +what to do and how to do it.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Gofredo called to the Marines to +stand fast. Then they were advancing +to meet the natives, and when +they were twenty feet apart, both +groups halted. The horn stopped +blowing. The one in the yellow robe +lifted his staff and said something +that sounded like, "<i>Tweedle-eedle-oodly-eenk</i>."</p> + +<p>The horn, he saw, was made of +strips of leather, wound spirally and +coated with some kind of varnish.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +Everything these people had was +carefully and finely made. An old +culture, but a static one. Probably +tradition-bound as all get-out.</p> + +<p>Meillard was raising his hands; +solemnly he addressed the natives:</p> + +<p>"'Twas brillig and the slithy toves +were whooping it up in the Malemute +Saloon, and the kid that +handled the music box did gyre and +gimble in the wabe, and back of the +bar in a solo game all mimsy were +the borogoves, and the mome raths +outgabe the lady that's known as +Lou."</p> + +<p>That was supposed to show them +that we, too, have a spoken language, +to prove that their language +and ours were mutually incomprehensible, +and to demonstrate the +need for devising a means of communication. +At least that was what +the book said. It demonstrated +nothing of the sort to this crowd. It +scared them. The dignitary with the +staff twittered excitedly. One of his +companions agreed with him at +length. Another started to reach for +his knife, then remembered his manners. +The bellowsman pumped a few +blasts on the horn.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of the language?" +he asked Lillian.</p> + +<p>"They all sound that bad, when +you first hear them. Give them a few +seconds, and then we'll have Phase +Two."</p> + +<p>When the gibbering and skreeking +began to fall off, she stepped forward. +Lillian was, herself, a good +test of how human aliens were; this +gang weren't human enough to +whistle at her. She touched herself +on the breast. "Me," she said.</p> + +<p>The natives seemed shocked. She +repeated the gesture and the word, +then turned and addressed Paul +Meillard. "You."</p> + +<p>"Me," Meillard said, pointing to +himself. Then he said, "You," to +Luis Gofredo. It went around the +contact team; when it came to him, +he returned it to point of origin.</p> + +<p>"I don't think they get it at all," +he added in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"They ought to," Lillian said. +"Every language has a word for self +and a word for person-addressed."</p> + +<p>"Well, look at them," Karl Dorver +invited. "Six different opinions about +what we mean, and now the band's +starting an argument of their own."</p> + +<p>"Phase Two-A," Lillian said firmly, +stepping forward. She pointed to +herself. "Me—Lillian Ransby. Lillian +Ransby—me <i>name</i>. You—<i>name?</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>Bwoooo!</i>" the spokesman +screamed in horror, clutching his +staff as though to shield it from profanation. +The others howled like a +hound-pack at a full moon, except +one of the short-tunic boys, who was +slapping himself on the head with +both hands and yodeling. The horn-crew +hastily swung their piece +around at the Terrans, pumping +frantically.</p> + +<p>"What do you suppose I said?" +Lillian asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, something like, 'Curse your +gods, death to your king, and spit in +your mother's face,' I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Let me try it," Gofredo said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> + +<p>The little Marine major went +through the same routine. At his +first word, the uproar stopped; before +he was through, the natives' +faces were sagging and crumbling +into expressions of utter and heartbroken +grief.</p> + +<p>"It's not as bad as all that, is it?" +he said. "You try it, Mark."</p> + +<p>"Me ... Mark ... Howell...." +They looked bewildered.</p> + +<p>"Let's try objects, and play-acting," +Lillian suggested. "They're +farmers; they ought to have a word +for water."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>They spent almost an hour at it. +They poured out two gallons of +water, pretended to be thirsty, gave +each other drinks. The natives simply +couldn't agree on the word, in +their own language, for water. That +or else they missed the point of the +whole act. They tried fire, next. The +efficiency of a steel hatchet was impressive, +and so was the sudden +flame of a pocket-lighter, but no +word for fire emerged, either.</p> + +<p>"Ah, to Niflheim with it!" Luis +Gofredo cried in exasperation. +"We're getting nowhere at five times +light speed. Give them their presents +and send them home, Paul."</p> + +<p>"Sheath-knives; they'll have to be +shown how sharp they are," he suggested. +"Red bandannas. And costume +jewelry."</p> + +<p>"How about something to eat, +Bennet?" Meillard asked Fayon.</p> + +<p>"Extee Three, and C-H trade candy," +Fayon said. Field Ration, Extraterrestrial +Service, Type Three, +could be eaten by anything with a +carbon-hydrogen metabolism, and +so could the trade candy. "Nothing +else, though, till we have some idea +what goes on inside them."</p> + +<p>Dorver thought the six members +of the delegation would be persons of +special consequence, and should have +something extra. That was probably +so. Dorver was as quick to pick up +clues to an alien social order as he +was, himself, to deduce a culture pattern +from a few artifacts. He and Lillian +went back to the landing craft to +collect the presents.</p> + +<p>Everybody, horn-detail, armed +guard and all, got one ten-inch bowie +knife and sheath, a red bandanna +neckcloth, and a piece of flashy junk +jewelry. The (town council? prominent +citizens? or what?) also received +a colored table-spread apiece; these +were draped over their shoulders and +fastened with two-inch plastic pins +advertising the candidacy of somebody +for President of the Federation +Member Republic of Venus a couple +of elections ago. They all looked +woebegone about it; that would be +their expression of joy. Different type +nerves and different facial musculature, +Fayon thought. As soon as +they sampled the Extee Three and +candy, they looked crushed under all +the sorrows of the galaxy.</p> + +<p>By pantomime and pointing to the +sun, Meillard managed to inform +them that the next day, when the sun +was in the same position, the Terrans +would visit their village, bringing +more gifts. The natives were +quite agreeable, but Meillard was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +disgruntled that he had to use sign-talk. +The natives started off toward +the village on the mound, munching +Extee Three and trying out their +new knives. This time tomorrow, +half of them would have bandaged +thumbs.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The Marine riflemen and submachine-gunners +were coming in, slinging +their weapons and lighting cigarettes. +A couple of Navy technicians +were getting a snooper—a thing +shaped like a short-tailed tadpole, six +feet long by three at the widest, fitted +with visible-light and infra-red screen +pickups and crammed with detection +instruments—ready to relieve the +combat car over the village. The +contact team crowded into the Number +One landing craft, which had +been fitted out as a temporary headquarters. +Prefab-hut elements were +already being unloaded from the +other craft.</p> + +<p>Everybody felt that a drink was in +order, even if it was two hours short +of cocktail time. They carried bottles +and glasses and ice to the front of the +landing craft and sat down in front of +the battery of view and communication +screens. The central screen was +a two-way, tuned to one in the officers' +lounge aboard the <i>Hubert +Penrose</i>, two hundred miles above. +In it, also provided with drinks, were +Captain Guy Vindinho and two other +Navy officers, and a Marine captain +in shipboard blues. Like Gofredo, +Vindinho must have gotten +into the Service on tiptoe; he had a +bald dome and a red beard, and he +always looked as though he were +gloating because nobody knew that +his name was really Rumplestiltskin. +He had been watching the contact by +screen. He lifted his glass toward +Meillard.</p> + +<p>"Over the hump, Paul?"</p> + +<p>Meillard raised his drink to Vindinho. +"Over the first one. There's a +whole string of them ahead. At least, +we sent them away happy. I hope."</p> + +<p>"You're going to make permanent +camp where you are now?" one of +the other officers asked. Lieutenant-Commander +Dave Questell; ground +engineering and construction officer. +"What do you need?"</p> + +<p>There were two viewscreens from +pickups aboard the 2500-foot battle +cruiser. One, at ten-power magnification, +gave a maplike view of the +broad valley and the uplands and +mountain foothills to the south. It +was only by tracing the course of the +main river and its tributaries that +they could find the tiny spot of the +native village, and they couldn't see +the landing craft at all. The other, at +a hundred power, showed the oblong +mound, with the village on its flat +top, little dots around a circular central +plaza. They could see the two +turtle-shaped landing-craft, and the +combat car, that had been circling +over the mound, landing beside +them, and, sometimes, a glint of sunlight +from the snooper that had taken its place.</p> + +<p>The snooper was also transmitting +in, to another screen, from two hundred +feet above the village. From the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +sound outlet came an incessant gibber +of native voices. There were over +a hundred houses, all small and +square, with pyramidal roofs. On the +end of the mound toward the Terran +camp, animals of at least four +different species were crowded, cattle +that had been herded up from the +meadows at the first alarm. The open +circle in the middle of the village was +crowded, and more natives lined the +low palisade along the edge of the +mound.</p> + +<p>"Well, we're going to stay here till +we learn the language," Meillard was +saying. "This is the best place for it. +It's completely isolated, forests on +both sides, and seventy miles to the +nearest other village. If we're careful, +we can stay here as long as we +want to and nobody'll find out about +us. Then, after we can talk with these +people, we'll go to the big town."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The big town was two hundred and +fifty miles down the valley, at the +forks of the main river, a veritable +metropolis of almost three thousand +people. That was where the treaty +would have to be negotiated.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/image09.jpg" width="300" height="856" alt="... But no two of them +speak the same language!" title="... But no two of them speak the same language!" /><br /> +<i>"... But no two of them +speak the same language!"</i> +</div> + +<p>"You'll want more huts. You'll +want a water tank, and a pipeline to +that stream below you, and a pump," +Questell said. "You think a month?"</p> + +<p>Meillard looked at Lillian Ransby. +"What do you think?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> + +<p>"<i>Poodly-doodly-oodly-foodle</i>," she +said. "You saw how far we didn't +get this afternoon. All we found out +was that none of the standard procedures +work at all." She made a tossing +gesture over her shoulder. "There +goes the book; we have to do it off +the cuff from here."</p> + +<p>"Suppose we make another landing, +back in the mountains, say two +or three hundred miles south of you," +Vindinho said. "It's not right to keep +the rest aboard two hundred miles off +planet, and you won't be wanting liberty +parties coming down where you +are."</p> + +<p>"The country over there looks uninhabited," +Meillard said. "No villages, +anyhow. That wouldn't hurt, +at all."</p> + +<p>"Well, it'll suit me," Charley +Loughran, the xeno-naturalist, said. +"I want a chance to study the life-forms +in a state of nature."</p> + +<p>Vindinho nodded. "Luis, do you +anticipate any trouble with this +crowd here?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"How about it, Mark? What do +they look like to you? Warlike?"</p> + +<p>"No." He stated the opinion he +had formed. "I had a close look at +their weapons when they came in +for their presents. Hunting arms. +Most of the spears have cross-guards, +usually wooden, lashed on, to prevent +a wounded animal from running +up the spear-shaft at the hunter. +They made boar-spears like that on +Terra a thousand years ago. Maybe +they have to fight raiding parties +from the hills once in a while, but not +often enough for them to develop +special fighting weapons or techniques."</p> + +<p>"Their village is fortified," Meillard +mentioned.</p> + +<p>"I question that," Gofredo differed. +"There won't be more than a +total of five hundred there; call that +a fighting strength of two hundred, +to defend a twenty-five-​hundred-​meter +perimeter, with woodchoppers' +axes and bows and spears. If you notice, +there's no wall around the village +itself. That palisade is just a +fence."</p> + +<p>"Why would they mound the village +up?" Questell, in the screen wondered. +"You don't think the river gets +up that high, do you? Because if it +does—"</p> + +<p>Schallenmacher shook his head. +"There just isn't enough watershed, +and there's too much valley. I'll be +very much surprised if that stream, +there"—he nodded at the hundred-power +screen—"ever gets more than +six inches over the bank."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what those houses +are built of. This is all alluvial country; +building stone would be almost +unobtainable. I don't see anything +like a brick kiln. I don't see any evidence +of irrigation, either, so there +must be plenty of rainfall. If they +use adobe, or sun-dried brick, houses +would start to crumble in a few +years, and they would be pulled +down and the rubble shoved aside to +make room for a new house. The village +has been rising on its own ruins, +probably shifting back and forth +from one end of that mound to the +other."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If that's it, they've been there a +long time," Karl Dorver said. "And +how far have they advanced?"</p> + +<p>"Early bronze; I'll bet they still use +a lot of stone implements. Pre-dynastic +Egypt, or very early Tigris-Euphrates, +in Terran terms. I can't +see any evidence that they have the +wheel. They have draft animals; +when we were coming down, I saw a +few of them pulling pole travoises. +I'd say they've been farming for a +long time. They have quite a diversity +of crops, and I suspect that they +have some idea of crop-rotation. I'm +amazed at their musical instruments; +they seem to have put more skill into +making them than anything else. I'm +going to take a jeep, while they're +all in the village, and have a look +around the fields, now."</p> + +<p>Charley Loughran went along for +specimens, and, for the ride, Lillian +Ransby. Most of his guesses, he +found, had been correct. He found a +number of pole travoises, from +which the animals had been unhitched +in the first panic when the +landing craft had been coming down. +Some of them had big baskets permanently +attached. There were drag-marks +everywhere in the soft ground, +but not a single wheel track. He +found one plow, cunningly put together +with wooden pegs and rawhide +lashings; the point was stone, +and it would only score a narrow +groove, not a proper furrow. It +was, however, fitted with a big +bronze ring to which a draft animal +could be hitched. Most of the cultivation +seemed to have been done +with spades and hoes. He found a +couple of each, bronze, cast flat in an +open-top mold. They hadn't learned +to make composite molds.</p> + +<p>There was an even wider variety of +crops than he had expected: two cereals, +a number of different root-plants, +and a lot of different legumes, +and things like tomatoes and pumpkins.</p> + +<p>"Bet these people had a pretty +good life, here—before the Terrans +came," Charley observed.</p> + +<p>"Don't say that in front of Paul," +Lillian warned. "He has enough to +worry about now, without starting +him on whether we'll do these people +more harm than good."</p> + +<p>Two more landing craft had come +down from the <i>Hubert Penrose</i>; they +found Dave Questell superintending +the unloading of more prefab-huts, +and two were already up that had +been brought down with the first +landing.</p> + +<p>A name for the planet had also +arrived.</p> + +<p>"Svantovit," Karl Dorver told +him. "Principal god of the Baltic +Slavs, about three thousand years +ago. Guy Vindinho dug it out of the +'Encyclopedia of Mythology.' Svantovit +was represented as holding a +bow in one hand and a horn in the +other."</p> + +<p>"Well, that fits. What will we call +the natives; Svantovitians, or Svantovese?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Paul wanted to call them +Svantovese, but Luis persuaded him +to call them Svants. He said everybody'd +call them that, anyhow, so we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +might as well make it official from +the start."</p> + +<p>"We can call the language Svantovese," +Lillian decided. "After dinner, +I am going to start playing back recordings +and running off audiovisuals. +I will be so happy to know that I +have a name for what I'm studying. +Probably be all I will know."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>After dinner, he and Karl and Paul +went into a huddle on what sort of +gifts to give the natives, and the advisability +of trading with them, and +for what. Nothing too far in advance +of their present culture level. +Wheels; they could be made in the +fabricating shop aboard the ship.</p> + +<p>"You know, it's odd," Karl Dorver +said. "These people here have never +seen a wheel, and, except in documentary +or historical-drama films, +neither have a lot of Terrans."</p> + +<p>That was true. As a means of +transportation, the wheel had been +completely obsolete since the development +of contragravity, six centuries +ago. Well, a lot of Terrans in the +Year Zero had never seen a suit of +armor, or an harquebus, or even a +tinder box or a spinning wheel.</p> + +<p>Wheelbarrows; now there was +something they'd find useful. He +screened Max Milzer, in charge of the +fabricating and repair shops on the +ship. Max had never even heard of a +wheelbarrow.</p> + +<p>"I can make them up, Mark; better +send me some drawings, though. +Did you just invent it?"</p> + +<p>"As far as I know, a man named +Leonardo da Vinci invented it, in the +Sixth Century Pre-Atomic. How +soon can you get me half a dozen of +them?"</p> + +<p>"Well, let's see. Welded sheet metal, +and pipe for the frame and handles. +I'll have some of them for you +by noon tomorrow. Now, about +hoes; how tall are these people, and +how long are their arms, and how +far can they stoop over?"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>They were all up late, that night. +So were the Svants; there was a fire +burning in the middle of the village, +and watch-fires along the edge of the +mound. Luis Gofredo was just as distrustful +of them as they were of the +Terrans; he kept the camp lighted, a +strong guard on the alert, and the +area of darkness beyond infra red +lighted and covered by photoelectric +sentries on the ground and snoopers +in the air. Like Paul Meillard, Luis +Gofredo was a worrier and a pessimist. +Everything happened for the +worst in this worst of all possible +galaxies, and if anything could conceivably +go wrong, it infallibly +would. That was probably why he +was still alive and had never had a +command massacred.</p> + +<p>The wheelbarrows, four of them, +came down from the ship by midmorning. +With them came a grindstone, +a couple of crosscut saws, and +a lot of picks and shovels and axes, +and cases of sheath knives and mess +gear and miscellaneous trade goods, +including a lot of the empty wine and +whisky bottles that had been hoarded +for the past four years.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> + +<p>At lunch, the talk was almost exclusively +about the language problem. +Lillian Ransby, who had not +gotten to sleep before sunrise and +had just gotten up, was discouraged.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what we're going to +do next," she admitted. "Glenn Orent +and Anna and I were on it all night, +and we're nowhere. We have about a +hundred wordlike sounds isolated, +and twenty or so are used repeatedly, +and we can't assign a meaning to any +of them. And none of the Svants +ever reacted the same way twice to +anything we said to them. There's +just no one-to-one relationship anywhere."</p> + +<p>"I'm beginning to doubt they have +a language," the Navy intelligence +officer said. "Sure, they make a lot +of vocal noise. So do chipmunks."</p> + +<p>"They have to have a language," +Anna de Jong declared. "No sapient +thought is possible without verbalization."</p> + +<p>"Well, no society like that is possible +without some means of communication," +Karl Dorver supported +her from the other flank. He seemed +to have made that point before. +"You know," he added, "I'm beginning +to wonder if it mightn't be telepathy."</p> + +<p>He evidently hadn't suggested that +before. The others looked at him +in surprise. Anna started to say, "Oh, +I doubt if—" and then stopped.</p> + +<p>"I know, the race of telepaths is an +old gimmick that's been used in new-planet +adventure stories for centuries, +but maybe we've finally found +one."</p> + +<p>"I don't like it, Karl," Loughran +said. "If they're telepaths, why don't +they understand us? And if they're +telepaths, why do they talk at all? +And you can't convince me that this +boodly-oodly-doodle of theirs isn't +talking."</p> + +<p>"Well, our neural structure and +theirs won't be nearly alike," Fayon +said. "I know, this analogy between +telepathy and radio is full of holes, +but it's good enough for this. Our +wave length can't be picked up with +their sets."</p> + +<p>"The deuce it can't," Gofredo contradicted. +"I've been bothered about +that from the beginning. These people +act as though they got meaning +from us. Not the meaning we intend, +but some meaning. When Paul made +the gobbledygook speech, they all reacted +in the same way—frightened, +and then defensive. The you-me routine +simply bewildered them, as we'd +be at a set of semantically lucid but +self-contradictory statements. When +Lillian tried to introduce herself, they +were shocked and horrified...."</p> + +<p>"It looked to me like actual physical +disgust," Anna interpolated.</p> + +<p>"When I tried it, they acted like a +lot of puppies being petted, and when +Mark tried it, they were simply baffled. +I watched Mark explaining that +steel knives were dangerously sharp; +they got the demonstration, but +when he tried to tie words onto it, +it threw them completely."</p> + +<p>"ALL RIGHT. Pass that," Loughran +conceded. "But if they have telepathy, +why do they use spoken +words?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I can answer that," Anna +said. "Say they communicated by +speech originally, and developed +their telepathic faculty slowly and +without realizing it. They'd go on using +speech, and since the message +would be received telepathically +ahead of the spoken message, nobody +would pay any attention to the words +as such. Everybody would have a +spoken language of his own; it would +be sort of the instrumental accompaniment +to the song."</p> + +<p>"Some of them don't bother speaking," +Karl nodded. "They just toot."</p> + +<p>"I'll buy that, right away," Loughran +agreed. "In mating, or in group-danger +situations, telepathy would be +a race-survival characteristic. It +would be selected for genetically, and +the non-gifted strains would tend to +die out."</p> + +<p>It wouldn't do. It wouldn't do at +all. He said so.</p> + +<p>"Look at their technology. We +either have a young race, just +emerged from savagery, or an old, +stagnant race. All indications seem to +favor the latter. A young race would +not have time to develop telepathy as +Anna suggests. An old race would +have gone much farther than these +people have. Progress is a matter of +communication and pooling ideas +and discoveries. Make a trend-graph +of technological progress on Terra; +every big jump comes after an improvement +in communications. The +printing press; railways and steamships; +the telegraph; radio. Then +think how telepathy would speed up +progress."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The sun was barely past noon meridian +before the Svants, who had +ventured down into the fields at sunrise, +were returning to the mound-village. +In the snooper-screen, they +could be seen coming up in tunics +and breechclouts, entering houses, +and emerging in long robes. There +seemed to be no bows or spears in +evidence, but the big horn sounded +occasionally. Paul Meillard was +pleased. Even if it had been by sign-talk, +which he rated with worm-fishing +for trout or shooting sitting rabbits, +he had gotten something across +to them.</p> + +<p>When they went to the village, at +1500, they had trouble getting their +lorry down. A couple of Marines in +a jeep had to go in first to get the +crowd out of the way. Several of the +locals, including the one with the +staff, joined with them; this quick +co-operation delighted Meillard. +When they had the lorry down and +were all out of it, the dignitary with +the staff, his scarlet tablecloth over +his yellow robe, began an oration, +apparently with every confidence +that he was being understood. In +spite of his objections at lunch, the +telepathy theory was beginning to +seem more persuasive.</p> + +<p>"Give them the Shooting of Dan +McJabberwock again," he told Meillard. +"This is where we came in yesterday."</p> + +<p>Something Meillard had noticed +was exciting him. "Wait a moment. +They're going to do something."</p> + +<p>They were indeed. The one with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +the staff and three of his henchmen +advanced. The staff bearer touched +himself on the brow. "<i>Fwoonk</i>," he +said. Then he pointed to Meillard. +"<i>Hoonkle</i>," he said.</p> + +<p>"They got it!" Lillian was hugging +herself joyfully. "I knew they ought +to!"</p> + +<p>Meillard indicated himself and +said, "<i>Fwoonk</i>."</p> + +<p>That wasn't right. The village elder +immediately corrected him. The +word, it seemed, was, "<i>Fwoonk</i>."</p> + +<p>His three companions agreed that +that was the word for self, but that +was as far as the agreement went. +They rendered it, respectively, as +"<i>Pwink</i>," "<i>Tweelt</i>" and "<i>Kroosh</i>."</p> + +<p>Gofredo gave a barking laugh. He +was right; anything that could go +wrong would go wrong. Lillian used +a word; it was not a ladylike word at +all. The Svants looked at them as +though wondering what could possibly +be the matter. Then they went +into a huddle, arguing vehemently. +The argument spread, like a ripple in +a pool; soon everybody was twittering +vocally or blowing on flutes and +Panpipes. Then the big horn started +blaring. Immediately, Gofredo +snatched the hand-phone of his belt +radio and began speaking urgently +into it.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing, Luis?" Meillard +asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Calling the reserve in. I'm not +taking chances on this." He spoke +again into the phone, then called +over his shoulder: "Rienet; three one-second +bursts, in the air!"</p> + +<p>A Marine pointed a submachine +gun skyward and ripped off a string +of shots, then another, and another. +There was silence after the first burst. +Then a frightful howling arose.</p> + +<p>"Luis, you imbecile!" Meillard was +shouting.</p> + +<p>Gofredo jumped onto the top of an +airjeep, where they could all see him; +drawing his pistol, he fired twice into +the air.</p> + +<p>"Be quiet, all of you!" he shouted, +as though that would do any good.</p> + +<p>It did. Silence fell, bounced noisily, +and then settled over the crowd. +Gofredo went on talking to them: +"Take it easy, now; easy." He might +have been speaking to a frightened +dog or a fractious horse. "Nobody's +going to hurt you. This is nothing +but the great noise-magic of the Terrans...."</p> + +<p>"Get the presents unloaded," Meillard +was saying. "Make a big show of +it. The table first."</p> + +<p>The horn, which had started, +stopped blowing. As they were getting +off the long table and piling it +with trade goods, another lorry came +in, disgorging twenty Marine riflemen. +They had their bayonets fixed; +the natives looked apprehensively at +the bare steel, but went on listening +to Gofredo. Meillard pulled the +(Lord Mayor? Archbishop? Lord of +the Manor?) aside, and began making +sign-talk to him.</p> + +<p>When quiet was restored, Howell +put a pick and shovel into a wheelbarrow +and pushed them out into the +space that had been cleared in front +of the table. He swung the pick for a +while, then shoveled the barrow full<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +of ground. After pushing it around +for a while, he dumped it back in the +hole and leveled it off. Two Marines +brought out an eight-inch log and +chopped a couple of billets off it with +an ax, then cut off another with one +of the saws, split them up, and filled +the wheelbarrow with the firewood.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/image16.jpg" width="600" height="492" alt="We can't use the computer till +we can tell it what the data is data about!" title="We can't use the computer till we can tell it what the data is data about!" /><br /> +<i>We can't use the computer till +we can tell it what the data is data about!</i> +</div> + +<p>The knives, jewelry and other +small items would be no problem; +they had enough of them to go +around. The other stuff would be +harder to distribute, and Paul Meillard +and Karl Dorver were arguing +about how to handle it. If they weren't +careful, a lot of new bowie knives +would get bloodied.</p> + +<p>"Have them form a queue," Anna +suggested. "That will give them the +idea of equal sharing, and we'll be +able to learn something about their +status levels and social hierarchy and +agonistic relations."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The one with the staff took it as a +matter of course that he would go +first; his associates began falling in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +behind him, and the rest of the villagers +behind them. Whether they'd +gotten one the day before or not, +everybody was given a knife and a +bandanna and one piece of flashy +junk-jewelry, also a stainless steel +cup and mess plate, a bucket, and an +empty bottle with a cork. The women +didn't carry sheath knives, so they +got Boy Scout knives on lanyards. +They were all lavishly supplied with +Extee Three and candy. Any of the +children who looked big enough to be +trusted with them got knives too, and +plenty of candy.</p> + +<p>Anna and Karl were standing +where the queue was forming, watching +how they fell into line; so was +Lillian, with an audiovisual camera. +Having seen that the Marine enlisted +men were getting the presents handed +out properly, Howell strolled over to +them. Just as he came up, a couple +approached hesitantly, a man in a +breechclout under a leather apron, +and a woman, much smaller, in a +ragged and soiled tunic. As soon as +they fell into line, another Svant, in a +blue robe, pushed them aside and +took their place.</p> + +<p>"Here, you can't do that!" Lillian +cried. "Karl, make him step back."</p> + +<p>Karl was saying something about +social status and precedence. The +couple tried to get into line behind +the man who had pushed them aside. +Another villager tried to shove them +out of his way. Howell advanced, his +right fist closing. Then he remembered +that he didn't know what he'd +be punching; he might break the +fellow's neck, or his own knuckles. +He grabbed the blue-robed Svant by +the wrist with both hands, kicked a +foot out from under him, and jerked, +sending him flying for six feet and +then sliding in the dust for another +couple of yards. He pushed the others +back, and put the couple into +place in the line.</p> + +<p>"Mark, you shouldn't have done +that," Dorver was expostulating. "We +don't know...."</p> + +<p>The Svant sat up, shaking his head +groggily. Then he realized what had +been done to him. With a snarl of +rage, he was on his feet, his knife in +his hand. It was a Terran bowie +knife. Without conscious volition, +Howell's pistol was out and he was +thumbing the safety off.</p> + +<p>The Svant stopped short, then +dropped the knife, ducked his head, +and threw his arms over it to shield +his comb. He backed away a few +steps, then turned and bolted into the +nearest house. The others, including +the woman in the ragged tunic, were +twittering in alarm. Only the man in +the leather apron was calm; he was +saying, tonelessly, "<i>Ghrooogh-ghrooogh</i>."</p> + +<p>Luis Gofredo was coming up on +the double, followed by three of his +riflemen.</p> + +<p>"What happened, Mark? Trouble?"</p> + +<p>"All over now." He told Gofredo +what had happened. Dorver was still +objecting:</p> + +<p>"... Social precedence; the Svant +may have been right, according to +local customs."</p> + +<p>"Local customs be damned!" Gofredo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +became angry. "This is a Terran +Federation handout; we make +the rules, and one of them is, no +pushing people out of line. Teach the +buggers that now and we won't have +to work so hard at it later." He called +back over his shoulder, "Situation under +control; get the show going +again."</p> + +<p>The natives were all grimacing +heartbrokenly with pleasure. Maybe +the one who got thrown on his ear—no, +he didn't have any—was not one +of the more popular characters in the +village.</p> + +<p>"You just pulled your gun, and he +dropped the knife and ran?" Gofredo +asked. "And the others were scared, +too?"</p> + +<p>"That's right. They all saw you +fire yours; the noise scared them."</p> + +<p>Gofredo nodded. "We'll avoid promiscuous +shooting, then. No use letting +them find out the noise won't +hurt them any sooner than we have +to."</p> + +<p>Paul Meillard had worked out a +way to distribute the picks and shovels +and axes. Considering each house +as representing a family unit, which +might or might not be the case, there +were picks and shovels enough to go +around, and an ax for every third +house. They took them around in an +airjeep and left them at the doors. +The houses, he found, weren't adobe +at all. They were built of logs, plastered +with adobe on the outside. That +demolished his theory that the houses +were torn down periodically, and left +the mound itself unexplained.</p> + +<p>The wheelbarrows and the grindstone +and the two crosscut saws were +another matter. Nobody was quite +sure that the (nobility? capitalist-class? +politicians? prominent citizens?) +wouldn't simply appropriate +them for themselves. Paul Meillard +was worried about that; everybody +else was willing to let matters take +their course. Before they were off +the ground in their vehicles, a violent +dispute had begun, with a bedlam of +jabbering and shrieking. By the time +they were landing at the camp, the +big laminated leather horn had begun +to bellow.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>One of the huts had been fitted as +contact-team headquarters, with all +the view and communication screens +installed, and one end partitioned off +and soundproofed for Lillian to study +recordings in. It was cocktail time +when they returned; conversationally, +it was a continuation from +lunch. Karl Dorver was even more +convinced than ever of his telepathic +hypothesis, and he had completely +converted Anna de Jong to it.</p> + +<p>"Look at that." He pointed at the +snooper screen, which gave a view +of the plaza from directly above. +"They're reaching an agreement already."</p> + +<p>So they seemed to be, though upon +what was less apparent. The horn +had stopped, and the noise was diminishing. +The odd thing was that +peace was being restored, or was restoring +itself, as the uproar had +begun—outwardly from the center of +the plaza to the periphery of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +crowd. The same thing had happened +when Gofredo had ordered +the submachine gun fired, and, now +that he recalled, when he had dealt +with the line-crasher.</p> + +<p>"Suppose a few of them, in the +middle, are agreed," Anna said. +"They are all thinking in unison, +combining their telepathic powers. +They dominate those nearest to them, +who join and amplify their telepathic +signal, and it spreads out through the +whole group. A mental chain-reaction."</p> + +<p>"That would explain the mechanism +of community leadership, and +I'd been wondering about that," Dorver +said, becoming more excited. +"It's a mental aristocracy; an especially +gifted group of telepaths, in +agreement and using their powers in +concert, implanting their opinions in +the minds of all the others. I'll bet +the purpose of the horn is to distract +the thoughts of the others, so that +they can be more easily dominated. +And the noise of the shots shocked +them out of communication with +each other; no wonder they were +frightened."</p> + +<p>Bennet Fayon was far from convinced. +"So far, this telepathy theory +is only an assumption. I find it a lot +easier to assume some fundamental +difference between the way they +translate sound into sense-data and +the way we do. We <i>think</i> those combs +on top of their heads are their external +hearing organs, but we have +no idea what's back of them, or +what kind of a neural hookup is connected +to them. I wish I knew how +these people dispose of their dead. +I need a couple of fresh cadavers. +Too bad they aren't warlike. Nothing +like a good bloody battle to advance +the science of anatomy, and +what we don't know about Svant +anatomy is practically the entire subject."</p> + +<p>"I should imagine the animals hear +in the same way," Meillard said. +"When the wagon wheels and the +hoes and the blacksmith tools come +down from the ship, we'll trade for +cattle."</p> + +<p>"When they make the second landing +in the mountains, I'm going to do +a lot of hunting," Loughran added. +"I'll get wild animals for you."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm going to assume that +the vocal noises they make are meaningful +speech," Lillian Ransby said. +"So far, I've just been trying to analyze +them for phonetic values. Now +I'm going to analyze them for sound-wave +patterns. No matter what goes +on inside their private nervous systems, +the sounds exist as waves in +the public atmosphere. I'm going to +assume that the Lord Mayor and his +stooges were all trying to say the +same thing when they were pointing +to themselves, and I'm going to see +if all four of those sounds have any +common characteristic."</p> + +<p>By the time dinner was over, they +were all talking in circles, none of +them hopefully. They all made recordings +of the speech about the +slithy toves in the Malemute Saloon; +Lillian wanted to find out what was +different about them. Luis Gofredo +saw to it that the camp itself would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +be visible-lighted, and beyond the +lights he set up more photoelectric +robot sentries and put a couple of +snoopers to circling on contragravity, +with infra-red lights and receptors. +He also insisted that all his own +men and all Dave Questell's Navy +construction engineers keep their +weapons ready to hand. The natives +in the village were equally distrustful. +They didn't herd the cattle up +from the meadows where they had +been pastured, but they lighted +watch-fires along the edge of the +mound as soon as it became dark.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was three hours after nightfall +when something on the indicator-board +for the robot sentries went off +like a startled rattlesnake. Everybody, +talking idly or concentrating +on writing up the day's observations, +stiffened. Luis Gofredo, dozing in a +chair, was on his feet instantly and +crossing the hut to the instruments. +His second-in-command, who had +been playing chess with Willi Schallenmacher, +rose and snatched his belt +from the back of his chair, putting +it on.</p> + +<p>"Take it easy," Gofredo said. +"Probably just a cow or a horse—local +equivalent—that's strayed over +from the other side."</p> + +<p>He sat down in front of one of the +snooper screens and twisted knobs on +the remote controls. The monochrome +view, transformed from infra red, +rotated as the snooper circled +and changed course. The other +screen showed the camp receding and +the area around it widening as its +snooper gained altitude.</p> + +<p>"It's not a big party," Gofredo was +saying. "I can't see—Oh, yes I can. +Only two of them."</p> + +<p>The humanoid figures, one larger +than the other, were moving cautiously +across the fields, crouching +low. The snooper went down toward +them, and then he recognized +them. The man and woman whom +the blue-robed villager had tried to +shove out of the queue, that afternoon. +Gofredo recognized them, too.</p> + +<p>"Your friends, Mark. Harry," he +told his subordinate, "go out and pass +the word around. Only two, and we +think they're friendly. Keep everybody +out of sight; we don't want to +scare them away."</p> + +<p>The snooper followed closely behind +them. The man was no longer +wearing his apron; the woman's tunic +was even more tattered and soiled. +She was leading him by the hand. +Now and then, she would stop and +turn her head to the rear. The snooper +over the mound showed nothing +but half a dozen fire-watchers dozing +by their fires. Then the pair were at +the edge of the camp lights. As they +advanced, they seemed to realize that +they had passed a point-of-no-return. +They straightened and came forward +steadily, the woman seeming to be +guiding her companion.</p> + +<p>"What's happening, Mark?"</p> + +<p>It was Lillian; she must have just +come out of the soundproof speech-lab.</p> + +<p>"You know them; the pair in the +queue, this afternoon. I think we've<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +annexed a couple of friendly natives."</p> + +<p>They all went outside. The two +natives, having come into the camp, +had stopped. For a moment, the man +in the breechclout seemed undecided +whether he was more afraid to turn +and run than advance. The woman, +holding his hand, led him forward. +They were both bruised, and both +had minor cuts, and neither of them +had any of the things that had been +given to them that afternoon.</p> + +<p>"Rest of the gang beat them up and +robbed them," Gofredo began angrily.</p> + +<p>"See what you did?" Dorver began. +"According to their own customs, +they had no right to be ahead +of those others, and now you've gotten +them punished for it."</p> + +<p>"I'd have done more to that fellow +then Mark did, if I'd been there +when it happened." The Marine officer +turned to Meillard. "Look, this is +your show, Paul; how you run it is +your job. But in your place, I'd take +that pair back to the village and have +them point out who beat them up, +and teach the whole gang of them a +lesson. If you're going to colonize +this planet, you're going to have to +establish Federation law, and Federation +law says you mustn't gang up +on people and beat and rob them. +We don't have to speak Svantese to +make them understand what we'll +put up with and what we won't."</p> + +<p>"Later, Luis. After we've gotten a +treaty with somebody." Meillard +broke off. "Watch this!"</p> + + + +<p>The woman was making sign-talk. +She pointed to the village on the +mound. Then, with her hands, she +shaped a bucket like the ones that +had been given to them, and made a +snatching gesture away from herself. +She indicated the neckcloths, and the +sheath knife and the other things, and +snatched them away too. She made +beating motions, and touched her +bruises and the man's. All the time, +she was talking excitedly, in a high, +shrill voice. The man made the same +<i>ghroogh-ghroogh</i> noises that he had +that afternoon.</p> + +<p>"No; we can't take any punitive +action. Not now," Meillard said. "But +we'll have to do something for them."</p> + +<p>Vengeance, it seemed, wasn't what +they wanted. The woman made vehement +gestures of rejection toward +the village, then bowed, placing her +hands on her brow. The man imitated +her obeisance, then they both +straightened. The woman pointed to +herself and to the man, and around +the circle of huts and landing craft. +She began scuttling about, picking up +imaginary litter and sweeping with +an imaginary broom. The man started +pounding with an imaginary hammer, +then chopping with an imaginary +ax.</p> + +<p>Lillian was clapping her hands +softly. "Good; got it the first time. +'You let us stay; we work for you.' +How about it, Paul?"</p> + +<p>Meillard nodded. "Punitive action's +unadvisable, but we will show +our attitude by taking them in. You +tell them, Luis; these people seem to +like your voice."</p> + +<p>Gofredo put a hand on each of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +their shoulders. "You ... stay ... +with us." He pointed around the +camp. "You ... stay ... this ... place."</p> + +<p>Their faces broke into that funny +just-before-tears expression that +meant happiness with them. The man +confined his vocal expressions to his +odd <i>ghroogh-ghroogh</i>-ing; the woman +twittered joyfully. Gofredo put a +hand on the woman's shoulder, pointed +to the man and from him back to +her. "Unh?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>The woman put a hand on the +man's head, then brought it down to +within a foot of the ground. She +picked up the imaginary infant and +rocked it in her arms, then set it +down and grew it up until she had +her hand on the top of the man's +head again.</p> + +<p>"That was good, Mom," Gofredo +told her. "Now, you and Sonny come +along; we'll issue you equipment and +find you billets." He added, "What in +blazes are we going to feed them; +Extee Three?"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>They gave them replacements for +all the things that had been taken +away from them. They gave the man +a one-piece suit of Marine combat +coveralls; Lillian gave the woman a +lavender bathrobe, and Anna contributed +a red scarf. They found +them quarters in one end of a store +shed, after making sure that there +was nothing they could get at that +would hurt them or that they could +damage. They gave each of them a +pair of blankets and a pneumatic +mattress, which delighted them, although +the cots puzzled them at first.</p> + +<p>"What do you think about feeding +them, Bennet?" Meillard asked, +when the two Svants had gone to bed +and they were back in the headquarters +hut. "You said the food on this +planet is safe for Terrans."</p> + +<p>"So I did, and it is, but the rule's +not reversible. Things we eat might +kill them," Fayon said. "Meats will be +especially dangerous. And no caffeine, +and no alcohol."</p> + +<p>"Alcohol won't hurt them," Schallenmacher +said. "I saw big jars full of +fermenting fruit-mash back of some +of those houses; in about a year, it +ought to be fairly good wine. +C<sub>2</sub>H<sub>5</sub>OH is the same on any planet."</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll get native foodstuffs +tomorrow," Meillard said. "We'll +have to do that by signs, too," he regretted.</p> + +<p>"Get Mom to help you; she's pretty +sharp," Lillian advised. "But I +think Sonny's the village half-wit."</p> + +<p>Anna de Jong agreed. "Even if we +don't understand Svant psychology, +that's evident; he's definitely subnormal. +The way he clings to his mother +for guidance is absolutely pathetic. +He's a mature adult, but mentally +he's still a little child."</p> + +<p>"That may explain it!" Dorver +cried. "A mental defective, in a community +of telepaths, constantly invading +the minds of others with irrational +and disgusting thoughts; no +wonder he is rejected and persecuted. +And in a community on this culture +level, the mother of an abnormal +child is often regarded with +superstitious detestation—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 586px;"> +<img src="images/image23.png" width="586" height="296" alt="Svant drives new wagon" title="Svant drives new wagon" /> +</div> + +<p>"Yes, of course!" Anna de Jong +instantly agreed, and began to go +into the villagers' hostility to both +mother and son; both of them were +now taking the telepathy hypothesis +for granted.</p> + +<p>Well, maybe so. He turned to Lillian.</p> + +<p>"What did you find out?"</p> + +<p>"Well, there is a common characteristic +in all four sounds. A little +patch on the screen at seventeen-twenty +cycles. The odd thing is that +when I try to repeat the sound, it +isn't there."</p> + +<p>Odd indeed. If a Svant said something, +he made sound waves; if she +imitated the sound, she ought to imitate +the wave pattern. He said so, +and she agreed.</p> + +<p>"But come back here and look at +this," she invited.</p> + +<p>She had been using a visibilizing +analyzer; in it, a sound was broken +by a set of filters into frequency-groups, +translated into light from +dull red to violet paling into pure +white. It photographed the light-pattern +on high-speed film, automatically +developed it, and then made a +print-copy and projected the film in +slow motion on a screen. When she +pressed a button, a recorded voice +said, "<i>Fwoonk</i>." An instant later, a +pattern of vertical lines in various +colors and lengths was projected on +the screen.</p> + +<p>"Those green lines," she said. +"That's it. Now, watch this."</p> + +<p>She pressed another button, got +the photoprint out of a slot, and +propped it beside the screen. Then +she picked up a hand-phone and said, +"<i>Fwoonk</i>," into it. It sounded like +the first one, but the pattern that +danced onto the screen was quite +different. Where the green had been, +there was a patch of pale-blue lines. +She ran the other three Svants' +voices, each saying, presumably, +"Me." Some were mainly up in blue, +others had a good deal of yellow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +and orange, but they all had the little +patch of green lines.</p> + +<p>"Well, that seems to be the information," +he said. "The rest is just +noise."</p> + +<p>"Maybe one of them is saying, +'John Doe, <i>me</i>, son of Joe Blow,' and +another is saying, 'Tough guy, <i>me</i>; +lick anybody in town.'"</p> + +<p>"All in one syllable?" Then he +shrugged. How did he know what +these people could pack into one syllable? +He picked up the hand-phone +and said, "Fwoonk," into it. The pattern, +a little deeper in color and with +longer lines, was recognizably like +hers, and unlike any of the Svants'.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The others came in, singly and in +pairs and threes. They watched the +colors dance on the screen to picture +the four Svant words which might or +might not all mean <i>me</i>. They tried to +duplicate them. Luis Gofredo and +Willi Schallenmacher came closest of +anybody. Bennet Fayon was still insisting +that the Svants had a perfectly +comprehensible language—to other +Svants. Anna de Jong had started to +veer a little away from the Dorver +Hypothesis. There was a difference +between event-level sound, which +was a series of waves of alternately +crowded and rarefied molecules of +air, and object-level sound, which +was an auditory sensation inside the +nervous system, she admitted. That, +Fayon crowed, was what he'd been +saying all along; their auditory system +was probably such that <i>fwoonk</i> +and <i>pwink</i> and <i>tweelt</i> and <i>kroosh</i> all +sounded alike to them.</p> + +<p>By this time, <i>fwoonk</i> and <i>pwink</i> +and <i>tweelt</i> and <i>kroosh</i> had become +swear words among the joint Space +Navy-Colonial Office contact team.</p> + +<p>"Well, if I hear the two sounds +alike, why doesn't the analyzer hear +them alike?" Karl Dorver demanded.</p> + +<p>"It has better ears than you do, +Karl. Look how many different frequencies +there are in that word, all +crowding up behind each other," Lillian +said. "But it isn't sensitive or +selective enough. I'm going to see +what Ayesha Keithley can do about +building me a better one."</p> + +<p>Ayesha was signals and detection +officer on the <i>Hubert Penrose</i>. Dave +Questell mentioned that she'd had a +hard day, and was probably making +sack-time, and she wouldn't welcome +being called at 0130. Nobody seemed +to have realized that it had gotten +that late.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll call the ship and have a +recording made for her for when she +gets up. But till we get something +that'll sort this mess out and make +sense of it, I'm stopped."</p> + +<p>"You're stopped, period, Lillian," +Dorver told her. "What these people +gibber at us doesn't even make as +much sense as the Shooting of Dan +McJabberwock. The real information +is conveyed by telepathy."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Lieutenant j.g. Ayesha Keithley +was on the screen the next morning +while they were eating breakfast. She +was a blonde, like Lillian.</p> + +<p>"I got your message; you seem to +have problems, don't you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Speaking conservatively, yes. +You see what we're up against?"</p> + +<p>"You don't know what their vocal +organs are like, do you?" the girl in +naval uniform in the screen asked.</p> + +<p>Lillian shook her head. "Bennet +Fayon's hoping for a war, or an epidemic, +or something to break out, so +that he can get a few cadavers to +dissect."</p> + +<p>"Well, he'll find that they're pretty +complex," Ayesha Keithley said. "I +identified stick-and-slip sounds and +percussion sounds, and plucked-string +sounds, along with the ordinary +hiss-and-buzz speech-sounds. +Making a vocoder to reproduce that +speech is going to be fun. Just what +are you using, in the way of equipment?"</p> + +<p>Lillian was still talking about that +when the two landing craft from the +ship were sighted, coming down. +Charley Loughran and Willi Schallenmacher, +who were returning to +the <i>Hubert Penrose</i> to join the other +landing party, began assembling their +luggage. The others went outside, +Howell among them.</p> + +<p>Mom and Sonny were watching +the two craft grow larger and closer +above, keeping close to a group of +spacemen; Sonny was looking +around excitedly, while Mom clung +to his arm, like a hen with an oversized +chick. The reasoning was clear—these +people knew all about big +things that came down out of the sky +and weren't afraid of them; stick +close to them, and it would be perfectly +safe. Sonny saw the contact +team emerging from their hut and +grabbed his mother's arm, pointing. +They both beamed happily; that expression +didn't look sad, at all, now +that you knew what it meant. Sonny +began ghroogh-ghrooghing hideously; +Mom hushed him with a hand +over his mouth, and they both made +eating gestures, rubbed their abdomens +comfortably, and pointed toward +the mess hut. Bennet Fayon +was frightened. He turned and started +on the double toward the cook, +who was standing in the doorway of +the hut, calling out to him.</p> + +<p>The cook spoke inaudibly. Fayon +stopped short. "Unholy Saint Beelzebub, +no!" he cried. The cook said +something in reply, shrugging. Fayon +came back, talking to himself.</p> + +<p>"Terran carniculture pork," he +said, when he returned. "Zarathustra +pool-ball fruit. Potato-flour hotcakes, +with Baldur honey and Odin flameberry +jam. And two big cups of coffee +apiece. It's a miracle they aren't +dead now. If they're alive for lunch, +we won't need to worry about feeding +them anything we eat, but I'm +glad somebody else has the moral +responsibility for this."</p> + +<p>Lillian Ransby came out of the +headquarters hut. "Ayesha's coming +down this afternoon, with a lot of +equipment," she said. "We're not exactly +going to count air molecules in +the sound waves, but we'll do everything +short of that. We'll need more +lab space, soundproofed."</p> + +<p>"Tell Dave Questell what you +want," Meillard said. "Do you really +think you can get anything?"</p> + +<p>She shrugged. "If there's anything<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +there to get. How long it'll take is another +question."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The two sixty-foot collapsium-armored +turtles settled to the ground +and went off contragravity. The ports +opened, and things began being +floated off on lifter-skids: framework +for the water tower, and curved titanium +sheets for the tank. Anna de +Jong said something about hot showers, +and not having to take any more +sponge-baths. Howell was watching +the stuff come off the other landing +craft. A dozen pairs of four-foot +wagon wheels, with axles. Hoes, in +bundles. Scythe blades. A hand +forge, with a crank-driven fan blower, +and a hundred and fifty pound +anvil, and sledges and cutters and +swages and tongs.</p> + +<p>Everybody was busy, and Mom +and Sonny were fidgeting, gesturing +toward the work with their own empty +hands. <i>Hey, boss; whatta we gonna +do?</i> He patted them on the shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Take it easy." He hoped his tone +would convey nonurgency. "We'll +find something for you to do."</p> + +<p>He wasn't particularly happy +about most of what was coming off. +Giving these Svants tools was fine, +but it was more important to give +them technologies. The people on the +ship hadn't thought of that. These +wheels, now; machined steel hubs, +steel rims, tubular steel spokes, drop-forged +and machined axles. The +Svants wouldn't be able to copy them +in a thousand years. Well, in a hundred, +if somebody showed them +where and how to mine iron and how +to smelt and work it. And how to +build a steam engine.</p> + +<p>He went over and pulled a hoe out +of one of the bundles. Blades +stamped out with a power press, +welded to tubular steel handles. Well, +wood for hoe handles was hard to +come by on a spaceship, even a battle +cruiser almost half a mile in diameter; +he had to admit that. And +they were about two thousand per +cent more efficient than the bronze +scrapers the Svants used. That wasn't +the idea, though. Even supposing that +the first wave of colonists came out +in a year and a half, it would be close +to twenty years before Terran-operated +factories would be in mass production +for the native trade. The +idea was to teach these people to +make better things for themselves; +give them a leg up, so that the next +generation would be ready for contragravity +and nuclear and electric +power.</p> + +<p>Mom didn't know what to make +of any of it. Sonny did, though; he +was excited, grabbing Howell's +arm, pointing, saying, "<i>Ghroogh</i>! +<i>Ghroogh</i>!" He pointed at the +wheels, and then made a stooping, +lifting and pushing gesture. <i>Like +wheelbarrow?</i></p> + +<p>"That's right." He nodded, wondering +if Sonny recognized that as +an affirmative sign. "Like big wheelbarrow."</p> + +<p>One thing puzzled Sonny, though. +Wheelbarrow wheels were small—his +hands indicated the size—and single. +These were big, and double.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let me show you this, Sonny."</p> + +<p>He squatted, took a pad and pencil +from his pocket, and drew two +pairs of wheels, and then put a wagon +on them, and drew a quadruped +hitched to it, and a Svant with a stick +walking beside it. Sonny looked at +the picture—Svants seemed to have +pictoral sense, for which make us +thankful!—and then caught his +mother's sleeve and showed it to her. +Mom didn't get it. Sonny took the +pencil and drew another animal, with +a pole travois. He made gestures. A +travois dragged; it went slow. A +wagon had wheels that went around; +it went fast.</p> + +<p>So Lillian and Anna thought he +was the village half-wit. Village genius, +more likely; the other peasants +didn't understand him, and resented +his superiority. They went over for a +closer look at the wheels, and pushed +them. Sonny was almost beside himself. +Mom was puzzled, but she +thought they were pretty wonderful.</p> + +<p>Then they looked at blacksmith +tools. Tongs; Sonny had never seen +anything like them. Howell wondered +what the Svants used to handle +hot metal; probably big tweezers +made by tying two green sticks together. +There was an old Arabian +legend that Allah had made the first +tongs and given them to the first +smith, because nobody could make +tongs without having a pair already.</p> + +<p>Sonny didn't understand the fan-blower +until it was taken apart. Then +he made a great discovery. The +wheels, and the fan, and the pivoted +tongs, all embodied the same principle, +one his people had evidently +never discovered. A whole new +world seemed to open before him; +from then on, he was constantly finding +things pierced and rotating on +pivots.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>By this time, Mom was fidgeting +again. She ought to be doing something +to justify her presence in the +camp. He was wondering what sort +of work he could invent for her when +Karl Dorver called to him from the +door of the headquarters hut.</p> + +<p>"Mark, can you spare Mom for a +while?" he asked. "We want her to +look at pictures and show us which of +the animals are meat-cattle, and +which of the crops are ripe."</p> + +<p>"Think you can get anything out +of her?"</p> + +<p>"Sign-talk, yes. We may get a few +words from her, too."</p> + +<p>At first, Mom was unwilling to +leave Sonny. She finally decided that +it would be safe, and trotted over to +Dorver, entering the hut.</p> + +<p>Dave Questell's construction crew +began at once on the water tank, +using a power shovel to dig the foundation. +They had to haul water in a +tank from the river a quarter-mile +away to mix the concrete. Sonny +watched that interestedly. So did a +number of the villagers, who gathered +safely out of bowshot. They noticed +Sonny among the Terrans and pointed +at him. Sonny noticed that. He +unobtrusively picked up a double-bitted +ax and kept it to hand.</p> + +<p>He and Mom had lunch with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +contact team. As they showed no ill +effects from breakfast, Fayon decided +that it was safe to let them have +anything the Terrans ate or drank. +They liked wine; they knew what it +was, all right, but this seemed to have +a delightfully different flavor. They +each tried a cigarette, choked over +the first few puffs, and decided that +they didn't like smoking.</p> + +<p>"Mom gave us a lot of information, +as far as she could, on the crops +and animals. The big things, the size +of rhinoceroses, are draft animals +and nothing else; they're not eaten," +Dorver said. "I don't know whether +the meat isn't good, or is taboo, or +they are too valuable to eat. They +eat all the other three species, and +milk two of them. I have an idea +they grind their grain in big stone +mortars as needed."</p> + +<p>That was right; he'd seen things +like that.</p> + +<p>"Willi, when you're over in the +mountains, see if you can find something +we can make millstones out of. +We can shape them with sono-cutters; +after they get the idea, they can +do it themselves by hand. One of +those big animals could be used to +turn the mill. Did you get any words +from her?"</p> + +<p>Paul Meillard shook his head +gloomily. "Nothing we can be sure +of. It was the same thing as in the +village, yesterday. She'd say something, +I'd repeat it, and she'd tell us it +was wrong and say the same thing +over again. Lillian took recordings; +she got the same results as last night. +Ask her about it later."</p> + +<p>"She has the same effect on Mom +as on the others?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Mom was very polite and +tried not to show it, but—"</p> + +<p>Lillian took him aside, out of earshot +of the two Svants, after lunch. +She was almost distracted.</p> + +<p>"Mark, I don't know what I'm going +to do. She's like the others. Every +time I open my mouth in front of her, +she's simply horrified. It's as though +my voice does something loathsome +to her. And I'm the one who's supposed +to learn to talk to them."</p> + +<p>"Well, those who can do, and those +who can't teach," he told her. "You +can study recordings, and tell us +what the words are and teach us how +to recognize and pronounce them. +You're the only linguist we have."</p> + +<p>That seemed to comfort her a little. +He hoped it would work out that +way. If they could communicate +with these people and did leave a +party here to prepare for the first +colonization, he'd stay on, to teach +the natives Terran technologies and +study theirs. He'd been expecting +that Lillian would stay, too. She was +the linguist; she'd have to stay. But +now, if it turned out that she would +be no help but a liability, she'd go +back with the <i>Hubert Penrose</i>. Paul +wouldn't keep a linguist who offended +the natives' every sensibility +with every word she spoke. He didn't +want that to happen. Lillian and +he had come to mean a little too +much to each other to be parted now.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Paul Meillard and Karl Dorver had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +considerable difficulty with Mom, +that afternoon. They wanted her to +go with them and help trade for cattle. +Mom didn't want to; she was +afraid. They had to do a lot of play-acting, +with half a dozen Marines pretending +to guard her with fixed bayonets +from some of Dave Questell's +Navy construction men who had red +bandannas on their heads to simulate +combs before she got the idea. +Then she was afraid to get into the +contragravity lorry that was to carry +the hoes and the wagon wheels. Sonny +managed to reassure her, and insisted +on going along, and he insisted +on taking his ax with him. That +meant doubling the guard, to make +sure Sonny didn't lose his self-control +when he saw his former persecutors +within chopping distance.</p> + +<p>It went off much better than either +Paul Meillard or Luis Gofredo +expected. After the first shock of being +air-borne had worn off, Mom +found that she liked contragravity-riding; +Sonny was wildly delighted +with it from the start. The natives +showed neither of them any hostility. +Mom's lavender bathrobe and +Sonny's green coveralls and big ax +seemed to be symbols of a new and +exalted status; even the Lord Mayor +was extremely polite to them.</p> + +<p>The Lord Mayor and half a dozen +others got a contragravity ride, too, +to the meadows to pick out cattle. A +dozen animals, including a pair of the +two-ton draft beasts, were driven to +the Terran camp. A couple of lorry-loads +of assorted vegetables were +brought in, too. Everybody seemed +very happy about the deal, especially +Bennet Fayon. He wanted to slaughter +one of the sheep-sized meat-and-milk +animals at once and get to work +on it. Gofredo advised him to put it +off till the next morning. He wanted +a large native audience to see the +animal being shot with a rifle.</p> + +<p>The water tower was finished, and +the big spherical tank hoisted on top +of it and made fast. A pump, and a +filter-system were installed. There +was no water for hot showers that +evening, though. They would have to +run a pipeline to the river, and that +would entail a ditch that would cut +through several cultivated fields, +which, in turn, would provoke an uproar. +Paul Meillard didn't want that +happening until he'd concluded the +cattle-trade.</p> + +<p>Charley Loughran and Willi Schallenmacher +had gone up to the ship +on one of the landing craft; they accompanied +the landing party that +went down into the mountains. +Ayesha Keithley arrived late in the +afternoon on another landing craft, +with five or six tons of instruments +and parts and equipment, and a male +Navy warrant-officer helper.</p> + +<p>They looked around the lab Lillian +had been using at one end of the +headquarters hut.</p> + +<p>"This won't do," the girl Navy officer +said. "We can't get a quarter of +the apparatus we're going to need in +here. We'll have to build something."</p> + +<p>Dave Questell was drawn into the +discussion. Yes, he could put up +something big enough for everything +the girls would need to install,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +and soundproof it. Concrete, he decided; +they'd have to wait till he got +the water line down and the pump +going, though.</p> + +<p>There was a crowd of natives in +the fields, gaping at the Terran camp, +the next morning, and Gofredo decided +to kill the animal—until they +learned the native name, they were +calling it Domesticated Type C. It +was herded out where everyone could +watch, and a Marine stepped forward +unslung his rifle took a kneeling +position, and aimed at it. It was a +hundred and fifty yards away. Mom +had come out to see what was going +on; Sonny and Howell, who had been +consulting by signs over the construction +of a wagon, were standing +side by side. The Marine squeezed +his trigger. The rifle banged, and the +Domesticated-C bounded into the +air, dropped, and kicked a few times +and was still. The natives, however, +missed that part of it; they were +howling piteously and rubbing their +heads. All but Sonny. He was just +mildly surprised at what had happened +to the Dom.-C.</p> + +<p>Sonny, it would appear, was stone +deaf.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>As anticipated, there was another +uproar later in the morning when +the ditching machine started north +across the meadow. A mob of Svants, +seeing its relentless progress toward +a field of something like turnips, +gathered in front of it, twittering +and brandishing implements of agriculture, +many of them Terran-made.</p> + +<p>Paul Meillard was ready for this. +Two lorries went out; one loaded +with Marines, who jumped off with +their rifles ready. By this time, all the +Svants knew what rifles would do beside +make a noise. Meillard, Dorver, +Gofredo and a few others got out of +the other vehicle, and unloaded +presents. Gofredo did all the talking. +The Svants couldn't understand him, +but they liked it. They also liked the +presents, which included a dozen +empty half-gallon rum demijohns, +tarpaulins, and a lot of assorted +knickknacks. The pipeline went +through.</p> + +<p>He and Sonny got the forge set up. +There was no fuel for it. A party of +Marines had gone out to the woods +to the east to cut wood; when they +got back, they'd burn some charcoal +in the pit that had been dug beside +the camp. Until then, he and Sonny +were drawing plans for a wooden +wheel with a metal tire when Lillian +came out of the headquarters hut +with a clipboard under her arm. She +motioned to him.</p> + +<p>"Come on over," he told her. "You +can talk in front of Sonny; he won't +mind. He can't hear."</p> + +<p>"Can't hear?" she echoed. "You +mean—?"</p> + +<p>"That's right. Sonny's stone deaf. +He didn't even hear that rifle going +off. The only one of this gang that +has brains enough to pour sand out +of a boot with directions on the bottom +of the heel, and he's a total +linguistic loss."</p> + +<p>"So he isn't a half-wit, after all."</p> + +<p>"He's got an IQ close to genius<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +level. Look at this; he never saw a +wheel before yesterday; now he's designing +one."</p> + +<!-- image31 shifted down to illustrated scene on 033-4. --> + +<p>Lillian's eyes widened. "So that's +why Mom's so sharp about sign-talk. +She's been doing it all his life." Then +she remembered what she had come +out to show him, and held out the +clipboard. "You know how that analyzer +of mine works? Well, here's +what Ayesha's going to do. After +breaking a sound into frequency +bands instead of being photographed +and projected, each band goes to an +analyzer of its own, and is projected +on its own screen. There'll be forty +of them, each for a band of a hundred +cycles, from zero to four thousand. +That seems to be the Svant vocal +range."</p> + +<p>The diagram passed from hand to +hand during cocktail time, before +dinner. Bennet Fayon had been +working all day dissecting the animal +they were all calling a <i>domsee</i>, a +name which would stick even if and +when they learned the native name. +He glanced disinterestedly at the +drawing, then looked again, more +closely. Then he set down the drink +he was holding in his other hand and +studied it intently.</p> + +<p>"You know what you have here?" +he asked. "This is a very close analogy +to the hearing organs of that animal I +was working on. The comb, as we've +assumed, is the external organ. It's +covered with small flaps and fissures. +Back of each fissure is a long, narrow +membrane; they're paired, one on +each side of the comb, and from them +nerves lead to clusters of small round<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +membranes. Nerves lead from them +to a complex nerve-cable at the bottom +of the comb and into the brain +at the base of the skull. I couldn't +understand how the system functioned, +but now I see it. Each of the +larger membranes on the outside responds +to a sound-frequency band, +and the small ones on the inside +break the bands down to individual +frequencies."</p> + +<p>"How many of the little ones are +there?" Ayesha asked.</p> + +<p>"Thousands of them; the inner +comb is simply packed with them. +Wait; I'll show you."</p> + +<p>He rose and went away, returning +with a sheaf of photo-enlargements +and a number of blocks of lucite in +which specimens were mounted. +Everybody examined them. Anna de +Jong, as a practicing psychologist, +had an M.D. and to get that she'd +had to know a modicum of anatomy; +she was puzzled.</p> + +<p>"I can't understand how they hear +with those things. I'll grant that the +membranes will respond to sound, +but I can't see how they transmit it."</p> + +<p>"But they do hear," Meillard said. +"Their musical instruments, their reactions +to our voices, the way they +are affected by sounds like gunfire—"</p> + +<p>"They hear, but they don't hear in +the same way we do," Fayon replied. +"If you can't be convinced by anything +else, look at these things, and +compare them with the structure of +the human ear, or the ear of any +member of any other sapient race +we're ever contacted. That's what +I've been saying from the beginning."</p> + +<p>"They have sound-perception to +an extent that makes ours look almost +like deafness," Ayesha Keithley +said. "I wish I could design a sound-detector +one-tenth as good as this +must be."</p> + +<p>Yes. The way the Lord Mayor said +<i>fwoonk</i> and the way Paul Meillard +said it sounded entirely different to +them. Of course, <i>fwoonk</i> and <i>pwink</i> +and <i>tweelt</i> and <i>kroosh</i> sounded alike +to them, but let's don't be too picky +about things.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>There were no hot showers that +evening; Dave Questell's gang had +trouble with the pump and needed +some new parts made up aboard the +ship. They were still working on it +the next morning. He had meant to +start teaching Sonny blacksmithing, +but during the evening Lillian and +Anna had decided to try teaching +Mom a nonphonetic, ideographic, +alphabet, and in the morning they +co-opted Sonny to help. Deprived of +his disciple, he strolled over to watch +the work on the pump. About twenty +Svants had come in from the fields +and were also watching, from the +meadow.</p> + +<p>After a while, the job was finished. +The petty officer in charge of the +work pushed in the switch, and the +pump started, sucking dry with a +harsh racket. The natives twittered in +surprise. Then the water came, and +the pump settled down to a steady +<i>thugg-thugg, thugg-thugg</i>.</p> + +<p>The Svants seemed to like the new +sound; they grimaced in pleasure +and moved closer; within forty or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +fifty feet, they all squatted on the +ground and sat entranced. Others +came in from the fields, drawn by +the sound. They, too, came up and +squatted, until there was a semicircle +of them. The tank took a long time +to fill; until it did, they all sat immobile +and fascinated. Even after it +stopped, many remained, hoping that +it would start again. Paul Meillard +began wondering, a trifle uneasily, if +that would happen every time the +pump went on.</p> + +<p>"They get a positive pleasure from +it. It affects them the same way +Luis' voice does."</p> + +<p>"Mean I have a voice like a +pump?" Gofredo demanded.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm going to find out," +Ayesha Keithley said. "The next time +that starts, I'm going to make a recording, +and compare it with your +voice-recording. I'll give five to one +there'll be a similarity."</p> + +<p>Questell got the foundation for +the sonics lab dug, and began pouring +concrete. That took water, and +the pump ran continuously that +afternoon. Concrete-mixing took +more water the next day, and by noon +the whole village population, down +to the smallest child, was massed at +the pumphouse, enthralled. Mom +was snared by the sound like any of +the rest; only Sonny was unaffected. +Lillian and Ayesha compared recordings +of the voices of the team +with the pump-sound; in Gofredo's +they found an identical frequency-pattern.</p> + +<p>"We'll need the new apparatus to +be positive about it, but it's there, all +right," Ayesha said. "That's why Luis' +voice pleases them."</p> + +<p>"That tags me; Old Pump-Mouth," +Gofredo said. "It'll get all through +the Corps, and they'll be calling me +that when I'm a four-star general, if +I live that long."</p> + +<p>Meillard was really worried, now. +So was Bennet Fayon. He said so that +afternoon at cocktail time.</p> + +<p>"It's an addiction," he declared. +"Once they hear it, they have no will +to resist; they just squat and listen. I +don't know what it's doing to them, +but I'm scared of it."</p> + +<p>"I know one thing it's doing," +Meillard said. "It's keeping them from +their work in the fields. For all we +know, it may cause them to lose a crop +they need badly for subsistence."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/image31.jpg" width="300" height="809" alt="It's killing us it's so nice...." title="It's killing us it's so nice...." /><br /> +<i>It's killing us it's so nice....</i> +</div> + +<p>The native they had come to call +the Lord Mayor evidently thought so, +too. He was with the others, the next +morning, squatting with his staff +across his knees, as bemused as any of +them, but when the pump stopped +he rose and approached a group of +Terrans, launching into what could +only be an impassioned tirade. He +pointed with his staff to the pump +house, and to the semicircle of still +motionless villagers. He pointed to +the fields, and back to the people, +and to the pump house again, gesturing +vehemently with his other hand.</p> + +<p><i>You make the noise. My people +will not work while they hear it. The +fields lie untended. Stop the noise, +and let my people work.</i></p> + +<p>Couldn't possibly be any plainer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then the pump started again. The +Lord Mayor's hands tightened on the +staff; he was struggling tormentedly +with himself, in vain. His face relaxed +into the heartbroken expression +of joy; he turned and shuffled +over, dropping onto his haunches +with the others.</p> + +<p>"Shut down the pump, Dave!" +Meillard called out. "Cut the power +off."</p> + +<p>The <i>thugg-thugg</i>-ing stopped. The +Lord Mayor rose, made an odd +salaamlike bow toward the Terrans, +and then turned on the people, striking +with his staff and shrieking at +them. A few got to their feet and +joined him, screaming, pushing, tugging. +Others joined. In a little while, +they were all on their feet, straggling +away across the fields.</p> + +<p>Dave Questell wanted to know +what it meant; Meillard explained.</p> + +<p>"Well, what are we going to do for +water?" the Navy engineer asked.</p> + +<p>"Soundproof the pump house. You +can do that, can't you?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. Mound it over with earth. +We'll have that done in a few hours."</p> + +<p>That started Gofredo worrying. +"This happens every time we colonize +an inhabited planet. We give +the natives something new. Then we +find out it's bad for them, and we try +to take it away from them. And then +the knives come out, and the shooting +starts."</p> + +<p>Luis Gofredo was also a specialist, +speaking on his subject.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>While they were at lunch, Charley +Loughran screened in from the +other camp and wanted to talk to +Bennet Fayon.</p> + +<p>"A funny thing, Bennet. I took a +shot at a bird ... no, a flying mammal +... and dropped it. It was dead when +it hit the ground, but there isn't a +mark on it. I want you to do an +autopsy, and find out how I can kill +things by missing them."</p> + +<p>"How far away was it?"</p> + +<p>"Call it forty feet; no more."</p> + +<p>"What were you using, Charley?" +Ayesha Keithley called from the +table.</p> + +<p>"Eight-point-five Mars-Consolidated +pistol," Loughran said. "I'd laid +my shotgun down and walked away +from it—"</p> + +<p>"Twelve hundred foot-seconds," +Ayesha said. "Bow-wave as well as +muzzle-blast."</p> + +<p>"You think the report was what +did it?" Fayon asked.</p> + +<p>"You want to bet it didn't?" she +countered.</p> + +<p>Nobody did.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Mom was sulky. She didn't like +what Dave Questell's men were doing +to the nice-noise-place. Ayesha +and Lillian consoled her by taking +her into the soundproofed room and +playing the recording of the pump-noise +for her. Sonny couldn't care +less, one way or another; he spent the +afternoon teaching Mark Howell +what the marks on paper meant. It +took a lot of signs and play-acting. +He had learned about thirty ideographs; +by combining them and +drawing little pictures, he could express +a number of simple ideas.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +There was, of course, a limit to how +many of those things anybody could +learn and remember—look how long +it took an Old Terran Chinese scribe +to learn his profession—but it was +the beginning of a method of communication.</p> + +<p>Questell got the pump house +mounded over. Ayesha came out and +tried a sound-meter, and also Mom, +on it while the pump was running. +Neither reacted.</p> + +<p>A good many Svants were watching +the work. They began to demonstrate +angrily. A couple tried to interfere +and were knocked down with +rifle butts. The Lord Mayor and his +Board of Aldermen came out with +the big horn and harangued them at +length, and finally got them to go +back to the fields. As nearly as anybody +could tell, he was friendly to +and co-operative with the Terrans. +The snooper over the village reported +excitement in the plaza.</p> + +<p>Bennet Fayon had taken an airjeep +to the other camp immediately +after lunch. He was back by 1500, accompanied +by Loughran. They carried +a cloth-wrapped package into +Fayon's dissecting-room. At cocktail +time, Paul Meillard had to go and get +them.</p> + +<p>"Sorry," Fayon said, joining the +group. "Didn't notice how late it was +getting. We're still doing a post on +this svant-bat; that's what Charley's +calling it, till we get the native +name.</p> + +<p>"The immediate cause of death was +spasmodic contraction of every muscle +in the thing's body; some of them +were partly relaxed before we could +get to work on it, but not completely. +Every bone that isn't broken is +dislocated; a good many both. There +is not the slightest trace of external +injury. Everything was done by its +own muscles." He looked around. "I +hope nobody covered Ayesha's bet, +after I left. If they did, she collects. +The large outer membranes in the +comb seem to be unaffected, but +there is considerable compression of +the small round ones inside, in just +one area, and more on the left side +than on the right. Charley says it was +flying across in front of him from +left to right."</p> + +<p>"The receptor-area responding to +the frequencies of the report," Ayesha +said.</p> + +<p>Anna de Jong made a passing +gesture toward Fayon. "The baby's +yours, Bennet," she said. "This isn't +psychological. I won't accept a case +of psychosomatic compound fracture."</p> + +<p>"Don't be too premature about it, +Anna. I think that's more or less +what you have, here."</p> + +<p>Everybody looked at him, surprised. +His subject was comparative +technology. The bio- and psycho-sciences +were completely outside his +field.</p> + +<p>"A lot of things have been bothering +me, ever since the first contact. +I'm beginning to think I'm on the +edge of understanding them, now. +Bennet, the higher life-forms here—the +people, and that domsee, and +Charley's svant-bat—are structurally +identical with us. I don't mean gross<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +structure, like ears and combs. I +mean molecular and cellular and tissue +structure. Is that right?"</p> + +<p>Fayon nodded. "Biology on this +planet is exactly Terra type. Yes. +With adequate safeguards, I'd even +say you could make a viable tissue-graft +from a Svant to a Terran, or +vice versa."</p> + +<p>"Ayesha, would the sound waves +from that pistol-shot in any conceivable +way have the sort of physical +effect we're considering?"</p> + +<p>"Absolutely not," she said, and +Luis Gofredo said: "I've been shot at +and missed with pistols at closer +range than that."</p> + +<p>"Then it was the effect on the animal's +nervous system."</p> + +<p>Anna shrugged. "It's still Bennet's +baby. I'm a psychologist, not a +neurologist."</p> + +<p>"What I've been saying, all along," +Fayon reiterated complacently. +"Their hearing is different from ours. +This proves it.</p> + +<p>"It proves that they don't hear at +all."</p> + +<p>He had expected an explosion; he +wasn't disappointed. They all contradicted +him, many derisively. Signal +reactions. Only Paul Meillard +made the semantically appropriate +response:</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Mark?"</p> + +<p>"They don't <i>hear</i> sound; they <i>feel</i> +it. You all saw what they have inside +their combs. Those things don't transmit +sound like the ears of any sound-sensitive +life-form we've ever seen. +They transform sound waves into +tactile sensations."</p> + +<p>Fayon cursed, slowly and luridly. +Anna de Jong looked at him wide-eyed. +He finished his cocktail and +poured another. In the snooper +screen, what looked like an indignation +meeting was making uproar in +the village plaza. Gofredo cut the +volume of the speaker even lower.</p> + + + +<p>"That would explain a lot of +things," Meillard said slowly. "How +hard it was for them to realize that +we didn't understand when they +talked to us. A punch in the nose +feels the same to anybody. They +thought they were giving us bodily +feelings. They didn't know we were +insensible to them."</p> + +<p>"But they do ... they do have a +language," Lillian faltered. "They +talk."</p> + +<p>"Not the way we understand it. If +they want to say, 'Me,' it's <i>tickle-pinch-rub</i>, +even if it sounds like +<i>fwoonk</i> to us, when it doesn't sound +like <i>pwink</i> or <i>tweelt</i> or <i>kroosh</i>. The +tactile sensations, to a Svant, feel no +more different than a massage by +four different hands. Analogous to a +word pronounced by four different +voices, to us. They'll have a code for +expressing meanings in tactile sensation, +just as we have a code for expressing +meanings in audible sound."</p> + +<p>"Except that when a Svant tells another, +'I am happy,' or 'I have a +stomach-ache,' he makes the other +one feel that way too," Anna said. +"That would carry an awful lot more +conviction. I don't imagine symptom-swapping +is popular among +Svants. Karl! You were nearly right,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +at that. This isn't telepathy, but it's a +lot like it."</p> + +<p>"So it is," Dorver, who had been +mourning his departed telepathy +theory, said brightly. "And look how +it explains their society. Peaceful, +everybody in quick agreement—" He +looked at the screen and gulped. The +Lord Mayor and his party had formed +one clump, and the opposition was +grouped at the other side of the +plaza; they were screaming in unison +at each other. "They make their decisions +by endurance; the party that +can resist the feelings of the other +longest converts their opponents."</p> + +<p>"Pure democracy," Gofredo declared. +"Rule by the party that can +make the most noise."</p> + +<p>"And I'll bet that when they're +sick, they go around chanting, 'I am +well; I feel just fine!'" Anna said. +"Autosuggestion would really work, +here. Think of the feedback, too. +One Svant has a feeling. He verbalizes +it, and the sound of his own +voice re-enforces it in him. It is induced +in his hearers, and they verbalize +it, re-enforcing it in themselves +and in him. This could go on +and on."</p> + +<p>"Yes. It has. Look at their technology." +He felt more comfortable, +now he was on home ground again. +"A friend of mine, speaking about a +mutual acquaintance, once said, +'When they installed her circuits, +they put in such big feeling circuits +that there was no room left for any +thinking circuits.' I think that's a +perfect description of what I estimate +Svant mentality to be. Take these +bronze knives, and the musical instruments. +Wonderful; the work of individuals +trying to express feeling in +metal or wood. But get an idea like +the wheel, or even a pair of tongs? +Poo! How would you state the First +Law of Motion, or the Second Law of +Thermodynamics, in tickle-pinch-rub +terms? Sonny could grasp an idea +like that. Sonny's handicap, if you +call it that, cuts him off from feel-thinking; +he can think logically instead +of sensually."</p> + +<p>He sipped his cocktail and continued: +"I can understand why the +village is mounded up, too. I realized +that while I was watching Dave's +gang bury the pump house. I'd been +bothered by that, and by the absence +of granaries for all the grain they +raise, and by the number of people +for so few and such small houses. I +think the village is mostly underground, +and the houses are just entrances, +soundproofed, to shelter +them from uncomfortable natural +noises​—​thunderstorms, for instance."</p> + + + +<p>The horn was braying in the +snooper-screen speaker; somebody +wondered what it was for. Gofredo +laughed.</p> + +<p>"I thought, at first, that it was a +war-horn. It isn't. It's a peace-horn," +he said. "Public tranquilizer. The +first day, they brought it out and blew +it at us to make us peaceable."</p> + +<p>"Now I see why Sonny is rejected +and persecuted," Anna was saying. +"He must make all sorts of horrible +noises that he can't hear ... that's not +the word; we have none for it ... and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +nobody but his mother can stand being +near him."</p> + +<p>"Like me," Lillian said. "Now I +understand. Just think of the most +revolting thing that could be done to +you physically; that's what I do to +them every time I speak. And I always +thought I had a nice voice," she +added, pathetically.</p> + +<p>"You have, for Terrans," Ayesha +said. "For Svants, you'll just have to +change it."</p> + +<p>"But how—?"</p> + +<p>"Use an analyzer; train it. That +was why I took up sonics, in the first +place. I had a voice like a crow with +a sore throat, but by practicing with +an analyzer, an hour a day, I gave +myself an entirely different voice in +a couple of months. Just try to get +some pump-sound frequencies into +it, like Luis'."</p> + +<p>"But why? I'm no use here. I'm a +linguist, and these people haven't +any language that I could ever learn, +and they couldn't even learn ours. +They couldn't learn to make sounds, +as sounds."</p> + +<p>"You've been doing very good +work with Mom on those ideographs," +Meillard said. "Keep it up till +you've taught her the Lingua Terra +Basic vocabulary, and with her help +we can train a few more. They can +be our interpreters; we can write +what we want them to say to the +others. It'll be clumsy, but it will +work, and it's about the only thing I +can think of that will."</p> + +<p>"And it will improve in time," +Ayesha added. "And we can make +vocoders and visibilizers. Paul, you +have authority to requisition personnel +from the ship's company. Draft +me; I'll stay here and work on it."</p> + +<p>The rumpus in the village plaza +was getting worse. The Lord Mayor +and his adherents were being out-shouted +by the opposition.</p> + +<p>"Better do something about that +in a hurry, Paul, if you don't want a +lot of Svants shot," Gofredo said. +"Give that another half hour and +we'll have visitors, with bows and +spears."</p> + +<p>"Ayesha, you have a recording of +the pump," Meillard said. "Load a +record-player onto a jeep and fly over +the village and play it for them. Do +it right away. Anna, get Mom in +here. We want to get her to tell that +gang that from now on, at noon and +for a couple of hours after sunset, +when the work's done, there will be +free public pump-concerts, over the +village plaza."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Ayesha and her warrant-officer +helper and a Marine lieutenant went +out hastily. Everybody else faced the +screen to watch. In fifteen minutes, +an airjeep was coming in on the village. +As it circled low, a new sound, +the steady <i>thugg-thugg, thugg-thugg</i> +of the pump, began.</p> + +<p>The yelling and twittering and +the blaring of the peace-horn died +out almost at once. As the jeep circled +down to housetop level, the +two contending faction-clumps broke +apart; their component individuals +moved into the center of the plaza +and squatted, staring up, letting the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +delicious waves of sound caress +them.</p> + +<p>"Do we have to send a detail in a +jeep to do that twice a day?" Gofredo +asked. "We keep a snooper over the +village; fit it with a loud-speaker and +a timer; it can give them their <i>thugg-thugg</i>, +on schedule, automatically."</p> + +<p>"We might give the Lord Mayor a +recording and a player and let him +decide when the people ought to listen—if +that's the word—to it," +Dorver said. "Then it would be +something of their own."</p> + +<p>"No!" He spoke so vehemently +that the others started. "You know +what would happen? Nobody would +be able to turn it off; they'd all be +hypnotized, or doped, or whatever it +is. They'd just sit in a circle around it +till they starved to death, and when +the power-unit gave out, the record-player +would be surrounded by a +ring of skeletons. We'll just have to +keep on playing it for them ourselves. +Terrans' Burden."</p> + +<p>"That'll give us a sanction over +them," Gofredo observed. "Extra +<i>thugg-thugg</i> if they're very good; +shut it off on them if they act nasty. +And find out what Lillian has in her +voice that the rest of us don't have, +and make a good loud recording of +that, and stash it away along with the +rest of the heavy-weapons ammunition. +You know, you're not going to +have any trouble at all, when we go +down-country to talk to the king or +whatever. This is better than fire-water +ever was."</p> + +<p>"We must never misuse our advantage, +Luis," Meillard said seriously. +"We must use it only for their +good."</p> + +<p>He really meant it. Only—You +had to know some general history to +study technological history, and it +seemed to him that that pious assertion +had been made a few times before. +Some of the others who had +made it had really meant it, too, but +that had made little difference in the +long run.</p> + +<p>Fayon and Anna were talking enthusiastically +about the work ahead +of them.</p> + +<p>"I don't know where your subject +ends and mine begins," Anna was +saying. "We'll just have to handle it +between us. What are we going to +call it? We certainly can't call it +hearing."</p> + +<p>"Nonauditory sonic sense is the +only thing I can think of," Fayon +said. "And that's such a clumsy +term."</p> + +<p>"Mark; you thought of it first," +Anna said. "What do you think?"</p> + +<p>"Nonauditory sonic sense. It isn't +any worse than Domesticated Type +C, and that got cut down to size. +<i>Naudsonce.</i>"</p> + +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Naudsonce, by H. Beam Piper + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NAUDSONCE *** + +***** This file should be named 19076-h.htm or 19076-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/0/7/19076/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, William Woods, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Beam Piper + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Naudsonce + +Author: H. Beam Piper + +Illustrator: Morey + +Release Date: August 18, 2006 [EBook #19076] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NAUDSONCE *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, William Woods, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +NAUDSONCE + + + + Bishop Berkeley's famous question + about the sound of a falling tree + may have no standing in Science. + But there is a highly interesting + question about "sound" that Science + needs to consider.... + + + +BY H. BEAM PIPER + +ILLUSTRATED BY MOREY + + * * * * * + + + + +[Illustration] + + +The sun warmed Mark Howell's back pleasantly. Underfoot, the +mosslike stuff was soft and yielding, and there was a fragrance +in the air unlike anything he had ever smelled. He was going to +like this planet; he knew it. The question was, how would it, +and its people, like him? He watched the little figures advancing +across the fields from the mound, with the village out of sight +on the other end of it and the combat-car circling lazily on +contragravity above. + +Major Luis Gofredo, the Marine officer, spoke without lowering +his binoculars: + +"They have a tubular thing about twelve feet long; six of them +are carrying it on poles, three to a side, and a couple more are +walking behind it. Mark, do you think it could be a cannon?" + +So far, he didn't know enough to have an opinion, and said so, +adding: + +"What I saw of the village in the screen from the car, it looked +pretty primitive. Of course, gunpowder's one of those things a +primitive people could discover by accident, if the ingredients +were available." + +"We won't take any chances, then." + +"You think they're hostile? I was hoping they were coming out to +parley with us." + +That was Paul Meillard. He had a right to be anxious; his whole +future in the Colonial Office would be made or ruined by what was +going to happen here. + +The joint Space Navy-Colonial Office expedition was looking for +new planets suitable for colonization; they had been out, now, +for four years, which was close to maximum for an exploring +expedition. They had entered eleven systems, and made landings +on eight planets. Three had been reasonably close to Terra-type. +There had been Fafnir; conditions there would correspond to Terra +during the Cretaceous Period, but any Cretaceous dinosaur would +have been cute and cuddly to the things on Fafnir. Then there had +been Imhotep; in twenty or thirty thousand years, it would be +a fine planet, but at present it was undergoing an extensive +glaciation. And Irminsul, covered with forests of gigantic trees; +it would have been fine except for the fauna, which was nasty, +especially a race of subsapient near-humanoids who had just +gotten as far as clubs and _coup-de-poing_ axes. Contact with +them had entailed heavy ammunition expenditure, with two men and +a woman killed and a dozen injured. He'd had a limp, himself, +for a while as a result. + +As for the other five, one had been an all-out hell-planet, and +the rest had been the sort that get colonized by irreconcilable +minority-groups who want to get away from everybody else. The +Colonial Office wouldn't even consider any of them. + +Then they had found this one, third of a G0-star, eighty million +miles from primary, less axial inclination than Terra, which would +mean a more uniform year-round temperature, and about half land +surface. On the evidence of a couple of sneak landings for +specimens, the biochemistry was identical with Terra's and the +organic matter was edible. It was the sort of planet every explorer +dreams of finding, except for one thing. + +It was inhabited by a sapient humanoid race, and some of them were +civilized enough to put it in Class V, and Colonial Office doctrine +on Class V planets was rigid. Friendly relations with the natives +had to be established, and permission to settle had to be guaranteed +in a treaty of some sort with somebody more or less authorized to +make one. + +If Paul Meillard could accomplish that, he had it made. He would +stay on with forty or fifty of the ship's company to make +preparations. In a year a couple of ships would come out from Terra, +with a thousand colonists, and a battalion or so of Federation +troops, to protect them from the natives and vice versa. Meillard +would automatically be appointed governor-general. + +But if he failed, he was through. Not out--just through. When he +got back to Terra, he would be promoted to some home office position +at slightly higher base pay but without the three hundred per cent +extraterrestrial bonus, and he would vegetate there till he retired. +Every time his name came up, somebody would say, "Oh, yes; he +flubbed the contact on Whatzit." + +It wouldn't do the rest of them any good, either. There would +always be the suspicion that they had contributed to the failure. + + * * * * * + +_Bwaaa-waaa-waaanh!_ + +The wavering sound hung for an instant in the air. A few seconds +later, it was repeated, then repeated again. + +"Our cannon's a horn," Gofredo said. "I can't see how they're +blowing it, though." + +There was a stir to right and left, among the Marines deployed +in a crescent line on either side of the contact team; a metallic +clatter as weapons were checked. A shadow fell in front of them +as a combat-car moved into position above. + +"What do you suppose it means?" Meillard wondered. + +"Terrans, go home." He drew a frown from Meillard with the +suggestion. "Maybe it's supposed to intimidate us." + +"They're probably doing it to encourage themselves," Anna de Jong, +the psychologist, said. "I'll bet they're really scared stiff." + +"I see how they're blowing it," Gofredo said. "The man who's walking +behind it has a hand-bellows." He raised his voice. "Fix bayonets! +These people don't know anything about rifles, but they know what +spears are. They have some of their own." + +So they had. The six who walked in the lead were unarmed, unless +the thing one of them carried was a spear. So, it seemed, were the +horn-bearers. Behind them, however, in an open-order skirmish-line, +came fifty-odd with weapons. Most of them had spears, the points +glinting redly. Bronze, with a high copper content. A few had bows. +They came slowly; details became more plainly visible. + +The leader wore a long yellow robe; the thing in his hand was a +bronze-headed staff. Three of his companions also wore robes; the +other two were bare-legged in short tunics. The horn-bearers wore +either robes or tunics; the spearmen and bowmen behind either wore +tunics or were naked except for breechclouts. All wore sandals. They +were red-brown in color, completely hairless; they had long necks, +almost chinless lower jaws, and fleshy, beaklike noses that gave +them an avian appearance which was heightened by red crests, like +roosters' combs, on the tops of their heads. + +"Well, aren't they something to see?" Lillian Ransby, the linguist asked. + +"I wonder how we look to them," Paul Meillard said. + +That was something to wonder about, too. The differences between +one and another of the Terrans must puzzle them. Paul Meillard, as +close to being a pure Negro as anybody in the Seventh Century of +the Atomic Era was to being pure anything. Lillian Ransby, almost +ash-blond. Major Gofredo, barely over the minimum Service height +requirement; his name was Old Terran Spanish, but his ancestry +must have been Polynesian, Amerind and Mongolian. Karl Dorver, +the sociographer, six feet six, with red hair. Bennet Fayon, +the biologist and physiologist, plump, pink-faced and balding. +Willi Schallenmacher, with a bushy black beard.... + +They didn't have any ears, he noticed, and then he was taking stock +of the things they wore and carried. Belts, with pouches, and knives +with flat bronze blades and riveted handles. Three of the delegation +had small flutes hung by cords around their necks, and a fourth had +a reed Pan-pipe. No shields, and no swords; that was good. Swords +and shields mean organized warfare, possibly a warrior-caste. This +crowd weren't warriors. The spearmen and bowmen weren't arrayed for +battle, but for a drive-hunt, with the bows behind the spears to +stop anything that broke through the line. + +"All right; let's go meet them." The querulous, uncertain note was +gone from Meillard's voice; he knew what to do and how to do it. + + * * * * * + +Gofredo called to the Marines to stand fast. Then they were +advancing to meet the natives, and when they were twenty feet apart, +both groups halted. The horn stopped blowing. The one in the yellow +robe lifted his staff and said something that sounded like, +"_Tweedle-eedle-oodly-eenk_." + +The horn, he saw, was made of strips of leather, wound spirally +and coated with some kind of varnish. Everything these people had +was carefully and finely made. An old culture, but a static one. +Probably tradition-bound as all get-out. + +Meillard was raising his hands; solemnly he addressed the natives: + +"'Twas brillig and the slithy toves were whooping it up in the +Malemute Saloon, and the kid that handled the music box did gyre +and gimble in the wabe, and back of the bar in a solo game all +mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgabe the lady +that's known as Lou." + +That was supposed to show them that we, too, have a spoken language, +to prove that their language and ours were mutually incomprehensible, +and to demonstrate the need for devising a means of communication. +At least that was what the book said. It demonstrated nothing of +the sort to this crowd. It scared them. The dignitary with the staff +twittered excitedly. One of his companions agreed with him at length. +Another started to reach for his knife, then remembered his manners. +The bellowsman pumped a few blasts on the horn. + +"What do you think of the language?" he asked Lillian. + +"They all sound that bad, when you first hear them. Give them a few +seconds, and then we'll have Phase Two." + +When the gibbering and skreeking began to fall off, she stepped +forward. Lillian was, herself, a good test of how human aliens were; +this gang weren't human enough to whistle at her. She touched +herself on the breast. "Me," she said. + +The natives seemed shocked. She repeated the gesture and the word, +then turned and addressed Paul Meillard. "You." + +"Me," Meillard said, pointing to himself. Then he said, "You," to +Luis Gofredo. It went around the contact team; when it came to him, +he returned it to point of origin. + +"I don't think they get it at all," he added in a whisper. + +"They ought to," Lillian said. "Every language has a word for self +and a word for person-addressed." + +"Well, look at them," Karl Dorver invited. "Six different opinions +about what we mean, and now the band's starting an argument of their +own." + +"Phase Two-A," Lillian said firmly, stepping forward. She pointed +to herself. "Me--Lillian Ransby. Lillian Ransby--me _name_. +You--_name_? + +"_Bwoooo!_" the spokesman screamed in horror, clutching his staff +as though to shield it from profanation. The others howled like +a hound-pack at a full moon, except one of the short-tunic boys, +who was slapping himself on the head with both hands and yodeling. +The horn-crew hastily swung their piece around at the Terrans, +pumping frantically. + +"What do you suppose I said?" Lillian asked. + +"Oh, something like, 'Curse your gods, death to your king, and +spit in your mother's face,' I suppose." + +"Let me try it," Gofredo said. + +The little Marine major went through the same routine. At his first +word, the uproar stopped; before he was through, the natives' faces +were sagging and crumbling into expressions of utter and +heartbroken grief. + +"It's not as bad as all that, is it?" he said. "You try it, Mark." + +"Me ... Mark ... Howell...." They looked bewildered. + +"Let's try objects, and play-acting," Lillian suggested. "They're +farmers; they ought to have a word for water." + + * * * * * + +They spent almost an hour at it. They poured out two gallons of +water, pretended to be thirsty, gave each other drinks. The natives +simply couldn't agree on the word, in their own language, for water. +That or else they missed the point of the whole act. They tried +fire, next. The efficiency of a steel hatchet was impressive, and +so was the sudden flame of a pocket-lighter, but no word for fire +emerged, either. + +"Ah, to Niflheim with it!" Luis Gofredo cried in exasperation. +"We're getting nowhere at five times light speed. Give them their +presents and send them home, Paul." + +"Sheath-knives; they'll have to be shown how sharp they are," +he suggested. "Red bandannas. And costume jewelry." + +"How about something to eat, Bennet?" Meillard asked Fayon. + +"Extee Three, and C-H trade candy," Fayon said. Field Ration, +Extraterrestrial Service, Type Three, could be eaten by anything +with a carbon-hydrogen metabolism, and so could the trade candy. +"Nothing else, though, till we have some idea what goes on inside +them." + +Dorver thought the six members of the delegation would be persons +of special consequence, and should have something extra. That was +probably so. Dorver was as quick to pick up clues to an alien social +order as he was, himself, to deduce a culture pattern from a few +artifacts. He and Lillian went back to the landing craft to collect +the presents. + +Everybody, horn-detail, armed guard and all, got one ten-inch bowie +knife and sheath, a red bandanna neckcloth, and a piece of flashy +junk jewelry. The (town council? prominent citizens? or what?) also +received a colored table-spread apiece; these were draped over their +shoulders and fastened with two-inch plastic pins advertising the +candidacy of somebody for President of the Federation Member Republic +of Venus a couple of elections ago. They all looked woebegone about +it; that would be their expression of joy. Different type nerves and +different facial musculature, Fayon thought. As soon as they sampled +the Extee Three and candy, they looked crushed under all the sorrows +of the galaxy. + +By pantomime and pointing to the sun, Meillard managed to inform +them that the next day, when the sun was in the same position, the +Terrans would visit their village, bringing more gifts. The natives +were quite agreeable, but Meillard was disgruntled that he had to +use sign-talk. The natives started off toward the village on the +mound, munching Extee Three and trying out their new knives. This +time tomorrow, half of them would have bandaged thumbs. + + * * * * * + +The Marine riflemen and submachine-gunners were coming in, slinging +their weapons and lighting cigarettes. A couple of Navy technicians +were getting a snooper--a thing shaped like a short-tailed tadpole, +six feet long by three at the widest, fitted with visible-light +and infra-red screen pickups and crammed with detection +instruments--ready to relieve the combat car over the village. +The contact team crowded into the Number One landing craft, which +had been fitted out as a temporary headquarters. Prefab-hut elements +were already being unloaded from the other craft. + +Everybody felt that a drink was in order, even if it was two hours +short of cocktail time. They carried bottles and glasses and ice to +the front of the landing craft and sat down in front of the battery +of view and communication screens. The central screen was a two-way, +tuned to one in the officers' lounge aboard the _Hubert Penrose_, +two hundred miles above. In it, also provided with drinks, were +Captain Guy Vindinho and two other Navy officers, and a Marine +captain in shipboard blues. Like Gofredo, Vindinho must have gotten +into the Service on tiptoe; he had a bald dome and a red beard, and +he always looked as though he were gloating because nobody knew +that his name was really Rumplestiltskin. He had been watching +the contact by screen. He lifted his glass toward Meillard. + +"Over the hump, Paul?" + +Meillard raised his drink to Vindinho. "Over the first one. +There's a whole string of them ahead. At least, we sent them away +happy. I hope." + +"You're going to make permanent camp where you are now?" one of +the other officers asked. Lieutenant-Commander Dave Questell; +ground engineering and construction officer. "What do you need?" + +There were two viewscreens from pickups aboard the 2500-foot battle +cruiser. One, at ten-power magnification, gave a maplike view of the +broad valley and the uplands and mountain foothills to the south. It +was only by tracing the course of the main river and its tributaries +that they could find the tiny spot of the native village, and they +couldn't see the landing craft at all. The other, at a hundred +power, showed the oblong mound, with the village on its flat top, +little dots around a circular central plaza. They could see the two +turtle-shaped landing-craft, and the combat car, that had been +circling over the mound, landing beside them, and, sometimes, +a glint of sunlight from the snooper that had taken its place. + +The snooper was also transmitting in, to another screen, from +two hundred feet above the village. From the sound outlet came an +incessant gibber of native voices. There were over a hundred houses, +all small and square, with pyramidal roofs. On the end of the mound +toward the Terran camp, animals of at least four different species +were crowded, cattle that had been herded up from the meadows at +the first alarm. The open circle in the middle of the village was +crowded, and more natives lined the low palisade along the edge +of the mound. + +"Well, we're going to stay here till we learn the language," +Meillard was saying. "This is the best place for it. It's completely +isolated, forests on both sides, and seventy miles to the nearest +other village. If we're careful, we can stay here as long as we want +to and nobody'll find out about us. Then, after we can talk with +these people, we'll go to the big town." + + * * * * * + +The big town was two hundred and fifty miles down the valley, +at the forks of the main river, a veritable metropolis of almost +three thousand people. That was where the treaty would have to +be negotiated. + +[Illustration: "... But no two of them speak the same language!"] + +"You'll want more huts. You'll want a water tank, and a pipeline +to that stream below you, and a pump," Questell said. "You think +a month?" + +Meillard looked at Lillian Ransby. "What do you think?" + +"_Poodly-doodly-oodly-foodle_," she said. "You saw how far we didn't +get this afternoon. All we found out was that none of the standard +procedures work at all." She made a tossing gesture over her shoulder. +"There goes the book; we have to do it off the cuff from here." + +"Suppose we make another landing, back in the mountains, say two or +three hundred miles south of you," Vindinho said. "It's not right +to keep the rest aboard two hundred miles off planet, and you won't +be wanting liberty parties coming down where you are." + +"The country over there looks uninhabited," Meillard said. +"No villages, anyhow. That wouldn't hurt, at all." + +"Well, it'll suit me," Charley Loughran, the xeno-naturalist, said. +"I want a chance to study the life-forms in a state of nature." + +Vindinho nodded. "Luis, do you anticipate any trouble with this +crowd here?" he asked. + +"How about it, Mark? What do they look like to you? Warlike?" + +"No." He stated the opinion he had formed. "I had a close look at +their weapons when they came in for their presents. Hunting arms. +Most of the spears have cross-guards, usually wooden, lashed on, +to prevent a wounded animal from running up the spear-shaft at the +hunter. They made boar-spears like that on Terra a thousand years +ago. Maybe they have to fight raiding parties from the hills once +in a while, but not often enough for them to develop special +fighting weapons or techniques." + +"Their village is fortified," Meillard mentioned. + +"I question that," Gofredo differed. "There won't be more than +a total of five hundred there; call that a fighting strength of +two hundred, to defend a twenty-five-hundred-meter perimeter, with +woodchoppers' axes and bows and spears. If you notice, there's no +wall around the village itself. That palisade is just a fence." + +"Why would they mound the village up?" Questell, in the screen +wondered. "You don't think the river gets up that high, do you? +Because if it does--" + +Schallenmacher shook his head. "There just isn't enough watershed, +and there's too much valley. I'll be very much surprised if that +stream, there"--he nodded at the hundred-power screen--"ever gets +more than six inches over the bank." + +"I don't know what those houses are built of. This is all alluvial +country; building stone would be almost unobtainable. I don't see +anything like a brick kiln. I don't see any evidence of irrigation, +either, so there must be plenty of rainfall. If they use adobe, or +sun-dried brick, houses would start to crumble in a few years, and +they would be pulled down and the rubble shoved aside to make room +for a new house. The village has been rising on its own ruins, +probably shifting back and forth from one end of that mound to +the other." + +"If that's it, they've been there a long time," Karl Dorver said. +"And how far have they advanced?" + +"Early bronze; I'll bet they still use a lot of stone implements. +Pre-dynastic Egypt, or very early Tigris-Euphrates, in Terran terms. +I can't see any evidence that they have the wheel. They have draft +animals; when we were coming down, I saw a few of them pulling pole +travoises. I'd say they've been farming for a long time. They have +quite a diversity of crops, and I suspect that they have some idea +of crop-rotation. I'm amazed at their musical instruments; they seem +to have put more skill into making them than anything else. I'm +going to take a jeep, while they're all in the village, and have +a look around the fields, now." + +Charley Loughran went along for specimens, and, for the ride, +Lillian Ransby. Most of his guesses, he found, had been correct. +He found a number of pole travoises, from which the animals had +been unhitched in the first panic when the landing craft had been +coming down. Some of them had big baskets permanently attached. +There were drag-marks everywhere in the soft ground, but not a +single wheel track. He found one plow, cunningly put together with +wooden pegs and rawhide lashings; the point was stone, and it +would only score a narrow groove, not a proper furrow. It was, +however, fitted with a big bronze ring to which a draft animal +could be hitched. Most of the cultivation seemed to have been done +with spades and hoes. He found a couple of each, bronze, cast flat +in an open-top mold. They hadn't learned to make composite molds. + +There was an even wider variety of crops than he had expected: two +cereals, a number of different root-plants, and a lot of different +legumes, and things like tomatoes and pumpkins. + +"Bet these people had a pretty good life, here--before the Terrans +came," Charley observed. + +"Don't say that in front of Paul," Lillian warned. "He has enough +to worry about now, without starting him on whether we'll do these +people more harm than good." + +Two more landing craft had come down from the _Hubert Penrose_; +they found Dave Questell superintending the unloading of more +prefab-huts, and two were already up that had been brought down +with the first landing. + +A name for the planet had also arrived. + +"Svantovit," Karl Dorver told him. "Principal god of the Baltic +Slavs, about three thousand years ago. Guy Vindinho dug it out +of the 'Encyclopedia of Mythology.' Svantovit was represented as +holding a bow in one hand and a horn in the other." + +"Well, that fits. What will we call the natives; Svantovitians, +or Svantovese?" + +"Well, Paul wanted to call them Svantovese, but Luis persuaded him +to call them Svants. He said everybody'd call them that, anyhow, +so we might as well make it official from the start." + +"We can call the language Svantovese," Lillian decided. "After +dinner, I am going to start playing back recordings and running off +audiovisuals. I will be so happy to know that I have a name for what +I'm studying. Probably be all I will know." + + * * * * * + +After dinner, he and Karl and Paul went into a huddle on what sort +of gifts to give the natives, and the advisability of trading with +them, and for what. Nothing too far in advance of their present +culture level. Wheels; they could be made in the fabricating shop +aboard the ship. + +"You know, it's odd," Karl Dorver said. "These people here have +never seen a wheel, and, except in documentary or historical-drama +films, neither have a lot of Terrans." + +That was true. As a means of transportation, the wheel had been +completely obsolete since the development of contragravity, six +centuries ago. Well, a lot of Terrans in the Year Zero had never +seen a suit of armor, or an harquebus, or even a tinder box or +a spinning wheel. + +Wheelbarrows; now there was something they'd find useful. He +screened Max Milzer, in charge of the fabricating and repair shops +on the ship. Max had never even heard of a wheelbarrow. + +"I can make them up, Mark; better send me some drawings, though. +Did you just invent it?" + +"As far as I know, a man named Leonardo da Vinci invented it, in +the Sixth Century Pre-Atomic. How soon can you get me half a dozen +of them?" + +"Well, let's see. Welded sheet metal, and pipe for the frame and +handles. I'll have some of them for you by noon tomorrow. Now, about +hoes; how tall are these people, and how long are their arms, and +how far can they stoop over?" + + * * * * * + +They were all up late, that night. So were the Svants; there was a +fire burning in the middle of the village, and watch-fires along the +edge of the mound. Luis Gofredo was just as distrustful of them as +they were of the Terrans; he kept the camp lighted, a strong guard +on the alert, and the area of darkness beyond infra red lighted and +covered by photoelectric sentries on the ground and snoopers in the +air. Like Paul Meillard, Luis Gofredo was a worrier and a pessimist. +Everything happened for the worst in this worst of all possible +galaxies, and if anything could conceivably go wrong, it infallibly +would. That was probably why he was still alive and had never had +a command massacred. + +The wheelbarrows, four of them, came down from the ship by midmorning. +With them came a grindstone, a couple of crosscut saws, and a lot of +picks and shovels and axes, and cases of sheath knives and mess gear +and miscellaneous trade goods, including a lot of the empty wine and +whisky bottles that had been hoarded for the past four years. + +At lunch, the talk was almost exclusively about the language problem. +Lillian Ransby, who had not gotten to sleep before sunrise and had +just gotten up, was discouraged. + +"I don't know what we're going to do next," she admitted. "Glenn +Orent and Anna and I were on it all night, and we're nowhere. We +have about a hundred wordlike sounds isolated, and twenty or so are +used repeatedly, and we can't assign a meaning to any of them. And +none of the Svants ever reacted the same way twice to anything we +said to them. There's just no one-to-one relationship anywhere." + +"I'm beginning to doubt they have a language," the Navy intelligence +officer said. "Sure, they make a lot of vocal noise. So do chipmunks." + +"They have to have a language," Anna de Jong declared. "No sapient +thought is possible without verbalization." + +"Well, no society like that is possible without some means of +communication," Karl Dorver supported her from the other flank. +He seemed to have made that point before. "You know," he added, +"I'm beginning to wonder if it mightn't be telepathy." + +He evidently hadn't suggested that before. The others looked at +him in surprise. Anna started to say, "Oh, I doubt if--" and then +stopped. + +"I know, the race of telepaths is an old gimmick that's been used in +new-planet adventure stories for centuries, but maybe we've finally +found one." + +"I don't like it, Karl," Loughran said. "If they're telepaths, why +don't they understand us? And if they're telepaths, why do they talk +at all? And you can't convince me that this boodly-oodly-doodle of +theirs isn't talking." + +"Well, our neural structure and theirs won't be nearly alike," +Fayon said. "I know, this analogy between telepathy and radio +is full of holes, but it's good enough for this. Our wave length +can't be picked up with their sets." + +"The deuce it can't," Gofredo contradicted. "I've been bothered +about that from the beginning. These people act as though they got +meaning from us. Not the meaning we intend, but some meaning. When +Paul made the gobbledygook speech, they all reacted in the same +way--frightened, and then defensive. The you-me routine simply +bewildered them, as we'd be at a set of semantically lucid but +self-contradictory statements. When Lillian tried to introduce +herself, they were shocked and horrified...." + +"It looked to me like actual physical disgust," Anna interpolated. + +"When I tried it, they acted like a lot of puppies being petted, +and when Mark tried it, they were simply baffled. I watched Mark +explaining that steel knives were dangerously sharp; they got the +demonstration, but when he tried to tie words onto it, it threw +them completely." + +"ALL RIGHT. Pass that," Loughran conceded. "But if they have +telepathy, why do they use spoken words?" + +"Oh, I can answer that," Anna said. "Say they communicated by speech +originally, and developed their telepathic faculty slowly and without +realizing it. They'd go on using speech, and since the message would +be received telepathically ahead of the spoken message, nobody would +pay any attention to the words as such. Everybody would have a spoken +language of his own; it would be sort of the instrumental +accompaniment to the song." + +"Some of them don't bother speaking," Karl nodded. "They just toot." + +"I'll buy that, right away," Loughran agreed. "In mating, or +in group-danger situations, telepathy would be a race-survival +characteristic. It would be selected for genetically, and the +non-gifted strains would tend to die out." + +It wouldn't do. It wouldn't do at all. He said so. + +"Look at their technology. We either have a young race, just emerged +from savagery, or an old, stagnant race. All indications seem to +favor the latter. A young race would not have time to develop +telepathy as Anna suggests. An old race would have gone much farther +than these people have. Progress is a matter of communication and +pooling ideas and discoveries. Make a trend-graph of technological +progress on Terra; every big jump comes after an improvement in +communications. The printing press; railways and steamships; the +telegraph; radio. Then think how telepathy would speed up progress." + + * * * * * + +The sun was barely past noon meridian before the Svants, who had +ventured down into the fields at sunrise, were returning to the +mound-village. In the snooper-screen, they could be seen coming up +in tunics and breechclouts, entering houses, and emerging in long +robes. There seemed to be no bows or spears in evidence, but the big +horn sounded occasionally. Paul Meillard was pleased. Even if it had +been by sign-talk, which he rated with worm-fishing for trout or +shooting sitting rabbits, he had gotten something across to them. + +When they went to the village, at 1500, they had trouble getting +their lorry down. A couple of Marines in a jeep had to go in first +to get the crowd out of the way. Several of the locals, including +the one with the staff, joined with them; this quick co-operation +delighted Meillard. When they had the lorry down and were all out +of it, the dignitary with the staff, his scarlet tablecloth over +his yellow robe, began an oration, apparently with every confidence +that he was being understood. In spite of his objections at lunch, +the telepathy theory was beginning to seem more persuasive. + +"Give them the Shooting of Dan McJabberwock again," he told +Meillard. "This is where we came in yesterday." + +Something Meillard had noticed was exciting him. "Wait a moment. +They're going to do something." + +They were indeed. The one with the staff and three of his henchmen +advanced. The staff bearer touched himself on the brow. "_Fwoonk_," +he said. Then he pointed to Meillard. "_Hoonkle_," he said. + +"They got it!" Lillian was hugging herself joyfully. "I knew they +ought to!" + +Meillard indicated himself and said, "_Fwoonk_." + +That wasn't right. The village elder immediately corrected him. +The word, it seemed, was, "_Fwoonk_." + +His three companions agreed that that was the word for self, +but that was as far as the agreement went. They rendered it, +respectively, as "_Pwink_," "_Tweelt_" and "_Kroosh_." + +Gofredo gave a barking laugh. He was right; anything that could go +wrong would go wrong. Lillian used a word; it was not a ladylike +word at all. The Svants looked at them as though wondering what +could possibly be the matter. Then they went into a huddle, arguing +vehemently. The argument spread, like a ripple in a pool; soon +everybody was twittering vocally or blowing on flutes and Panpipes. +Then the big horn started blaring. Immediately, Gofredo snatched the +hand-phone of his belt radio and began speaking urgently into it. + +"What are you doing, Luis?" Meillard asked anxiously. + +"Calling the reserve in. I'm not taking chances on this." He spoke +again into the phone, then called over his shoulder: "Rienet; three +one-second bursts, in the air!" + +A Marine pointed a submachine gun skyward and ripped off a string of +shots, then another, and another. There was silence after the first +burst. Then a frightful howling arose. + +"Luis, you imbecile!" Meillard was shouting. + +Gofredo jumped onto the top of an airjeep, where they could all +see him; drawing his pistol, he fired twice into the air. + +"Be quiet, all of you!" he shouted, as though that would do any good. + +It did. Silence fell, bounced noisily, and then settled over the +crowd. Gofredo went on talking to them: "Take it easy, now; easy." +He might have been speaking to a frightened dog or a fractious +horse. "Nobody's going to hurt you. This is nothing but the great +noise-magic of the Terrans...." + +"Get the presents unloaded," Meillard was saying. "Make a big show +of it. The table first." + +The horn, which had started, stopped blowing. As they were getting +off the long table and piling it with trade goods, another lorry +came in, disgorging twenty Marine riflemen. They had their bayonets +fixed; the natives looked apprehensively at the bare steel, but +went on listening to Gofredo. Meillard pulled the (Lord Mayor? +Archbishop? Lord of the Manor?) aside, and began making sign-talk +to him. + +When quiet was restored, Howell put a pick and shovel into a +wheelbarrow and pushed them out into the space that had been cleared +in front of the table. He swung the pick for a while, then shoveled +the barrow full of ground. After pushing it around for a while, he +dumped it back in the hole and leveled it off. Two Marines brought +out an eight-inch log and chopped a couple of billets off it with +an ax, then cut off another with one of the saws, split them up, +and filled the wheelbarrow with the firewood. + +[Illustration: _We can't use the computer till we can tell it what +the data is data about!_] + +The knives, jewelry and other small items would be no problem; they +had enough of them to go around. The other stuff would be harder to +distribute, and Paul Meillard and Karl Dorver were arguing about how +to handle it. If they weren't careful, a lot of new bowie knives +would get bloodied. + +"Have them form a queue," Anna suggested. "That will give them the +idea of equal sharing, and we'll be able to learn something about +their status levels and social hierarchy and agonistic relations." + + * * * * * + +The one with the staff took it as a matter of course that he would +go first; his associates began falling in behind him, and the rest +of the villagers behind them. Whether they'd gotten one the day +before or not, everybody was given a knife and a bandanna and one +piece of flashy junk-jewelry, also a stainless steel cup and mess +plate, a bucket, and an empty bottle with a cork. The women didn't +carry sheath knives, so they got Boy Scout knives on lanyards. They +were all lavishly supplied with Extee Three and candy. Any of the +children who looked big enough to be trusted with them got knives +too, and plenty of candy. + +Anna and Karl were standing where the queue was forming, watching +how they fell into line; so was Lillian, with an audiovisual camera. +Having seen that the Marine enlisted men were getting the presents +handed out properly, Howell strolled over to them. Just as he came +up, a couple approached hesitantly, a man in a breechclout under a +leather apron, and a woman, much smaller, in a ragged and soiled +tunic. As soon as they fell into line, another Svant, in a blue +robe, pushed them aside and took their place. + +"Here, you can't do that!" Lillian cried. "Karl, make him step back." + +Karl was saying something about social status and precedence. The +couple tried to get into line behind the man who had pushed them +aside. Another villager tried to shove them out of his way. Howell +advanced, his right fist closing. Then he remembered that he didn't +know what he'd be punching; he might break the fellow's neck, or +his own knuckles. He grabbed the blue-robed Svant by the wrist with +both hands, kicked a foot out from under him, and jerked, sending +him flying for six feet and then sliding in the dust for another +couple of yards. He pushed the others back, and put the couple +into place in the line. + +"Mark, you shouldn't have done that," Dorver was expostulating. +"We don't know...." + +The Svant sat up, shaking his head groggily. Then he realized what +had been done to him. With a snarl of rage, he was on his feet, his +knife in his hand. It was a Terran bowie knife. Without conscious +volition, Howell's pistol was out and he was thumbing the safety off. + +The Svant stopped short, then dropped the knife, ducked his head, +and threw his arms over it to shield his comb. He backed away a few +steps, then turned and bolted into the nearest house. The others, +including the woman in the ragged tunic, were twittering in alarm. +Only the man in the leather apron was calm; he was saying, +tonelessly, "_Ghrooogh-ghrooogh_." + +Luis Gofredo was coming up on the double, followed by three of +his riflemen. + +"What happened, Mark? Trouble?" + +"All over now." He told Gofredo what had happened. Dorver was still +objecting: + +"... Social precedence; the Svant may have been right, according +to local customs." + +"Local customs be damned!" Gofredo became angry. "This is a Terran +Federation handout; we make the rules, and one of them is, no +pushing people out of line. Teach the buggers that now and we won't +have to work so hard at it later." He called back over his shoulder, +"Situation under control; get the show going again." + +The natives were all grimacing heartbrokenly with pleasure. Maybe +the one who got thrown on his ear--no, he didn't have any--was not +one of the more popular characters in the village. + +"You just pulled your gun, and he dropped the knife and ran?" +Gofredo asked. "And the others were scared, too?" + +"That's right. They all saw you fire yours; the noise scared them." + +Gofredo nodded. "We'll avoid promiscuous shooting, then. No use +letting them find out the noise won't hurt them any sooner than +we have to." + +Paul Meillard had worked out a way to distribute the picks and +shovels and axes. Considering each house as representing a family +unit, which might or might not be the case, there were picks and +shovels enough to go around, and an ax for every third house. They +took them around in an airjeep and left them at the doors. The +houses, he found, weren't adobe at all. They were built of logs, +plastered with adobe on the outside. That demolished his theory +that the houses were torn down periodically, and left the mound +itself unexplained. + +The wheelbarrows and the grindstone and the two crosscut saws +were another matter. Nobody was quite sure that the (nobility? +capitalist-class? politicians? prominent citizens?) wouldn't simply +appropriate them for themselves. Paul Meillard was worried about +that; everybody else was willing to let matters take their course. +Before they were off the ground in their vehicles, a violent dispute +had begun, with a bedlam of jabbering and shrieking. By the time +they were landing at the camp, the big laminated leather horn had +begun to bellow. + + * * * * * + +One of the huts had been fitted as contact-team headquarters, with +all the view and communication screens installed, and one end +partitioned off and soundproofed for Lillian to study recordings in. +It was cocktail time when they returned; conversationally, it was a +continuation from lunch. Karl Dorver was even more convinced than +ever of his telepathic hypothesis, and he had completely converted +Anna de Jong to it. + +"Look at that." He pointed at the snooper screen, which gave a view +of the plaza from directly above. "They're reaching an agreement +already." + +So they seemed to be, though upon what was less apparent. The horn +had stopped, and the noise was diminishing. The odd thing was that +peace was being restored, or was restoring itself, as the uproar had +begun--outwardly from the center of the plaza to the periphery of +the crowd. The same thing had happened when Gofredo had ordered the +submachine gun fired, and, now that he recalled, when he had dealt +with the line-crasher. + +"Suppose a few of them, in the middle, are agreed," Anna said. +"They are all thinking in unison, combining their telepathic +powers. They dominate those nearest to them, who join and amplify +their telepathic signal, and it spreads out through the whole +group. A mental chain-reaction." + +"That would explain the mechanism of community leadership, and I'd +been wondering about that," Dorver said, becoming more excited. +"It's a mental aristocracy; an especially gifted group of telepaths, +in agreement and using their powers in concert, implanting their +opinions in the minds of all the others. I'll bet the purpose of the +horn is to distract the thoughts of the others, so that they can be +more easily dominated. And the noise of the shots shocked them out +of communication with each other; no wonder they were frightened." + +Bennet Fayon was far from convinced. "So far, this telepathy theory +is only an assumption. I find it a lot easier to assume some +fundamental difference between the way they translate sound into +sense-data and the way we do. We _think_ those combs on top of their +heads are their external hearing organs, but we have no idea what's +back of them, or what kind of a neural hookup is connected to them. +I wish I knew how these people dispose of their dead. I need a +couple of fresh cadavers. Too bad they aren't warlike. Nothing like +a good bloody battle to advance the science of anatomy, and what we +don't know about Svant anatomy is practically the entire subject." + +"I should imagine the animals hear in the same way," Meillard said. +"When the wagon wheels and the hoes and the blacksmith tools come +down from the ship, we'll trade for cattle." + +"When they make the second landing in the mountains, I'm going to do +a lot of hunting," Loughran added. "I'll get wild animals for you." + +"Well, I'm going to assume that the vocal noises they make are +meaningful speech," Lillian Ransby said. "So far, I've just been +trying to analyze them for phonetic values. Now I'm going to analyze +them for sound-wave patterns. No matter what goes on inside their +private nervous systems, the sounds exist as waves in the public +atmosphere. I'm going to assume that the Lord Mayor and his stooges +were all trying to say the same thing when they were pointing to +themselves, and I'm going to see if all four of those sounds have +any common characteristic." + +By the time dinner was over, they were all talking in circles, none +of them hopefully. They all made recordings of the speech about the +slithy toves in the Malemute Saloon; Lillian wanted to find out what +was different about them. Luis Gofredo saw to it that the camp +itself would be visible-lighted, and beyond the lights he set up +more photoelectric robot sentries and put a couple of snoopers to +circling on contragravity, with infra-red lights and receptors. He +also insisted that all his own men and all Dave Questell's Navy +construction engineers keep their weapons ready to hand. The natives +in the village were equally distrustful. They didn't herd the cattle +up from the meadows where they had been pastured, but they lighted +watch-fires along the edge of the mound as soon as it became dark. + + * * * * * + +It was three hours after nightfall when something on the +indicator-board for the robot sentries went off like a startled +rattlesnake. Everybody, talking idly or concentrating on writing up +the day's observations, stiffened. Luis Gofredo, dozing in a chair, +was on his feet instantly and crossing the hut to the instruments. +His second-in-command, who had been playing chess with Willi +Schallenmacher, rose and snatched his belt from the back of his +chair, putting it on. + +"Take it easy," Gofredo said. "Probably just a cow or a horse--local +equivalent--that's strayed over from the other side." + +He sat down in front of one of the snooper screens and twisted knobs +on the remote controls. The monochrome view, transformed from infra +red, rotated as the snooper circled and changed course. The other +screen showed the camp receding and the area around it widening as +its snooper gained altitude. + +"It's not a big party," Gofredo was saying. "I can't see--Oh, +yes I can. Only two of them." + +The humanoid figures, one larger than the other, were moving +cautiously across the fields, crouching low. The snooper went down +toward them, and then he recognized them. The man and woman whom +the blue-robed villager had tried to shove out of the queue, that +afternoon. Gofredo recognized them, too. + +"Your friends, Mark. Harry," he told his subordinate, "go out and +pass the word around. Only two, and we think they're friendly. Keep +everybody out of sight; we don't want to scare them away." + +The snooper followed closely behind them. The man was no longer +wearing his apron; the woman's tunic was even more tattered and +soiled. She was leading him by the hand. Now and then, she would +stop and turn her head to the rear. The snooper over the mound +showed nothing but half a dozen fire-watchers dozing by their fires. +Then the pair were at the edge of the camp lights. As they advanced, +they seemed to realize that they had passed a point-of-no-return. +They straightened and came forward steadily, the woman seeming +to be guiding her companion. + +"What's happening, Mark?" + +It was Lillian; she must have just come out of the soundproof +speech-lab. + +"You know them; the pair in the queue, this afternoon. I think +we've annexed a couple of friendly natives." + +They all went outside. The two natives, having come into the camp, +had stopped. For a moment, the man in the breechclout seemed undecided +whether he was more afraid to turn and run than advance. The woman, +holding his hand, led him forward. They were both bruised, and both +had minor cuts, and neither of them had any of the things that had +been given to them that afternoon. + +"Rest of the gang beat them up and robbed them," Gofredo began angrily. + +"See what you did?" Dorver began. "According to their own customs, +they had no right to be ahead of those others, and now you've gotten +them punished for it." + +"I'd have done more to that fellow then Mark did, if I'd been there +when it happened." The Marine officer turned to Meillard. "Look, +this is your show, Paul; how you run it is your job. But in your +place, I'd take that pair back to the village and have them point +out who beat them up, and teach the whole gang of them a lesson. +If you're going to colonize this planet, you're going to have to +establish Federation law, and Federation law says you mustn't gang +up on people and beat and rob them. We don't have to speak Svantese +to make them understand what we'll put up with and what we won't." + +"Later, Luis. After we've gotten a treaty with somebody." Meillard +broke off. "Watch this!" + +The woman was making sign-talk. She pointed to the village on the +mound. Then, with her hands, she shaped a bucket like the ones that +had been given to them, and made a snatching gesture away from +herself. She indicated the neckcloths, and the sheath knife and the +other things, and snatched them away too. She made beating motions, +and touched her bruises and the man's. All the time, she was talking +excitedly, in a high, shrill voice. The man made the same +_ghroogh-ghroogh_ noises that he had that afternoon. + +"No; we can't take any punitive action. Not now," Meillard said. +"But we'll have to do something for them." + +Vengeance, it seemed, wasn't what they wanted. The woman made +vehement gestures of rejection toward the village, then bowed, +placing her hands on her brow. The man imitated her obeisance, then +they both straightened. The woman pointed to herself and to the man, +and around the circle of huts and landing craft. She began scuttling +about, picking up imaginary litter and sweeping with an imaginary +broom. The man started pounding with an imaginary hammer, then +chopping with an imaginary ax. + +Lillian was clapping her hands softly. "Good; got it the first time. +'You let us stay; we work for you.' How about it, Paul?" + +Meillard nodded. "Punitive action's unadvisable, but we will show +our attitude by taking them in. You tell them, Luis; these people +seem to like your voice." + +Gofredo put a hand on each of their shoulders. "You ... stay ... +with us." He pointed around the camp. "You ... stay ... this ... +place." + +Their faces broke into that funny just-before-tears expression that +meant happiness with them. The man confined his vocal expressions to +his odd _ghroogh-ghroogh_-ing; the woman twittered joyfully. Gofredo +put a hand on the woman's shoulder, pointed to the man and from him +back to her. "Unh?" he inquired. + +The woman put a hand on the man's head, then brought it down to +within a foot of the ground. She picked up the imaginary infant +and rocked it in her arms, then set it down and grew it up until +she had her hand on the top of the man's head again. + +"That was good, Mom," Gofredo told her. "Now, you and Sonny come +along; we'll issue you equipment and find you billets." He added, +"What in blazes are we going to feed them; Extee Three?" + + * * * * * + +They gave them replacements for all the things that had been taken +away from them. They gave the man a one-piece suit of Marine combat +coveralls; Lillian gave the woman a lavender bathrobe, and Anna +contributed a red scarf. They found them quarters in one end of a +store shed, after making sure that there was nothing they could get +at that would hurt them or that they could damage. They gave each of +them a pair of blankets and a pneumatic mattress, which delighted +them, although the cots puzzled them at first. + +"What do you think about feeding them, Bennet?" Meillard asked, +when the two Svants had gone to bed and they were back in the +headquarters hut. "You said the food on this planet is safe +for Terrans." + +"So I did, and it is, but the rule's not reversible. Things we eat +might kill them," Fayon said. "Meats will be especially dangerous. +And no caffeine, and no alcohol." + +"Alcohol won't hurt them," Schallenmacher said. "I saw big jars full +of fermenting fruit-mash back of some of those houses; in about a +year, it ought to be fairly good wine. C_{2}H_{5}OH is the same on +any planet." + +"Well, we'll get native foodstuffs tomorrow," Meillard said. +"We'll have to do that by signs, too," he regretted. + +"Get Mom to help you; she's pretty sharp," Lillian advised. +"But I think Sonny's the village half-wit." + +Anna de Jong agreed. "Even if we don't understand Svant psychology, +that's evident; he's definitely subnormal. The way he clings to his +mother for guidance is absolutely pathetic. He's a mature adult, +but mentally he's still a little child." + +"That may explain it!" Dorver cried. "A mental defective, in a +community of telepaths, constantly invading the minds of others +with irrational and disgusting thoughts; no wonder he is rejected +and persecuted. And in a community on this culture level, the mother +of an abnormal child is often regarded with superstitious +detestation--" + +[Illustration] + +"Yes, of course!" Anna de Jong instantly agreed, and began to go +into the villagers' hostility to both mother and son; both of them +were now taking the telepathy hypothesis for granted. + +Well, maybe so. He turned to Lillian. + +"What did you find out?" + +"Well, there is a common characteristic in all four sounds. A +little patch on the screen at seventeen-twenty cycles. The odd +thing is that when I try to repeat the sound, it isn't there." + +Odd indeed. If a Svant said something, he made sound waves; if she +imitated the sound, she ought to imitate the wave pattern. He said +so, and she agreed. + +"But come back here and look at this," she invited. + +She had been using a visibilizing analyzer; in it, a sound was broken +by a set of filters into frequency-groups, translated into light +from dull red to violet paling into pure white. It photographed the +light-pattern on high-speed film, automatically developed it, and +then made a print-copy and projected the film in slow motion on a +screen. When she pressed a button, a recorded voice said, "_Fwoonk_." +An instant later, a pattern of vertical lines in various colors and +lengths was projected on the screen. + +"Those green lines," she said. "That's it. Now, watch this." + +She pressed another button, got the photoprint out of a slot, and +propped it beside the screen. Then she picked up a hand-phone and +said, "_Fwoonk_," into it. It sounded like the first one, but the +pattern that danced onto the screen was quite different. Where the +green had been, there was a patch of pale-blue lines. She ran the +other three Svants' voices, each saying, presumably, "Me." Some were +mainly up in blue, others had a good deal of yellow and orange, but +they all had the little patch of green lines. + +"Well, that seems to be the information," he said. "The rest is +just noise." + +"Maybe one of them is saying, 'John Doe, _me_, son of Joe Blow,' +and another is saying, 'Tough guy, _me_; lick anybody in town.'" + +"All in one syllable?" Then he shrugged. How did he know what these +people could pack into one syllable? He picked up the hand-phone and +said, "Fwoonk," into it. The pattern, a little deeper in color and +with longer lines, was recognizably like hers, and unlike any of +the Svants'. + + * * * * * + +The others came in, singly and in pairs and threes. They watched +the colors dance on the screen to picture the four Svant words +which might or might not all mean _me_. They tried to duplicate +them. Luis Gofredo and Willi Schallenmacher came closest of anybody. +Bennet Fayon was still insisting that the Svants had a perfectly +comprehensible language--to other Svants. Anna de Jong had started to +veer a little away from the Dorver Hypothesis. There was a difference +between event-level sound, which was a series of waves of alternately +crowded and rarefied molecules of air, and object-level sound, which +was an auditory sensation inside the nervous system, she admitted. +That, Fayon crowed, was what he'd been saying all along; their +auditory system was probably such that _fwoonk_ and _pwink_ and +_tweelt_ and _kroosh_ all sounded alike to them. + +By this time, _fwoonk_ and _pwink_ and _tweelt_ and _kroosh_ had +become swear words among the joint Space Navy-Colonial Office +contact team. + +"Well, if I hear the two sounds alike, why doesn't the analyzer hear +them alike?" Karl Dorver demanded. + +"It has better ears than you do, Karl. Look how many different +frequencies there are in that word, all crowding up behind each +other," Lillian said. "But it isn't sensitive or selective enough. +I'm going to see what Ayesha Keithley can do about building me +a better one." + +Ayesha was signals and detection officer on the _Hubert Penrose_. +Dave Questell mentioned that she'd had a hard day, and was probably +making sack-time, and she wouldn't welcome being called at 0130. +Nobody seemed to have realized that it had gotten that late. + +"Well, I'll call the ship and have a recording made for her for when +she gets up. But till we get something that'll sort this mess out +and make sense of it, I'm stopped." + +"You're stopped, period, Lillian," Dorver told her. "What these +people gibber at us doesn't even make as much sense as the Shooting +of Dan McJabberwock. The real information is conveyed by telepathy." + + * * * * * + +Lieutenant j.g. Ayesha Keithley was on the screen the next morning +while they were eating breakfast. She was a blonde, like Lillian. + +"I got your message; you seem to have problems, don't you?" + +"Speaking conservatively, yes. You see what we're up against?" + +"You don't know what their vocal organs are like, do you?" the girl +in naval uniform in the screen asked. + +Lillian shook her head. "Bennet Fayon's hoping for a war, or an +epidemic, or something to break out, so that he can get a few +cadavers to dissect." + +"Well, he'll find that they're pretty complex," Ayesha Keithley +said. "I identified stick-and-slip sounds and percussion sounds, +and plucked-string sounds, along with the ordinary hiss-and-buzz +speech-sounds. Making a vocoder to reproduce that speech is going +to be fun. Just what are you using, in the way of equipment?" + +Lillian was still talking about that when the two landing craft +from the ship were sighted, coming down. Charley Loughran and Willi +Schallenmacher, who were returning to the _Hubert Penrose_ to join +the other landing party, began assembling their luggage. The others +went outside, Howell among them. + +Mom and Sonny were watching the two craft grow larger and closer +above, keeping close to a group of spacemen; Sonny was looking around +excitedly, while Mom clung to his arm, like a hen with an oversized +chick. The reasoning was clear--these people knew all about big things +that came down out of the sky and weren't afraid of them; stick close +to them, and it would be perfectly safe. Sonny saw the contact team +emerging from their hut and grabbed his mother's arm, pointing. They +both beamed happily; that expression didn't look sad, at all, now that +you knew what it meant. Sonny began ghroogh-ghrooghing hideously; Mom +hushed him with a hand over his mouth, and they both made eating +gestures, rubbed their abdomens comfortably, and pointed toward the +mess hut. Bennet Fayon was frightened. He turned and started on the +double toward the cook, who was standing in the doorway of the hut, +calling out to him. + +The cook spoke inaudibly. Fayon stopped short. "Unholy Saint Beelzebub, +no!" he cried. The cook said something in reply, shrugging. Fayon came +back, talking to himself. + +"Terran carniculture pork," he said, when he returned. "Zarathustra +pool-ball fruit. Potato-flour hotcakes, with Baldur honey and Odin +flameberry jam. And two big cups of coffee apiece. It's a miracle +they aren't dead now. If they're alive for lunch, we won't need to +worry about feeding them anything we eat, but I'm glad somebody else +has the moral responsibility for this." + +Lillian Ransby came out of the headquarters hut. "Ayesha's coming +down this afternoon, with a lot of equipment," she said. "We're +not exactly going to count air molecules in the sound waves, but +we'll do everything short of that. We'll need more lab space, +soundproofed." + +"Tell Dave Questell what you want," Meillard said. "Do you really +think you can get anything?" + +She shrugged. "If there's anything there to get. How long it'll +take is another question." + + * * * * * + +The two sixty-foot collapsium-armored turtles settled to the ground +and went off contragravity. The ports opened, and things began being +floated off on lifter-skids: framework for the water tower, and +curved titanium sheets for the tank. Anna de Jong said something +about hot showers, and not having to take any more sponge-baths. +Howell was watching the stuff come off the other landing craft. A +dozen pairs of four-foot wagon wheels, with axles. Hoes, in bundles. +Scythe blades. A hand forge, with a crank-driven fan blower, and a +hundred and fifty pound anvil, and sledges and cutters and swages +and tongs. + +Everybody was busy, and Mom and Sonny were fidgeting, gesturing +toward the work with their own empty hands. _Hey, boss; whatta +we gonna do?_ He patted them on the shoulders. + +"Take it easy." He hoped his tone would convey nonurgency. +"We'll find something for you to do." + +He wasn't particularly happy about most of what was coming off. +Giving these Svants tools was fine, but it was more important to +give them technologies. The people on the ship hadn't thought of +that. These wheels, now; machined steel hubs, steel rims, tubular +steel spokes, drop-forged and machined axles. The Svants wouldn't +be able to copy them in a thousand years. Well, in a hundred, if +somebody showed them where and how to mine iron and how to smelt +and work it. And how to build a steam engine. + +He went over and pulled a hoe out of one of the bundles. Blades +stamped out with a power press, welded to tubular steel handles. +Well, wood for hoe handles was hard to come by on a spaceship, even +a battle cruiser almost half a mile in diameter; he had to admit +that. And they were about two thousand per cent more efficient than +the bronze scrapers the Svants used. That wasn't the idea, though. +Even supposing that the first wave of colonists came out in a year +and a half, it would be close to twenty years before Terran-operated +factories would be in mass production for the native trade. The idea +was to teach these people to make better things for themselves; give +them a leg up, so that the next generation would be ready for +contragravity and nuclear and electric power. + +Mom didn't know what to make of any of it. Sonny did, though; he +was excited, grabbing Howell's arm, pointing, saying, "_Ghroogh_! +_Ghroogh_!" He pointed at the wheels, and then made a stooping, +lifting and pushing gesture. _Like wheelbarrow?_ + +"That's right." He nodded, wondering if Sonny recognized that as +an affirmative sign. "Like big wheelbarrow." + +One thing puzzled Sonny, though. Wheelbarrow wheels were small--his +hands indicated the size--and single. These were big, and double. + +"Let me show you this, Sonny." + +He squatted, took a pad and pencil from his pocket, and drew two +pairs of wheels, and then put a wagon on them, and drew a quadruped +hitched to it, and a Svant with a stick walking beside it. Sonny +looked at the picture--Svants seemed to have pictoral sense, for +which make us thankful!--and then caught his mother's sleeve and +showed it to her. Mom didn't get it. Sonny took the pencil and +drew another animal, with a pole travois. He made gestures. A +travois dragged; it went slow. A wagon had wheels that went +around; it went fast. + +So Lillian and Anna thought he was the village half-wit. Village +genius, more likely; the other peasants didn't understand him, and +resented his superiority. They went over for a closer look at the +wheels, and pushed them. Sonny was almost beside himself. Mom was +puzzled, but she thought they were pretty wonderful. + +Then they looked at blacksmith tools. Tongs; Sonny had never seen +anything like them. Howell wondered what the Svants used to handle +hot metal; probably big tweezers made by tying two green sticks +together. There was an old Arabian legend that Allah had made the +first tongs and given them to the first smith, because nobody could +make tongs without having a pair already. + +Sonny didn't understand the fan-blower until it was taken apart. +Then he made a great discovery. The wheels, and the fan, and the +pivoted tongs, all embodied the same principle, one his people +had evidently never discovered. A whole new world seemed to open +before him; from then on, he was constantly finding things pierced +and rotating on pivots. + + * * * * * + +By this time, Mom was fidgeting again. She ought to be doing +something to justify her presence in the camp. He was wondering +what sort of work he could invent for her when Karl Dorver called +to him from the door of the headquarters hut. + +"Mark, can you spare Mom for a while?" he asked. "We want her to +look at pictures and show us which of the animals are meat-cattle, +and which of the crops are ripe." + +"Think you can get anything out of her?" + +"Sign-talk, yes. We may get a few words from her, too." + +At first, Mom was unwilling to leave Sonny. She finally decided that +it would be safe, and trotted over to Dorver, entering the hut. + +Dave Questell's construction crew began at once on the water tank, +using a power shovel to dig the foundation. They had to haul water +in a tank from the river a quarter-mile away to mix the concrete. +Sonny watched that interestedly. So did a number of the villagers, +who gathered safely out of bowshot. They noticed Sonny among the +Terrans and pointed at him. Sonny noticed that. He unobtrusively +picked up a double-bitted ax and kept it to hand. + +He and Mom had lunch with the contact team. As they showed no ill +effects from breakfast, Fayon decided that it was safe to let them +have anything the Terrans ate or drank. They liked wine; they knew +what it was, all right, but this seemed to have a delightfully +different flavor. They each tried a cigarette, choked over the +first few puffs, and decided that they didn't like smoking. + +"Mom gave us a lot of information, as far as she could, on the crops +and animals. The big things, the size of rhinoceroses, are draft +animals and nothing else; they're not eaten," Dorver said. "I don't +know whether the meat isn't good, or is taboo, or they are too +valuable to eat. They eat all the other three species, and milk two +of them. I have an idea they grind their grain in big stone mortars +as needed." + +That was right; he'd seen things like that. + +"Willi, when you're over in the mountains, see if you can find +something we can make millstones out of. We can shape them with +sono-cutters; after they get the idea, they can do it themselves +by hand. One of those big animals could be used to turn the mill. +Did you get any words from her?" + +Paul Meillard shook his head gloomily. "Nothing we can be sure of. +It was the same thing as in the village, yesterday. She'd say +something, I'd repeat it, and she'd tell us it was wrong and say +the same thing over again. Lillian took recordings; she got the +same results as last night. Ask her about it later." + +"She has the same effect on Mom as on the others?" + +"Yes. Mom was very polite and tried not to show it, but--" + +Lillian took him aside, out of earshot of the two Svants, after +lunch. She was almost distracted. + +"Mark, I don't know what I'm going to do. She's like the others. +Every time I open my mouth in front of her, she's simply horrified. +It's as though my voice does something loathsome to her. And I'm the +one who's supposed to learn to talk to them." + +"Well, those who can do, and those who can't teach," he told her. +"You can study recordings, and tell us what the words are and +teach us how to recognize and pronounce them. You're the only +linguist we have." + +That seemed to comfort her a little. He hoped it would work out that +way. If they could communicate with these people and did leave a +party here to prepare for the first colonization, he'd stay on, to +teach the natives Terran technologies and study theirs. He'd been +expecting that Lillian would stay, too. She was the linguist; she'd +have to stay. But now, if it turned out that she would be no help but +a liability, she'd go back with the _Hubert Penrose_. Paul wouldn't +keep a linguist who offended the natives' every sensibility with +every word she spoke. He didn't want that to happen. Lillian and he +had come to mean a little too much to each other to be parted now. + + * * * * * + +Paul Meillard and Karl Dorver had considerable difficulty with Mom, +that afternoon. They wanted her to go with them and help trade for +cattle. Mom didn't want to; she was afraid. They had to do a lot of +play-acting, with half a dozen Marines pretending to guard her with +fixed bayonets from some of Dave Questell's Navy construction men +who had red bandannas on their heads to simulate combs before she +got the idea. Then she was afraid to get into the contragravity +lorry that was to carry the hoes and the wagon wheels. Sonny managed +to reassure her, and insisted on going along, and he insisted on +taking his ax with him. That meant doubling the guard, to make sure +Sonny didn't lose his self-control when he saw his former +persecutors within chopping distance. + +It went off much better than either Paul Meillard or Luis Gofredo +expected. After the first shock of being air-borne had worn off, +Mom found that she liked contragravity-riding; Sonny was wildly +delighted with it from the start. The natives showed neither of them +any hostility. Mom's lavender bathrobe and Sonny's green coveralls +and big ax seemed to be symbols of a new and exalted status; even +the Lord Mayor was extremely polite to them. + +The Lord Mayor and half a dozen others got a contragravity ride, +too, to the meadows to pick out cattle. A dozen animals, including +a pair of the two-ton draft beasts, were driven to the Terran camp. +A couple of lorry-loads of assorted vegetables were brought in, too. +Everybody seemed very happy about the deal, especially Bennet Fayon. +He wanted to slaughter one of the sheep-sized meat-and-milk animals +at once and get to work on it. Gofredo advised him to put it off +till the next morning. He wanted a large native audience to see +the animal being shot with a rifle. + +The water tower was finished, and the big spherical tank hoisted on +top of it and made fast. A pump, and a filter-system were installed. +There was no water for hot showers that evening, though. They would +have to run a pipeline to the river, and that would entail a ditch +that would cut through several cultivated fields, which, in turn, +would provoke an uproar. Paul Meillard didn't want that happening +until he'd concluded the cattle-trade. + +Charley Loughran and Willi Schallenmacher had gone up to the ship on +one of the landing craft; they accompanied the landing party that went +down into the mountains. Ayesha Keithley arrived late in the afternoon +on another landing craft, with five or six tons of instruments and +parts and equipment, and a male Navy warrant-officer helper. + +They looked around the lab Lillian had been using at one end of +the headquarters hut. + +"This won't do," the girl Navy officer said. "We can't get a quarter +of the apparatus we're going to need in here. We'll have to build +something." + +Dave Questell was drawn into the discussion. Yes, he could put +up something big enough for everything the girls would need to +install, and soundproof it. Concrete, he decided; they'd have to +wait till he got the water line down and the pump going, though. + +There was a crowd of natives in the fields, gaping at the Terran +camp, the next morning, and Gofredo decided to kill the +animal--until they learned the native name, they were calling it +Domesticated Type C. It was herded out where everyone could watch, +and a Marine stepped forward unslung his rifle took a kneeling +position, and aimed at it. It was a hundred and fifty yards away. +Mom had come out to see what was going on; Sonny and Howell, who +had been consulting by signs over the construction of a wagon, were +standing side by side. The Marine squeezed his trigger. The rifle +banged, and the Domesticated-C bounded into the air, dropped, and +kicked a few times and was still. The natives, however, missed that +part of it; they were howling piteously and rubbing their heads. +All but Sonny. He was just mildly surprised at what had happened +to the Dom.-C. + +Sonny, it would appear, was stone deaf. + + * * * * * + +As anticipated, there was another uproar later in the morning when +the ditching machine started north across the meadow. A mob of +Svants, seeing its relentless progress toward a field of something +like turnips, gathered in front of it, twittering and brandishing +implements of agriculture, many of them Terran-made. + +Paul Meillard was ready for this. Two lorries went out; one loaded +with Marines, who jumped off with their rifles ready. By this +time, all the Svants knew what rifles would do beside make a +noise. Meillard, Dorver, Gofredo and a few others got out of the +other vehicle, and unloaded presents. Gofredo did all the talking. +The Svants couldn't understand him, but they liked it. They also +liked the presents, which included a dozen empty half-gallon rum +demijohns, tarpaulins, and a lot of assorted knickknacks. The +pipeline went through. + +He and Sonny got the forge set up. There was no fuel for it. +A party of Marines had gone out to the woods to the east to cut +wood; when they got back, they'd burn some charcoal in the pit +that had been dug beside the camp. Until then, he and Sonny were +drawing plans for a wooden wheel with a metal tire when Lillian +came out of the headquarters hut with a clipboard under her arm. +She motioned to him. + +"Come on over," he told her. "You can talk in front of Sonny; +he won't mind. He can't hear." + +"Can't hear?" she echoed. "You mean--?" + +"That's right. Sonny's stone deaf. He didn't even hear that rifle +going off. The only one of this gang that has brains enough to pour +sand out of a boot with directions on the bottom of the heel, and +he's a total linguistic loss." + +"So he isn't a half-wit, after all." + +"He's got an IQ close to genius level. Look at this; he never saw +a wheel before yesterday; now he's designing one." + +[Illustration: _It's killing us it's so nice...._] + +Lillian's eyes widened. "So that's why Mom's so sharp about +sign-talk. She's been doing it all his life." Then she remembered +what she had come out to show him, and held out the clipboard. "You +know how that analyzer of mine works? Well, here's what Ayesha's +going to do. After breaking a sound into frequency bands instead of +being photographed and projected, each band goes to an analyzer of +its own, and is projected on its own screen. There'll be forty of +them, each for a band of a hundred cycles, from zero to four +thousand. That seems to be the Svant vocal range." + +The diagram passed from hand to hand during cocktail time, before +dinner. Bennet Fayon had been working all day dissecting the animal +they were all calling a _domsee_, a name which would stick even if +and when they learned the native name. He glanced disinterestedly at +the drawing, then looked again, more closely. Then he set down the +drink he was holding in his other hand and studied it intently. + +"You know what you have here?" he asked. "This is a very close analogy +to the hearing organs of that animal I was working on. The comb, as +we've assumed, is the external organ. It's covered with small flaps +and fissures. Back of each fissure is a long, narrow membrane; they're +paired, one on each side of the comb, and from them nerves lead to +clusters of small round membranes. Nerves lead from them to a complex +nerve-cable at the bottom of the comb and into the brain at the base +of the skull. I couldn't understand how the system functioned, but now +I see it. Each of the larger membranes on the outside responds to a +sound-frequency band, and the small ones on the inside break the bands +down to individual frequencies." + +"How many of the little ones are there?" Ayesha asked. + +"Thousands of them; the inner comb is simply packed with them. Wait; +I'll show you." + +He rose and went away, returning with a sheaf of photo-enlargements +and a number of blocks of lucite in which specimens were mounted. +Everybody examined them. Anna de Jong, as a practicing psychologist, +had an M.D. and to get that she'd had to know a modicum of anatomy; +she was puzzled. + +"I can't understand how they hear with those things. I'll grant +that the membranes will respond to sound, but I can't see how +they transmit it." + +"But they do hear," Meillard said. "Their musical instruments, +their reactions to our voices, the way they are affected by sounds +like gunfire--" + +"They hear, but they don't hear in the same way we do," Fayon replied. +"If you can't be convinced by anything else, look at these things, +and compare them with the structure of the human ear, or the ear +of any member of any other sapient race we're ever contacted. +That's what I've been saying from the beginning." + +"They have sound-perception to an extent that makes ours look +almost like deafness," Ayesha Keithley said. "I wish I could design +a sound-detector one-tenth as good as this must be." + +Yes. The way the Lord Mayor said _fwoonk_ and the way Paul Meillard +said it sounded entirely different to them. Of course, _fwoonk_ and +_pwink_ and _tweelt_ and _kroosh_ sounded alike to them, but let's +don't be too picky about things. + + * * * * * + +There were no hot showers that evening; Dave Questell's gang had +trouble with the pump and needed some new parts made up aboard the +ship. They were still working on it the next morning. He had meant +to start teaching Sonny blacksmithing, but during the evening +Lillian and Anna had decided to try teaching Mom a nonphonetic, +ideographic, alphabet, and in the morning they co-opted Sonny to +help. Deprived of his disciple, he strolled over to watch the work +on the pump. About twenty Svants had come in from the fields and +were also watching, from the meadow. + +After a while, the job was finished. The petty officer in charge +of the work pushed in the switch, and the pump started, sucking +dry with a harsh racket. The natives twittered in surprise. Then +the water came, and the pump settled down to a steady _thugg-thugg, +thugg-thugg_. + +The Svants seemed to like the new sound; they grimaced in pleasure +and moved closer; within forty or fifty feet, they all squatted on +the ground and sat entranced. Others came in from the fields, drawn +by the sound. They, too, came up and squatted, until there was a +semicircle of them. The tank took a long time to fill; until it did, +they all sat immobile and fascinated. Even after it stopped, many +remained, hoping that it would start again. Paul Meillard began +wondering, a trifle uneasily, if that would happen every time +the pump went on. + +"They get a positive pleasure from it. It affects them the same way +Luis' voice does." + +"Mean I have a voice like a pump?" Gofredo demanded. + +"Well, I'm going to find out," Ayesha Keithley said. "The next time +that starts, I'm going to make a recording, and compare it with your +voice-recording. I'll give five to one there'll be a similarity." + +Questell got the foundation for the sonics lab dug, and began +pouring concrete. That took water, and the pump ran continuously +that afternoon. Concrete-mixing took more water the next day, and +by noon the whole village population, down to the smallest child, +was massed at the pumphouse, enthralled. Mom was snared by the sound +like any of the rest; only Sonny was unaffected. Lillian and Ayesha +compared recordings of the voices of the team with the pump-sound; +in Gofredo's they found an identical frequency-pattern. + +"We'll need the new apparatus to be positive about it, but it's there, +all right," Ayesha said. "That's why Luis' voice pleases them." + +"That tags me; Old Pump-Mouth," Gofredo said. "It'll get all through +the Corps, and they'll be calling me that when I'm a four-star general, +if I live that long." + +Meillard was really worried, now. So was Bennet Fayon. He said so +that afternoon at cocktail time. + +"It's an addiction," he declared. "Once they hear it, they have no +will to resist; they just squat and listen. I don't know what it's +doing to them, but I'm scared of it." + +"I know one thing it's doing," Meillard said. "It's keeping them +from their work in the fields. For all we know, it may cause them +to lose a crop they need badly for subsistence." + + * * * * * + +The native they had come to call the Lord Mayor evidently thought +so, too. He was with the others, the next morning, squatting with +his staff across his knees, as bemused as any of them, but when the +pump stopped he rose and approached a group of Terrans, launching +into what could only be an impassioned tirade. He pointed with his +staff to the pump house, and to the semicircle of still motionless +villagers. He pointed to the fields, and back to the people, and to +the pump house again, gesturing vehemently with his other hand. + +_You make the noise. My people will not work while they hear it. +The fields lie untended. Stop the noise, and let my people work._ + +Couldn't possibly be any plainer. + +Then the pump started again. The Lord Mayor's hands tightened on the +staff; he was struggling tormentedly with himself, in vain. His face +relaxed into the heartbroken expression of joy; he turned and +shuffled over, dropping onto his haunches with the others. + +"Shut down the pump, Dave!" Meillard called out. "Cut the power off." + +The _thugg-thugg_-ing stopped. The Lord Mayor rose, made an odd +salaamlike bow toward the Terrans, and then turned on the people, +striking with his staff and shrieking at them. A few got to their +feet and joined him, screaming, pushing, tugging. Others joined. +In a little while, they were all on their feet, straggling away +across the fields. + +Dave Questell wanted to know what it meant; Meillard explained. + +"Well, what are we going to do for water?" the Navy engineer asked. + +"Soundproof the pump house. You can do that, can't you?" + +"Sure. Mound it over with earth. We'll have that done in a few hours." + +That started Gofredo worrying. "This happens every time we colonize +an inhabited planet. We give the natives something new. Then we find +out it's bad for them, and we try to take it away from them. And +then the knives come out, and the shooting starts." + +Luis Gofredo was also a specialist, speaking on his subject. + + * * * * * + +While they were at lunch, Charley Loughran screened in from +the other camp and wanted to talk to Bennet Fayon. + +"A funny thing, Bennet. I took a shot at a bird ... no, a flying +mammal ... and dropped it. It was dead when it hit the ground, +but there isn't a mark on it. I want you to do an autopsy, and +find out how I can kill things by missing them." + +"How far away was it?" + +"Call it forty feet; no more." + +"What were you using, Charley?" Ayesha Keithley called from the table. + +"Eight-point-five Mars-Consolidated pistol," Loughran said. "I'd +laid my shotgun down and walked away from it--" + +"Twelve hundred foot-seconds," Ayesha said. "Bow-wave as well as +muzzle-blast." + +"You think the report was what did it?" Fayon asked. + +"You want to bet it didn't?" she countered. + +Nobody did. + + * * * * * + +Mom was sulky. She didn't like what Dave Questell's men were doing +to the nice-noise-place. Ayesha and Lillian consoled her by taking +her into the soundproofed room and playing the recording of the +pump-noise for her. Sonny couldn't care less, one way or another; +he spent the afternoon teaching Mark Howell what the marks on paper +meant. It took a lot of signs and play-acting. He had learned about +thirty ideographs; by combining them and drawing little pictures, +he could express a number of simple ideas. There was, of course, +a limit to how many of those things anybody could learn and +remember--look how long it took an Old Terran Chinese scribe +to learn his profession--but it was the beginning of a method +of communication. + +Questell got the pump house mounded over. Ayesha came out and tried +a sound-meter, and also Mom, on it while the pump was running. +Neither reacted. + +A good many Svants were watching the work. They began to demonstrate +angrily. A couple tried to interfere and were knocked down with +rifle butts. The Lord Mayor and his Board of Aldermen came out with +the big horn and harangued them at length, and finally got them +to go back to the fields. As nearly as anybody could tell, he was +friendly to and co-operative with the Terrans. The snooper over +the village reported excitement in the plaza. + +Bennet Fayon had taken an airjeep to the other camp immediately +after lunch. He was back by 1500, accompanied by Loughran. They +carried a cloth-wrapped package into Fayon's dissecting-room. +At cocktail time, Paul Meillard had to go and get them. + +"Sorry," Fayon said, joining the group. "Didn't notice how late it +was getting. We're still doing a post on this svant-bat; that's what +Charley's calling it, till we get the native name. + +"The immediate cause of death was spasmodic contraction of every +muscle in the thing's body; some of them were partly relaxed before +we could get to work on it, but not completely. Every bone that +isn't broken is dislocated; a good many both. There is not the +slightest trace of external injury. Everything was done by its own +muscles." He looked around. "I hope nobody covered Ayesha's bet, +after I left. If they did, she collects. The large outer membranes +in the comb seem to be unaffected, but there is considerable +compression of the small round ones inside, in just one area, +and more on the left side than on the right. Charley says it +was flying across in front of him from left to right." + +"The receptor-area responding to the frequencies of the report," +Ayesha said. + +Anna de Jong made a passing gesture toward Fayon. "The baby's yours, +Bennet," she said. "This isn't psychological. I won't accept a case +of psychosomatic compound fracture." + +"Don't be too premature about it, Anna. I think that's more or less +what you have, here." + +Everybody looked at him, surprised. His subject was comparative +technology. The bio and psycho-sciences were completely outside +his field. + +"A lot of things have been bothering me, ever since the first +contact. I'm beginning to think I'm on the edge of understanding +them, now. Bennet, the higher life-forms here--the people, and that +domsee, and Charley's svant-bat--are structurally identical with us. +I don't mean gross structure, like ears and combs. I mean molecular +and cellular and tissue structure. Is that right?" + +Fayon nodded. "Biology on this planet is exactly Terra type. Yes. +With adequate safeguards, I'd even say you could make a viable +tissue-graft from a Svant to a Terran, or vice versa." + +"Ayesha, would the sound waves from that pistol-shot in any +conceivable way have the sort of physical effect we're considering?" + +"Absolutely not," she said, and Luis Gofredo said: "I've been shot +at and missed with pistols at closer range than that." + +"Then it was the effect on the animal's nervous system." + +Anna shrugged. "It's still Bennet's baby. I'm a psychologist, +not a neurologist." + +"What I've been saying, all along," Fayon reiterated complacently. +"Their hearing is different from ours. This proves it. + +"It proves that they don't hear at all." + +He had expected an explosion; he wasn't disappointed. They all +contradicted him, many derisively. Signal reactions. Only Paul +Meillard made the semantically appropriate response: + +"What do you mean, Mark?" + +"They don't _hear_ sound; they _feel_ it. You all saw what they have +inside their combs. Those things don't transmit sound like the ears +of any sound-sensitive life-form we've ever seen. They transform +sound waves into tactile sensations." + +Fayon cursed, slowly and luridly. Anna de Jong looked at him +wide-eyed. He finished his cocktail and poured another. In the +snooper screen, what looked like an indignation meeting was making +uproar in the village plaza. Gofredo cut the volume of the speaker +even lower. + +"That would explain a lot of things," Meillard said slowly. "How +hard it was for them to realize that we didn't understand when they +talked to us. A punch in the nose feels the same to anybody. They +thought they were giving us bodily feelings. They didn't know we +were insensible to them." + +"But they do ... they do have a language," Lillian faltered. +"They talk." + +"Not the way we understand it. If they want to say, 'Me,' it's +_tickle-pinch-rub_, even if it sounds like _fwoonk_ to us, when it +doesn't sound like _pwink_ or _tweelt_ or _kroosh_. The tactile +sensations, to a Svant, feel no more different than a massage by +four different hands. Analogous to a word pronounced by four +different voices, to us. They'll have a code for expressing meanings +in tactile sensation, just as we have a code for expressing meanings +in audible sound." + +"Except that when a Svant tells another, 'I am happy,' or 'I have a +stomach-ache,' he makes the other one feel that way too," Anna said. +"That would carry an awful lot more conviction. I don't imagine +symptom-swapping is popular among Svants. Karl! You were nearly +right, at that. This isn't telepathy, but it's a lot like it." + +"So it is," Dorver, who had been mourning his departed telepathy +theory, said brightly. "And look how it explains their society. +Peaceful, everybody in quick agreement--" He looked at the screen +and gulped. The Lord Mayor and his party had formed one clump, and +the opposition was grouped at the other side of the plaza; they were +screaming in unison at each other. "They make their decisions by +endurance; the party that can resist the feelings of the other +longest converts their opponents." + +"Pure democracy," Gofredo declared. "Rule by the party that can +make the most noise." + +"And I'll bet that when they're sick, they go around chanting, +'I am well; I feel just fine!'" Anna said. "Autosuggestion would +really work, here. Think of the feedback, too. One Svant has a feeling. +He verbalizes it, and the sound of his own voice re-enforces it in him. +It is induced in his hearers, and they verbalize it, re-enforcing it +in themselves and in him. This could go on and on." + +"Yes. It has. Look at their technology." He felt more comfortable, +now he was on home ground again. "A friend of mine, speaking about +a mutual acquaintance, once said, 'When they installed her circuits, +they put in such big feeling circuits that there was no room left +for any thinking circuits.' I think that's a perfect description of +what I estimate Svant mentality to be. Take these bronze knives, and +the musical instruments. Wonderful; the work of individuals trying +to express feeling in metal or wood. But get an idea like the wheel, +or even a pair of tongs? Poo! How would you state the First Law of +Motion, or the Second Law of Thermodynamics, in tickle-pinch-rub +terms? Sonny could grasp an idea like that. Sonny's handicap, if +you call it that, cuts him off from feel-thinking; he can think +logically instead of sensually." + +He sipped his cocktail and continued: "I can understand why the +village is mounded up, too. I realized that while I was watching +Dave's gang bury the pump house. I'd been bothered by that, and by +the absence of granaries for all the grain they raise, and by the +number of people for so few and such small houses. I think the +village is mostly underground, and the houses are just entrances, +soundproofed, to shelter them from uncomfortable natural +noises--thunderstorms, for instance." + +The horn was braying in the snooper-screen speaker; somebody +wondered what it was for. Gofredo laughed. + +"I thought, at first, that it was a war-horn. It isn't. It's a +peace-horn," he said. "Public tranquilizer. The first day, they +brought it out and blew it at us to make us peaceable." + +"Now I see why Sonny is rejected and persecuted," Anna was saying. +"He must make all sorts of horrible noises that he can't hear ... +that's not the word; we have none for it ... and nobody but his +mother can stand being near him." + +"Like me," Lillian said. "Now I understand. Just think of the most +revolting thing that could be done to you physically; that's what I +do to them every time I speak. And I always thought I had a nice +voice," she added, pathetically. + +"You have, for Terrans," Ayesha said. "For Svants, you'll just +have to change it." + +"But how--?" + +"Use an analyzer; train it. That was why I took up sonics, in +the first place. I had a voice like a crow with a sore throat, +but by practicing with an analyzer, an hour a day, I gave myself +an entirely different voice in a couple of months. Just try to +get some pump-sound frequencies into it, like Luis'." + +"But why? I'm no use here. I'm a linguist, and these people haven't +any language that I could ever learn, and they couldn't even learn +ours. They couldn't learn to make sounds, as sounds." + +"You've been doing very good work with Mom on those ideographs," +Meillard said. "Keep it up till you've taught her the Lingua Terra +Basic vocabulary, and with her help we can train a few more. They +can be our interpreters; we can write what we want them to say to +the others. It'll be clumsy, but it will work, and it's about the +only thing I can think of that will." + +"And it will improve in time," Ayesha added. "And we can make +vocoders and visibilizers. Paul, you have authority to requisition +personnel from the ship's company. Draft me; I'll stay here and +work on it." + +The rumpus in the village plaza was getting worse. The Lord Mayor +and his adherents were being out-shouted by the opposition. + +"Better do something about that in a hurry, Paul, if you don't want +a lot of Svants shot," Gofredo said. "Give that another half hour +and we'll have visitors, with bows and spears." + +"Ayesha, you have a recording of the pump," Meillard said. "Load a +record-player onto a jeep and fly over the village and play it for +them. Do it right away. Anna, get Mom in here. We want to get her to +tell that gang that from now on, at noon and for a couple of hours +after sunset, when the work's done, there will be free public +pump-concerts, over the village plaza." + + * * * * * + +Ayesha and her warrant-officer helper and a Marine lieutenant +went out hastily. Everybody else faced the screen to watch. In +fifteen minutes, an airjeep was coming in on the village. As it +circled low, a new sound, the steady _thugg-thugg, thugg-thugg_ +of the pump, began. + +The yelling and twittering and the blaring of the peace-horn died out +almost at once. As the jeep circled down to housetop level, the two +contending faction-clumps broke apart; their component individuals +moved into the center of the plaza and squatted, staring up, letting +the delicious waves of sound caress them. + +"Do we have to send a detail in a jeep to do that twice a day?" +Gofredo asked. "We keep a snooper over the village; fit it with +a loud-speaker and a timer; it can give them their _thugg-thugg_, +on schedule, automatically." + +"We might give the Lord Mayor a recording and a player and let him +decide when the people ought to listen--if that's the word--to it," +Dorver said. "Then it would be something of their own." + +"No!" He spoke so vehemently that the others started. "You know +what would happen? Nobody would be able to turn it off; they'd +all be hypnotized, or doped, or whatever it is. They'd just sit +in a circle around it till they starved to death, and when the +power-unit gave out, the record-player would be surrounded by +a ring of skeletons. We'll just have to keep on playing it for +them ourselves. Terrans' Burden." + +"That'll give us a sanction over them," Gofredo observed. "Extra +_thugg-thugg_ if they're very good; shut it off on them if they act +nasty. And find out what Lillian has in her voice that the rest of +us don't have, and make a good loud recording of that, and stash it +away along with the rest of the heavy-weapons ammunition. You know, +you're not going to have any trouble at all, when we go down-country +to talk to the king or whatever. This is better than fire-water ever +was." + +"We must never misuse our advantage, Luis," Meillard said seriously. +"We must use it only for their good." + +He really meant it. Only--You had to know some general history to +study technological history, and it seemed to him that that pious +assertion had been made a few times before. Some of the others who +had made it had really meant it, too, but that had made little +difference in the long run. + +Fayon and Anna were talking enthusiastically about the work ahead of +them. + +"I don't know where your subject ends and mine begins," Anna was +saying. "We'll just have to handle it between us. What are we going +to call it? We certainly can't call it hearing." + +"Nonauditory sonic sense is the only thing I can think of," Fayon +said. "And that's such a clumsy term." + +"Mark; you thought of it first," Anna said. "What do you think?" + +"Nonauditory sonic sense. It isn't any worse than Domesticated +Type C, and that got cut down to size. _Naudsonce._" + + * * * * * + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Naudsonce, by H. 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