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+ <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 */
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+
+<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&mdash;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>&nbsp;</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>&nbsp;</p>
+<h2>BY H. BEAM PIPER</h2>
+
+<h4>ILLUSTRATED BY MOREY</h4>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</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&mdash;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&mdash;Lillian Ransby. Lillian
+Ransby&mdash;me <i>name</i>. You&mdash;<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&mdash;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&mdash;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-&#8203;hundred-&#8203;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&mdash;"</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"&mdash;he nodded at the hundred-power
+screen&mdash;"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&mdash;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&mdash;" 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&mdash;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&mdash;no,
+he didn't have any&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;local
+equivalent&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;"<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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;his
+hands indicated the size&mdash;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&mdash;Svants seemed to have
+pictoral sense, for which make us
+thankful!&mdash;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&mdash;"</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&mdash;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&mdash;?"</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&mdash;"</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&mdash;"</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&mdash;look how long
+it took an Old Terran Chinese scribe
+to learn his profession&mdash;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&mdash;the
+people, and that domsee, and
+Charley's svant-bat&mdash;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&mdash;" 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&#8203;&mdash;&#8203;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&mdash;?"</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&mdash;if
+that's the word&mdash;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&mdash;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
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+
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+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: 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. Beam Piper
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