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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: Warrior Race + +Author: Robert Sheckley + +Illustrator: Scattergood + +Release Date: July 30, 2009 [EBook #29548] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WARRIOR RACE *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figleft"> +<img src="images/001.png" width="305" height="550" alt="" title="" /> +<small><b>Illustrated by SCATTERGOOD</b></small></div> + +<h2>By<br /> +ROBERT<br /> +SHECKLEY</h2> + +<h1><big>WARRIOR<br /> +RACE</big></h1> + +<div class="bk1"><p><i><big><b>Destroying the spirit of the enemy is the +goal of war and the aliens had the best way!</b></big></i></p></div> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">They</span> never did discover +whose fault it was. Fannia +pointed out that if Donnaught +had had the brains of an +ox, as well as the build, he would +have remembered to check the +tanks. Donnaught, although twice +as big as him, wasn't quite as fast +with an insult. He intimated, +after a little thought, that Fannia's +nose might have obstructed +his reading of the fuel gauge.</p> + +<p>This still left them twenty +light-years from Thetis, with a +cupful of transformer fuel in the +emergency tank.</p> + +<p>"All right," Fannia said presently. +"What's done is done. We +can squeeze about three light-years +out of the fuel before we're +back on atomics. Hand me <i>The +Galactic Pilot</i>—unless you forgot +that, too."</p> + +<p>Donnaught dragged the bulky +microfilm volume out of its locker, +and they explored its pages.</p> + +<p><i>The Galactic Pilot</i> told them +they were in a sparse, seldom-visited +section of space, which +they already knew. The nearest +planetary system was Hatterfield; +no intelligent life there. Sersus +had a native population, but no +refueling facilities. The same with +Illed, Hung and Porderai.</p> + +<p>"Ah-ha!" Fannia said. "Read +that, Donnaught. If you can read, +that is."</p> + +<p>"Cascella," Donnaught read, +slowly and clearly, following the +line with a thick forefinger. "Type +M sun. Three planets, intelligent +(AA3C) human-type life on second. +Oxygen-breathers. Non-mechanical. +Religious. Friendly. +Unique social structure, described +in Galactic Survey Report +33877242. Population estimate: +stable at three billion. Basic Cascellan +vocabulary taped under +Cas33b2. Scheduled for resurvey +2375 A.D. Cache of transformer +fuel left, beam coordinate 8741 +kgl. Physical descript: Unocc. +flatland."</p> + +<p>"Transformer fuel, boy!" Fannia +said gleefully. "I believe we +will get to Thetis, after all." He +punched the new direction on the +ship's tape. "If that fuel's still +there."</p> + +<p>"Should we read up on the +unique social structure?" Donnaught +asked, still poring over +<i>The Galactic Pilot</i>.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," Fannia said. "Just +step over to the main galactic +base on Earth and buy me a +copy."</p> + +<p>"I forgot," Donnaught admitted +slowly.</p> + +<p>"Let me see," Fannia said, +dragging out the ship's language +library, "Cascellan, Cascellan ... +Here it is. Be good while I learn +the language." He set the tape +in the hypnophone and switched +it on. "Another useless tongue in +my overstuffed head," he murmured, +and then the hypnophone +took over.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Coming</span> out of transformer +drive with at least a drop of +fuel left, they switched to atomics. +Fannia rode the beam right +across the planet, locating the +slender metal spire of the Galactic +Survey cache. The plain was no +longer unoccupied, however. The +Cascellans had built a city around +the cache, and the spire dominated +the crude wood-and-mud +buildings.</p> + +<p>"Hang on," Fannia said, and +brought the ship down on the +outskirts of the city, in a field of +stubble.</p> + +<p>"Now look," Fannia said, unfastening +his safety belt. "We're +just here for fuel. No souvenirs, +no side-trips, no fraternizing."</p> + +<p>Through the port, they could +see a cloud of dust from the city. +As it came closer, they made out +figures running toward their ship.</p> + +<p>"What do you think this unique +social structure is?" Donnaught +asked, pensively checking the +charge in a needler gun.</p> + +<p>"I know not and care less," +Fannia said, struggling into space +armor. "Get dressed."</p> + +<p>"The air's breathable."</p> + +<p>"Look, pachyderm, for all we +know, these Cascellans think the +proper way to greet visitors is to +chop off their heads and stuff +them with green apples. If Galactic +says unique, it probably +means unique."</p> + +<p>"Galactic said they were friendly."</p> + +<p>"That means they haven't got +atomic bombs. Come on, get +dressed." Donnaught put down +the needler and struggled into an +oversize suit of space armor. Both +men strapped on needlers, paralyzers, +and a few grenades.</p> + +<p>"I don't think we have anything +to worry about," Fannia +said, tightening the last nut on his +helmet. "Even if they get rough, +they can't crack space armor. +And if they're not rough, we +won't have any trouble. Maybe +these gewgaws will help." He +picked up a box of trading articles—mirrors, +toys and the like.</p> + +<p>Helmeted and armored, Fannia +slid out the port and raised one +hand to the Cascellans. The language, +hypnotically placed in his +mind, leaped to his lips.</p> + +<p>"We come as friends and brothers. +Take us to the chief."</p> + +<p>The natives clustered around, +gaping at the ship and the space +armor. Although they had the +same number of eyes, ears and +limbs as humans, they completely +missed looking like them.</p> + +<p>"If they're friendly," Donnaught +asked, climbing out of +the port, "why all the hardware?" +The Cascellans were dressed predominantly +in a collection of +knives, swords and daggers. Each +man had at least five, and some +had eight or nine.</p> + +<p>"Maybe Galactic got their signals +crossed," Fannia said, as the +natives spread out in an escort. +"Or maybe the natives just use +the knives for mumblypeg."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The</span> city was typical of a non-mechanical +culture. Narrow, +packed-dirt streets twisted between +ramshackle huts. A few +two-story buildings threatened to +collapse at any minute. A stench +filled the air, so strong that Fannia's +filter couldn't quite eradicate +it. The Cascellans bounded +ahead of the heavily laden Earthmen, +dashing around like a pack +of playful puppies. Their knives +glittered and clanked.</p> + +<p>The chief's house was the only +three-story building in the city. +The tall spire of the cache was +right behind it.</p> + +<p>"If you come in peace," the +chief said when they entered, +"you are welcome." He was a +middle-aged Cascellan with at +least fifteen knives strapped to +various parts of his person. He +squatted cross-legged on a raised +dais.</p> + +<p>"We are privileged," Fannia +said. He remembered from the +hypnotic language lesson that +"chief" on Cascella meant more +than it usually did on Earth. The +chief here was a combination of +king, high priest, deity and bravest +warrior.</p> + +<p>"We have a few simple gifts +here," Fannia added, placing the +gewgaws at the king's feet. "Will +his majesty accept?"</p> + +<p>"No," the king said. "We accept +no gifts." Was that the +unique social structure? Fannia +wondered. It certainly was not +human. "We are a warrior race. +What we want, we take."</p> + +<p>Fannia sat cross-legged in +front of the dais and exchanged +conversation with the king while +Donnaught played with the +spurned toys. Trying to overcome +the initial bad impression, Fannia +told the chief about the stars +and other worlds, since simple +people usually liked fables. He +spoke of the ship, not mentioning +yet that it was out of fuel. He +spoke of Cascella, telling the +chief how its fame was known +throughout the Galaxy.</p> + +<p>"That is as it should be," the +chief said proudly. "We are a +race of warriors, the like of which +has never been seen. Every man +of us dies fighting."</p> + +<p>"You must have fought some +great wars," Fannia said politely, +wondering what idiot had written +up the galactic report.</p> + +<p>"I have not fought a war for +many years," the chief said. "We +are united now, and all our enemies +have joined us."</p> + +<p>Bit by bit, Fannia led up to +the matter of the fuel.</p> + +<p>"What is this 'fuel'?" the chief +asked, haltingly because there +was no equivalent for it in the +Cascellan language.</p> + +<p>"It makes our ship go."</p> + +<p>"And where is it?"</p> + +<p>"In the metal spire," Fannia +said. "If you would just allow +us—"</p> + +<p>"In the holy shrine?" the chief +exclaimed, shocked. "The tall +metal church which the gods left +here long ago?"</p> + +<p>"Yeah," Fannia said sadly, +knowing what was coming. "I +guess that's it."</p> + +<p>"It is sacrilege for an outworlder +to go near it," the chief said. +"I forbid it."</p> + +<p>"We need the fuel." Fannia +was getting tired of sitting cross-legged. +Space armor wasn't built +for complicated postures. "The +spire was put here for such +emergencies."</p> + +<p>"Strangers, know that I am god +of my people, as well as their +leader. If you dare approach +the sacred temple, there will be +war."</p> + +<p>"I was afraid of that," Fannia +said, getting to his feet.</p> + +<p>"And since we are a race of +warriors," the chief said, "at my +command, every fighting man of +the planet will move against you. +More will come from the hills +and from across the rivers."</p> + +<p>Abruptly, the chief drew a +knife. It must have been a signal, +because every native in the room +did the same.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Fannia</span> dragged Donnaught +away from the toys. "Look, +lummox. These friendly warriors +can't do a damn thing to us. +Those knives can't cut space +armor, and I doubt if they have +anything better. Don't let them +pile up on you, though. Use the +paralyzer first, the needler if they +really get thick."</p> + +<p>"Right." Donnaught whisked +out and primed a paralyzer in a +single coordinated movement. +With weapons, Donnaught was +fast and reliable, which was virtue +enough for Fannia to keep him +as a partner.</p> + +<p>"We'll cut around this building +and grab the fuel. Two cans +ought to be enough. Then we'll +beat it fast."</p> + +<p>They walked out the building, +followed by the Cascellans. Four +carriers lifted the chief, who was +barking orders. The narrow +street outside was suddenly +jammed with armed natives. No +one tried to touch them yet, but +at least a thousand knives were +flashing in the sun.</p> + +<p>In front of the cache was a +solid phalanx of Cascellans. They +stood behind a network of ropes +that probably marked the boundary +between sacred and profane +ground.</p> + +<p>"Get set for it," Fannia said, +and stepped over the ropes.</p> + +<p>Immediately the foremost temple +guard raised his knife. Fannia +brought up the paralyzer, not +firing it yet, still moving forward.</p> + +<p>The foremost native shouted +something, and the knife swept +across in a glittering arc. The +Cascellan gurgled something else, +staggered and fell. Bright blood +oozed from his throat.</p> + +<p>"I <i>told</i> you not to use the +needler yet!" Fannia said.</p> + +<p>"I didn't," Donnaught protested. +Glancing back, Fannia saw +that Donnaught's needler was +still holstered.</p> + +<p>"Then I don't get it," said +Fannia bewilderedly.</p> + +<p>Three more natives bounded +forward, their knives held high. +They tumbled to the ground also. +Fannia stopped and watched as a +platoon of natives advanced on +them.</p> + +<p>Once they were within stabbing +range of the Earthmen, the natives +were slitting their own +throats!</p> + +<p>Fannia was frozen for a moment, +unable to believe his eyes. +Donnaught halted behind him.</p> + +<p>Natives were rushing forward +by the hundreds now, their knives +poised, screaming at the Earthmen. As +they came within range, +each native stabbed himself, tumbling +on a quickly growing pile +of bodies. In minutes the Earthmen +were surrounded by a heap +of bleeding Cascellan flesh, which +was steadily growing higher.</p> + +<p>"All right!" Fannia shouted. +"Stop it." He yanked Donnaught +back with him, to profane ground. +"Truce!" he yelled in Cascellan.</p> + +<p>The crowd parted and the chief +was carried through. With two +knives clenched in his fists, he +was panting from excitement.</p> + +<p>"We have won the first battle!" +he said proudly. "The might of +our warriors frightens even such +aliens as yourselves. You shall +not profane our temple while a +man is alive on Cascella!"</p> + +<p>The natives shouted their approval +and triumph.</p> + +<p>The two aliens dazedly stumbled +back to their ship.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">"So</span> that's what Galactic +meant by 'a unique social +structure,'" Fannia said morosely. +He stripped off his armor and +lay down on his bunk. "Their +way of making war is to suicide +their enemies into capitulation."</p> + +<p>"They must be nuts," Donnaught +grumbled. "That's no way +to fight."</p> + +<p>"It works, doesn't it?" Fannia +got up and stared out a porthole. +The sun was setting, painting +the city a charming red in +its glow. The beams of light +glistened off the spire of the +Galactic cache. Through the open +doorway they could hear the +boom and rattle of drums. "Tribal +call to arms," Fannia said.</p> + +<p>"I still say it's crazy." Donnaught +had some definite ideas +on fighting. "It ain't human."</p> + +<p>"I'll buy that. The idea seems +to be that if enough people +slaughter themselves, the enemy +gives up out of sheer guilty +conscience."</p> + +<p>"What if the enemy doesn't +give up?"</p> + +<p>"Before these people united, +they must have fought it out +tribe to tribe, suiciding until +someone gave up. The losers +probably joined the victors; the +tribe must have grown until it +could take over the planet by +sheer weight of numbers." Fannia +looked carefully at Donnaught, +trying to see if he understood. +"It's anti-survival, of +course; if someone didn't give up, +the race would probably kill +themselves." He shook his head. +"But war of any kind is anti-survival. +Perhaps they've got +rules."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't we just barge in and +grab the fuel quick?" Donnaught +asked. "And get out before they +all killed themselves?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," Fannia said. +"They might go on committing +suicide for the next ten years, +figuring they were still fighting +us." He looked thoughtfully at +the city. "It's that chief of theirs. +He's their god and he'd probably +keep them suiciding until he was +the only man left. Then he'd grin, +say, 'We are great warriors,' and +kill himself."</p> + +<p>Donnaught shrugged his big +shoulders in disgust. "Why don't +we knock him off?"</p> + +<p>"They'd just elect another +god." The sun was almost below +the horizon now. "I've got an +idea, though," Fannia said. He +scratched his head. "It might +work. All we can do is try."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">At</span> midnight, the two men +sneaked out of the ship, moving +silently into the city. They +were both dressed in space armor +again. Donnaught carried two +empty fuel cans. Fannia had +his paralyzer out.</p> + +<p>The streets were dark and silent +as they slid along walls and +around posts, keeping out of +sight. A native turned a corner +suddenly, but Fannia paralyzed +him before he could make a +sound.</p> + +<p>They crouched in the darkness, +in the mouth of an alley facing +the cache.</p> + +<p>"Have you got it straight?" +Fannia asked. "I paralyze the +guards. You bolt in and fill up +those cans. We get the hell out +of here, quick. When they check, +they find the cans still there. +Maybe they won't commit suicide +then."</p> + +<p>The men moved across the +shadowy steps in front of the +cache. There were three Cascellans +guarding the entrance, their +knives stuck in their loincloths. +Fannia stunned them with a medium +charge, and Donnaught +broke into a run.</p> + +<p>Torches instantly flared, natives +boiled out of every alleyway, +shouting, waving their +knives.</p> + +<p>"We've been ambushed!" Fannia +shouted. "Get back here, +Donnaught!"</p> + +<p>Donnaught hurriedly retreated. +The natives had been waiting for +them. Screaming, yowling, they +rushed at the Earthmen, slitting +their own throats at five-foot +range. Bodies tumbled in front +of Fannia, almost tripping him +as he backed up. Donnaught +caught him by an arm and yanked +him straight. They ran out of +the sacred area.</p> + +<p>"Truce, damn it!" Fannia called +out. "Let me speak to the chief. +Stop it! Stop it! I want a truce!"</p> + +<p>Reluctantly, the Cascellans +stopped their slaughter.</p> + +<p>"This is war," the chief said, +striding forward. His almost human +face was stern under the +torchlight. "You have seen our +warriors. You know now that you +cannot stand against them. The +word has spread to all our lands. +My entire people are prepared to +do battle."</p> + +<p>He looked proudly at his fellow-Cascellans, +then back to the +Earthmen. "I myself will lead +my people into battle now. There +will be no stopping us. We will +fight until you surrender yourselves +completely, stripping off +your armor."</p> + +<p>"Wait, Chief," Fannia panted, +sick at the sight of so much +blood. The clearing was a scene +out of the Inferno. Hundreds of +bodies were sprawled around. The +streets were muddy with blood.</p> + +<p>"Let me confer with my partner +tonight. I will speak with you +tomorrow."</p> + +<p>"No," the chief said. "You +started the battle. It must go to +its conclusion. Brave men wish +to die in battle. It is our fondest +wish. You are the first enemy we +have had in many years, since +we subdued the mountain tribes."</p> + +<p>"Sure," Fannia said. "But let's +talk about it—"</p> + +<p>"I myself will fight you," the +chief said, holding up a dagger. "I +will die for my people, as a warrior +must!"</p> + +<p>"Hold it!" Fannia shouted. +"Grant us a truce. We are allowed +to fight only by sunlight. It +is a tribal taboo."</p> + +<p>The chief thought for a moment, +then said, "Very well. Until +tomorrow."</p> + +<p>The beaten Earthmen walked +slowly back to their ship amid +the jeers of the victorious populace.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Next</span> morning, Fannia still +didn't have a plan. He knew +that he had to have fuel; he +wasn't planning on spending the +rest of his life on Cascella, or +waiting until the Galactic Survey +sent another ship, in fifty years +or so. On the other hand, he +hesitated at the idea of being +responsible for the death of anywhere +up to three billion people. +It wouldn't be a very good record +to take to Thetis. The Galactic +Survey might find out about it. +Anyway, he just wouldn't do it.</p> + +<p>He was stuck both ways.</p> + +<p>Slowly, the two men walked +out to meet the chief. Fannia was +still searching wildly for an idea +while listening to the drums +booming.</p> + +<p>"If there was only someone we +could fight," Donnaught mourned, +looking at his useless blasters.</p> + +<p>"That's the deal," Fannia said. +"Guilty conscience is making sinners +of us all, or something like +that. They expect us to give in +before the carnage gets out of +hand." He considered for a moment. +"It's not so crazy, actually. +On Earth, armies don't usually +fight until every last man is +slaughtered on one side. Someone +surrenders when they've had +enough."</p> + +<p>"If they'd just fight <i>us</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Yeah, if they only—" He +stopped. "We'll fight each other!" +he said. "These people look at +suicide as war. Wouldn't they +look upon war—real fighting—as +suicide?"</p> + +<p>"What good would that do us?" +Donnaught asked.</p> + +<p>They were coming into the city +now and the streets were lined +with armed natives. Around the +city there were thousands more. +Natives were filling the plain, as +far as the eye could see. Evidently +they had responded to the drums +and were here to do battle with +the aliens.</p> + +<p>Which meant, of course, a +wholesale suicide.</p> + +<p>"Look at it this way," Fannia +said. "If a guy plans on suiciding +on Earth, what do we do?"</p> + +<p>"Arrest him?" Donnaught asked.</p> + +<p>"Not at first. We offer him anything +he wants, if he just won't +do it. People offer the guy money, +a job, their daughters, anything, +just so he won't do it. It's taboo +on Earth."</p> + +<p>"So?"</p> + +<p>"So," Fannia went on, "maybe +fighting is just as taboo here. +Maybe they'll offer us fuel, if +we'll just stop."</p> + +<p>Donnaught looked dubious, but +Fannia felt it was worth a try.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">They</span> pushed their way through +the crowded city, to the entrance +of the cache. The chief was +waiting for them, beaming on +his people like a jovial war god.</p> + +<p>"Are you ready to do battle?" +he asked. "Or to surrender?"</p> + +<p>"Sure," Fannia said. "Now, +Donnaught!"</p> + +<p>He swung, and his mailed fist +caught Donnaught in the ribs. +Donnaught blinked.</p> + +<p>"Come on, you idiot, hit me +back."</p> + +<p>Donnaught swung, and Fannia +staggered from the force of the +blow. In a second they were at +it like a pair of blacksmiths, +mailed blows ringing from their +armored hides.</p> + +<p>"A little lighter," Fannia gasped, +picking himself up from the +ground. "You're denting my ribs." +He belted Donnaught viciously +on the helmet.</p> + +<p>"Stop it!" the chief cried. "This +is disgusting!"</p> + +<p>"It's working," Fannia panted. +"Now let me strangle you. I think +that might do it."</p> + +<p>Donnaught obliged by falling +to the ground. Fannia clamped +both hands around Donnaught's +armored neck, and squeezed.</p> + +<p>"Make believe you're in agony, +idiot," he said.</p> + +<p>Donnaught groaned and moaned +as convincingly as he could.</p> + +<p>"You must stop!" the chief +screamed. "It is terrible to kill +another!"</p> + +<p>"Then let me get some fuel," +Fannia said, tightening his grip +on Donnaught's throat.</p> + +<p>The chief thought it over for +a little while. Then he shook his +head.</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"You are aliens. If you want to +do this disgraceful thing, do it. +But you shall not profane our +religious relics."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Donnaught</span> and Fannia +staggered to their feet. Fannia +was exhausted from fighting +in the heavy space armor; he +barely made it up.</p> + +<p>"Now," the chief said, "surrender +at once. Take off your +armor or do battle with us."</p> + +<p>The thousands of warriors—possibly +millions, because more +were arriving every second—shouted +their blood-wrath. The +cry was taken up on the outskirts +and echoed to the hills, +where more fighting men were +pouring down into the crowded +plain.</p> + +<p>Fannia's face contorted. He +couldn't give himself and Donnaught +up to the Cascellans. They +might be cooked at the next +church supper. For a moment he +considered going after the fuel +and letting the damned fools +suicide all they pleased.</p> + +<p>His mind an angry blank, Fannia +staggered forward and hit the +chief in the face with a mailed +glove.</p> + +<p>The chief went down, and the +natives backed away in horror. +Quickly, the chief snapped out a +knife and brought it up to his +throat. Fannia's hands closed on +the chief's wrists.</p> + +<p>"Listen to me," Fannia croaked. +"We're going to take that fuel. +If any man makes a move—if +anyone kills himself—I'll kill +your chief."</p> + +<p>The natives milled around uncertainly. +The chief was struggling +wildly in Fannia's hands, +trying to get a knife to his throat, +so he could die honorably.</p> + +<p>"Get it," Fannia told Donnaught, +"and hurry it up."</p> + +<p>The natives were uncertain just +what to do. They had their knives +poised at their throats, ready to +plunge if battle was joined.</p> + +<p>"Don't do it," Fannia warned. +"I'll kill the chief and then he'll +never die a warrior's death."</p> + +<p>The chief was still trying to +kill himself. Desperately, Fannia +held on, knowing he had to keep +him from suicide in order to hold +the threat of death over him.</p> + +<p>"Listen, Chief," Fannia said, +eying the uncertain crowd. "I +must have your promise there'll +be no more war between us. Either +I get it or I kill you."</p> + +<p>"Warriors!" the chief roared. +"Choose a new ruler. Forget me +and do battle!"</p> + +<p>The Cascellans were still uncertain, +but knives started to lift.</p> + +<p>"If you do it," Fannia shouted +in despair, "I'll kill your chief. +<i>I'll kill all of you!</i>"</p> + +<p>That stopped them.</p> + +<p>"I have powerful magic in my +ship. I can kill every last man, +and then you won't be able to +die a warrior's death. <i>Or</i> get to +heaven!"</p> + +<p>The chief tried to free himself +with a mighty surge that almost +tore one of his arms free, but +Fannia held on, pinning both +arms behind his back.</p> + +<p>"Very well," the chief said, +tears springing into his eyes. "A +warrior must die by his own hand. +You have won, alien."</p> + +<p>The crowd shouted curses as +the Earthmen carried the chief +and the cans of fuel back to the +ship. They waved their knives +and danced up and down in a +frenzy of hate.</p> + +<p>"Let's make it fast," Fannia +said, after Donnaught had fueled +the ship.</p> + +<p>He gave the chief a push and +leaped in. In a second they were +in the air, heading for Thetis and +the nearest bar at top speed.</p> + +<p>The natives were hot for blood—their +own. Every man of them +pledged his life to wiping out the +insult to their leader and god, +and to their shrine.</p> + +<p>But the aliens were gone. There +was nobody to fight.</p> + +<p class="rgt"><b>—ROBERT SHECKLEY</b></p> + +<div class="trn"><div class="figt"><a href="images/002-2.jpg"><img src="images/002-1.jpg" width="148" height="200" alt="" title="" /></a></div> + +<p><big><b>Transcriber's Note:</b></big></p> + +<p>This etext was produced from <i>Galaxy Science Fiction</i> November 1952. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and +typographical errors have been corrected without note.</p></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Warrior Race, by Robert Sheckley + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WARRIOR RACE *** + +***** This file should be named 29548-h.htm or 29548-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/5/4/29548/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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