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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Join Our Gang?, by Sterling E. Lanier
+
+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: Join Our Gang?
+
+Author: Sterling E. Lanier
+
+Illustrator: Douglas
+
+Release Date: September 14, 2009 [EBook #29987]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOIN OUR GANG? ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note: This e-text was produced from Analog Science Fact &
+Fiction, May, 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence
+that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
+
+
+
+
+ JOIN
+OUR GANG?
+
+
+
+By STERLING E. LANIER
+
+
+
+_They didn't exactly hold a gun at anybody's
+head; all they offered was help. Of course,
+they did sort of encourage people to ask for
+help...._
+
+
+
+Illustrated by Douglas
+
+
+
+
+Commander William Powers, subleader of Survey Group Sirian Combine--1027798
+and hence first officer of its ship, the _Benefactor_, stared coldly
+out of his cabin port. The _Benefactor_ was resting on the bedrock of
+Island Twenty-seven of the world called Mureess by its natives. Like
+all the other such names, it meant "the world," just as the natives'
+name for themselves, Falsethsa, meant "the people," or "us," or "the
+only race." To Commander Powers, fifty years old, with eleven of them
+in Survey work, the world was Planet Two of a star called something
+unpronounceable in the nebula of something else equally pointless. He
+had not bothered to learn the native name of Island Twenty-seven,
+because his ship had mapped one thousand three hundred and eighty-six
+islands, all small, and either rocky or swampy or both. Island
+Twenty-seven, to him, had only one importance, and that was its being
+the site of the largest city on the planet.
+
+Around the island's seven square miles, a maze of docks, buildings,
+sheds, breakwaters, and artificial inlets made a maze stretching a mile
+out to sea in every direction. The gray sea, now covered with fog
+patches, rolled on the horizon under low-lying cloud. Numerous craft,
+some small, some large, moved busily about on the water, which in its
+components was identical with that of Terra, far distant in the Sirius
+Sector. Crude but workable atomic motors powered most of them, and
+there was a high proportion of submarines. Powers thought of Earth's
+oceans for a moment, but then dismissed the thought. Biological
+technical data were no specialty he needed. Terra might be suitable for
+the action formulating in his mind, but a thousand suns of Sirian
+Combine might prove more useful. The biologists of Grand Base would
+determine, assisted by data his ship provided, in their monster
+computers, what was called for. Powers had been trained for different
+purposes.
+
+He was, as every survey commander was, a battle-hardened warrior. He
+had fought in two major fleet actions in his day, and had once, as a
+very junior ensign of the Sirian Grand Fleet, participated in the
+ultimate horror, the destruction by obliteration of an inhabited
+planet. For planetary destruction a unanimous vote of the Sirian Grand
+Council, representing over four thousand worlds, was necessary. It had
+been given only four times in the long history of the Confederacy.
+Every intelligent being in the great Union shuddered at the thought of
+its ever becoming necessary again. Powers stared moodily over the rocky
+ground toward a group of figures in the distance which were moving in
+his direction. The final delegation of the Mureess government, a world
+government, was coming for its last meeting before the _Benefactor_
+departed into the far reaches of space.
+
+Powers braced himself mentally for a grand effort. He held equivalent
+rank to that of a Galactic admiral, and it was held for one reason
+only, because of his real work and its importance. He was a
+super-psychologist, a trend-analyzer, a salesman, a promoter, a viewer,
+an expert on alien symbology and the spearhead of the most ruthless
+intelligence service in the known universe. Long ago, he had
+transferred from the battle fleet to the inner school at Sirius Prime
+for the most intensive training ever devised. Now it would be put to
+the ultimate test.
+
+He heard the air lock open and turned away from the window. He had a
+long way to walk to the neutral council chamber, for the _Benefactor_
+was a big ship, despite the fact that only twenty beings comprised the
+total complement. Down the echoing corridors he paced, brow furrowed in
+thought. Mazechazz would have his own ideas, he knew, but if they made
+no impression, he would have to put his oar in. Each being on board,
+whether he breathed halogen or oxygen, ate uranium or protein, had to
+be independent in thought and action under certain circumstances. The
+circumstances were here, here and now in his judgment.
+
+He arrived at the door of the Council chamber, and entered, an
+impressive sight in flaming orange and blue uniform.
+
+
+Four members of the Supreme Council of the Mureess rose solemnly and
+inclined their heads in his direction. They were tall bipeds of vaguely
+reptilian ancestry, most of their height being body. They stood on
+short powerful legs, terminating in flippered feet, and their long arms
+were flanged to the second elbow with a rubbery fin. Only four opposed
+fingers flexed the hands, but the dome-shaped heads and golden eyes
+screamed intelligence as loudly as the bodies shouted adaption to an
+aquatic environment. Around the brown torsos, light but efficient
+harness supported a variety of instruments in noncorrosive metal
+sheaths. All of the instruments had been discreetly examined by
+scanning beams and pronounced harmless before any contact had been
+allowed.
+
+Across the central table, Sakh Mazechazz, of Lyra 8, leader and captain
+of the Survey stared red-eyed at his executive officer. Mazechazz
+resembled the delegation far more than he did his own officer, for he,
+too, had remotely reptilian forbears. Indeed he still sported a
+flexible tail and, save for his own orange and blue uniform, ablaze
+with precious stones, resembled nothing so much as a giant Terrestrial
+chameleon. The uniforms were no accident. Surveymen wore anything or
+nothing as the case called for it, and the Falsethsa admired bright
+colors, having few of their own and a good color sense. The gleaming
+jewels on Mazechazz's uniform stressed his superiority in rank to
+Powers, as they were meant to.
+
+Of the twenty Surveymen on board the _Benefactor_, Mazechazz and Powers
+were the only two who most resembled, in that order, the oxygen-breathing
+natives of Mureess. That automatically made them captain and executive
+officer of the _Benefactor_. The native population saw only the captain
+and executive officer of the ship, and only the council chamber. On a
+world of ammonia breathers, Mazechazz and Powers would have been
+invisible in their own part of the ship providing advice only to the
+Skorak of Marga 10, Lambdem, and perhaps Nyur of Antares-bi-12. If a
+suspicious native saw an entity with whom he could feel a remote
+relationship giving orders to a weird-looking, far more, alien
+creature, a feeling of confidence might appear.
+
+Since Mazechazz came from a planet of super-heated desert and scrub
+resembling the Karoo of South Africa, the resemblance could have been
+bettered, but it was well within the allowable limits set forth in the
+Inner Mandate. And in Galactic Psychology, every trick counted. For
+persuasion was the chief weapon of the Sirian Combine. Outright force
+was absolutely forbidden, save by the aforesaid vote of the council.
+Every weapon in the book of persuasion was used to bring intelligent
+races into the Combine, and persuasion is a thing of infinite variety.
+
+
+As these thoughts flashed through Powers' mind, he seated himself in a
+plain chair and adjusted the Universal Speaker to his mouth. Beside
+him, on a more elaborate chair, tailored to fit his tail, Mazechazz did
+the same, while the four Falsethsa seated themselves on low stools and
+took similar instruments from the oblong table which separated them
+from the two Surveymen. Deep in the bowels of the ship, a giant
+translator switched on, to simultaneously translate and record the
+mutually alien tongues as they were spoken. Adjustable extensions on
+the speakers brought the sound to the bone of the skull. For different
+life forms, different instruments would have been necessary and were
+provided for.
+
+Mazechazz, as "captain," opened the proceedings.
+
+"Since this is our last session with you, we hope some fresh proposals
+have occurred to your honorable council during your absence," hummed
+the speaker through Powers' skull.
+
+He who was designated First among the council of the Mureess answered.
+
+"We have no new proposals, nor indeed had we ever any. Trade would be
+welcome, but we vitally need nothing you or your Combine have
+described, captain. We have all the minerals we need and the Great
+Mother--he meant the sea--provides food. We will soon go into space
+ourselves and meet as equals with you. We cannot tolerate what you call
+an 'observer,' who seems to us a spy, and not subject to our laws by
+your own definition. That is all we have to say."
+
+That does it, thought Powers glumly. The cold--and entirely
+accurate--description of a Planetary representative of the Sirian
+Combine was the final clincher. The intensely proud and chauvinistic
+Falsethsa would tolerate no interference.
+
+Mazechazz gave no indication that he had heard. He tried again.
+
+"In addition to trade and education, general advancement of the
+populace," murmured the mike, "have you considered defense?" He paused.
+"Not all races who travel in space are friendly. A few are starkly
+inimical, hating all other forms of life. Could you defend yourselves,
+Honorable Sirs, against such?"
+
+It was obvious from the speed of the answer that the Council of Mureess
+had considered, if not anticipated this question. The second member
+spoke, an obvious pre-assignment.
+
+"In all our long history, you are our first contact with star
+travelers. Yet we are not defenseless. The Great Mother contains not
+only food, fish and plants which we harvest, but many strong and
+terrible beasts. Very few are left to disturb us. In addition, the
+implications of your ship have not escaped us, and our scientists are
+even now adapting some of our atomic devices used in mining to other
+ends." The voice contained a faint hint of pride as it ended. We got
+guns, too, buddy, it said, and we ain't pushovers.
+
+The First of the Council spoke again. "Let me be plain, Respected
+Star-farers. It seems obvious to us that you have learned most of what
+we represent as a council, if not all. We are the heads of the Great
+Clans and we will not change. It hardly seems likely that you represent
+a society based on heredity if you include the diverse and nameless
+breeds of creature you have shown us on your screens. We do not want
+such an amalgam on our world causing unrest and disturbances of public
+order. Still less do we desire authoritarian interference with the
+ordered life we have developed. Your requests are one and severally
+refused. There will be no 'observer.' Trade, regulated by us, will be
+welcome. Otherwise, should you choose not to be bound by our laws, we
+must respectfully and finally bid you farewell. When at some future
+date, we develop ships such as yours, we may reconsider." The speaker
+paused, looked at his three confreres, who nodded silently. The First
+stared arrogantly at Mazechazz, and continued.
+
+"Finally, we have decided to place a ban on further landings by aliens
+unless you are now prepared to negotiate a trade agreement on our
+terms!"
+
+
+Powers thought frantically, his face motionless. This was defeat, stark
+and unequivocal. The parable he had in mind seemed indicated now or
+never. He turned to Sakh Mazechazz, and spoke.
+
+"May I have your permission to address the Honored Council, Noble
+Captain?" he asked.
+
+"Speak, First Officer," said the Lyran, his gular pouches throbbing.
+His ruby eyes, to his associate, looked pained, as well they might.
+
+"Let me pose a question, Honored Sirs," said Powers. "Suppose that in
+your early history of creating your orderly realm you had discovered on
+one of your islands a race of Falsethsa as advanced and regulated as
+yourselves who wished nothing to do with you?" He could feel the
+alerted tension of the four as the golden eyes glowed at him.
+
+"The implications of your question are obvious," the First of the
+Council spoke, as coldly as ever. "Do you threaten us with force from
+your Combine devoted to peace?" The flat voice of the translator hummed
+with acquired and impossible violence which Powers knew to be
+subjective.
+
+The First continued. "We would resist to the ultimate, down to the
+least of our young and the most helpless female weed cultivator! Do
+your worst!"
+
+Powers sat back. He had done his best. The hereditary dictatorship of a
+united world had spoken. No democratic minority had ever raised its
+head here. The society of Mureess was stratified in a way ancient India
+never thought of being, down to refuse collectors of a thousand
+generations of dishonorable standing. Ancient Japan had been as rigidly
+exclusionist but there _had_ been a progressive element there. Here
+there was nothing. Nothing that is, except a united world of coldly
+calculating and very advanced entities about to erupt into space with
+Heaven knew what weapons and a murderous arrogance and race pride to
+bolster them.
+
+He thought of the dead orb called Sebelia, rolling around its worthless
+sun, an object of nausea to all life. And he had helped. Well, the boys
+in Biology had the ball now. He forced himself to listen to the First
+of Council as he bade Mazechazz a courteous farewell.
+
+"Depart in harmony and peace, Honorable Star-farers. May your Great
+Mother be benign, when you return to give your high council our message
+on the far-distant worlds you have shown us in the sky."
+
+The Council departed, leaving Powers and Mazechazz staring at each
+other in the council chamber, their gaudy uniforms looking a little
+dull and drab.
+
+"Well, Sakh," said Powers, his ruddy face a little flushed, "we can't
+be perfect. They don't know about spacewarps and instantaneous
+communicators. Plan II has nothing to do with us."
+
+"Beyond our recommendation, you mean," said the Lyran flatly. "We have
+failed, William. This means death for thousands of innocent beings,
+perhaps more. Their world population is about eighty million, you
+know."
+
+There was silence in the room until Powers broke it again.
+
+"Would you have Sebelia, Sakh," he asked gently, "or Ruller I,
+Bellevan's world, or Labath?" There was no answer to this and he knew
+it. There was only one alternative to a dead, burned-out, empty planet.
+Mureess was in the wrong stage of development, and it would have to be
+brought in line. The Sirian Combine had to, and would remove any
+intelligent unknown menace from a position from which it could threaten
+its Master plan of integrated peace. As they left the chamber, Powers
+said a silent prayer and touched the tiny Crescent and Star embroidered
+on his shirt pocket. At least, he thought, the planted ultra-wave
+communicators would be there when the Falsethsa needed them. He looked
+out of a corridor port at the gray and rolling sea. The Great Mother,
+he thought bitterly, benevolent and overflowing!
+
+
+Traleres-124, female gardener, aged thirty-two cycles, hummed in a
+minor key as she harvested weed of the solstice crop, twelve miles off
+the northern islands. A rest period was due in the next cycle day, and
+she and her mate were ahead of quota which should make the supervisor
+give them a good holiday.
+
+The tall weed swayed gently against her and several small fish darted
+past in fright. As the first heavy beat of the water struck against her
+slim body, she looked up. Frozen with horror, she released her
+container, but in forty feet of water, the monster caught her before
+she had moved a hundred yards.
+
+As it fed, horribly, other grim shapes, attracted by the blood moved in
+from the distant murk of deeper water.
+
+
+Savathake-er rode his one-man torpedo alertly as he probed the southern
+bay of Ramasarett. He was a scientist-12 and also a hereditary hunter.
+If the giant fish, long since eliminated from the rest of the seas,
+were breeding in some secret area of the far and desolate southern
+rocks, it was his business to know it. No fish could catch his
+high-powered torpedo, while his electric spears packed a lethal jolt.
+Probably, he thought, a rumor of the poor fisher folk who worked the
+southern fringe areas. What else could you expect from such types, who
+had never even learned to read in a thousand cycles. Nevertheless, as
+he patrolled the sunken rocks, he was alert, scanning the water on all
+sides constantly for the great shape he sought, his skin alert for the
+first strange vibration. By neglecting the broken bottom, brown with
+laminaria and kelp, he missed the great, mottled tentacle which plucked
+him off his torpedo in a flash of movement, leaving the riderless craft
+to cruise aimlessly away into the distance.
+
+
+"Your highness," said the Supervisor Supreme, "we are helpless. We have
+never used metal nets, because we have never had to. Our fiber nets
+they slash to ribbons. They attack every species of food-fish from the
+Ursaa to the Krad. The breeding rate is fantastic, and now my equal who
+controls the mines says they are attacking the miners despite all the
+protection he can give them. They are not large, but in millions----"
+
+"Cease your outcries," said the First in Council, wearily, "and remove
+that animal from my writing desk. I have seen many pictures of it since
+they first appeared five cycles ago. It still looks alien and
+repulsive."
+
+They stared in silence at the shape that any high-school biology
+student of distant Terra could have identified in his sleep.
+
+At length, the First in Council dismissed the Supervisor of Fisheries
+and headed thoughtfully for an inner room of his palace. He knew at
+last the meaning of the strange metal communicating devices, discovered
+and confiscated, after the star ship had departed, six cycles before.
+It was a simple machine to operate, and he guessed food could be sent
+incredibly quickly to his starving planet. Just as quickly as other
+things, he thought grimly. And we have to beg. Hah. Admission to the
+great peace-loving Combine, may the crabs devour them.
+
+But he knew that he would send and that they would come.
+
+
+"I was comparing the two reports, my friend," said Mazechazz, "but I am
+not so familiar with your planetary ecology as I should be. When
+Mureess applied for admission to the Combine, I requested a copy of
+their secret directive from Biology, but I had never seen the older
+report until you gave it to me just now. Can you explain the names to
+me, if I read them off?"
+
+"Go ahead," said Powers, sipping his sherbet noisily. He seldom
+wondered what alcohol would feel like any longer. Most Old Believers
+had tried it when young and disliked it.
+
+"I've already looked up the names I didn't know," he said, "so start
+the Mureessan list first."
+
+"Great White Shark, or Man-eater," read Mazechazz. "He sounds obvious
+and nasty."
+
+"He is," said Powers. He put down his glass. "Remember, as usual, the
+birth rate has been at least tripled. An increased metabolism means
+increased food consumption, and no shark on Terra was ever full. This
+brute runs forty feet when allowed, in size, that is. A giant
+carnivorous fish, very tough."
+
+"Number two is Architeuthis, or Giant Squid," continued the Lyran. "Is
+that a fish? Sorry, but on my world, well, fish are curiosities."
+
+"It's an eyed, carnivorous mollusk with enormous arms, ten of them and
+it reaches eighty feet long at least. Swims well, too."
+
+There was a moment of silence, then Mazechazz continued. "Smooth
+dogfish."
+
+"A tiny shark," said Powers, "about three and a half feet in size. They
+school in thousands on Terra and eat anything that swims. Just blind
+agile appetite. They have a high _normal_ breeding rate."
+
+"Finally we have a Baleran Salamander, so you're free of one curse,
+anyway. Balera, I believe, is hellishly wet, although I don't know much
+about it."
+
+Powers rose and stretched. "He's a little fellow with six legs and a
+leathery hide. A nuisance on Balera, which is the equivalent of a
+Terran swamp. He eats every vegetable known, dry or fresh, and, being
+only two inches long is hard to see. He doesn't bite, just eats things
+and breeds. There must be millions by now, on each island of Mureess.
+Then the eggs get carried about. They're tough and adhesive. You can
+guess what their warehouses looked like."
+
+"At least two million starved before the Council gave in," resumed the
+Lyran sadly. "But they gave in all the way and abolished caste
+privilege before the first relief ship even arrived. They'll be full
+members shortly. And this older report?"
+
+"Read the names," said Powers. He was staring out of the Club window at
+the stars. "They fed us our own dirt, because we hadn't eliminated all
+our competitors. Disease means microorganisms, so you choose the
+largest animal possible with efficiency, that is. Just read the list.
+My grandparents died, you know, but it had to be done, or we'd have
+destroyed ourselves. The Combine was a far greater blessing to us than
+it ever was to Mureess, I can assure you of that!"
+
+He listened in silence as the Lyran read.
+
+ "Desmodus, the vampire bat,
+ Rattus Norvegicus, the common rat,
+ Mus Domesticus, the common mouse,
+ The Common Locust,
+ Sylvilagus, the Cottontail Rabbit,
+ Passer Domesticus, the House Sparrow,
+ Sturnus Vulgarus, the European Starling."
+
+Powers sat down and stared at his friend. "Terran life by comparison
+with many other worlds is terribly tough because we have so many
+different environments, I suppose. Hence its use on Mureess. Of course,
+the Combine increased breeding rates again, but adapting that bat to
+stand cold was the last straw," he said. "The rest of them were all
+ready and waiting, but the bat was tropical. We'll start with him.
+Desmodus is a small flying mammal about...."
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Join Our Gang?, by Sterling E. Lanier
+
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