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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/32036-h.zip b/32036-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..39b54e4 --- /dev/null +++ b/32036-h.zip diff --git a/32036-h/32036-h.htm b/32036-h/32036-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c2edd9c --- /dev/null +++ b/32036-h/32036-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1737 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Unprotected Species, by Melvin Sturgis. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + +.linenum { + position: absolute; + top: auto; + left: 4%; +} /* poetry number */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.sidenote { + width: 20%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + +.bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + +.bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + +.br {border-right: solid 2px;} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Unprotected Species, by Melvin Sturgis + +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: The Unprotected Species + +Author: Melvin Sturgis + +Release Date: April 18, 2010 [EBook #32036] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE UNPROTECTED SPECIES *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<h1>The Unprotected Species</h1> + +<h2>By Melvin Sturgis</h2> + +<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Fantastic Universe +September 1956. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the +U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> + +<div class="sidenote">It was a chill, terrifying planet inhabited by furtive +gnomes. And something was forcing the crew into homicidal insanity. But +what?</div> + + +<p>Early on the first morning after the camp had been secured—scarcely +twenty-four hours after the first plastic shack had been erected—four +members of the surveying section brought in Bradshaw.</p> + +<p>Gallifa, the senior biologist of the party, was loading the halftrack in +preparation for a field trip when the men placed the stretcher in the +shade of the truck. He took one look; and immediately stopped +congratulating himself on the ease of operations.</p> + +<p>"Damn! Is he dead?" asked the stunned Gallifa.</p> + +<p>"He isn't dead," the mapping officer said lamely. "But he's damn well +beat up."</p> + +<p>Gallifa nodded awkwardly and looked down at the stretcher. Bradshaw was +one of his team. A good man. Gallifa hadn't known he wasn't in the +compound. Bradshaw wasn't a pleasant sight. Blood covered his face from +a deep gash above the temple, and his clothes and body were cut and +scratched in a dozen places.</p> + +<p>"Better get him over to the hospital," Gallifa ordered brusquely. "I'll +be along as soon as I can."</p> + +<p>The mapping officer gestured, and the men moved away with their burden. +The officer inspected the toes of his boots uncomfortably.</p> + +<p>"How did it happen?" Gallifa asked quietly. "I would say that he had +been clawed by some kind of animal."</p> + +<p>"That's possible," the other agreed unconvincingly. He licked his lips +nervously. "Of course, we are not sure just what did happen." He nodded +at a tall, sad-faced man standing almost at his elbow. "Hawkins spotted +him from the 'copter on his second recon flight this morning. He came +back and directed a crew to pick Bradshaw up."</p> + +<p>The officer's manner was hesitant and confusing. Gallifa started to +speak, then glanced questioningly at Hawkins and motioned impatiently.</p> + +<p>Hawkins cleared his throat. "I saw him almost as soon as I was in the +air. He was about half a mile on the other side of camp. I probably +wouldn't have paid any attention if he hadn't been acting so funny."</p> + +<p>Hawkins paused and glanced apologetically at Gallifa. Gallifa frowned.</p> + +<p>"You know how thick those brambles are all around here?" Hawkins +continued quickly. "Well, Bradshaw was running through them, just as if +something was chasing him. The thorns were cutting the clothes right off +his back. I couldn't see anything from the air, so I swung the 'copter +back and grabbed some men to see if we could find out what was wrong.</p> + +<p>"It took almost an hour to find him again. He was in the bottom of a +little ravine, leaning against a rock. He seemed to be all right until +we were close. Then he picked up a stick and started swinging it around +like a wild man. He was clear crazy. I finally had to hit him over the +head with a rock to save myself. He was true crazy."</p> + +<p>So that was what they had been so hesitant in telling him! Gallifa shook +his head in bewilderment. Bradshaw was one of his most competent men. It +didn't make sense that he suddenly should go berserk. Something seemed +to be missing in the report.</p> + +<p>"That doesn't sound right," Gallifa argued stubbornly. "Are you sure +Bradshaw wasn't scared half to death by something? A man sometimes does +some funny things if he's scared."</p> + +<p>"Maybe he <i>was</i> scared," Hawkins admitted. "But he was sure acting +crazy. I'm sorry—" He spread his hands helplessly and walked away, +accompanied by the mapping officer.</p> + +<p>Gallifa glanced at his wrist watch and swore softly to himself. He had +planned to get an early start, but the Bradshaw tragedy was too +important. They still knew relatively nothing about the planet. If a man +could wander around for only an hour or so and return with grievous, +unexplained injuries—Well, it obviously needed looking into.</p> + +<p>It would be difficult enough to finish the pre-colonization survey in +the allotted time under the best of circumstances, and this was hardly +what could be called a smooth beginning. He sighed and walked over to +the hospital.</p> + +<p>Dr. Thorndyke, a small, swarthy man with the penetrating gaze of his +profession, greeted him with a shrug and a puzzled frown.</p> + +<p>Gallifa framed the question with his eyes.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," the doctor said slowly. "Frankly, I've never seen +anything like this before. Your man seems to have lost his mind +completely, yet his reactions are at least pseudo-normal. He has an +intense homicidal mania, however. He regained consciousness unexpectedly +and almost brained two of my medics with a headboard before we could +give him a hypo. I don't know whether he'll improve or not. But I've +classified him unfit for further survey duty."</p> + +<p>Gallifa shook his head in disbelief. The doctor had told him exactly +nothing. He had intelligently diagnosed Bradshaw's condition, but he +apparently hadn't the slightest idea what had caused it. It was damned +strange. Bradshaw's psych check certainly hadn't hinted at any +instability. The initial spot check notwithstanding, maybe there <i>was</i> +something disturbingly wrong with this planet. If such were the case, +his team would have to uncover it. The problem would belong to Gallifa.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>II</h2> + + +<p>The planet—as yet unnamed—had been surveyed by the spotting cruiser +and pronounced suitable for colonization to nine-point-oh on a scale of +ten. Of course, the nine-point figure was really only a pro tem rating. +The cruiser hadn't been able to conduct a personal survey. That more +difficult undertaking would fall to the lot of the pre-col crew.</p> + +<p>By the time the balance of the colonists arrived, in forty-five days, +the survey party would have to have the initial focal point ready for +occupancy, and be in a position to supply all the data the colony would +need for survival.</p> + +<p>It was the biological team's specific job not only to classify the flora +and fauna of the planet, but to determine the adaptability of the +colonists to all existing conditions. Bradshaw might have encountered +something which would have helped tremendously with the latter category. +But it was obvious he wouldn't be able to tell anyone about it.</p> + +<p>However, an isolated tragic incident which held no bearing on the +success or failure of the colony could not be allowed to interrupt the +survey. Gallifa impatiently dismissed the gentle nagging at the back of +his mind and returned to the compound. By 1300, Solar Time, the camp was +considered to be on a standard operating basis.</p> + +<p>Gallifa pressed young Samuels into service and finished loading the +halftrack. While they were waiting for MacFarland, senior geologist and +acting executive of the camp, the natives of the planet appeared.</p> + +<p>Gallifa saw them first, and more from surprise than fear hopped to the +platform beside the truck seat and swiveled the automatic pellet rifle +until the muzzle covered the visitors.</p> + +<p>"Samuels," he called softly. "Hey, Samuels, we have a welcoming +committee."</p> + +<p>Samuels stopped his work and peered over the back of the truck. He was +well trained. He didn't move an inch.</p> + +<p>"Are they intelligent?" he asked. His view was curtailed slightly by a +tool box.</p> + +<p>"I can't tell," Gallifa said quietly. "They're clannish, though. There +must be fifteen, maybe twenty, in the group. Climb over the back of the +truck and take a look," he suggested.</p> + +<p>Samuels vaulted lightly into the truck.</p> + +<p>Gallifa looked quizzically at his aide. "Well, what do you make of +them?" he asked. "Do you think they could have anything to do with +Bradshaw's sudden crackup?"</p> + +<p>Samuels removed his hat and ran stubby fingers through his blond, +short-cropped hair. "It's hard to tell," he answered. "But they sure +look harmless to me. In fact, they look somewhat like a bunch of Celtic +little people."</p> + +<p>Gallifa frowned. He didn't understand.</p> + +<p>"You know," Samuels grinned. "Gnomes or elves with big ears. Large dwarf +model."</p> + +<p>Gallifa turned his attention back to the visitors and laughed. "I see +what you mean," he agreed. "Ears and all. They do seem harmless. But +it's strange they aren't upset by us. They could be semi-intelligent."</p> + +<p>Gallifa stepped gingerly from the truck. He really didn't expect to find +a modicum of intelligence. The spotting cruiser had orbited around the +planet for more than seventy-two hours before the crew had been +deposited, and had almost definitely established the contrary.</p> + +<p>On every Earth-type planet that had ever been discovered, if there were +intelligent life it had developed according to water-oxygen evolution; +and the culture invariably parallelled <i>homo sapiens</i>. It was as if a +busy and preoccupied nature had hit upon a pattern which worked and +never bothered to change the mold. There were minor deviations, of +course, biologically and structurally, but never culture-wise.</p> + +<p>The swift, but amazingly discerning survey, had revealed absolutely no +evidence of any intelligence on the planet. There were no artifacts, +dwellings, roads, dams, bridges—primitive or otherwise. Any stage of +culture would have been observed by the cruiser immediately. The planet +seemed ideally suited to colonization.</p> + +<p>Gallifa, the trained biologist, carefully studied the creatures. The +dwarf-like gnomes, as Samuels had dubbed them, might be considered +caricatures of humanity.</p> + +<p>They were about four feet high—bipeds, and covered with a soft, pinkish +fur. They walked erect; normally so, Gallifa could tell, because their +upper limbs were too short for knuckling and were not jointed correctly +for moving on all fours. They had five digited limbs, both upper and +lower, just as did all higher life forms ever discovered on any planet. +Their features were without hair and of a fairy story-humanoid type. +With their large, floppy ears, and round-solemn eyes they were very +unusual gnomes indeed.</p> + +<p>Gallifa spoke to them quietly, trying a few standard low-order +communication and classification tricks. The visitors—somehow he +couldn't think of them as base animals—made no response. They didn't +quite seem to fit any classification niche. The creatures faintly +puzzled Gallifa. The best he could do was: Low order intelligence and +probably harmless. Cultural development, nil.</p> + +<p>As if to prove his rationalizations, the creatures suddenly seemed to +ignore the humans. They walked unconcernedly past the truck and attacked +the vegetation on the edge of the clearing. Every so often one would +overturn a small rock and grub for the exposed insects.</p> + +<p>Gallifa observed their broad, dull teeth. They weren't, he decided, +omnivorous.</p> + +<p>Samuels interrupted his train of thought. "Do you think they will give +us any trouble?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No," Gallifa affirmed slowly. "Not materially, anyway. But it's going +to be interesting, and a little difficult, to study this species. They +don't seem to be ecologically feasible. Look at them. They are small and +weak. They don't have claws, not even sheathed—and they are definitely +too low in the evolutionary scale to know anything of weapons. Their +feet obviously aren't constructed for climbing, and their limbs are too +short and aren't planned right for running."</p> + +<p>He removed his hat and scratched his head. "In short," he finished, +"they are an unprotected species, obviously <i>unable</i> to protect +themselves."</p> + +<p>"That's odd enough," Samuels agreed. "But maybe they don't need +protection. Maybe they don't have any natural enemies."</p> + +<p>"On a raw planet?" Gallifa retorted. "That's not very likely."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I can catch a few for the lab," Samuels suggested. "I'll work +up a behavior pattern analysis."</p> + +<p>"That shouldn't be too hard," Gallifa said. "They certainly aren't +afraid of us. You do that," he added suddenly. "I'm going to pick up Mac +and be on my way. Otherwise, we'll never get out of here."</p> + +<p>"Good hunting," Samuels said. "I'll have a couple of these fat little +specimens neatly catalogued for you when you get back."</p> + +<p>Gallifa laughed and headed the truck across the compound.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>III</h2> + + +<p>Gallifa found MacFarland by the main-gate shack. He helped him secure a +manual excavating kit to the side of the truck, and then headed for a +hogback MacFarland had spotted from the early air photos.</p> + +<p>Gallifa jolted the truck up a rutted mound and braked close to a grove +of trees. They had covered roughly ten miles. Gallifa was still uneasy +about Bradshaw, but he had maintained an exceptionally sharp lookout and +had seen nothing which might be termed dangerous to a wary colonist. If +anything had harmed Bradshaw, the ground must have swallowed it.</p> + +<p>MacFarland shouldered his pack and stalked toward an outcropping rock +formation. Gallifa planned to work close to the truck in order to keep +in touch with the other crews who were on less personalized missions of +mass survey with highly sensitive instruments. That was the way, of +course, that most of the work would have to be done.</p> + +<p>A short time later MacFarland reappeared, red-faced and panting, and +with a bulging pack. Gallifa had activated the scanning scope and was +casually inspecting the terrain.</p> + +<p>"Finding anything of interest?" MacFarland grunted, after he had caught +his breath.</p> + +<p>"Nothing except a couple of those little creatures like the ones we saw +back in camp," Gallifa answered. At MacFarland's frown he remembered, +and filled in the details.</p> + +<p>"Want to take a look?" he asked.</p> + +<p>MacFarland shrugged out of the pack and clambered into the truck. He +expertly advanced the power of the scope and swung it in slow arcs.</p> + +<p>"I'll help with the pack," Gallifa volunteered.</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute!" MacFarland called excitedly. "Take a look at this."</p> + +<p>Gallifa frowned and glanced into the view screen. His jaw fell. He +leaned forward and swallowed hard. "That's an ugly looking beast," he +affirmed, with a grimace.</p> + +<p>"I thought the spotting cruiser said there weren't any dangerous animals +in the zone where we were supposed to land," MacFarland said +caustically. "I think we had better revise the theory—unless you want +me to believe the teeth on that thing are used for shredding lettuce."</p> + +<p>"No," Gallifa said. "It's a meat eater, all right. Either the cruiser +made a mistake, or—and this is more likely—the beast has wandered in +from a more natural habitat. You know, I believe it's after one of the +gnomes."</p> + +<p>MacFarland left the screen and swung the automatic rifle to bear on the +beast. He carefully adjusted the telescopic sights, centering the hair +lines on the target. There was a quiet whir and a slight shifting of the +rifle as the computer device allowed for correct elevation and windage.</p> + +<p>"I have the critter dead center," MacFarland said eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Don't shoot," Gallifa suddenly warned. "There is something awfully +peculiar about this. I'm positive our friend sees that fellow, but he +doesn't seem the least bit worried. Keep the rifle trained, but let's +watch a little longer. I'm interested in this."</p> + +<p>The gnome did seem aware that he was being stalked. Every so often he +stopped to peer over his shoulder where his adversary was in plain view. +Then he calmly went on feeding. He made no effort to flee or find +concealment.</p> + +<p>Gallifa watched in puzzlement. Was the creature really so stupid? It +wasn't logical. It just didn't make sense. How had the race survived?</p> + +<p>The pursuer tentatively crawled a few feet and stopped, its eyes +gleaming. It crawled a few more. It seemed to be appraising the distance +to be traversed. All at once it gathered its powerful legs snugly under +it. A quick rush and a spring ...</p> + +<p>The gnome suddenly stopped feeding and curled into a tight ball. The +charging beast seemed to be trying to change its course in mid-leap. It +landed almost on top of its prey, but it didn't strike. Instead, it +whirled, biting its shoulder and clawing spasmodically. Then it charged +headlong across the slope and disappeared in a cloud of dust.</p> + +<p>Back at the truck, Gallifa turned to MacFarland. "Did you shoot it?" he +asked with wide eyes.</p> + +<p>MacFarland shook his head.</p> + +<p>"The gnome just curled up like a porcupine," Gallifa said, frowning. +"And that's certainly no protection ... I wouldn't think. It doesn't +have spines or anything."</p> + +<p>"You're right," MacFarland answered. "I think the meat eater had a fit, +and it's a damn good thing for your friend Mr. Gnome, too!"</p> + +<p>"You may be right," Gallifa speculated slowly. "Only—You know, it's a +far-fetched thought, but maybe the gnomes throw out some scent that +stops their enemies cold."</p> + +<p>"It would have to be considerably potent," MacFarland snorted. "To cause +a fuss like that!"</p> + +<p>"Well," Gallifa affirmed with finality, "Samuels will have several +specimens for us back at the base. We will find out after we get back."</p> + +<p>"I just thought of something," MacFarland exclaimed suddenly. "Do you +think maybe that—that cat—or one like it, attacked Bradshaw? It may +have been the reason he ran through the brambles, figuring the beast +couldn't follow."</p> + +<p>"Hmm, I see what you mean," Gallifa replied thoughtfully. "The beast +<i>was</i> sort of catlike, and it <i>could</i> have roughed Bradshaw up some. +Only it doesn't seem logical that the experience could have driven him +to the type of mental breakdown he suffered. Still, it's as good a guess +as any, I suppose. Maybe Bradshaw will snap out of it and be able to +tell us himself."</p> + +<p>MacFarland glanced at the sky. "We'd better be getting back," he +suggested. "The other crews will be in, and we have a lot of data to +correlate tonight."</p> + +<p>Gallifa agreed and secured the rifle and scope. Before he could turn the +truck around, they heard the sound of a helijet approaching at maximum +speed. Gallifa shaded his eyes and looked at the now hovering craft.</p> + +<p>"I think it is Hawkins," he reported. "And I'd say offhand that he wants +to talk to us."</p> + +<p>The 'copter landed expertly a few feet away, and the blades slowed to +idling speed. It was Hawkins. He waved excitedly as he ran toward the +truck.</p> + +<p>"Mac! Gallifa!" he called. "There's a space ship down a few miles from +here!"</p> + +<p>Gallifa gasped. A wrecked ship? It seemed inconceivable. A space craft +wasn't dainty. Damage from a wreck should have been plainly visible even +from the spotting cruiser—ignoring completely their own air maps.</p> + +<p>He faced Hawkins. "Are you sure?" he asked incredulously. "How did we +ever miss the wreckage?"</p> + +<p>"The ship isn't wrecked," Hawkins said levelly. "It's in the same +condition that it was in when it landed."</p> + +<p>"It's not wrecked?" MacFarland repeated blankly. "Now who in hell—" He +turned to Gallifa. "I thought we were the first crew on the planet," he +said, almost accusingly. "It's very strange no one told us of any other +expedition."</p> + +<p>Gallifa frowned in annoyance. "We <i>are</i> the first. I'm sure of that. The +other ship must be a free-lance." He turned to Hawkins. "How about the +crew? Are they still with the ship?"</p> + +<p>"They're still with the ship," Hawkins said quietly. "But they're all +dead. It's quite a mess," he added simply.</p> + +<p>"A mess?" Gallifa echoed. "Could you tell how they died? Was it a +disease? Were they killed by some animals? Speak up, man!"</p> + +<p>"You aren't going to believe this," Hawkins said grimly. "But it sure +looks like they killed each other."</p> + +<p>"Why would they want to do that?" MacFarland protested. "Are you sure, +Hawkins? How could you tell, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"I could tell," Hawkins insisted. "You better come and have a look for +yourselves. I'll take you in the 'copter, then bring you back for the +truck."</p> + +<p>Gallifa shrugged, and the men joined Hawkins in the helijet. The mapping +man handled the controls, and the ship soared into the air.</p> + +<p>"There is something else kind of funny, too," Hawkins volunteered. "The +ship landed almost on top of a colony of the screwiest bunch of things +you ever saw. They look something like little gnomes, only with a +pinkish fur. They are all around the ship, but they haven't bothered +anything."</p> + +<p>"More gnomes," Gallifa told MacFarland. "I wonder if they're +ecologically basic?" He addressed Hawkins. "Gnomes are exactly what I +called them, but I'm quite sure there were never such gnomes on Earth. +What do you mean by colony? Like a village?"</p> + +<p>"No," Hawkins said slowly. "Not that. Maybe I don't mean colony. They +just sort of hang around and eat together. They don't have any +dwellings, or anything like that. At least, none that I could see," he +amended.</p> + +<p>Gallifa wasn't sure why he sighed with relief. At least his hypothesis +wasn't spoiled. They were clannish. But hell, rabbits were clannish. +Herd development wasn't anything more than instinct.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>IV</h2> + + +<p>The helijet suddenly swooped around and settled for a landing. It was +easy to see how the grounded ship had avoided detection. It was +camouflaged almost perfectly—although whether purposely or not wasn't +readily discernible.</p> + +<p>The space craft wasn't large. Gallifa estimated an eight-man crew, and +Hawkins proved him correct. He had found all of them at once. They had +been dead a long while; decomposition had been thorough. But Hawkins was +right. It did look as if they had killed themselves.</p> + +<p>They were scattered haphazardly around an irregular perimeter of the +ship, and no two of the bodies were close together. The positions of the +skeletons showed that they hadn't been molested by any wild animals—nor +had they been killed by any.</p> + +<p>But the strange thing—and this to Gallifa was also a senseless +thing—was the startling fact that each skeleton had a pellet pistol +still firmly clasped in its fleshless hand.</p> + +<p>The magazines of all the weapons were either completely discharged or +nearly so. Hence it was obvious that they had been firing at each other. +But why? If it had been a battle between two rival factions—in itself +incredible—Gallifa could have understood to some degree. But these men +were all alone. Each of them had obviously been against all the rest. No +matter how you looked at it, there wasn't any answer.</p> + +<p>MacFarland was hard to convince. "Maybe they didn't kill each other," he +insisted. "How do you know those creatures—gnomes, as you call +them—didn't attack the ship?"</p> + +<p>"If you had ever been close to a gnome," Gallifa answered wearily, +"you'd have your answer. I can't guess why, but these men killed +themselves, beyond any possible doubt."</p> + +<p>"Then they must have gone completely crazy," MacFarland said stubbornly. +"Every last one of them."</p> + +<p>Gallifa frowned as he remembered Bradshaw. Crazy? Could it be possible +that the crew of this ship had stumbled on something which had driven +them into insanity? Psychologically, Gallifa couldn't discount an idea +simply because it seemed impossible. A newly established colony was a +fragile thing.</p> + +<p>"While we are here," Gallifa said, "let's take a closer look at that +colony of gnomes. I think I noticed something from the air which doesn't +jibe with our first impression of them."</p> + +<p>The three men climbed a little hillock, and Gallifa carefully studied +the area in front of him. He finally shook his head in bafflement.</p> + +<p>"This is an unbelievably screwy planet. These creatures apparently +haven't reached any stage of development higher than the herd instinct, +and yet they are farming. It doesn't make any kind of sense. The species +is completely out of character."</p> + +<p>MacFarland looked at the virgin growth below him, and shook his head. +"That's a farm?" he asked sarcastically.</p> + +<p>Gallifa grinned. "You would have to be a biologist to catch on," he +explained. "See that yellowish bush? The one with the purple blossoms? +Now look at the area directly in front of us. Not a single bush. If you +will look carefully you will find several types of plant life which are +growing freely everywhere except in the area I showed you. The gnomes +are allowing only the plants they want to grow in the area.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps they aren't exactly <i>farming</i>," he elaborated. "That is, they +may not be planting anything in an orderly fashion. But they <i>are</i> +cultivating. And it all adds up to the same thing. They are increasing +an edible crop by eliminating—well, weeds. And if they can do that, +they should have a corresponding cultural development.</p> + +<p>"Another thing bothers me," Gallifa complained. "If these stupids are a +natural prey for animals, as unprotected as they are, I should think +they would live in some kind of thick brambles. That at least would give +them some measure of safety. I think the bio team is going to have more +than their share of headaches."</p> + +<p>"Let's work on it tomorrow," MacFarland suggested tiredly. "I want to +get back to camp."</p> + +<p>Hawkins returned them to the truck, and Gallifa and MacFarland jolted +off into the gathering dusk. It was fully dark by the time they reached +the camp.</p> + +<p>Gallifa checked his team, then gathered their various findings together +and sent them over to the Administration Building for further +evaluation. Samuels didn't check in with the rest. Gallifa assumed that +he was busy with the gnomes. He wanted to discuss the queer creatures +with him, and wandered over to the specimen shack. Samuels wasn't there. +Neither were any of the natives.</p> + +<p>Gallifa returned to the team shack and left a note on Samuel's bunk +telling him where he could be found. Then he went over to the +Administration Building to work with MacFarland. The next few hours he +and MacFarland were so busy sorting material and feeding it to the +analyzers that he forgot his aide.</p> + +<p>Finally Gallifa finished verifying the last of a huge stack of +photographs, and stuffed the important ones into a plastic envelope. He +added the date seal, initialed it, and handed it to one of the men to +take to the laboratory for micro-filming. Then he produced a battered +pipe and filled it with tobacco, slowly tamping the bowl with his +fingers.</p> + +<p>He had just about finished his smoke when the messenger returned to the +Administration Building. "—Gallifa," he began.</p> + +<p>Gallifa knew that something was wrong by the way the man hesitated. He +sprang up. "What's the matter?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Some of the boys ran into Samuels over on the edge of camp," the +messenger said miserably. "He was clear out of his head. He fought like +a tiger, and they had to tie him hand and foot to get him over to the +sick bay. The doctor wants you to come right over."</p> + +<p>Gallifa turned a white face to MacFarland. "What the devil," he said +woodenly. "Is my whole team going crazy?"</p> + +<p>MacFarland slipped into his field boots. "I'll go with you," he said.</p> + +<p>Outside a cold drizzle was falling, and from the way the leaden skies +were piling up, Gallifa was convinced that it would stay around for +several days. Evidently the weather boys had been right in predicting +that the planet was about to be plagued by a rainy season.</p> + +<p>As they drew near to the edge of camp, Cummings, the little, bald-headed +meteorologist of the weather group, burst out of the weather shack, +cursing soundly and waving a boot in one hand.</p> + +<p>"Damn those piebald dwarfs," he shouted. "They've got more brass than a +fire pole. They stole one of my boots."</p> + +<p>He threw the boot and disappeared around the corner. "Get out of here, +you little devils!"</p> + +<p>"The gnomes seem to have invaded the camp," MacFarland remarked. "We'll +have to take steps to chase them out. They might get into our stores."</p> + +<p>"Yeah," Gallifa nodded glumly. He was too upset with the problem of +Bradshaw and Samuels to worry about gnomes.</p> + +<p>From all indications Samuels had developed the same malady as Bradshaw. +The doctor pursed his lips and shrugged his shoulders. Thirty-three +hours on the planet and two men suddenly, violently insane! Did that +herald an epidemic, Gallifa wanted to know. Or could it simply be put +down to an unlucky coincidence? Could it be a disease or a virus?</p> + +<p>There were tests that might shed some light on the mystery, the doctor +admitted. But it would take time to apply them and reach any kind of +conclusion. Meanwhile, the work had to continue. The survey could not +wait.</p> + +<p>Samuels had been given a hypo and been moved to the ward with Bradshaw. +Gallifa walked past the ward corpsman and looked in the door. Bradshaw +was tossing fretfully in his sleep. Both he and Samuels were in +restraint jackets.</p> + +<p>Gallifa shuddered and swabbed a perspiring brow. The rain was making +everything muggy.</p> + +<p>He left MacFarland still talking to Dr. Thorndyke, and started +back—heading directly for the team shack. Gallifa was obviously +worried. He found himself wishing that he could somehow avoid telling +the rest of the crew about Samuels.</p> + +<p>Damn! Was the Bio team jinxed?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>V</h2> + + +<p>Gallifa kept close to the shacks in a futile effort to protect himself +from the rain, which was really driving now. A single light burned in +the Administration Building, but the rest of the compound was dark and +quiet.</p> + +<p>He skirted the deserted equipment building and paused for an instant in +the lee of a truck to light his pipe. There was a loud tinkle of glass, +and the windshield on the vehicle magically spouted a hole.</p> + +<p>Gallifa ducked instinctively and only just in time. The windshield +spouted a second hole—and then a third. A faint, bluish flash located +his attacker. It was uncomfortably close.</p> + +<p>Gallifa lashed out, and fell over a crouching figure. In a moment the +two men were thrashing in the mud. The unseen attacker was strong and he +fought like a maniac. But Gallifa was even stronger and his determined +anger quickly gave him the advantage. He wrested the pellet gun from the +other's grasp, and brought the butt down hard—brought it down twice. +The man slumped, and was still.</p> + +<p>Gallifa snapped on his wrist torch and played the tiny, luminous glow +over the sprawled figure. The man who had tried to kill him was +Cummings. Gallifa numbly wiped the mud from his pipe and lit it with a +flickering lighter. The flame made a weird, cameo-like oval of his gaunt +face, with the olive-toned skin of his ancestry stretched tightly across +the high cheekbones.</p> + +<p>Why? Bradshaw ... Samuels ... Cummings ...</p> + +<p>A pattern was forming. And it was forming with a viciousness and a +regularity which left little doubt as to the probable outcome.</p> + +<p>Did that pattern embrace the space ship with its ring of rain-washed +skeletons? Had they disintegrated under a pressure as relentless as the +swiftly-tightening jaws of a vise. <i>Something</i> was forcing normal men +into homicidal insanity. But what?</p> + +<p>Gallifa didn't know. But he did know that someone had better come up +with some answers—intelligent ones, and very much to the point. Or was +it already too late? Was the compound already infected—with each man +only waiting to be struck down?</p> + +<p>Gallifa draped the limp body of Cummings over his shoulder, and sloshed +his way back to the hospital. The doctor grimly made room in the ward +room for the new patient. While he was treating the gash in Gallifa's +cheek, MacFarland, Hawkins, and some of the early-rising camp cooks +brought in two more men from the weather group.</p> + +<p>Gallifa watched in tight-lipped silence as the corpsmen administered +hypos and set the new cots end to end in the already overcrowded +sickbay.</p> + +<p>"There were only two restraint jackets," Dr. Thorndyke said jerkily. +"We'll have to secure the rest of them to the bunks."</p> + +<p>MacFarland nodded. When he spoke, his voice was low and strained. "This +is getting out of hand. I think we'd better get everybody over to the +Administration Building as soon as possible."</p> + +<p>"All right," Gallifa said quietly. "Only—"</p> + +<p>"Only what?" MacFarland asked sharply.</p> + +<p>"What if everybody in camp isn't available," Gallifa said flatly. He +opened the door and stepped into the rain.</p> + +<p>The Administration Building was hot. The windows were steamed over, and +the men nearest to them had wiped clear spots with their hands, as if +they could not bear the thought of not being able to peer out into the +night.</p> + +<p>The room buzzed with a kind of orderly confusion. The men were scared +and they made no effort to conceal it. Gallifa studied a slip of paper +covered with tally marks, and then quickly stuffed it into his pocket.</p> + +<p>Ten men were now missing, not counting the ones already in the hospital. +They couldn't be accounted for, so it had to be assumed they were either +sick—or dead.</p> + +<p>It had been decided that Gallifa and Dr. Thorndyke were the best +qualified to take charge of the camp, until normality returned. Gallifa +studied the men carefully.</p> + +<p>"We haven't much to go on," he said with grim candor. "We're still in +the dark as to what is happening. We only know that when it takes place, +it happens damn fast—and without discrimination. Men have been affected +both in and out of camp.</p> + +<p>"So far, here are the facts. To the best of our knowledge none of the +men have been bitten by animals and we haven't found any poisonous +plants. Dr. Thorndyke is considering the possibility that some unknown +virus which affects the brain may be responsible. He's over in the +laboratory running tests now. If it is a virus, grouping together like +this might be a mistake. We'll load everybody up with antibiotics and +hope for the best. We've got to lick this!"</p> + +<p>"Until now," Gallifa continued grimly, "no one has been hurt except the +stricken men. We want to keep it that way. One fact stands out bluntly. +All of the men have been damned anti-social. They want to be left alone, +and will attempt to kill anyone who gets close to them. That should make +them easy to spot. If we are to have a chance to cure them, we have to +catch them first."</p> + +<p>"We are going to have to consider the likelihood that more of us will be +affected. We must do everything within our power to isolate those +suspiciously-acting persons. Probably the ship Mac and I discovered +didn't have the warning I am giving to you now. We can lick this thing +if we're determined enough. The main thing is not to lose your head. +Watch your neighbor, but don't jump to conclusions. Be sure before you +act."</p> + +<p>There was a stir and Gallifa paused. The doctor pushed his way through +the men to the front of the room. His face was white and haggard.</p> + +<p>"What about the tests?" Gallifa asked.</p> + +<p>"There aren't going to be any tests," Dr. Thorndyke replied grimly. "At +least not on the men in the hospital. They are all dead."</p> + +<p>"What happened?" Gallifa urged, his eyes wide with shock.</p> + +<p>Everyone was very quiet.</p> + +<p>The doctor wiped his hand across his forehead. "Nolan was on duty in the +wardroom. He went out for a smoke. I heard him go out. I didn't hear him +come back. I was setting up some new equipment. When I finally went back +to the ward Nolan must have caught—whatever it is. He was gone, and +he'd slit every man's throat with a scalpel."</p> + +<p>Gallifa faced the assemblage. "We're going to inoculate everyone here. +As soon as we're through, I want each team to go to their own shacks and +stay there. If you <i>have</i> to go somewhere, go in pairs. If you see +anyone wandering around by himself, no matter <i>who</i> he is, bang him over +the head with something and bring him over to the hospital. Otherwise, +stay put."</p> + +<p>The men received their shots in an uncomfortable silence and disappeared +into the night. Gallifa, MacFarland, and Dr. Thorndyke remained in the +Administration room.</p> + +<p>"Any idea what it is, doc?" MacFarland asked huskily.</p> + +<p>"I hardly had time to take care of the patients," Dr. Thorndyke replied +bitterly. "Did you honestly expect me to find out what was wrong with +them in a few short hours?"</p> + +<p>"But—" Gallifa began.</p> + +<p>MacFarland suddenly started, and leapt to his feet. The doctor moved +away, his face paling.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" Gallifa asked, alarmed.</p> + +<p>"Don't be so old womanish," MacFarland snapped. "I'm not catching it. I +just thought of something. Cummings had a gun. Where did he get it?"</p> + +<p>"The storeroom!" Gallifa exclaimed. "I'd forgotten we had weapons and +ammo in the storeroom! If things got bad enough, we <i>could</i> wipe +ourselves out. We'd better check."</p> + +<p>"I'm going back to the hospital," Dr. Thorndyke said bluntly. "I'm going +to lock the door. If anyone comes banging around he damn well had better +know who he is and talk intelligently—or I'll slice him from his +wishbone to his crotch." He stalked out.</p> + +<p>Gallifa stared blankly after Dr. Thorndyke. It was funny hearing him +talk this way. He had always thought of the doc as being rather +mild-mannered. Damned flexible, humans!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>VI</h2> + + +<p>They found the door was torn off the storeroom. It hadn't even been +secured. Someone had just been in a terrific hurry. There wasn't a +single weapon left. MacFarland studied the disarray, then thoughtfully +hefted a broad-bladed pick axe.</p> + +<p>"I'm of the opinion," he said quietly, "that in a short time things are +going to get a little rough around here."</p> + +<p>"Now wait a minute, Mac," Gallifa protested.</p> + +<p>"Sorry, boy," MacFarland said grimly. "If I knew everyone else was +barehanded, I would go along with you. I may not be the next victim—or +the tenth. I'll more than likely have to protect myself against someone +who has come down with it, however, and I've got an overwhelming desire +to stay alive."</p> + +<p>Gallifa let his hands drop helplessly to his sides. MacFarland was +right, of course. They hadn't acted soon enough. Was this how panic was +born?</p> + +<p>"Mac," Gallifa tried huskily. "We've got to keep our heads. If we don't, +we'll destroy ourselves."</p> + +<p>"I'm open to any suggestions," MacFarland said steadily. "But until I'm +satisfied that the danger is past, I'll just hang on to this axe."</p> + +<p>"Let's go back over to the hospital," Gallifa said wearily. "We'll use +Thorndyke's projector and go over every inch of micro-film we have. We +may be too close to the problem. There must be something we've +overlooked."</p> + +<p>Outside the rain had slackened into a fine mist. Overhead the clouds +still held, but they were somewhat lighter. In a short while, it would +be dawn. Every light in the compound was burning fiercely. Gallifa +suddenly remembered the generator in the shack behind the Administration +Building. If anyone smashed or damaged the generator beyond repair, the +camp would be without power of any kind. And they might be forced to +warn the colonists to stay away from the planet.</p> + +<p>He stopped MacFarland. "I think we better secure the door to the +generator shack," he said thoughtfully. "We can put a robot control on +the radio, but we have to insure power."</p> + +<p>MacFarland understood the reason immediately. But before he could answer +angry voices rang out somewhere across the compound.</p> + +<p>Gallifa hesitated. "You better see what that is," he told MacFarland. +"And I'll check the generator."</p> + +<p>MacFarland nodded and slipped away. Gallifa detoured around the hospital +and carefully approached the Administration Building. Once he saw +something moving in the half-light and halted abruptly. It was only a +few of the little gnomes moving through the camp.</p> + +<p>Gallifa quickly rummaged through the spare parts cache in the shack and +drove stout pegs into the door jamb and the door. Then he expertly wove +a short length of wire around the pegs and drew them tight with a pair +of wire nippers. He leaned a shoulder against the door until he was +satisfied it would hold. Then he returned to the hospital.</p> + +<p>MacFarland met him at the back entrance. The five corpses still lay +shackled to the bunks in a mute and grisly reminder of how quickly +deterioration had spread through the embryonic colony. Gallifa felt his +jaw muscles tighten.</p> + +<p>"The bio team stole all the weapons," MacFarland said without preamble. +"They've barricaded themselves in the mess hall and threaten to shoot +anyone who comes within ten feet of the door."</p> + +<p>Gallifa waited, his expression somber.</p> + +<p>"The other teams are mad clear through," MacFarland continued. "I +convinced them to go back to their own shacks, but I don't know how long +they will stay there."</p> + +<p>Gallifa nodded. "If the other teams decide to rush the mess hall—" He +let the sentence trail off and grimly began to sort the micro-film.</p> + +<p>A few hours later he had uncovered a series of very surprising—and +confusing—facts. He was amazed by the extent and completeness of the +data the teams and machines had assembled during their brief stay on the +planet. Gallifa closed his eyes and began to sift through the data with +the queer, persistent sixth sense of all true research men.</p> + +<p>The field of biology isn't limited. It begins just under the crust of a +planet, encompasses the surface, and extends ... as far as needs be. +Gallifa was a good biologist. And now he had a series of incredible +facts at his command. He thought he had the answer to the epidemic. Only +if he was on the right track—and he was almost sure of it—the cure +might be so simple that it would be no cure at all.</p> + +<p>How did you cure fear?</p> + +<p>MacFarland was dozing across the room. Gallifa suddenly realized how +tired he really was. Perhaps the doctor could give him a stimulant. In +any case, he wanted to discuss an idea with Dr. Thorndyke. He stood up +and gathered together the papers lying scattered on the desk.</p> + +<p>MacFarland was immediately awake. He held the axe loosely in one big +hand, but a slight tensing of the muscles in his forearm denoted his +readiness to use the weapon.</p> + +<p>Gallifa noticed only that MacFarland was awake. He gestured vaguely and +walked through the room to the doctor's office.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Thorndyke!" Gallifa called.</p> + +<p>"Eh!" The doctor was startled. He walked quickly over to a wall cabinet +and busied himself with an electronic sterilizer. When he turned he was +holding a short-barreled, hair-thin hypodermic jet.</p> + +<p>"I've been hoping you'd come by," he said. "That cut in your cheek. You +should have had a tetanus shot."</p> + +<p>Gallifa automatically bared an arm and leaned on the table. The doctor +held the needle up to the light and exerted a minute pressure on the +plunger. He reached for Gallifa's arm.</p> + +<p>MacFarland was across the room in five quick strides. He hit the doctor +across the side of the head with the broad blade of the axe. Dr. +Thorndyke sighed and collapsed loosely on the floor. The point of the +dropped hypodermic shattered and a milky fluid oozed from the splintered +end.</p> + +<p>Gallifa's reflexes were slow. For a long moment he stood as though +stunned. Then shock caught at him. But the slow-motion time which +gripped him wouldn't allow him to take more than two steps before the +axe in MacFarland's big hand would come crashing down. He wished he +could have activated the transmitter before it happened. Dazed, he +wondered who would warn the colonists?</p> + +<p>Gallifa suddenly realized he had placed the portable operating table +between himself and the other man. He drew his first breath, and it +caught in his throat. Then he was through the door and running across +the compound. He stumbled towards the equipment shack and threw himself +in the back of a truck.</p> + +<p>MacFarland didn't follow.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>VII</h2> + + +<p>Gallifa rubbed his aching eyes and rested. How many hours had passed +since he had slept or eaten? It was fully light now, although the dawn +sky was gray because of the clouds. A strong wind pulled at his hair, +and the first heavy drops of another rainstorm pelted against his face. +Gallifa moved under the half-top canvas and wished for a slicker. The +rain was cold.</p> + +<p>The crackle of small arms brought Gallifa to the edge of the truck. He +hadn't realized how still the camp really was. The tension was a live +thing, coiled in the wet air. There was no doubt the firing came from +the mess hall. The bio team had all of the weapons.</p> + +<p>Gallifa was sure he could stop the panic if he could contact the men. If +only they weren't so scattered. He had to try. He gave another quick +look at the hospital door, then sped around the Administration Building.</p> + +<p>Something hit him from the side and hurled him joltingly to the sharp +gravel. Gallifa rolled to a fighting crouch, dimly realizing that his +right arm was almost paralyzed. He shook his head hard against the pain. +The man was Nolan—and he was the most frightened man Gallifa had ever +seen.</p> + +<p>His face was convulsed with such abject terror that Gallifa was stunned. +He was like an animal at bay, with all moving life his enemy. Gallifa +remained perfectly still, his eyes on the surgeon's scalpel in Nolan's +hand. Then from the mess hall came another rattle of fire.</p> + +<p>Gallifa couldn't help jumping. Nolan drew his tight lips away from his +teeth and gestured menacingly with the scalpel. Then a beefy arm +appeared from nowhere and struck the corpsman a chopping blow at the +base of the skull. He dropped the scalpel and fell silently to the +ground.</p> + +<p>MacFarland stepped around the corner of the building.</p> + +<p>Gallifa tried to rise, then gave way to the weakness of his limbs. The +ground spun crazily past his face and he passed out.</p> + +<p>"Gallifa! Snap out of it! Wake up, boy!"</p> + +<p>Rough hands were shaking him. He opened his eyes.</p> + +<p>"I didn't kill Doc," MacFarland said quietly. "There wasn't time to +explain. I had to act fast. He had enough knockout juice in that needle +to put you away permanently."</p> + +<p>Gallifa searched the other man's face. Then, slowly the tension went out +of his features. "I heard shots?"</p> + +<p>"Your boys took a few shots at me," MacFarland admitted. "I guess they +thought I was rushing them."</p> + +<p>Gallifa stared at Nolan. "We've got to contact the men before it's too +late," he said. "I know what caused the epidemic—and how to stop it. +Anyway, temporarily. If I can only find some way to get them to +listen."</p> + +<p>MacFarland said: "We'll find a way. Tell me about it."</p> + +<p>"There's nothing wrong with this camp now but fear," Gallifa continued +wearily. "Or the <i>fear</i> of fear. There wasn't any epidemic. It was the +gnomes. It's all here in the micro-film."</p> + +<p>MacFarland stared blankly.</p> + +<p>"You know how we survey?" Gallifa said quickly. "We send out low-flying +'copters and track the neural waves from all animal life. Later on, +after we pick up some specimens, all the neural patterns on the tapes +are matched. Otherwise, we wouldn't know one from the other. This +information, along with other data, is fed to the analyzers and we get +an excellent idea of the type and distribution of all life in a given +area. The boys did a good job with the 'copters. They covered enough +territory to provide all the data we need at present."</p> + +<p>"So?" MacFarland asked.</p> + +<p>"Somehow," Gallifa went on, "Samuels managed to get a neural trace from +the natives before he went insane. It's right here in his report. And +the trace matches perfectly with some of the patterns taken from the +'copters. When I fed the patterns to the analyzers, I got some damned +strange results. The analyzers classified the gnomes as an oversized +form of rodent, somewhat similar to rabbits and rats. This I suspected. +What I hadn't suspected was that their neural wave was so strong it +could be projected as a physical impulse."</p> + +<p>"I still don't see—" interjected MacFarland.</p> + +<p>"It's simple," Gallifa said. "The natives are <i>mental skunks</i>. I don't +know how they do it. Maybe we can't even find out. But I can guess how +it works. The creatures transmit a neural charge as real as an electric +current. We don't yet know the range, but we've already seen it in +action."</p> + +<p>"The cat!" MacFarland said.</p> + +<p>Gallifa nodded. "The 'copter survey showed that where the instruments +located gnomes, there was very little other animal life in a wide area. +Their charge may be deadly to a non-reasoning animal if it is exposed +more than a few moments. To a human it isn't deadly, but it's +devastating. The charge must hurt the mind so badly that it defends +itself with the only bit of reasoning left. Kill or be killed. That's +why our men turned homicidal."</p> + +<p>"If this is true," MacFarland said soberly, "can we do anything about +it? Can we destroy these creatures?"</p> + +<p>"We can probably destroy them," Gallifa said slowly. "But remember the +rabbits in Australia? The gnomes are ecologically basic. They are by far +the most numerous animal in this area."</p> + +<p>"Meaning," said MacFarland, "that if we killed them off here, they would +swarm in from somewhere else? That will mean a running battle."</p> + +<p>Gallifa smiled grimly at MacFarland's use of the future tense. "We may +have to live with them for awhile. But our immediate problem is how to +convince the men that we can solve the present crisis—while we still +have time."</p> + +<p>"You'd never dare approach the mess hall," MacFarland warned.</p> + +<p>The camp waited, wound up to the breaking point. Along about the middle +of the afternoon, maybe before, all hell was going to bust loose. Unless +he could stop it.</p> + +<p>He suddenly grabbed MacFarland's arm. "Mac!" he asked eagerly. "The +generator. Do you know if it's still working?"</p> + +<p>A look of understanding crossed MacFarland's face. "The bull horn. Of +course! Everyone in camp can hear the bull horn."</p> + +<p>They made it past the mess hall without drawing any fire. A few moments +later the resonant voice of the loudspeaker was booming across the camp. +Gallifa spoke slowly, methodically, trying to convince and reassure. He +paused, then once more repeated the plea.</p> + +<p>He almost gave up. Then slowly the mapping gang edged into the open and +filed toward the Administration room. Finally the bio team left the mess +hall, and Gallifa let the heavy horn drop. What now? The present +nightmare was almost over, but what of the future?</p> + +<p>"We will be able to control the gnomes locally," MacFarland said, +seeming almost to guess his thoughts. "As we expand, they will have to +give."</p> + +<p>"Maybe," Gallifa said. "But just because they are rodents. Don't +underestimate their possibilities.</p> + +<p>"The creatures of this planet have never been pressed. Nothing has been +able to push them up the evolutionary ladder. We'll be the toughest +environment they've ever faced, for we know the power of their defensive +mechanism. How well will we be able to compete if they learn to use it +as an offensive weapon?"</p> + +<p>"We can't," MacFarland said.</p> + +<p>"We know it's selective," Gallifa corrected. "They didn't bother either +Samuels or myself when we first contacted them. We also know all of the +stricken men weren't actively molesting gnomes. Therefore, some were hit +due to the actions of others. The only question is—how selective is +their power?"</p> + +<p>"Then how <i>can</i> we handle them?" MacFarland questioned soberly.</p> + +<p>Gallifa shrugged. "I don't know," he said simply. "We're committed here, +and we'll stay. This isn't the first time the human race has been +challenged—it won't be the last."</p> + +<p>Gallifa turned and walked toward the Administration Building. Humans had +solved a hundred problems on a hundred planets. Problems existed to be +solved. This one, too, would be solved. But no matter how hard or how +easy, it would be an experiment.</p> + +<p>As all humanity was an experiment.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<blockquote><p><i>Melvin Sturgis is a mechanical engineer employed by</i> +ROCKETDYNE, <i>Propulsion field laboratory—a division of North American +Aviation, Inc. Like many another brilliant young technician with an +extra-curricular, electronic string to his bow he has also been a +free-lance magazine writer for the past five years. We think you'll +agree he has scored heavily here, on the planet of a far-off star!</i></p></blockquote> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Unprotected Species, by Melvin Sturgis + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE UNPROTECTED SPECIES *** + +***** This file should be named 32036-h.htm or 32036-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/0/3/32036/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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: The Unprotected Species + +Author: Melvin Sturgis + +Release Date: April 18, 2010 [EBook #32036] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE UNPROTECTED SPECIES *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + The Unprotected Species + + By Melvin Sturgis[1] + +[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Fantastic Universe +September 1956. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the +U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] + +[Sidenote: It was a chill, terrifying planet inhabited by furtive +gnomes. And something was forcing the crew into homicidal insanity. But +what?] + + +Early on the first morning after the camp had been secured--scarcely +twenty-four hours after the first plastic shack had been erected--four +members of the surveying section brought in Bradshaw. + +Gallifa, the senior biologist of the party, was loading the halftrack in +preparation for a field trip when the men placed the stretcher in the +shade of the truck. He took one look; and immediately stopped +congratulating himself on the ease of operations. + +"Damn! Is he dead?" asked the stunned Gallifa. + +"He isn't dead," the mapping officer said lamely. "But he's damn well +beat up." + +Gallifa nodded awkwardly and looked down at the stretcher. Bradshaw was +one of his team. A good man. Gallifa hadn't known he wasn't in the +compound. Bradshaw wasn't a pleasant sight. Blood covered his face from +a deep gash above the temple, and his clothes and body were cut and +scratched in a dozen places. + +"Better get him over to the hospital," Gallifa ordered brusquely. "I'll +be along as soon as I can." + +The mapping officer gestured, and the men moved away with their burden. +The officer inspected the toes of his boots uncomfortably. + +"How did it happen?" Gallifa asked quietly. "I would say that he had +been clawed by some kind of animal." + +"That's possible," the other agreed unconvincingly. He licked his lips +nervously. "Of course, we are not sure just what did happen." He nodded +at a tall, sad-faced man standing almost at his elbow. "Hawkins spotted +him from the 'copter on his second recon flight this morning. He came +back and directed a crew to pick Bradshaw up." + +The officer's manner was hesitant and confusing. Gallifa started to +speak, then glanced questioningly at Hawkins and motioned impatiently. + +Hawkins cleared his throat. "I saw him almost as soon as I was in the +air. He was about half a mile on the other side of camp. I probably +wouldn't have paid any attention if he hadn't been acting so funny." + +Hawkins paused and glanced apologetically at Gallifa. Gallifa frowned. + +"You know how thick those brambles are all around here?" Hawkins +continued quickly. "Well, Bradshaw was running through them, just as if +something was chasing him. The thorns were cutting the clothes right off +his back. I couldn't see anything from the air, so I swung the 'copter +back and grabbed some men to see if we could find out what was wrong. + +"It took almost an hour to find him again. He was in the bottom of a +little ravine, leaning against a rock. He seemed to be all right until +we were close. Then he picked up a stick and started swinging it around +like a wild man. He was clear crazy. I finally had to hit him over the +head with a rock to save myself. He was true crazy." + +So that was what they had been so hesitant in telling him! Gallifa shook +his head in bewilderment. Bradshaw was one of his most competent men. It +didn't make sense that he suddenly should go berserk. Something seemed +to be missing in the report. + +"That doesn't sound right," Gallifa argued stubbornly. "Are you sure +Bradshaw wasn't scared half to death by something? A man sometimes does +some funny things if he's scared." + +"Maybe he _was_ scared," Hawkins admitted. "But he was sure acting +crazy. I'm sorry--" He spread his hands helplessly and walked away, +accompanied by the mapping officer. + +Gallifa glanced at his wrist watch and swore softly to himself. He had +planned to get an early start, but the Bradshaw tragedy was too +important. They still knew relatively nothing about the planet. If a man +could wander around for only an hour or so and return with grievous, +unexplained injuries--Well, it obviously needed looking into. + +It would be difficult enough to finish the pre-colonization survey in +the allotted time under the best of circumstances, and this was hardly +what could be called a smooth beginning. He sighed and walked over to +the hospital. + +Dr. Thorndyke, a small, swarthy man with the penetrating gaze of his +profession, greeted him with a shrug and a puzzled frown. + +Gallifa framed the question with his eyes. + +"I don't know," the doctor said slowly. "Frankly, I've never seen +anything like this before. Your man seems to have lost his mind +completely, yet his reactions are at least pseudo-normal. He has an +intense homicidal mania, however. He regained consciousness unexpectedly +and almost brained two of my medics with a headboard before we could +give him a hypo. I don't know whether he'll improve or not. But I've +classified him unfit for further survey duty." + +Gallifa shook his head in disbelief. The doctor had told him exactly +nothing. He had intelligently diagnosed Bradshaw's condition, but he +apparently hadn't the slightest idea what had caused it. It was damned +strange. Bradshaw's psych check certainly hadn't hinted at any +instability. The initial spot check notwithstanding, maybe there _was_ +something disturbingly wrong with this planet. If such were the case, +his team would have to uncover it. The problem would belong to Gallifa. + + + + +II + + +The planet--as yet unnamed--had been surveyed by the spotting cruiser +and pronounced suitable for colonization to nine-point-oh on a scale of +ten. Of course, the nine-point figure was really only a pro tem rating. +The cruiser hadn't been able to conduct a personal survey. That more +difficult undertaking would fall to the lot of the pre-col crew. + +By the time the balance of the colonists arrived, in forty-five days, +the survey party would have to have the initial focal point ready for +occupancy, and be in a position to supply all the data the colony would +need for survival. + +It was the biological team's specific job not only to classify the flora +and fauna of the planet, but to determine the adaptability of the +colonists to all existing conditions. Bradshaw might have encountered +something which would have helped tremendously with the latter category. +But it was obvious he wouldn't be able to tell anyone about it. + +However, an isolated tragic incident which held no bearing on the +success or failure of the colony could not be allowed to interrupt the +survey. Gallifa impatiently dismissed the gentle nagging at the back of +his mind and returned to the compound. By 1300, Solar Time, the camp was +considered to be on a standard operating basis. + +Gallifa pressed young Samuels into service and finished loading the +halftrack. While they were waiting for MacFarland, senior geologist and +acting executive of the camp, the natives of the planet appeared. + +Gallifa saw them first, and more from surprise than fear hopped to the +platform beside the truck seat and swiveled the automatic pellet rifle +until the muzzle covered the visitors. + +"Samuels," he called softly. "Hey, Samuels, we have a welcoming +committee." + +Samuels stopped his work and peered over the back of the truck. He was +well trained. He didn't move an inch. + +"Are they intelligent?" he asked. His view was curtailed slightly by a +tool box. + +"I can't tell," Gallifa said quietly. "They're clannish, though. There +must be fifteen, maybe twenty, in the group. Climb over the back of the +truck and take a look," he suggested. + +Samuels vaulted lightly into the truck. + +Gallifa looked quizzically at his aide. "Well, what do you make of +them?" he asked. "Do you think they could have anything to do with +Bradshaw's sudden crackup?" + +Samuels removed his hat and ran stubby fingers through his blond, +short-cropped hair. "It's hard to tell," he answered. "But they sure +look harmless to me. In fact, they look somewhat like a bunch of Celtic +little people." + +Gallifa frowned. He didn't understand. + +"You know," Samuels grinned. "Gnomes or elves with big ears. Large dwarf +model." + +Gallifa turned his attention back to the visitors and laughed. "I see +what you mean," he agreed. "Ears and all. They do seem harmless. But +it's strange they aren't upset by us. They could be semi-intelligent." + +Gallifa stepped gingerly from the truck. He really didn't expect to find +a modicum of intelligence. The spotting cruiser had orbited around the +planet for more than seventy-two hours before the crew had been +deposited, and had almost definitely established the contrary. + +On every Earth-type planet that had ever been discovered, if there were +intelligent life it had developed according to water-oxygen evolution; +and the culture invariably parallelled _homo sapiens_. It was as if a +busy and preoccupied nature had hit upon a pattern which worked and +never bothered to change the mold. There were minor deviations, of +course, biologically and structurally, but never culture-wise. + +The swift, but amazingly discerning survey, had revealed absolutely no +evidence of any intelligence on the planet. There were no artifacts, +dwellings, roads, dams, bridges--primitive or otherwise. Any stage of +culture would have been observed by the cruiser immediately. The planet +seemed ideally suited to colonization. + +Gallifa, the trained biologist, carefully studied the creatures. The +dwarf-like gnomes, as Samuels had dubbed them, might be considered +caricatures of humanity. + +They were about four feet high--bipeds, and covered with a soft, pinkish +fur. They walked erect; normally so, Gallifa could tell, because their +upper limbs were too short for knuckling and were not jointed correctly +for moving on all fours. They had five digited limbs, both upper and +lower, just as did all higher life forms ever discovered on any planet. +Their features were without hair and of a fairy story-humanoid type. +With their large, floppy ears, and round-solemn eyes they were very +unusual gnomes indeed. + +Gallifa spoke to them quietly, trying a few standard low-order +communication and classification tricks. The visitors--somehow he +couldn't think of them as base animals--made no response. They didn't +quite seem to fit any classification niche. The creatures faintly +puzzled Gallifa. The best he could do was: Low order intelligence and +probably harmless. Cultural development, nil. + +As if to prove his rationalizations, the creatures suddenly seemed to +ignore the humans. They walked unconcernedly past the truck and attacked +the vegetation on the edge of the clearing. Every so often one would +overturn a small rock and grub for the exposed insects. + +Gallifa observed their broad, dull teeth. They weren't, he decided, +omnivorous. + +Samuels interrupted his train of thought. "Do you think they will give +us any trouble?" he asked. + +"No," Gallifa affirmed slowly. "Not materially, anyway. But it's going +to be interesting, and a little difficult, to study this species. They +don't seem to be ecologically feasible. Look at them. They are small and +weak. They don't have claws, not even sheathed--and they are definitely +too low in the evolutionary scale to know anything of weapons. Their +feet obviously aren't constructed for climbing, and their limbs are too +short and aren't planned right for running." + +He removed his hat and scratched his head. "In short," he finished, +"they are an unprotected species, obviously _unable_ to protect +themselves." + +"That's odd enough," Samuels agreed. "But maybe they don't need +protection. Maybe they don't have any natural enemies." + +"On a raw planet?" Gallifa retorted. "That's not very likely." + +"Perhaps I can catch a few for the lab," Samuels suggested. "I'll work +up a behavior pattern analysis." + +"That shouldn't be too hard," Gallifa said. "They certainly aren't +afraid of us. You do that," he added suddenly. "I'm going to pick up Mac +and be on my way. Otherwise, we'll never get out of here." + +"Good hunting," Samuels said. "I'll have a couple of these fat little +specimens neatly catalogued for you when you get back." + +Gallifa laughed and headed the truck across the compound. + + + + +III + + +Gallifa found MacFarland by the main-gate shack. He helped him secure a +manual excavating kit to the side of the truck, and then headed for a +hogback MacFarland had spotted from the early air photos. + +Gallifa jolted the truck up a rutted mound and braked close to a grove +of trees. They had covered roughly ten miles. Gallifa was still uneasy +about Bradshaw, but he had maintained an exceptionally sharp lookout and +had seen nothing which might be termed dangerous to a wary colonist. If +anything had harmed Bradshaw, the ground must have swallowed it. + +MacFarland shouldered his pack and stalked toward an outcropping rock +formation. Gallifa planned to work close to the truck in order to keep +in touch with the other crews who were on less personalized missions of +mass survey with highly sensitive instruments. That was the way, of +course, that most of the work would have to be done. + +A short time later MacFarland reappeared, red-faced and panting, and +with a bulging pack. Gallifa had activated the scanning scope and was +casually inspecting the terrain. + +"Finding anything of interest?" MacFarland grunted, after he had caught +his breath. + +"Nothing except a couple of those little creatures like the ones we saw +back in camp," Gallifa answered. At MacFarland's frown he remembered, +and filled in the details. + +"Want to take a look?" he asked. + +MacFarland shrugged out of the pack and clambered into the truck. He +expertly advanced the power of the scope and swung it in slow arcs. + +"I'll help with the pack," Gallifa volunteered. + +"Wait a minute!" MacFarland called excitedly. "Take a look at this." + +Gallifa frowned and glanced into the view screen. His jaw fell. He +leaned forward and swallowed hard. "That's an ugly looking beast," he +affirmed, with a grimace. + +"I thought the spotting cruiser said there weren't any dangerous animals +in the zone where we were supposed to land," MacFarland said +caustically. "I think we had better revise the theory--unless you want +me to believe the teeth on that thing are used for shredding lettuce." + +"No," Gallifa said. "It's a meat eater, all right. Either the cruiser +made a mistake, or--and this is more likely--the beast has wandered in +from a more natural habitat. You know, I believe it's after one of the +gnomes." + +MacFarland left the screen and swung the automatic rifle to bear on the +beast. He carefully adjusted the telescopic sights, centering the hair +lines on the target. There was a quiet whir and a slight shifting of the +rifle as the computer device allowed for correct elevation and windage. + +"I have the critter dead center," MacFarland said eagerly. + +"Don't shoot," Gallifa suddenly warned. "There is something awfully +peculiar about this. I'm positive our friend sees that fellow, but he +doesn't seem the least bit worried. Keep the rifle trained, but let's +watch a little longer. I'm interested in this." + +The gnome did seem aware that he was being stalked. Every so often he +stopped to peer over his shoulder where his adversary was in plain view. +Then he calmly went on feeding. He made no effort to flee or find +concealment. + +Gallifa watched in puzzlement. Was the creature really so stupid? It +wasn't logical. It just didn't make sense. How had the race survived? + +The pursuer tentatively crawled a few feet and stopped, its eyes +gleaming. It crawled a few more. It seemed to be appraising the distance +to be traversed. All at once it gathered its powerful legs snugly under +it. A quick rush and a spring ... + +The gnome suddenly stopped feeding and curled into a tight ball. The +charging beast seemed to be trying to change its course in mid-leap. It +landed almost on top of its prey, but it didn't strike. Instead, it +whirled, biting its shoulder and clawing spasmodically. Then it charged +headlong across the slope and disappeared in a cloud of dust. + +Back at the truck, Gallifa turned to MacFarland. "Did you shoot it?" he +asked with wide eyes. + +MacFarland shook his head. + +"The gnome just curled up like a porcupine," Gallifa said, frowning. +"And that's certainly no protection ... I wouldn't think. It doesn't +have spines or anything." + +"You're right," MacFarland answered. "I think the meat eater had a fit, +and it's a damn good thing for your friend Mr. Gnome, too!" + +"You may be right," Gallifa speculated slowly. "Only--You know, it's a +far-fetched thought, but maybe the gnomes throw out some scent that +stops their enemies cold." + +"It would have to be considerably potent," MacFarland snorted. "To cause +a fuss like that!" + +"Well," Gallifa affirmed with finality, "Samuels will have several +specimens for us back at the base. We will find out after we get back." + +"I just thought of something," MacFarland exclaimed suddenly. "Do you +think maybe that--that cat--or one like it, attacked Bradshaw? It may +have been the reason he ran through the brambles, figuring the beast +couldn't follow." + +"Hmm, I see what you mean," Gallifa replied thoughtfully. "The beast +_was_ sort of catlike, and it _could_ have roughed Bradshaw up some. +Only it doesn't seem logical that the experience could have driven him +to the type of mental breakdown he suffered. Still, it's as good a guess +as any, I suppose. Maybe Bradshaw will snap out of it and be able to +tell us himself." + +MacFarland glanced at the sky. "We'd better be getting back," he +suggested. "The other crews will be in, and we have a lot of data to +correlate tonight." + +Gallifa agreed and secured the rifle and scope. Before he could turn the +truck around, they heard the sound of a helijet approaching at maximum +speed. Gallifa shaded his eyes and looked at the now hovering craft. + +"I think it is Hawkins," he reported. "And I'd say offhand that he wants +to talk to us." + +The 'copter landed expertly a few feet away, and the blades slowed to +idling speed. It was Hawkins. He waved excitedly as he ran toward the +truck. + +"Mac! Gallifa!" he called. "There's a space ship down a few miles from +here!" + +Gallifa gasped. A wrecked ship? It seemed inconceivable. A space craft +wasn't dainty. Damage from a wreck should have been plainly visible even +from the spotting cruiser--ignoring completely their own air maps. + +He faced Hawkins. "Are you sure?" he asked incredulously. "How did we +ever miss the wreckage?" + +"The ship isn't wrecked," Hawkins said levelly. "It's in the same +condition that it was in when it landed." + +"It's not wrecked?" MacFarland repeated blankly. "Now who in hell--" He +turned to Gallifa. "I thought we were the first crew on the planet," he +said, almost accusingly. "It's very strange no one told us of any other +expedition." + +Gallifa frowned in annoyance. "We _are_ the first. I'm sure of that. The +other ship must be a free-lance." He turned to Hawkins. "How about the +crew? Are they still with the ship?" + +"They're still with the ship," Hawkins said quietly. "But they're all +dead. It's quite a mess," he added simply. + +"A mess?" Gallifa echoed. "Could you tell how they died? Was it a +disease? Were they killed by some animals? Speak up, man!" + +"You aren't going to believe this," Hawkins said grimly. "But it sure +looks like they killed each other." + +"Why would they want to do that?" MacFarland protested. "Are you sure, +Hawkins? How could you tell, anyway?" + +"I could tell," Hawkins insisted. "You better come and have a look for +yourselves. I'll take you in the 'copter, then bring you back for the +truck." + +Gallifa shrugged, and the men joined Hawkins in the helijet. The mapping +man handled the controls, and the ship soared into the air. + +"There is something else kind of funny, too," Hawkins volunteered. "The +ship landed almost on top of a colony of the screwiest bunch of things +you ever saw. They look something like little gnomes, only with a +pinkish fur. They are all around the ship, but they haven't bothered +anything." + +"More gnomes," Gallifa told MacFarland. "I wonder if they're +ecologically basic?" He addressed Hawkins. "Gnomes are exactly what I +called them, but I'm quite sure there were never such gnomes on Earth. +What do you mean by colony? Like a village?" + +"No," Hawkins said slowly. "Not that. Maybe I don't mean colony. They +just sort of hang around and eat together. They don't have any +dwellings, or anything like that. At least, none that I could see," he +amended. + +Gallifa wasn't sure why he sighed with relief. At least his hypothesis +wasn't spoiled. They were clannish. But hell, rabbits were clannish. +Herd development wasn't anything more than instinct. + + + + +IV + + +The helijet suddenly swooped around and settled for a landing. It was +easy to see how the grounded ship had avoided detection. It was +camouflaged almost perfectly--although whether purposely or not wasn't +readily discernible. + +The space craft wasn't large. Gallifa estimated an eight-man crew, and +Hawkins proved him correct. He had found all of them at once. They had +been dead a long while; decomposition had been thorough. But Hawkins was +right. It did look as if they had killed themselves. + +They were scattered haphazardly around an irregular perimeter of the +ship, and no two of the bodies were close together. The positions of the +skeletons showed that they hadn't been molested by any wild animals--nor +had they been killed by any. + +But the strange thing--and this to Gallifa was also a senseless +thing--was the startling fact that each skeleton had a pellet pistol +still firmly clasped in its fleshless hand. + +The magazines of all the weapons were either completely discharged or +nearly so. Hence it was obvious that they had been firing at each other. +But why? If it had been a battle between two rival factions--in itself +incredible--Gallifa could have understood to some degree. But these men +were all alone. Each of them had obviously been against all the rest. No +matter how you looked at it, there wasn't any answer. + +MacFarland was hard to convince. "Maybe they didn't kill each other," he +insisted. "How do you know those creatures--gnomes, as you call +them--didn't attack the ship?" + +"If you had ever been close to a gnome," Gallifa answered wearily, +"you'd have your answer. I can't guess why, but these men killed +themselves, beyond any possible doubt." + +"Then they must have gone completely crazy," MacFarland said stubbornly. +"Every last one of them." + +Gallifa frowned as he remembered Bradshaw. Crazy? Could it be possible +that the crew of this ship had stumbled on something which had driven +them into insanity? Psychologically, Gallifa couldn't discount an idea +simply because it seemed impossible. A newly established colony was a +fragile thing. + +"While we are here," Gallifa said, "let's take a closer look at that +colony of gnomes. I think I noticed something from the air which doesn't +jibe with our first impression of them." + +The three men climbed a little hillock, and Gallifa carefully studied +the area in front of him. He finally shook his head in bafflement. + +"This is an unbelievably screwy planet. These creatures apparently +haven't reached any stage of development higher than the herd instinct, +and yet they are farming. It doesn't make any kind of sense. The species +is completely out of character." + +MacFarland looked at the virgin growth below him, and shook his head. +"That's a farm?" he asked sarcastically. + +Gallifa grinned. "You would have to be a biologist to catch on," he +explained. "See that yellowish bush? The one with the purple blossoms? +Now look at the area directly in front of us. Not a single bush. If you +will look carefully you will find several types of plant life which are +growing freely everywhere except in the area I showed you. The gnomes +are allowing only the plants they want to grow in the area. + +"Perhaps they aren't exactly _farming_," he elaborated. "That is, they +may not be planting anything in an orderly fashion. But they _are_ +cultivating. And it all adds up to the same thing. They are increasing +an edible crop by eliminating--well, weeds. And if they can do that, +they should have a corresponding cultural development. + +"Another thing bothers me," Gallifa complained. "If these stupids are a +natural prey for animals, as unprotected as they are, I should think +they would live in some kind of thick brambles. That at least would give +them some measure of safety. I think the bio team is going to have more +than their share of headaches." + +"Let's work on it tomorrow," MacFarland suggested tiredly. "I want to +get back to camp." + +Hawkins returned them to the truck, and Gallifa and MacFarland jolted +off into the gathering dusk. It was fully dark by the time they reached +the camp. + +Gallifa checked his team, then gathered their various findings together +and sent them over to the Administration Building for further +evaluation. Samuels didn't check in with the rest. Gallifa assumed that +he was busy with the gnomes. He wanted to discuss the queer creatures +with him, and wandered over to the specimen shack. Samuels wasn't there. +Neither were any of the natives. + +Gallifa returned to the team shack and left a note on Samuel's bunk +telling him where he could be found. Then he went over to the +Administration Building to work with MacFarland. The next few hours he +and MacFarland were so busy sorting material and feeding it to the +analyzers that he forgot his aide. + +Finally Gallifa finished verifying the last of a huge stack of +photographs, and stuffed the important ones into a plastic envelope. He +added the date seal, initialed it, and handed it to one of the men to +take to the laboratory for micro-filming. Then he produced a battered +pipe and filled it with tobacco, slowly tamping the bowl with his +fingers. + +He had just about finished his smoke when the messenger returned to the +Administration Building. "--Gallifa," he began. + +Gallifa knew that something was wrong by the way the man hesitated. He +sprang up. "What's the matter?" he asked. + +"Some of the boys ran into Samuels over on the edge of camp," the +messenger said miserably. "He was clear out of his head. He fought like +a tiger, and they had to tie him hand and foot to get him over to the +sick bay. The doctor wants you to come right over." + +Gallifa turned a white face to MacFarland. "What the devil," he said +woodenly. "Is my whole team going crazy?" + +MacFarland slipped into his field boots. "I'll go with you," he said. + +Outside a cold drizzle was falling, and from the way the leaden skies +were piling up, Gallifa was convinced that it would stay around for +several days. Evidently the weather boys had been right in predicting +that the planet was about to be plagued by a rainy season. + +As they drew near to the edge of camp, Cummings, the little, bald-headed +meteorologist of the weather group, burst out of the weather shack, +cursing soundly and waving a boot in one hand. + +"Damn those piebald dwarfs," he shouted. "They've got more brass than a +fire pole. They stole one of my boots." + +He threw the boot and disappeared around the corner. "Get out of here, +you little devils!" + +"The gnomes seem to have invaded the camp," MacFarland remarked. "We'll +have to take steps to chase them out. They might get into our stores." + +"Yeah," Gallifa nodded glumly. He was too upset with the problem of +Bradshaw and Samuels to worry about gnomes. + +From all indications Samuels had developed the same malady as Bradshaw. +The doctor pursed his lips and shrugged his shoulders. Thirty-three +hours on the planet and two men suddenly, violently insane! Did that +herald an epidemic, Gallifa wanted to know. Or could it simply be put +down to an unlucky coincidence? Could it be a disease or a virus? + +There were tests that might shed some light on the mystery, the doctor +admitted. But it would take time to apply them and reach any kind of +conclusion. Meanwhile, the work had to continue. The survey could not +wait. + +Samuels had been given a hypo and been moved to the ward with Bradshaw. +Gallifa walked past the ward corpsman and looked in the door. Bradshaw +was tossing fretfully in his sleep. Both he and Samuels were in +restraint jackets. + +Gallifa shuddered and swabbed a perspiring brow. The rain was making +everything muggy. + +He left MacFarland still talking to Dr. Thorndyke, and started +back--heading directly for the team shack. Gallifa was obviously +worried. He found himself wishing that he could somehow avoid telling +the rest of the crew about Samuels. + +Damn! Was the Bio team jinxed? + + + + +V + + +Gallifa kept close to the shacks in a futile effort to protect himself +from the rain, which was really driving now. A single light burned in +the Administration Building, but the rest of the compound was dark and +quiet. + +He skirted the deserted equipment building and paused for an instant in +the lee of a truck to light his pipe. There was a loud tinkle of glass, +and the windshield on the vehicle magically spouted a hole. + +Gallifa ducked instinctively and only just in time. The windshield +spouted a second hole--and then a third. A faint, bluish flash located +his attacker. It was uncomfortably close. + +Gallifa lashed out, and fell over a crouching figure. In a moment the +two men were thrashing in the mud. The unseen attacker was strong and he +fought like a maniac. But Gallifa was even stronger and his determined +anger quickly gave him the advantage. He wrested the pellet gun from the +other's grasp, and brought the butt down hard--brought it down twice. +The man slumped, and was still. + +Gallifa snapped on his wrist torch and played the tiny, luminous glow +over the sprawled figure. The man who had tried to kill him was +Cummings. Gallifa numbly wiped the mud from his pipe and lit it with a +flickering lighter. The flame made a weird, cameo-like oval of his gaunt +face, with the olive-toned skin of his ancestry stretched tightly across +the high cheekbones. + +Why? Bradshaw ... Samuels ... Cummings ... + +A pattern was forming. And it was forming with a viciousness and a +regularity which left little doubt as to the probable outcome. + +Did that pattern embrace the space ship with its ring of rain-washed +skeletons? Had they disintegrated under a pressure as relentless as the +swiftly-tightening jaws of a vise. _Something_ was forcing normal men +into homicidal insanity. But what? + +Gallifa didn't know. But he did know that someone had better come up +with some answers--intelligent ones, and very much to the point. Or was +it already too late? Was the compound already infected--with each man +only waiting to be struck down? + +Gallifa draped the limp body of Cummings over his shoulder, and sloshed +his way back to the hospital. The doctor grimly made room in the ward +room for the new patient. While he was treating the gash in Gallifa's +cheek, MacFarland, Hawkins, and some of the early-rising camp cooks +brought in two more men from the weather group. + +Gallifa watched in tight-lipped silence as the corpsmen administered +hypos and set the new cots end to end in the already overcrowded +sickbay. + +"There were only two restraint jackets," Dr. Thorndyke said jerkily. +"We'll have to secure the rest of them to the bunks." + +MacFarland nodded. When he spoke, his voice was low and strained. "This +is getting out of hand. I think we'd better get everybody over to the +Administration Building as soon as possible." + +"All right," Gallifa said quietly. "Only--" + +"Only what?" MacFarland asked sharply. + +"What if everybody in camp isn't available," Gallifa said flatly. He +opened the door and stepped into the rain. + +The Administration Building was hot. The windows were steamed over, and +the men nearest to them had wiped clear spots with their hands, as if +they could not bear the thought of not being able to peer out into the +night. + +The room buzzed with a kind of orderly confusion. The men were scared +and they made no effort to conceal it. Gallifa studied a slip of paper +covered with tally marks, and then quickly stuffed it into his pocket. + +Ten men were now missing, not counting the ones already in the hospital. +They couldn't be accounted for, so it had to be assumed they were either +sick--or dead. + +It had been decided that Gallifa and Dr. Thorndyke were the best +qualified to take charge of the camp, until normality returned. Gallifa +studied the men carefully. + +"We haven't much to go on," he said with grim candor. "We're still in +the dark as to what is happening. We only know that when it takes place, +it happens damn fast--and without discrimination. Men have been affected +both in and out of camp. + +"So far, here are the facts. To the best of our knowledge none of the +men have been bitten by animals and we haven't found any poisonous +plants. Dr. Thorndyke is considering the possibility that some unknown +virus which affects the brain may be responsible. He's over in the +laboratory running tests now. If it is a virus, grouping together like +this might be a mistake. We'll load everybody up with antibiotics and +hope for the best. We've got to lick this!" + +"Until now," Gallifa continued grimly, "no one has been hurt except the +stricken men. We want to keep it that way. One fact stands out bluntly. +All of the men have been damned anti-social. They want to be left alone, +and will attempt to kill anyone who gets close to them. That should make +them easy to spot. If we are to have a chance to cure them, we have to +catch them first." + +"We are going to have to consider the likelihood that more of us will be +affected. We must do everything within our power to isolate those +suspiciously-acting persons. Probably the ship Mac and I discovered +didn't have the warning I am giving to you now. We can lick this thing +if we're determined enough. The main thing is not to lose your head. +Watch your neighbor, but don't jump to conclusions. Be sure before you +act." + +There was a stir and Gallifa paused. The doctor pushed his way through +the men to the front of the room. His face was white and haggard. + +"What about the tests?" Gallifa asked. + +"There aren't going to be any tests," Dr. Thorndyke replied grimly. "At +least not on the men in the hospital. They are all dead." + +"What happened?" Gallifa urged, his eyes wide with shock. + +Everyone was very quiet. + +The doctor wiped his hand across his forehead. "Nolan was on duty in the +wardroom. He went out for a smoke. I heard him go out. I didn't hear him +come back. I was setting up some new equipment. When I finally went back +to the ward Nolan must have caught--whatever it is. He was gone, and +he'd slit every man's throat with a scalpel." + +Gallifa faced the assemblage. "We're going to inoculate everyone here. +As soon as we're through, I want each team to go to their own shacks and +stay there. If you _have_ to go somewhere, go in pairs. If you see +anyone wandering around by himself, no matter _who_ he is, bang him over +the head with something and bring him over to the hospital. Otherwise, +stay put." + +The men received their shots in an uncomfortable silence and disappeared +into the night. Gallifa, MacFarland, and Dr. Thorndyke remained in the +Administration room. + +"Any idea what it is, doc?" MacFarland asked huskily. + +"I hardly had time to take care of the patients," Dr. Thorndyke replied +bitterly. "Did you honestly expect me to find out what was wrong with +them in a few short hours?" + +"But--" Gallifa began. + +MacFarland suddenly started, and leapt to his feet. The doctor moved +away, his face paling. + +"What's the matter?" Gallifa asked, alarmed. + +"Don't be so old womanish," MacFarland snapped. "I'm not catching it. I +just thought of something. Cummings had a gun. Where did he get it?" + +"The storeroom!" Gallifa exclaimed. "I'd forgotten we had weapons and +ammo in the storeroom! If things got bad enough, we _could_ wipe +ourselves out. We'd better check." + +"I'm going back to the hospital," Dr. Thorndyke said bluntly. "I'm going +to lock the door. If anyone comes banging around he damn well had better +know who he is and talk intelligently--or I'll slice him from his +wishbone to his crotch." He stalked out. + +Gallifa stared blankly after Dr. Thorndyke. It was funny hearing him +talk this way. He had always thought of the doc as being rather +mild-mannered. Damned flexible, humans! + + + + +VI + + +They found the door was torn off the storeroom. It hadn't even been +secured. Someone had just been in a terrific hurry. There wasn't a +single weapon left. MacFarland studied the disarray, then thoughtfully +hefted a broad-bladed pick axe. + +"I'm of the opinion," he said quietly, "that in a short time things are +going to get a little rough around here." + +"Now wait a minute, Mac," Gallifa protested. + +"Sorry, boy," MacFarland said grimly. "If I knew everyone else was +barehanded, I would go along with you. I may not be the next victim--or +the tenth. I'll more than likely have to protect myself against someone +who has come down with it, however, and I've got an overwhelming desire +to stay alive." + +Gallifa let his hands drop helplessly to his sides. MacFarland was +right, of course. They hadn't acted soon enough. Was this how panic was +born? + +"Mac," Gallifa tried huskily. "We've got to keep our heads. If we don't, +we'll destroy ourselves." + +"I'm open to any suggestions," MacFarland said steadily. "But until I'm +satisfied that the danger is past, I'll just hang on to this axe." + +"Let's go back over to the hospital," Gallifa said wearily. "We'll use +Thorndyke's projector and go over every inch of micro-film we have. We +may be too close to the problem. There must be something we've +overlooked." + +Outside the rain had slackened into a fine mist. Overhead the clouds +still held, but they were somewhat lighter. In a short while, it would +be dawn. Every light in the compound was burning fiercely. Gallifa +suddenly remembered the generator in the shack behind the Administration +Building. If anyone smashed or damaged the generator beyond repair, the +camp would be without power of any kind. And they might be forced to +warn the colonists to stay away from the planet. + +He stopped MacFarland. "I think we better secure the door to the +generator shack," he said thoughtfully. "We can put a robot control on +the radio, but we have to insure power." + +MacFarland understood the reason immediately. But before he could answer +angry voices rang out somewhere across the compound. + +Gallifa hesitated. "You better see what that is," he told MacFarland. +"And I'll check the generator." + +MacFarland nodded and slipped away. Gallifa detoured around the hospital +and carefully approached the Administration Building. Once he saw +something moving in the half-light and halted abruptly. It was only a +few of the little gnomes moving through the camp. + +Gallifa quickly rummaged through the spare parts cache in the shack and +drove stout pegs into the door jamb and the door. Then he expertly wove +a short length of wire around the pegs and drew them tight with a pair +of wire nippers. He leaned a shoulder against the door until he was +satisfied it would hold. Then he returned to the hospital. + +MacFarland met him at the back entrance. The five corpses still lay +shackled to the bunks in a mute and grisly reminder of how quickly +deterioration had spread through the embryonic colony. Gallifa felt his +jaw muscles tighten. + +"The bio team stole all the weapons," MacFarland said without preamble. +"They've barricaded themselves in the mess hall and threaten to shoot +anyone who comes within ten feet of the door." + +Gallifa waited, his expression somber. + +"The other teams are mad clear through," MacFarland continued. "I +convinced them to go back to their own shacks, but I don't know how long +they will stay there." + +Gallifa nodded. "If the other teams decide to rush the mess hall--" He +let the sentence trail off and grimly began to sort the micro-film. + +A few hours later he had uncovered a series of very surprising--and +confusing--facts. He was amazed by the extent and completeness of the +data the teams and machines had assembled during their brief stay on the +planet. Gallifa closed his eyes and began to sift through the data with +the queer, persistent sixth sense of all true research men. + +The field of biology isn't limited. It begins just under the crust of a +planet, encompasses the surface, and extends ... as far as needs be. +Gallifa was a good biologist. And now he had a series of incredible +facts at his command. He thought he had the answer to the epidemic. Only +if he was on the right track--and he was almost sure of it--the cure +might be so simple that it would be no cure at all. + +How did you cure fear? + +MacFarland was dozing across the room. Gallifa suddenly realized how +tired he really was. Perhaps the doctor could give him a stimulant. In +any case, he wanted to discuss an idea with Dr. Thorndyke. He stood up +and gathered together the papers lying scattered on the desk. + +MacFarland was immediately awake. He held the axe loosely in one big +hand, but a slight tensing of the muscles in his forearm denoted his +readiness to use the weapon. + +Gallifa noticed only that MacFarland was awake. He gestured vaguely and +walked through the room to the doctor's office. + +"Dr. Thorndyke!" Gallifa called. + +"Eh!" The doctor was startled. He walked quickly over to a wall cabinet +and busied himself with an electronic sterilizer. When he turned he was +holding a short-barreled, hair-thin hypodermic jet. + +"I've been hoping you'd come by," he said. "That cut in your cheek. You +should have had a tetanus shot." + +Gallifa automatically bared an arm and leaned on the table. The doctor +held the needle up to the light and exerted a minute pressure on the +plunger. He reached for Gallifa's arm. + +MacFarland was across the room in five quick strides. He hit the doctor +across the side of the head with the broad blade of the axe. Dr. +Thorndyke sighed and collapsed loosely on the floor. The point of the +dropped hypodermic shattered and a milky fluid oozed from the splintered +end. + +Gallifa's reflexes were slow. For a long moment he stood as though +stunned. Then shock caught at him. But the slow-motion time which +gripped him wouldn't allow him to take more than two steps before the +axe in MacFarland's big hand would come crashing down. He wished he +could have activated the transmitter before it happened. Dazed, he +wondered who would warn the colonists? + +Gallifa suddenly realized he had placed the portable operating table +between himself and the other man. He drew his first breath, and it +caught in his throat. Then he was through the door and running across +the compound. He stumbled towards the equipment shack and threw himself +in the back of a truck. + +MacFarland didn't follow. + + + + +VII + + +Gallifa rubbed his aching eyes and rested. How many hours had passed +since he had slept or eaten? It was fully light now, although the dawn +sky was gray because of the clouds. A strong wind pulled at his hair, +and the first heavy drops of another rainstorm pelted against his face. +Gallifa moved under the half-top canvas and wished for a slicker. The +rain was cold. + +The crackle of small arms brought Gallifa to the edge of the truck. He +hadn't realized how still the camp really was. The tension was a live +thing, coiled in the wet air. There was no doubt the firing came from +the mess hall. The bio team had all of the weapons. + +Gallifa was sure he could stop the panic if he could contact the men. If +only they weren't so scattered. He had to try. He gave another quick +look at the hospital door, then sped around the Administration Building. + +Something hit him from the side and hurled him joltingly to the sharp +gravel. Gallifa rolled to a fighting crouch, dimly realizing that his +right arm was almost paralyzed. He shook his head hard against the pain. +The man was Nolan--and he was the most frightened man Gallifa had ever +seen. + +His face was convulsed with such abject terror that Gallifa was stunned. +He was like an animal at bay, with all moving life his enemy. Gallifa +remained perfectly still, his eyes on the surgeon's scalpel in Nolan's +hand. Then from the mess hall came another rattle of fire. + +Gallifa couldn't help jumping. Nolan drew his tight lips away from his +teeth and gestured menacingly with the scalpel. Then a beefy arm +appeared from nowhere and struck the corpsman a chopping blow at the +base of the skull. He dropped the scalpel and fell silently to the +ground. + +MacFarland stepped around the corner of the building. + +Gallifa tried to rise, then gave way to the weakness of his limbs. The +ground spun crazily past his face and he passed out. + +"Gallifa! Snap out of it! Wake up, boy!" + +Rough hands were shaking him. He opened his eyes. + +"I didn't kill Doc," MacFarland said quietly. "There wasn't time to +explain. I had to act fast. He had enough knockout juice in that needle +to put you away permanently." + +Gallifa searched the other man's face. Then, slowly the tension went out +of his features. "I heard shots?" + +"Your boys took a few shots at me," MacFarland admitted. "I guess they +thought I was rushing them." + +Gallifa stared at Nolan. "We've got to contact the men before it's too +late," he said. "I know what caused the epidemic--and how to stop it. +Anyway, temporarily. If I can only find some way to get them to +listen." + +MacFarland said: "We'll find a way. Tell me about it." + +"There's nothing wrong with this camp now but fear," Gallifa continued +wearily. "Or the _fear_ of fear. There wasn't any epidemic. It was the +gnomes. It's all here in the micro-film." + +MacFarland stared blankly. + +"You know how we survey?" Gallifa said quickly. "We send out low-flying +'copters and track the neural waves from all animal life. Later on, +after we pick up some specimens, all the neural patterns on the tapes +are matched. Otherwise, we wouldn't know one from the other. This +information, along with other data, is fed to the analyzers and we get +an excellent idea of the type and distribution of all life in a given +area. The boys did a good job with the 'copters. They covered enough +territory to provide all the data we need at present." + +"So?" MacFarland asked. + +"Somehow," Gallifa went on, "Samuels managed to get a neural trace from +the natives before he went insane. It's right here in his report. And +the trace matches perfectly with some of the patterns taken from the +'copters. When I fed the patterns to the analyzers, I got some damned +strange results. The analyzers classified the gnomes as an oversized +form of rodent, somewhat similar to rabbits and rats. This I suspected. +What I hadn't suspected was that their neural wave was so strong it +could be projected as a physical impulse." + +"I still don't see--" interjected MacFarland. + +"It's simple," Gallifa said. "The natives are _mental skunks_. I don't +know how they do it. Maybe we can't even find out. But I can guess how +it works. The creatures transmit a neural charge as real as an electric +current. We don't yet know the range, but we've already seen it in +action." + +"The cat!" MacFarland said. + +Gallifa nodded. "The 'copter survey showed that where the instruments +located gnomes, there was very little other animal life in a wide area. +Their charge may be deadly to a non-reasoning animal if it is exposed +more than a few moments. To a human it isn't deadly, but it's +devastating. The charge must hurt the mind so badly that it defends +itself with the only bit of reasoning left. Kill or be killed. That's +why our men turned homicidal." + +"If this is true," MacFarland said soberly, "can we do anything about +it? Can we destroy these creatures?" + +"We can probably destroy them," Gallifa said slowly. "But remember the +rabbits in Australia? The gnomes are ecologically basic. They are by far +the most numerous animal in this area." + +"Meaning," said MacFarland, "that if we killed them off here, they would +swarm in from somewhere else? That will mean a running battle." + +Gallifa smiled grimly at MacFarland's use of the future tense. "We may +have to live with them for awhile. But our immediate problem is how to +convince the men that we can solve the present crisis--while we still +have time." + +"You'd never dare approach the mess hall," MacFarland warned. + +The camp waited, wound up to the breaking point. Along about the middle +of the afternoon, maybe before, all hell was going to bust loose. Unless +he could stop it. + +He suddenly grabbed MacFarland's arm. "Mac!" he asked eagerly. "The +generator. Do you know if it's still working?" + +A look of understanding crossed MacFarland's face. "The bull horn. Of +course! Everyone in camp can hear the bull horn." + +They made it past the mess hall without drawing any fire. A few moments +later the resonant voice of the loudspeaker was booming across the camp. +Gallifa spoke slowly, methodically, trying to convince and reassure. He +paused, then once more repeated the plea. + +He almost gave up. Then slowly the mapping gang edged into the open and +filed toward the Administration room. Finally the bio team left the mess +hall, and Gallifa let the heavy horn drop. What now? The present +nightmare was almost over, but what of the future? + +"We will be able to control the gnomes locally," MacFarland said, +seeming almost to guess his thoughts. "As we expand, they will have to +give." + +"Maybe," Gallifa said. "But just because they are rodents. Don't +underestimate their possibilities. + +"The creatures of this planet have never been pressed. Nothing has been +able to push them up the evolutionary ladder. We'll be the toughest +environment they've ever faced, for we know the power of their defensive +mechanism. How well will we be able to compete if they learn to use it +as an offensive weapon?" + +"We can't," MacFarland said. + +"We know it's selective," Gallifa corrected. "They didn't bother either +Samuels or myself when we first contacted them. We also know all of the +stricken men weren't actively molesting gnomes. Therefore, some were hit +due to the actions of others. The only question is--how selective is +their power?" + +"Then how _can_ we handle them?" MacFarland questioned soberly. + +Gallifa shrugged. "I don't know," he said simply. "We're committed here, +and we'll stay. This isn't the first time the human race has been +challenged--it won't be the last." + +Gallifa turned and walked toward the Administration Building. Humans had +solved a hundred problems on a hundred planets. Problems existed to be +solved. This one, too, would be solved. But no matter how hard or how +easy, it would be an experiment. + +As all humanity was an experiment. + +[Footnote: _Melvin Sturgis is a mechanical engineer employed by_ +ROCKETDYNE, _Propulsion field laboratory--a division of North American +Aviation, Inc. Like many another brilliant young technician with an +extra-curricular, electronic string to his bow he has also been a +free-lance magazine writer for the past five years. We think you'll +agree he has scored heavily here, on the planet of a far-off star!_] + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Unprotected Species, by Melvin Sturgis + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE UNPROTECTED SPECIES *** + +***** This file should be named 32036.txt or 32036.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/0/3/32036/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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