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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..60883aa --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #63982 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63982) diff --git a/old/63982-h.zip b/old/63982-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index b51af42..0000000 --- a/old/63982-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/63982-h/63982-h.htm b/old/63982-h/63982-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 5a0d3b0..0000000 --- a/old/63982-h/63982-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1182 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Conquistadors Come, by M. E. Counselman. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Conquistadors Come, by M. E. Counselman - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Conquistadors Come - -Author: M. E. Counselman - -Release Date: December 7, 2020 [EBook #63982] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONQUISTADORS COME *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>The Conquistadors Come</h1> - -<h2>by M. E. COUNSELMAN</h2> - -<p><i>The handsome, fair-haired Conquistadors<br /> -were welcomed by the S'zetnurs with open<br /> -arms—the grasping, grotesque arms of a<br /> -lost race of beauty-worshippers.</i></p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Planet Stories November 1951.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>The Conquistadors were tall men, tall and bronzed by many suns, and -splendid as they strode down the gangplank in a seemingly endless -procession. They were fair-haired, with flashing black eyes like -polished onyx, and their straight profiles might have been copied -from the faces of the silver coins that jingled in their pockets. -In the steamy-hot atmosphere of the new-found planet, S'zetnu, they -stripped to the waist almost at once, and their muscles rippled in the -blue-green sunlight....</p> - -<p>At the edge of the pallid forest surrounding the clear spot where -the great rocket had landed, many eyes were watching their advent. -Wondering eyes, wistful and excited eyes ... but eyes that peered and -squinted, rheumy with disease and almost blind.</p> - -<p>The Conquistadors, after the manner of their ancient ancestors, knelt -down in a ring, hands folded, heads bowed. One of them—the tallest, -the most splendid—stood in the center of the circle and lifted both -arms to the sky. His lips moved, and lovely rolling sounds issued from -them....</p> - -<p>The watchers in the forest gasped, looking at one another in silent -wonder. Two centuries ago, their kind had lost the power of speech; and -for a half century their deformed ears had been able to hear only the -loudest of sounds—the screech of a giant beetle stalking them through -the swampland, the crash of thunder, the rumble of a waterfall ... the -sound of this great rocket-ship roaring down upon them out of nowhere. -Now, holding little seashells to their ears to amplify the voice of the -Tall One, they began to jump up and down ecstatically, like children -promised a treat. They nodded. They hugged one another with their short -deformed arms, bumping their foreheads together in the ancient gesture -of happiness and good will.</p> - -<p>The Conquistadors stood up. The leader raised his hand—and suddenly, -from all their open mouths, came beautiful noises that made the -listeners in the forest shiver with pleasure. It was a strange thing, -a magic thing! Cocking their hideous little heads this way and that, -and holding the shells to their ears, they began to sway in cadence, -mesmerized with delight; for not even their Elders could remember -<i>singing</i>.</p> - -<p>The lovely sounds ended. Then the Leader, the tall splendid one with -the pleasant expression, held up his hand again and spoke, pointing -first at one group of men, then at another, who nodded and drifted away -from the ring toward the task he had set for them. The watchers in the -forest nudged one another, pointing with their stumps of hands and -conversing (in the only way that was left to them) with the expressions -that flitted across their horribly disfigured faces. <i>Hands!</i> they -commented excitedly. <i>With fingers! And feet, gracefully arched feet, -with five toes on each! Oh, were not the strangers beautiful—were they -not perfect?</i></p> - -<p>However—the watchers frowned—they did not seem to be too intelligent. -Now, with evident excitement, one of them came running to the tall -leader with a handful of pebbles. Others gathered about the two of -them, yelling and pounding one another on the back as they examined the -small stones—which, the watchers knew, were completely worthless. No -one, not even these strong healthy newcomers, could eat a <i>stone</i>.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Rob! Yah-hoo!..." Harris, first astrogator, was yelling at his -long-time buddy, the pilot and captain of the space-freighter Eroica. -"Look at this stuff! Just look at it! Solaranium vein a foot thick ... -damn planet's loaded with it! <i>We did it! We finally did it....</i>"</p> - -<p>"Well, don't burn out your jet!" Rob Cantrell chuckled, calm and -laconic in the face of this near miracle. He squinted at one -mica-bright stone, tossing it up and catching it with a grin of quiet -triumph. "Yep ... journey's end. If our rations hold out, we can mine -and refine enough pure sola to start every factory on Terra booming -again inside six months. I ... <i>Good Lord!</i>" He broke off, hand arcing -to the blaster on his hip. "What's <i>that</i> thing? <i>Heads up!</i>" he -shouted a warning to the busy men about him. "<i>General alert!... we've -got visitors!</i>"</p> - -<p>It was a S'zetnur child who had ventured out of hiding, drawn by -curiosity—and by the tantalizing smell that issued from a pot of stew -one of the cooks was stirring. Now, as the tiny gargoyle-figure crawled -out into the clearing from the shelter of those white-leafed trees, -everyone turned to stare—the mechanics, unloading their diggers and -refining filters; the freight crew, setting up the tents around the -big rocket; the biochemists, busily testing the flora for edibility or -possible toxicity; the ethnologists, searching for some clue to the -language and customs of the people of this planet.</p> - -<p>Cantrell, his hand dropping slowly from his gun-butt, walked slowly -forward toward the crawling child. It squinted up at him with milky -blue eyes that could scarcely make out the outline of his tall figure. -But, at his approach, it cowered back; started to scuttle for cover. -Cantrell reached down gently and picked it up, shuddering at the little -face so close to his own. Moonstone eyes. Gargoyle mouth with crumbling -teeth. Round scabrous head that was almost hairless. Stumps of feet and -hands that had no fingers, no toes. The child squirmed frantically in -his embrace, uttering a small shrill whistle that seemed to be the only -sound it could make.</p> - -<p>"God, it's <i>human</i>, isn't it?" Harris, standing beside him, muttered in -pity and revulsion. "Put it down, Rob! It's ... diseased!"</p> - -<p>More of the men from Terra crowded closer, peering at the struggling -child. Then one of the chemists shouted, pointing. Cantrell whirled, -hand moving again toward his gun.</p> - -<p>Another of the creatures was creeping out of the forest. A -woman—probably the child's mother. She limped forward, whistling -soothingly to the child, but utterly terrified herself from the look on -her bloated, twisted features. A few feet away from Cantrell, she threw -her hands over her face and flung herself prone before him; head in -the grass, she crawled toward him, reached his feet, and lay tense as -though expecting a blow....</p> - -<p>"Poor slob! God, I've seen beggars on Terra who weren't as...." Captain -Rob Cantrell knelt slowly and set the child on its deformed feet. It -toppled over at once, unable to stand, and the mother snatched it to -her flat breast. She began to crawl again, dragging the child and -backing away with her face still thrust into the spongy ground.</p> - -<p>"Poor ugly <i>slob</i> ... thinks we're going to hurt her, doesn't she?"</p> - -<p>On impulse, Cantrell strode forward, took her arm gently, and lifted -her to her feet. She swayed, clinging to the child. Casting about for -some gesture of friendship, he suddenly unstrapped the spacewatch from -his left wrist and, smiling, buckled it about the woman's scrawny -handless arm. She stared at it dumbly, milk-blue eyes darting from -the jeweled band to Cantrell's face for a moment. Then, with a little -bleating sound, she threw herself at his feet again, trembling with -terror. She lay there, clutching her baby and sobbing uncontrollably.</p> - -<p>"Well, I'll be a—!" Cantrell glanced helplessly at Harris, "What d'you -make of <i>that</i>?"</p> - -<p>"Doesn't understand about presents," the astrogator guessed. "Must mean -something special on this planet.... <i>Hey! Here come some more!</i>"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He pointed toward the pale forest, from which a wary group of perhaps -fourteen S'zetnurs, men and women, had emerged fearfully. Their -hands—if they could be called hands—were flung up, like the woman's -to cover their faces—if they could be called faces. And when they -reached a distance of five yards from the silent group of Earthmen, all -threw themselves down flat, their heads burrowing into the spiky grass.</p> - -<p>"Don't get it," Rob Cantrell drawled, hands on hips, legs spread apart -as he stood regarding this strange welcome. "Look; all of them are -deformed. Inbreeding, do you suppose? Or some kind of plague?..."</p> - -<p>"Sir, I believe it's a matter of vitamin deficiency," one of the -biochemists spoke up from the group of Earthmen behind Harris. "I've -been testing a few specimens under the micro. These white leaves—and -look at that grass! It's the sunlight, I think. Not a bit of nutriment -in the soil. Another thing," he pointed out shrewdly; "has anybody seen -any animal-life yet? Ask me, I don't think there <i>is</i> any! These poor -critters are just <i>starving</i> to death! Malnutrition. Years and years of -it...."</p> - -<p>Cantrell scowled, his lips pursed; he said slowly, "You know, Jim, I -believe you're right.... Well, <i>hell</i>!" He gestured impatiently to one -of the cooks who had wandered over to join the curious group. "Break -out some solid chow for these ... people. On the double!"</p> - -<p>"Yes <i>sir</i>!"</p> - -<p>Grinning with the sheer pleasure of filling a need, several of the crew -followed the cook. They came back with folding plates and collapsible -cups, filled to the brim with succulent stew made of dehydrated -vegetables and pressed beef. These, a bit squeamishly, they put into -the clumsy grasp of the little dwarfed S'zetnurs; laughing, they -watched how they snatched it, turning their backs to their benefactors -as they wolfed down the warm food....</p> - -<p>The laughter died. For almost instantly three, then a dozen of the -dwarfish creatures were doubled up with nausea and stomach-cramp. -Others, gagging at the first bite, dropped their platters of food. Then -all threw themselves down before the men from Terra, groveling in the -grass at their feet as though begging for mercy....</p> - -<p>"Lord, we're <i>stupid</i>!" Cantrell sighed. "Of <i>course</i> they can't take -our rich food! Probably been living on herbs and stuff for Lord knows -how long...." He moved pityingly toward one groaning dwarf, writhing on -the sward and hugging his stomach. "Hey, you medics! Give me hand—"</p> - -<p>He knelt, trying to roll the sufferer over on his back and slip a -gastrotab between the writhing lips. But, with a look of terrified -pleading, the little S'zetnur covered his face and flopped over -again, hiding his warped features in a clump of pale weeds. With his -fingerless hands he groped along the ground, found Cantrell's foot, and -drew himself up to it, wriggling in worm-like obeisance—</p> - -<p>Then, before the Earth pilot could move, a swollen tongue crept out and -caressed his bare toes under the plastic sandal-strap.</p> - -<p>Cantrell's reaction was instinctive. His foot came up, in sheer disgust -that any man should lick another's foot like a mongrel-dog. Cursing, he -kicked the little S'zetnur square in the mouth.</p> - -<p>And, the next instant, hated himself.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Blood, a thin watery trickle, ran from a corner of the gargoyle mouth; -but the S'zetnur made no move to escape. He merely lay where he was, -dumbly, holding up one arm. Opaque eyes peered warily up through the -weeds.</p> - -<p>"Ah ... to hell with it!" the pilot burst out, furious with himself. He -started to kneel and apologize; saw the futility of it, and turned away -abruptly, striding toward the long silver ship. "Get these screwballs -out of the way!" he snapped, irritable in his shame. "We've got work to -do! We'll have to refine this sola on a night-and-day shift! No rest -for anybody ... and twenty shocks to any of you jet-monkeys I catch -trying to go over the hill! You got that?"</p> - -<p>"Yes <i>sir</i>!"</p> - -<p>"Yes-sir, Cap'n!"</p> - -<p>"Yousa! I hears you talkin'!" This from Harris, who had strolled after -him, checking over his charts carefully for the return flight.</p> - -<p>Cantrell glared at him. "And that goes for you, too—Romeo!" he -growled. "No fraternizing with the natives!"</p> - -<p>"<i>Fraternize!</i> With <i>those</i> women?" Harris shuddered, thumbs in the -studded belt of his spacesuit. "Listen, I'd have to be drunker'n I've -ever been on Mars or Venus!" He broke off, looking at his friend with -faint reproach. "You shouldn't have kicked that poor slob, though. -Section 382-XV: <i>No overt act of violence unless to repell attack</i> ... -you read your Handbook lately, chum?"</p> - -<p>Cantrell grunted, struck one fist into his other palm sheepishly. "I -know it. I didn't mean to. But—licking my foot! But I'll make it up to -him. Some way...."</p> - -<p>"Sure!" Harris's eyes softened. Throwing an arm around Cantrell's -shoulders, he locked step with him as they walked up the gangplank. -"Easy enough. If it's a vitamin deficiency, like Jim says, why—it'll -be a cinch for us to help these poor joes! We can ship chemicals from -Terra, every return-trip. Teach 'em to grow food by hydro-vat methods. -We could make a new world for them!"</p> - -<p>The pilot nodded eagerly, his pleasant, alert face full of plans for -those pitifully stunted creatures, now melting back into the pale -jungle in obedience to the crewmen shooing them from the vicinity of -dangerous—and valuable—machinery.</p> - -<p>Cantrell grinned. "We can try vitamin therapy right away," he said -happily. "Take, say, ten of the kids and feed them a test-diet for the -forty days we're here, loading up sola. May take years of treatment to -get them looking like <i>people</i> again, but—we can sure try!"</p> - -<p>They glanced back over their shoulders in unison, two splendid young -giants from another solar system, their eyes warm and bright with a -thing called "brotherly love"—which it had taken their own small -planet many centuries to learn. Together they disappeared into the -rocket ship.</p> - -<p>Watching them from the white-leafed forest, the little people of -S'zetnur turned away sadly, in shame and patient resignation. In a -small clearing beyond sight of the bustling rocket-camp, they held -council, communicating with sharp whistles and facial expressions.</p> - -<p>Then—according to the ancient law which the Elders still -recalled—they dragged forth the woman who wore The Mark on her wrist, -the gleaming Band of Rejection which the Tall Leader of the beautiful -ones had placed there with his own hand. The woman did not cry out -when they bound her, and buried her, still breathing, beside a huge -flowering tree—tossing the baby in with her, according to custom.</p> - -<p>The man Rob Cantrell had kicked in the mouth, likewise, was made ready -for the honor bestowed on him ... and allowed to touch the <i>Icon</i>, as -was his right....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The blue-green sun sank slowly, and the night-shift of the Earthmen's -work-camp took over, mining and refining solaranium ore, working -swiftly and efficiently against time.</p> - -<p>Cantrell and Harris slept on identical cots in a central tent, waking -now and then to listen to the night-noises of this strange new -planet. S'zetnu?... It was only a designation, not a name; a term in -inter-stellar Esperanto, meaning "Seventh-from-the-Sun." Tomorrow, -Cantrell thought sleepily, they would find out what the dwarfish -inhabitants called their little world. It must have a name for they -must once have had some sort of language. There were signs, the -ethnologists reported, that they had once been a civilized people.</p> - -<p>The pilot blew a smoke-ring at the damp ceiling of the tent, thinking -and making plans.</p> - -<p>"Harris?" he called softly. "You awake?"</p> - -<p>"Uh-huh. Too damned hot to sleep! Worse than Venus. It isn't the—"</p> - -<p>"—heat; it's the humidity!" Cantrell grinned in the darkness. "Yeah, -yeah. Well, you can stand it for forty days. Say!" He sat up abruptly, -snapping his fingers on sudden thought. "If we could hire a couple of -those little S'zetnurs to locate sola veins for us, we could cut down -the time ... put the Geiger crew on one of the spare refiners! Hire -me one tomorrow, will you? A couple, I mean—two of the <i>older</i> ones, -with rudimentary fingers and toes. They should know their way around -better.... Cripes! You can see how their race has deteriorated, each -generation a little bit worse than the one before ... the poor devils!"</p> - -<p>"Yeah." Harris plucked Cantrell's cigarette-glow from the darkness to -take a drag. "But we're going to fix all that for them! Vital food, in -return for vital solaranium.... Why, it's a natural for trade-relations -between S'zetnu and Terra!" He blew out smoke, returned the cigarette. -"El Presidente's sure to give each of us a citation—with bonus! I can -just see my old lady spending it now. On a Martian vurna-fur coat! -She's been whining for one ever since...."</p> - -<p>Cantrell chuckled drowsily, then sighed. "I wish I hadn't kicked -that little guy. Feel like a heel. Wish I hadn't given that woman my -spacewatch, too, in a loose moment! What time is it?"</p> - -<p>"88-zero, shiptime," the astrogator murmured. "Go to sleep, will ya?... -I wish I was back on Tee with my baby tonight...."</p> - -<p>Silence fell. Outside, the refiners chugged rhythmically, melting away -the solaranium from the crude ore wheeled in by the miners. At a little -distance from the camp, the Geiger experts were moving their counters -over the ground, seeking the highly-fissionable ore. The sola shortage -had shut down the industries of Terra for five years now, and sent -many a rocket-ship out into space, searching, searching ... until now, -at last, the search was ended on a tiny planet Z-north of the System. -Close! Near enough to organize a freight-lane!</p> - -<p>But in the forest, the pallid forest beyond the camp, a gargoyle-woman -lay buried, clinging to her deformed half-idiot baby who had died with -her. Cantrell's spacewatch glinted on her stumpy wrist; mute testimony -that she must be <i>eliminated</i>, according to the ancient law that the -Elders remembered. It was strangely unfair—for there were others, many -others in the tribe, who were far more hideous than she! Mitka, who had -only a hole for a nose, and Jura, whose ears were unformed knobs on -either side of her head ... but that, of course, was for the Beautiful -Ones to judge. Their word had always been the Law....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Around noon the next day, Harris reported glumly to the central tent. -Cantrell, hard at work on a sheaf of forms, glanced up, his eyes -preoccupied.</p> - -<p>"Harris? Did you get those guides?"</p> - -<p>Harris spread his hands. "No can find! I've had men out combing the -forest all day. Can't find a sign of those little pixies! They've just -vanished!"</p> - -<p>Cantrell grinned. "Well, they're back again ... look; what do you think -<i>that</i> is? A mirage?" He jerked a nod at a dwarfish figure coming -across the clearing, trailing a long train of lush tropical flowers -that had been woven into a sort of cape. A garland of the same flowers -perched askew atop the scabrous gargoyle-head. The man limped proudly, -presenting himself before Cantrell with a little bow.</p> - -<p>"Well!" The pilot's eyebrows went up. "Who's he, the chief?" Then he -saw the man's swollen lips. "Say ... this is the poor jerk I <i>kicked</i>!" -His face softened, and he pointed to a folding chair beside his -cluttered desk. "Sit down, buster. You're hired—if I can only explain -your job to you!"</p> - -<p>Instead, quivering, the stunted S'zetnur covered his face and threw -himself down on his face.</p> - -<p>Harris sighed. "Here we go again!" He knelt and pulled the malformed -dwarf to his feet and shoved him into a chair.</p> - -<p>"Now," Cantrell groaned, "comes the tough part. How can I say in -sign-lingo that we want him to locate sola veins for us? Well—here -goes!"</p> - -<p>He held up a piece of ore, pointing and gesturing. The dwarf eyed it, -bewildered, milky-blue eyes darting from Harris to Cantrell and back -again. Cantrell pointed to the earth—</p> - -<p>Instantly the little S'zetnur threw himself flat on the ground again, -quivering. He began to sob, holding up one stumpy arm.</p> - -<p>"Oh, <i>hell</i>!" The spaceship's captain gave up, looking helplessly at -his astrogator. "Harris? Can you—"</p> - -<p>Harris pulled the S'zetnur to his feet again; shoved him into the -chair; explained with patient gestures about <i>digging</i>, about <i>the -ore</i>, about <i>the ship</i>. The man's eyes, like glowing moonstones, -followed his every motion eagerly, as a stupid child's might. He took -the pebble in his hand obediently, went out to the ship, dug a small -hole in the shadow of the great rocket, and buried the piece of ore. -Then he looked up at Cantrell, towering over him in exasperation. -Harris mopped his forehead.</p> - -<p>"I give up!" he laughed. "It's ... it's as though there was a <i>glass -wall</i> between us! We can see each other, and hear each other. But I -can't make him <i>understand</i>. Damned if I understand him, either!"</p> - -<p>Rob Cantrell rubbed his jaw, caressing his stubble of blond beard.</p> - -<p>"If we only knew what's going on in that funny little head," he -muttered. "What do they <i>want</i>? Everybody wants something. If we could -just figure out what these S'zetnurs are after—besides centuries of -decent diet, which they obviously need—we could—"</p> - -<p>He glared at the twisted little S'zetnur, decked with flowers that made -his hideous deformity even more noticeable. The man cringed at his -expression, covering his face and peeping through his short arms. Then, -emboldened, catching one of the pilot's hands between his own stumps, -he examined it admiringly, tracing each finger with his gaze. Cantrell -scowled and jerked his hand away impatiently.</p> - -<p>The S'zetnur covered his face and threw himself flat on the ground. -Cantrell cursed and mopped his streaming forehead and neck.</p> - -<p>"I don't get it," Harris said, scratching his head. "I just don't get -it ... hey! Maybe if we take him out to that valley a mile from camp, -we can put over the idea of his locating more sola for us. When he sees -our men mining the stuff—"</p> - -<p>"Sound idea," Cantrell grunted. "Come on!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Supporting the stumbling dwarf between them, the two Earthmen strode -across the camp and down the long hill toward the distant sound of the -pick-and-shovel crew. Two small a. g. barges sailed past them on their -way down, loaded with ore and manned by a single sweat-streaked miner, -headed for the nearest refinery.</p> - -<p>As they neared the valley, where last night the Geiger crew had located -a rich streak of solaranium, the pilot and the astrogator noticed that -their small captive was growing very nervous. Stumbling along between -them as fast as his stumpy feet could walk, he glanced first at Harris, -then at Cantrell, his expressive features working with agitation.</p> - -<p>When they reached a small ravine, its cliff-like walls pitted with -many small caves, the little dwarf began to bleat and squirm in their -grasp like a hysterical child being dragged to the dentist. Over his -flower-decked head, the two Earthmen looked at each other, and shrugged.</p> - -<p>"<i>Now</i> what?" Cantrell drawled. "This valley taboo or something, you -suppose?"</p> - -<p>"Beats me!"</p> - -<p>Harris stopped, pulling the little S'zetnur around and pointing to a -broad streak of sola inside the mouth of one cave. He made digging -motions. He pointed to himself and Cantrell, beaming and nodding.</p> - -<p>"Rock," he labored. "Nicee rockee! Find for us?... Oh hell!" He laughed -at his own absurd pidgin-English, then resorted to gestures again. He -pointed to the cave, to the little dwarf, to Cantrell—</p> - -<p>The S'zetnur shook his head violently, clapping both stunted hands -over his face. An agonized bleat issued from his twisted larynx, and -he threw himself flat before Cantrell, groveling and holding up one -arm—then, as the captain took an idle step toward the cave, he flung -his tiny malformed body before the entrance, shaking his head and -beating himself in the face with his fingerless hands.</p> - -<p>Cantrell looked at Harris, who scratched his head, grinning.</p> - -<p>"Beats me!" he repeated helplessly. "Guess they don't <i>want</i> us to have -the sola—!" his eyes hardened slowly. "Yeah—maybe that's it! Maybe -they're—" He stiffened, glancing nervously toward the white jangle -that pressed closely about them on all sides. "<i>Maybe they're arming -right now—planning an attack—</i>"</p> - -<p>Rob Cantrell's pleasant face changed. Eyes narrowed, mouth tight, he -let his gaze flicker over the working men who were under his command, -dependent on his judgment for their safety. His gaze returned to the -small S'zetnur, feebly trying to block the entrance to that natural -hole in the cliff's side. Or ... <i>was</i> it a natural hole? Cantrell's -keen eyes became observant, noting worn places in the rock—</p> - -<p>"There's something in this cave," Harris grunted. "Something this -little monkey doesn't want us to see ... a secret weapon, maybe? -Sa-ay!" His pleasant face hardened, like Cantrell's. "Maybe these -cookies aren't as dumb and helpless as they look! Maybe they've got -something that could wipe out our whole expedition!"</p> - -<p>Cantrell nodded and strode forward, jerking the bleating dwarf aside -with one sweep of his muscular arm. The cave was not deep; and, -Cantrell noted with tensed nerves, there were fresh flower-petals on -the floor of the small opening. Petals like those on the flower-wreath -of this fantastically decorated little S'zetnur.</p> - -<p>The captain groped inside. Harris stepped forward, shoving the dwarf -away as he flung himself at Cantrell again like a furious kitten. -There was, the Earthmen both saw at once, something inside. A kind of -box, crudely made of white wood, as though a clumsy child had put it -together. There was no lock, Cantrell raised the lid—</p> - -<p>Inside, dry and crumbling, was a small doll made of brown clay. Harris -and Cantrell stared at it, amazed at its perfection of modeling. It -was, or seemed to be, a very good image of an Earthman. Certainly, -it was not intended to portray one of the stunted little S'zetnurs, -for the legs and feet were perfect, the hands beautifully formed, the -facial details fine and delicate—though there was about the thing, -Cantrell noted, an odd expression of cruelty and arrogance—</p> - -<p>"Well! What d'ya know?" he snapped. "A graven image! The aborigines on -Terra used to make these images of an enemy—just before slipping him a -poison-dart in the back! Juju ... and they made sure it worked!"</p> - -<p>He whirled on the little S'zetnur, who was whistling shrilly now, -jumping up and down in agitated protest.</p> - -<p>At that moment, one of the diggers shouted a warning. Cantrell turned, -to see beyond the handful of workers in the valley a small army of -S'zetnurs advancing on them from the jungle-edge. Backs to the cliff -wall, Harris and Cantrell snatched out their blasters. The captain -yelled, warning the unarmed workers to make a dash for the camp:</p> - -<p>"<i>General alert! Prepare for attack!</i>"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Then the dwarfs were upon them, armed rather pathetically with clubs -strapped to their fingerless hands. Advancing in a rough semi-circle -upon Cantrell and Harris, and completely ignoring the half-dozen -workers who dashed past them, the little S'zetnurs closed in. Lips -tight, eyes narrowed, the Earthmen waited until they were within ten -feet—</p> - -<p>Then, methodically, they let go with their blasters, searing the -attackers from left to right.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Screaming, they went down, half-charred bodies and burning hair. One -little creature, luckier or bolder than the rest, struck a blow that -numbed Harris's left arm. Cantrell blazed away at him. He fell, an -unrecognizable mass of ashes.</p> - -<p>The men from Terra pressed against the cliff wall, panting, their eyes -raking the pale jungle for the next wave of attackers.</p> - -<p>"How d'you like these babies?" Cantrell snarled. "Planning to jump us -all the time—And we were feeling sorry for them!"</p> - -<p>They waited, tensed for the next attack. In the distance they could -hear the siren on the spaceship, calling a general alert. Calling in -the Geiger crews, and the diggers, and the ethnologists. <i>Natives -hostile, natives hostile!</i> the signal was screaming—</p> - -<p>Cantrell turned his head briefly—and stiffened as he saw the small -S'zetnur decked in flowers. He was still alive, crouched just inside -the cave, clutching the mud doll and whimpering softly. The captain -glared at him, hard-eyed.</p> - -<p>"Ambassador, huh?" He smiled without mirth. "To keep us from being -suspicious of this juju-attack, until it was too late!" He jerked his -head at Harris. "Blast him! He's a spy, isn't he? Been all over the -camp. Knows just where everything's located—"</p> - -<p>The astrogator peered at the huddled creature nursing the doll. He -raised his gun, then swallowed hard. "Rob—I can't do it! Cold like -this, I mean ... can't we take him prisoner? A hostage?"</p> - -<p>Cantrell glanced at him, then at the pitiful figure in the cave.</p> - -<p>"Don't be a damned fool!" he snapped. "If he gets away and brings -reinforcements, none of us'll get off this apple alive! You lost your -guts or something?"</p> - -<p>Harris scuffed his toe, looking down. "No-o.... It's just that.... -Well, hell!" his gruff voice cracked. "He's so ... <i>helpless</i>!"</p> - -<p>"Helpless, my eye!" Rob Cantrell growled. "There may be thousands of -these joes, closing in on us right now from that jungle! <i>Millions!</i> -All right, I'm in command," he said quietly. "Make a run for the camp. -I ... I'll do it...."</p> - -<p>His buddy tossed him a grateful look, born of their long-time -friendship. With another look at the silent wall of forest, he sprinted -in the direction of the camp. Once he paused, wincing, as the blare of -a ray-gun sounded behind him. Then Cantrell caught up with him, his -eyes pained, his lips white.</p> - -<p>"Poor slob!" he muttered through clenched teeth as he ran. "Poor ugly -little slob.... He kept shielding that damn doll with his body!"</p> - -<p>They burst into the clearing, where the lieutenants were already -rounding up those of the ship's crew who were trained to fight. Others, -the workmen and the experts, were piling into the ship for safety. The -siren kept up its woman-like screaming: <i>Hostile natives, hostile!</i></p> - -<p>Cantrell and Harris stopped in the center of the clearing, to view -the ordered shambles with sick eyes. They glanced at each other, and -shrugged.</p> - -<p>"All right!" the captain's clear voice rang out. "Prepare to take off! -Repeating: Prepare to take off! Abandon all equipment not vital to -crew. Repeating...."</p> - -<p>The men from Terra were efficient men, quick, intelligent, and -well-organized under the pilot and astrogator who commanded their -expedition. In exactly 8-3 kilos, shiptime, men and machinery were -loaded aboard the big silver rocket. Fire belched from her twin jets. -She took the atmosphere of the planet designated as S'zetnur like a -pale streak of flame. In another kilo, she was bulleting into free -flight.</p> - -<p>Cantrell, the pilot, fixed her automatic on "Sol-Terra," then strolled -back to the chart room, where Harris was rechecking their line of -flight. He sat down on the plastine desk, lighting a cigarette. Harris -took it from him, inhaled a deep drag, and handed it back. They looked -at each other, smiling wryly.</p> - -<p>"Well ..." Rob Cantrell sighed. "There goes that presidential citation -you were yapping about—with bonus. We'll be lucky if we keep our -rating!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, it won't be that bad," Harris predicted cheerfully. "I mean, -nobody could expect us to form a trade-alliance with a bunch of -hot-heads like that! Graven images! Tricked-up spies!" He spat -disgustedly. "And all because we wanted one shipload of lousy sola!..."</p> - -<p>Cantrell nodded bitterly. "And we could have done so much for them in -return. A new world, I think you said!..." He emitted a short laugh, -edged with cynicism. "Well ... Terra-Government can't afford to ship -from a hostile planet. Too damn expensive. We'll just have to equip -another expedition and start looking again...."</p> - -<p>Harris nodded absently, his eyes thoughtful. "Uh-huh.... But if we -could only have understood those little monkeys! Maybe they didn't mind -our taking the sola. Maybe it was something else.... Rob," he blurted, -"one of the junior ethnologists has a theory; did you hear? He...."</p> - -<p>"Junior ethnologists have always got a theory!" the captain snorted. -"Lack of experience!"</p> - -<p>"Yeah, but ..." Harris pursued. "This kid says he thinks those little -S'zetnurs were a cult of beauty-worshippers. You know? Like they used -to have on Venus? Eugenic mating—killing off the imperfect ones. He -says they just don't understand about nutrition; that's why it's so -tragic that they're all deformed and diseased now. None of them are -beauties any more, and they don't know why. But when they saw us...."</p> - -<p>"Nuts!" said Cantrell rudely.</p> - -<p>"Yeah, but.... The doll. Maybe it was an image of the way <i>they</i> used -to be. A sort of pattern for them to remember.... And you know how that -poor joe kept ... <i>looking</i> at us? The one all tricked-up in flowers? -This ethno thinks they sent him to be mated with one of our women...."</p> - -<p>"Good God!" the pilot laughed.</p> - -<p>"... and that poor slob of a woman, who acted so upset when you -strapped your spacewatch around her wrist. The kid thinks you marked -her for death, and...."</p> - -<p>"Oh, go soak your head! And that junior ethnologist's, too!" Cantrell -chuckled. "I understood those babies, all right! They're just a bunch -of greedy, ignorant morons, who were determined not to let a shipful of -strangers cart off any of their lousy little planet! You and your ... -glass wall!"</p> - -<p>He punched Harris on the shoulder in affectionate scorn. The astrogator -grinned feebly; then with more assurance, because Cantrell was his -friend and he trusted his judgment.</p> - -<p>"Yeah ..." he said. "Yeah, Rob; I guess you're right...."</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Conquistadors Come, by M. E. 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E. Counselman - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Conquistadors Come - -Author: M. E. Counselman - -Release Date: December 7, 2020 [EBook #63982] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONQUISTADORS COME *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - The Conquistadors Come - - by M. E. COUNSELMAN - - _The handsome, fair-haired Conquistadors - were welcomed by the S'zetnurs with open - arms--the grasping, grotesque arms of a - lost race of beauty-worshippers._ - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Planet Stories November 1951. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -The Conquistadors were tall men, tall and bronzed by many suns, and -splendid as they strode down the gangplank in a seemingly endless -procession. They were fair-haired, with flashing black eyes like -polished onyx, and their straight profiles might have been copied -from the faces of the silver coins that jingled in their pockets. -In the steamy-hot atmosphere of the new-found planet, S'zetnu, they -stripped to the waist almost at once, and their muscles rippled in the -blue-green sunlight.... - -At the edge of the pallid forest surrounding the clear spot where -the great rocket had landed, many eyes were watching their advent. -Wondering eyes, wistful and excited eyes ... but eyes that peered and -squinted, rheumy with disease and almost blind. - -The Conquistadors, after the manner of their ancient ancestors, knelt -down in a ring, hands folded, heads bowed. One of them--the tallest, -the most splendid--stood in the center of the circle and lifted both -arms to the sky. His lips moved, and lovely rolling sounds issued from -them.... - -The watchers in the forest gasped, looking at one another in silent -wonder. Two centuries ago, their kind had lost the power of speech; and -for a half century their deformed ears had been able to hear only the -loudest of sounds--the screech of a giant beetle stalking them through -the swampland, the crash of thunder, the rumble of a waterfall ... the -sound of this great rocket-ship roaring down upon them out of nowhere. -Now, holding little seashells to their ears to amplify the voice of the -Tall One, they began to jump up and down ecstatically, like children -promised a treat. They nodded. They hugged one another with their short -deformed arms, bumping their foreheads together in the ancient gesture -of happiness and good will. - -The Conquistadors stood up. The leader raised his hand--and suddenly, -from all their open mouths, came beautiful noises that made the -listeners in the forest shiver with pleasure. It was a strange thing, -a magic thing! Cocking their hideous little heads this way and that, -and holding the shells to their ears, they began to sway in cadence, -mesmerized with delight; for not even their Elders could remember -_singing_. - -The lovely sounds ended. Then the Leader, the tall splendid one with -the pleasant expression, held up his hand again and spoke, pointing -first at one group of men, then at another, who nodded and drifted away -from the ring toward the task he had set for them. The watchers in the -forest nudged one another, pointing with their stumps of hands and -conversing (in the only way that was left to them) with the expressions -that flitted across their horribly disfigured faces. _Hands!_ they -commented excitedly. _With fingers! And feet, gracefully arched feet, -with five toes on each! Oh, were not the strangers beautiful--were they -not perfect?_ - -However--the watchers frowned--they did not seem to be too intelligent. -Now, with evident excitement, one of them came running to the tall -leader with a handful of pebbles. Others gathered about the two of -them, yelling and pounding one another on the back as they examined the -small stones--which, the watchers knew, were completely worthless. No -one, not even these strong healthy newcomers, could eat a _stone_. - - * * * * * - -"Rob! Yah-hoo!..." Harris, first astrogator, was yelling at his -long-time buddy, the pilot and captain of the space-freighter Eroica. -"Look at this stuff! Just look at it! Solaranium vein a foot thick ... -damn planet's loaded with it! _We did it! We finally did it...._" - -"Well, don't burn out your jet!" Rob Cantrell chuckled, calm and -laconic in the face of this near miracle. He squinted at one -mica-bright stone, tossing it up and catching it with a grin of quiet -triumph. "Yep ... journey's end. If our rations hold out, we can mine -and refine enough pure sola to start every factory on Terra booming -again inside six months. I ... _Good Lord!_" He broke off, hand arcing -to the blaster on his hip. "What's _that_ thing? _Heads up!_" he -shouted a warning to the busy men about him. "_General alert!... we've -got visitors!_" - -It was a S'zetnur child who had ventured out of hiding, drawn by -curiosity--and by the tantalizing smell that issued from a pot of stew -one of the cooks was stirring. Now, as the tiny gargoyle-figure crawled -out into the clearing from the shelter of those white-leafed trees, -everyone turned to stare--the mechanics, unloading their diggers and -refining filters; the freight crew, setting up the tents around the -big rocket; the biochemists, busily testing the flora for edibility or -possible toxicity; the ethnologists, searching for some clue to the -language and customs of the people of this planet. - -Cantrell, his hand dropping slowly from his gun-butt, walked slowly -forward toward the crawling child. It squinted up at him with milky -blue eyes that could scarcely make out the outline of his tall figure. -But, at his approach, it cowered back; started to scuttle for cover. -Cantrell reached down gently and picked it up, shuddering at the little -face so close to his own. Moonstone eyes. Gargoyle mouth with crumbling -teeth. Round scabrous head that was almost hairless. Stumps of feet and -hands that had no fingers, no toes. The child squirmed frantically in -his embrace, uttering a small shrill whistle that seemed to be the only -sound it could make. - -"God, it's _human_, isn't it?" Harris, standing beside him, muttered in -pity and revulsion. "Put it down, Rob! It's ... diseased!" - -More of the men from Terra crowded closer, peering at the struggling -child. Then one of the chemists shouted, pointing. Cantrell whirled, -hand moving again toward his gun. - -Another of the creatures was creeping out of the forest. A -woman--probably the child's mother. She limped forward, whistling -soothingly to the child, but utterly terrified herself from the look on -her bloated, twisted features. A few feet away from Cantrell, she threw -her hands over her face and flung herself prone before him; head in -the grass, she crawled toward him, reached his feet, and lay tense as -though expecting a blow.... - -"Poor slob! God, I've seen beggars on Terra who weren't as...." Captain -Rob Cantrell knelt slowly and set the child on its deformed feet. It -toppled over at once, unable to stand, and the mother snatched it to -her flat breast. She began to crawl again, dragging the child and -backing away with her face still thrust into the spongy ground. - -"Poor ugly _slob_ ... thinks we're going to hurt her, doesn't she?" - -On impulse, Cantrell strode forward, took her arm gently, and lifted -her to her feet. She swayed, clinging to the child. Casting about for -some gesture of friendship, he suddenly unstrapped the spacewatch from -his left wrist and, smiling, buckled it about the woman's scrawny -handless arm. She stared at it dumbly, milk-blue eyes darting from -the jeweled band to Cantrell's face for a moment. Then, with a little -bleating sound, she threw herself at his feet again, trembling with -terror. She lay there, clutching her baby and sobbing uncontrollably. - -"Well, I'll be a--!" Cantrell glanced helplessly at Harris, "What d'you -make of _that_?" - -"Doesn't understand about presents," the astrogator guessed. "Must mean -something special on this planet.... _Hey! Here come some more!_" - - * * * * * - -He pointed toward the pale forest, from which a wary group of perhaps -fourteen S'zetnurs, men and women, had emerged fearfully. Their -hands--if they could be called hands--were flung up, like the woman's -to cover their faces--if they could be called faces. And when they -reached a distance of five yards from the silent group of Earthmen, all -threw themselves down flat, their heads burrowing into the spiky grass. - -"Don't get it," Rob Cantrell drawled, hands on hips, legs spread apart -as he stood regarding this strange welcome. "Look; all of them are -deformed. Inbreeding, do you suppose? Or some kind of plague?..." - -"Sir, I believe it's a matter of vitamin deficiency," one of the -biochemists spoke up from the group of Earthmen behind Harris. "I've -been testing a few specimens under the micro. These white leaves--and -look at that grass! It's the sunlight, I think. Not a bit of nutriment -in the soil. Another thing," he pointed out shrewdly; "has anybody seen -any animal-life yet? Ask me, I don't think there _is_ any! These poor -critters are just _starving_ to death! Malnutrition. Years and years of -it...." - -Cantrell scowled, his lips pursed; he said slowly, "You know, Jim, I -believe you're right.... Well, _hell_!" He gestured impatiently to one -of the cooks who had wandered over to join the curious group. "Break -out some solid chow for these ... people. On the double!" - -"Yes _sir_!" - -Grinning with the sheer pleasure of filling a need, several of the crew -followed the cook. They came back with folding plates and collapsible -cups, filled to the brim with succulent stew made of dehydrated -vegetables and pressed beef. These, a bit squeamishly, they put into -the clumsy grasp of the little dwarfed S'zetnurs; laughing, they -watched how they snatched it, turning their backs to their benefactors -as they wolfed down the warm food.... - -The laughter died. For almost instantly three, then a dozen of the -dwarfish creatures were doubled up with nausea and stomach-cramp. -Others, gagging at the first bite, dropped their platters of food. Then -all threw themselves down before the men from Terra, groveling in the -grass at their feet as though begging for mercy.... - -"Lord, we're _stupid_!" Cantrell sighed. "Of _course_ they can't take -our rich food! Probably been living on herbs and stuff for Lord knows -how long...." He moved pityingly toward one groaning dwarf, writhing on -the sward and hugging his stomach. "Hey, you medics! Give me hand--" - -He knelt, trying to roll the sufferer over on his back and slip a -gastrotab between the writhing lips. But, with a look of terrified -pleading, the little S'zetnur covered his face and flopped over -again, hiding his warped features in a clump of pale weeds. With his -fingerless hands he groped along the ground, found Cantrell's foot, and -drew himself up to it, wriggling in worm-like obeisance-- - -Then, before the Earth pilot could move, a swollen tongue crept out and -caressed his bare toes under the plastic sandal-strap. - -Cantrell's reaction was instinctive. His foot came up, in sheer disgust -that any man should lick another's foot like a mongrel-dog. Cursing, he -kicked the little S'zetnur square in the mouth. - -And, the next instant, hated himself. - - * * * * * - -Blood, a thin watery trickle, ran from a corner of the gargoyle mouth; -but the S'zetnur made no move to escape. He merely lay where he was, -dumbly, holding up one arm. Opaque eyes peered warily up through the -weeds. - -"Ah ... to hell with it!" the pilot burst out, furious with himself. He -started to kneel and apologize; saw the futility of it, and turned away -abruptly, striding toward the long silver ship. "Get these screwballs -out of the way!" he snapped, irritable in his shame. "We've got work to -do! We'll have to refine this sola on a night-and-day shift! No rest -for anybody ... and twenty shocks to any of you jet-monkeys I catch -trying to go over the hill! You got that?" - -"Yes _sir_!" - -"Yes-sir, Cap'n!" - -"Yousa! I hears you talkin'!" This from Harris, who had strolled after -him, checking over his charts carefully for the return flight. - -Cantrell glared at him. "And that goes for you, too--Romeo!" he -growled. "No fraternizing with the natives!" - -"_Fraternize!_ With _those_ women?" Harris shuddered, thumbs in the -studded belt of his spacesuit. "Listen, I'd have to be drunker'n I've -ever been on Mars or Venus!" He broke off, looking at his friend with -faint reproach. "You shouldn't have kicked that poor slob, though. -Section 382-XV: _No overt act of violence unless to repell attack_ ... -you read your Handbook lately, chum?" - -Cantrell grunted, struck one fist into his other palm sheepishly. "I -know it. I didn't mean to. But--licking my foot! But I'll make it up to -him. Some way...." - -"Sure!" Harris's eyes softened. Throwing an arm around Cantrell's -shoulders, he locked step with him as they walked up the gangplank. -"Easy enough. If it's a vitamin deficiency, like Jim says, why--it'll -be a cinch for us to help these poor joes! We can ship chemicals from -Terra, every return-trip. Teach 'em to grow food by hydro-vat methods. -We could make a new world for them!" - -The pilot nodded eagerly, his pleasant, alert face full of plans for -those pitifully stunted creatures, now melting back into the pale -jungle in obedience to the crewmen shooing them from the vicinity of -dangerous--and valuable--machinery. - -Cantrell grinned. "We can try vitamin therapy right away," he said -happily. "Take, say, ten of the kids and feed them a test-diet for the -forty days we're here, loading up sola. May take years of treatment to -get them looking like _people_ again, but--we can sure try!" - -They glanced back over their shoulders in unison, two splendid young -giants from another solar system, their eyes warm and bright with a -thing called "brotherly love"--which it had taken their own small -planet many centuries to learn. Together they disappeared into the -rocket ship. - -Watching them from the white-leafed forest, the little people of -S'zetnur turned away sadly, in shame and patient resignation. In a -small clearing beyond sight of the bustling rocket-camp, they held -council, communicating with sharp whistles and facial expressions. - -Then--according to the ancient law which the Elders still -recalled--they dragged forth the woman who wore The Mark on her wrist, -the gleaming Band of Rejection which the Tall Leader of the beautiful -ones had placed there with his own hand. The woman did not cry out -when they bound her, and buried her, still breathing, beside a huge -flowering tree--tossing the baby in with her, according to custom. - -The man Rob Cantrell had kicked in the mouth, likewise, was made ready -for the honor bestowed on him ... and allowed to touch the _Icon_, as -was his right.... - - * * * * * - -The blue-green sun sank slowly, and the night-shift of the Earthmen's -work-camp took over, mining and refining solaranium ore, working -swiftly and efficiently against time. - -Cantrell and Harris slept on identical cots in a central tent, waking -now and then to listen to the night-noises of this strange new -planet. S'zetnu?... It was only a designation, not a name; a term in -inter-stellar Esperanto, meaning "Seventh-from-the-Sun." Tomorrow, -Cantrell thought sleepily, they would find out what the dwarfish -inhabitants called their little world. It must have a name for they -must once have had some sort of language. There were signs, the -ethnologists reported, that they had once been a civilized people. - -The pilot blew a smoke-ring at the damp ceiling of the tent, thinking -and making plans. - -"Harris?" he called softly. "You awake?" - -"Uh-huh. Too damned hot to sleep! Worse than Venus. It isn't the--" - -"--heat; it's the humidity!" Cantrell grinned in the darkness. "Yeah, -yeah. Well, you can stand it for forty days. Say!" He sat up abruptly, -snapping his fingers on sudden thought. "If we could hire a couple of -those little S'zetnurs to locate sola veins for us, we could cut down -the time ... put the Geiger crew on one of the spare refiners! Hire -me one tomorrow, will you? A couple, I mean--two of the _older_ ones, -with rudimentary fingers and toes. They should know their way around -better.... Cripes! You can see how their race has deteriorated, each -generation a little bit worse than the one before ... the poor devils!" - -"Yeah." Harris plucked Cantrell's cigarette-glow from the darkness to -take a drag. "But we're going to fix all that for them! Vital food, in -return for vital solaranium.... Why, it's a natural for trade-relations -between S'zetnu and Terra!" He blew out smoke, returned the cigarette. -"El Presidente's sure to give each of us a citation--with bonus! I can -just see my old lady spending it now. On a Martian vurna-fur coat! -She's been whining for one ever since...." - -Cantrell chuckled drowsily, then sighed. "I wish I hadn't kicked -that little guy. Feel like a heel. Wish I hadn't given that woman my -spacewatch, too, in a loose moment! What time is it?" - -"88-zero, shiptime," the astrogator murmured. "Go to sleep, will ya?... -I wish I was back on Tee with my baby tonight...." - -Silence fell. Outside, the refiners chugged rhythmically, melting away -the solaranium from the crude ore wheeled in by the miners. At a little -distance from the camp, the Geiger experts were moving their counters -over the ground, seeking the highly-fissionable ore. The sola shortage -had shut down the industries of Terra for five years now, and sent -many a rocket-ship out into space, searching, searching ... until now, -at last, the search was ended on a tiny planet Z-north of the System. -Close! Near enough to organize a freight-lane! - -But in the forest, the pallid forest beyond the camp, a gargoyle-woman -lay buried, clinging to her deformed half-idiot baby who had died with -her. Cantrell's spacewatch glinted on her stumpy wrist; mute testimony -that she must be _eliminated_, according to the ancient law that the -Elders remembered. It was strangely unfair--for there were others, many -others in the tribe, who were far more hideous than she! Mitka, who had -only a hole for a nose, and Jura, whose ears were unformed knobs on -either side of her head ... but that, of course, was for the Beautiful -Ones to judge. Their word had always been the Law.... - - * * * * * - -Around noon the next day, Harris reported glumly to the central tent. -Cantrell, hard at work on a sheaf of forms, glanced up, his eyes -preoccupied. - -"Harris? Did you get those guides?" - -Harris spread his hands. "No can find! I've had men out combing the -forest all day. Can't find a sign of those little pixies! They've just -vanished!" - -Cantrell grinned. "Well, they're back again ... look; what do you think -_that_ is? A mirage?" He jerked a nod at a dwarfish figure coming -across the clearing, trailing a long train of lush tropical flowers -that had been woven into a sort of cape. A garland of the same flowers -perched askew atop the scabrous gargoyle-head. The man limped proudly, -presenting himself before Cantrell with a little bow. - -"Well!" The pilot's eyebrows went up. "Who's he, the chief?" Then he -saw the man's swollen lips. "Say ... this is the poor jerk I _kicked_!" -His face softened, and he pointed to a folding chair beside his -cluttered desk. "Sit down, buster. You're hired--if I can only explain -your job to you!" - -Instead, quivering, the stunted S'zetnur covered his face and threw -himself down on his face. - -Harris sighed. "Here we go again!" He knelt and pulled the malformed -dwarf to his feet and shoved him into a chair. - -"Now," Cantrell groaned, "comes the tough part. How can I say in -sign-lingo that we want him to locate sola veins for us? Well--here -goes!" - -He held up a piece of ore, pointing and gesturing. The dwarf eyed it, -bewildered, milky-blue eyes darting from Harris to Cantrell and back -again. Cantrell pointed to the earth-- - -Instantly the little S'zetnur threw himself flat on the ground again, -quivering. He began to sob, holding up one stumpy arm. - -"Oh, _hell_!" The spaceship's captain gave up, looking helplessly at -his astrogator. "Harris? Can you--" - -Harris pulled the S'zetnur to his feet again; shoved him into the -chair; explained with patient gestures about _digging_, about _the -ore_, about _the ship_. The man's eyes, like glowing moonstones, -followed his every motion eagerly, as a stupid child's might. He took -the pebble in his hand obediently, went out to the ship, dug a small -hole in the shadow of the great rocket, and buried the piece of ore. -Then he looked up at Cantrell, towering over him in exasperation. -Harris mopped his forehead. - -"I give up!" he laughed. "It's ... it's as though there was a _glass -wall_ between us! We can see each other, and hear each other. But I -can't make him _understand_. Damned if I understand him, either!" - -Rob Cantrell rubbed his jaw, caressing his stubble of blond beard. - -"If we only knew what's going on in that funny little head," he -muttered. "What do they _want_? Everybody wants something. If we could -just figure out what these S'zetnurs are after--besides centuries of -decent diet, which they obviously need--we could--" - -He glared at the twisted little S'zetnur, decked with flowers that made -his hideous deformity even more noticeable. The man cringed at his -expression, covering his face and peeping through his short arms. Then, -emboldened, catching one of the pilot's hands between his own stumps, -he examined it admiringly, tracing each finger with his gaze. Cantrell -scowled and jerked his hand away impatiently. - -The S'zetnur covered his face and threw himself flat on the ground. -Cantrell cursed and mopped his streaming forehead and neck. - -"I don't get it," Harris said, scratching his head. "I just don't get -it ... hey! Maybe if we take him out to that valley a mile from camp, -we can put over the idea of his locating more sola for us. When he sees -our men mining the stuff--" - -"Sound idea," Cantrell grunted. "Come on!" - - * * * * * - -Supporting the stumbling dwarf between them, the two Earthmen strode -across the camp and down the long hill toward the distant sound of the -pick-and-shovel crew. Two small a. g. barges sailed past them on their -way down, loaded with ore and manned by a single sweat-streaked miner, -headed for the nearest refinery. - -As they neared the valley, where last night the Geiger crew had located -a rich streak of solaranium, the pilot and the astrogator noticed that -their small captive was growing very nervous. Stumbling along between -them as fast as his stumpy feet could walk, he glanced first at Harris, -then at Cantrell, his expressive features working with agitation. - -When they reached a small ravine, its cliff-like walls pitted with -many small caves, the little dwarf began to bleat and squirm in their -grasp like a hysterical child being dragged to the dentist. Over his -flower-decked head, the two Earthmen looked at each other, and shrugged. - -"_Now_ what?" Cantrell drawled. "This valley taboo or something, you -suppose?" - -"Beats me!" - -Harris stopped, pulling the little S'zetnur around and pointing to a -broad streak of sola inside the mouth of one cave. He made digging -motions. He pointed to himself and Cantrell, beaming and nodding. - -"Rock," he labored. "Nicee rockee! Find for us?... Oh hell!" He laughed -at his own absurd pidgin-English, then resorted to gestures again. He -pointed to the cave, to the little dwarf, to Cantrell-- - -The S'zetnur shook his head violently, clapping both stunted hands -over his face. An agonized bleat issued from his twisted larynx, and -he threw himself flat before Cantrell, groveling and holding up one -arm--then, as the captain took an idle step toward the cave, he flung -his tiny malformed body before the entrance, shaking his head and -beating himself in the face with his fingerless hands. - -Cantrell looked at Harris, who scratched his head, grinning. - -"Beats me!" he repeated helplessly. "Guess they don't _want_ us to have -the sola--!" his eyes hardened slowly. "Yeah--maybe that's it! Maybe -they're--" He stiffened, glancing nervously toward the white jangle -that pressed closely about them on all sides. "_Maybe they're arming -right now--planning an attack--_" - -Rob Cantrell's pleasant face changed. Eyes narrowed, mouth tight, he -let his gaze flicker over the working men who were under his command, -dependent on his judgment for their safety. His gaze returned to the -small S'zetnur, feebly trying to block the entrance to that natural -hole in the cliff's side. Or ... _was_ it a natural hole? Cantrell's -keen eyes became observant, noting worn places in the rock-- - -"There's something in this cave," Harris grunted. "Something this -little monkey doesn't want us to see ... a secret weapon, maybe? -Sa-ay!" His pleasant face hardened, like Cantrell's. "Maybe these -cookies aren't as dumb and helpless as they look! Maybe they've got -something that could wipe out our whole expedition!" - -Cantrell nodded and strode forward, jerking the bleating dwarf aside -with one sweep of his muscular arm. The cave was not deep; and, -Cantrell noted with tensed nerves, there were fresh flower-petals on -the floor of the small opening. Petals like those on the flower-wreath -of this fantastically decorated little S'zetnur. - -The captain groped inside. Harris stepped forward, shoving the dwarf -away as he flung himself at Cantrell again like a furious kitten. -There was, the Earthmen both saw at once, something inside. A kind of -box, crudely made of white wood, as though a clumsy child had put it -together. There was no lock, Cantrell raised the lid-- - -Inside, dry and crumbling, was a small doll made of brown clay. Harris -and Cantrell stared at it, amazed at its perfection of modeling. It -was, or seemed to be, a very good image of an Earthman. Certainly, -it was not intended to portray one of the stunted little S'zetnurs, -for the legs and feet were perfect, the hands beautifully formed, the -facial details fine and delicate--though there was about the thing, -Cantrell noted, an odd expression of cruelty and arrogance-- - -"Well! What d'ya know?" he snapped. "A graven image! The aborigines on -Terra used to make these images of an enemy--just before slipping him a -poison-dart in the back! Juju ... and they made sure it worked!" - -He whirled on the little S'zetnur, who was whistling shrilly now, -jumping up and down in agitated protest. - -At that moment, one of the diggers shouted a warning. Cantrell turned, -to see beyond the handful of workers in the valley a small army of -S'zetnurs advancing on them from the jungle-edge. Backs to the cliff -wall, Harris and Cantrell snatched out their blasters. The captain -yelled, warning the unarmed workers to make a dash for the camp: - -"_General alert! Prepare for attack!_" - - * * * * * - -Then the dwarfs were upon them, armed rather pathetically with clubs -strapped to their fingerless hands. Advancing in a rough semi-circle -upon Cantrell and Harris, and completely ignoring the half-dozen -workers who dashed past them, the little S'zetnurs closed in. Lips -tight, eyes narrowed, the Earthmen waited until they were within ten -feet-- - -Then, methodically, they let go with their blasters, searing the -attackers from left to right. - -Screaming, they went down, half-charred bodies and burning hair. One -little creature, luckier or bolder than the rest, struck a blow that -numbed Harris's left arm. Cantrell blazed away at him. He fell, an -unrecognizable mass of ashes. - -The men from Terra pressed against the cliff wall, panting, their eyes -raking the pale jungle for the next wave of attackers. - -"How d'you like these babies?" Cantrell snarled. "Planning to jump us -all the time--And we were feeling sorry for them!" - -They waited, tensed for the next attack. In the distance they could -hear the siren on the spaceship, calling a general alert. Calling in -the Geiger crews, and the diggers, and the ethnologists. _Natives -hostile, natives hostile!_ the signal was screaming-- - -Cantrell turned his head briefly--and stiffened as he saw the small -S'zetnur decked in flowers. He was still alive, crouched just inside -the cave, clutching the mud doll and whimpering softly. The captain -glared at him, hard-eyed. - -"Ambassador, huh?" He smiled without mirth. "To keep us from being -suspicious of this juju-attack, until it was too late!" He jerked his -head at Harris. "Blast him! He's a spy, isn't he? Been all over the -camp. Knows just where everything's located--" - -The astrogator peered at the huddled creature nursing the doll. He -raised his gun, then swallowed hard. "Rob--I can't do it! Cold like -this, I mean ... can't we take him prisoner? A hostage?" - -Cantrell glanced at him, then at the pitiful figure in the cave. - -"Don't be a damned fool!" he snapped. "If he gets away and brings -reinforcements, none of us'll get off this apple alive! You lost your -guts or something?" - -Harris scuffed his toe, looking down. "No-o.... It's just that.... -Well, hell!" his gruff voice cracked. "He's so ... _helpless_!" - -"Helpless, my eye!" Rob Cantrell growled. "There may be thousands of -these joes, closing in on us right now from that jungle! _Millions!_ -All right, I'm in command," he said quietly. "Make a run for the camp. -I ... I'll do it...." - -His buddy tossed him a grateful look, born of their long-time -friendship. With another look at the silent wall of forest, he sprinted -in the direction of the camp. Once he paused, wincing, as the blare of -a ray-gun sounded behind him. Then Cantrell caught up with him, his -eyes pained, his lips white. - -"Poor slob!" he muttered through clenched teeth as he ran. "Poor ugly -little slob.... He kept shielding that damn doll with his body!" - -They burst into the clearing, where the lieutenants were already -rounding up those of the ship's crew who were trained to fight. Others, -the workmen and the experts, were piling into the ship for safety. The -siren kept up its woman-like screaming: _Hostile natives, hostile!_ - -Cantrell and Harris stopped in the center of the clearing, to view -the ordered shambles with sick eyes. They glanced at each other, and -shrugged. - -"All right!" the captain's clear voice rang out. "Prepare to take off! -Repeating: Prepare to take off! Abandon all equipment not vital to -crew. Repeating...." - -The men from Terra were efficient men, quick, intelligent, and -well-organized under the pilot and astrogator who commanded their -expedition. In exactly 8-3 kilos, shiptime, men and machinery were -loaded aboard the big silver rocket. Fire belched from her twin jets. -She took the atmosphere of the planet designated as S'zetnur like a -pale streak of flame. In another kilo, she was bulleting into free -flight. - -Cantrell, the pilot, fixed her automatic on "Sol-Terra," then strolled -back to the chart room, where Harris was rechecking their line of -flight. He sat down on the plastine desk, lighting a cigarette. Harris -took it from him, inhaled a deep drag, and handed it back. They looked -at each other, smiling wryly. - -"Well ..." Rob Cantrell sighed. "There goes that presidential citation -you were yapping about--with bonus. We'll be lucky if we keep our -rating!" - -"Oh, it won't be that bad," Harris predicted cheerfully. "I mean, -nobody could expect us to form a trade-alliance with a bunch of -hot-heads like that! Graven images! Tricked-up spies!" He spat -disgustedly. "And all because we wanted one shipload of lousy sola!..." - -Cantrell nodded bitterly. "And we could have done so much for them in -return. A new world, I think you said!..." He emitted a short laugh, -edged with cynicism. "Well ... Terra-Government can't afford to ship -from a hostile planet. Too damn expensive. We'll just have to equip -another expedition and start looking again...." - -Harris nodded absently, his eyes thoughtful. "Uh-huh.... But if we -could only have understood those little monkeys! Maybe they didn't mind -our taking the sola. Maybe it was something else.... Rob," he blurted, -"one of the junior ethnologists has a theory; did you hear? He...." - -"Junior ethnologists have always got a theory!" the captain snorted. -"Lack of experience!" - -"Yeah, but ..." Harris pursued. "This kid says he thinks those little -S'zetnurs were a cult of beauty-worshippers. You know? Like they used -to have on Venus? Eugenic mating--killing off the imperfect ones. He -says they just don't understand about nutrition; that's why it's so -tragic that they're all deformed and diseased now. None of them are -beauties any more, and they don't know why. But when they saw us...." - -"Nuts!" said Cantrell rudely. - -"Yeah, but.... The doll. Maybe it was an image of the way _they_ used -to be. A sort of pattern for them to remember.... And you know how that -poor joe kept ... _looking_ at us? The one all tricked-up in flowers? -This ethno thinks they sent him to be mated with one of our women...." - -"Good God!" the pilot laughed. - -"... and that poor slob of a woman, who acted so upset when you -strapped your spacewatch around her wrist. The kid thinks you marked -her for death, and...." - -"Oh, go soak your head! And that junior ethnologist's, too!" Cantrell -chuckled. "I understood those babies, all right! They're just a bunch -of greedy, ignorant morons, who were determined not to let a shipful of -strangers cart off any of their lousy little planet! You and your ... -glass wall!" - -He punched Harris on the shoulder in affectionate scorn. The astrogator -grinned feebly; then with more assurance, because Cantrell was his -friend and he trusted his judgment. - -"Yeah ..." he said. "Yeah, Rob; I guess you're right...." - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Conquistadors Come, by M. E. Counselman - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONQUISTADORS COME *** - -***** This file should be named 63982.txt or 63982.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/9/8/63982/ - -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 print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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