Star Ship on Saddle Mountain (8 page)
spite of some of the wild suppositions he had read
about, there was no reason to believe that beings from some other
world could not be quite similar to ourselves. Given the same <
conditions, they should be. As they stood talking by the cylinder
panel doorway, Charlie felt suddenly a little embarrassed, as he
noticed one alien off to the side looking at him. The fellow smiled
quickly and winked at Charlie, as they entered the panel
compartment, and Charlie realized that one alien at least must have
been listening to his thought impulses concerning them.
Charlie shrugged his shoulders as he turned back to
Navajo. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to be at least halfway
friendly toward them. It might even help him to escape. They hadn't
been gone long when they returned. Charlie watched as they brought
out several stacks of the black protective clothing and piled them
on the deck. As the bright shafts of sunlight struck them now, he
noticed, they wore a plastic-looking type of sandal-and-sock
combination shoe, again reminding him of Mercury. But most of all,
Charlie was dazzled by that shimmering blue cobalt cape that looked
like the clearest sparkling blue-green ocean water he had ever
seen. And with the gold border and its silver lining inside,
Charlie thought the short cape was one part of their uniform he
wouldn't mind having. And a pair of those track shorts, with the
side cut. Then Charlie was aware that the alien leader was again
repeating an impulse to him.
dress is the scarlet-bordered gold cloth, of this same type. You
shall be furnished proper dress, whenever you—"
"I don't want any other clothes!" Charlie replied
quickly, resisting the seeming finality that the change of clothes
implied, the last fading hope for escape. "I—I like the ones I
have."
The alien looked him over, as though for the first
time, all the way from Uncle John's faded old khaki army shirt,
down to the worn blue levis. The alien's eyes showed some interest
as he looked closer at the star-wheeled silver spurs, with their
turquoise mounting, on Charlie's battered riding boots. Charlie
glanced down too, realizing how his tight, dusty levis must look to
them in their bright, clean clothing. But he would not make further
comparison.
"You have, Primitive, the typical tribal
philosophy, the view of a world that is too small for itself.
However, there is time," said the alien leader's impulse, "whenever
you desire more practical garments."
Turning abruptly as Charlie glared at them, the
aliens went across the deck to the panel door, their thoughts once
more going into high gear. Charlie felt sore. Not only at the
aliens, but at himself. For here and now, he was the only Earthman,
the only one of his world, and these aliens had patronized him,
treating him not only like a child but like a stupid one as well.
Well, he'd show these aliens. Sure, maybe they were highly
civilized and all that, but there were things on his world which
were not on theirs. If there were not, they wouldn't have come
here, Charlie reasoned to himself.
What were they on the Earth for, if they hadn't
come for something—something they wanted awfully bad, to come all
the way from Saturn.
"Tribal philosophy," Charlie said aloud. "Nav, I
reckon maybe those aliens think we can't get out, huh. Well, let
them think it, Nav. Just let them think we won't try again." |
vast empty tier, he heard a noise—over in the direction of the
cylinder compartment, where the aliens had gone. Something had just
fallen, making a noisy clatter on the stairway inside the cylinder.
For some moments there was dead silence. Then he saw the panel open
slowly. There, standing alone, was an alien.
His first doubts passed quickly as Charlie stared
back at the slim figure in the doorway, an alien somewhat smaller
than the others. This one was no bigger or taller than he was,
Charlie quickly observed, and he seemed much younger than the
others. But as Charlie looked at the young alien, wondering what he
wanted, the fellow smiled a little. Then the mild impulse he had
heard before came to Charlie.
"I am Dondee. I am the Primate's son," Charlie
interpreted the mild-mannered mental impulse. The young alien
walked toward him. "I talked with you, last night."
"I—I’m sure glad to meet you. Dondee—that's your
name?"
Slang for Charles! Everybody calls me that."
"If you recall, Charles, I cannot use slang in the
Interplanetary tongue. At least, not in routine conversation. You
of course can say it, since you make sound with your voice as well
as send the impulse with your mental gland waves. You remember I
told you I couldn't?"
"Sure," Charlie said with a quick grin, "I remember
now."
"I like the proper name of Charles very much."
"Okay," Charlie said, "shake!"
"In my world," said Dondee, "it is the polite
custom to greet a stranger by holding his face between your hands
for a little time, as you give your first thoughts of greeting." He
demonstrated.
fine custom."
"Can't you talk with your mouth, Dondee? I mean,
make a sound when you send the wave impulse out?"
"Oh, some people can. But usually, we prefer the
higher form of speech. Speaking in the more physical language is a
thing most of our world has grown away from, Charles. You see, we
can talk for days on the higher mental level, while those who would
use the purely physical sound voice should tire very easily in a
far shorter time."
"Did your world ever talk with mouths,
Dondee?"
"Oh yes. It was our most ancient form of
communication. But as we became more civilized, we also became lazy
and took advantage of the higher and easier means of exchanging
thought. You see, Charles, civilization has faults, too! But we did
use the more primitive way of speaking, far back in our
history."
"I don't see anything so primitive about talking
with your mouth. Making sound and all. What's the matter with using
just plain words?"
response. "Also, Charles, your own physical tongue could never
possibly form the words in the high speed exchange that the mental
language does."
"One thing I like about it, Dondee. You can laugh
or just keep your mouth shut, and still talk fast! It makes it
pretty easy. At least, it looks easy for you."
"It is easy, Charles. I shall be glad to teach you
the Interplanetary tongue, give you some speed up, if you will tell
me things about your world, Charles."
Charlie was smiling, then he laughed as Dondee's
thoughts came to him. The alien boy frowned.
"Why do you feel amused?"
"I was just figuring, about your face, Dondee! It's
kind of long. The shape of it, I mean. You remind me a little bit
of my horse, Navajo—" and Charlie pointed to the old horse over at
the panoramic view.
Charlie's face straightened and the smile faded
away as he saw the angry flash, the sparks of gold in the alien
boy's eyes. The big green pupils were very bright. Charlie also got
the tumbling thought impulses. Then a second later the alien boy's
arms were up swinging, and Charlie staggered back— taken by
surprise. Then they were fighting hard, as Charlie got on his
guard! In another minute Charlie landed on the deck of the empty
tier, punching back as he fought off Dondee's wild attack. Swinging
hard, he was able to regain his feet again. Then he caught Dondee
off guard. The alien
boy staggered as he got up from the floor. Dondee
stood there, dazed, as Charlie held back the intended punch.
Feeling his jaw tenderly, Dondee looked again, his eyes very wide,
as he stared at Charlie's clenched fist.
Apparently more curious than afraid, he looked at
Charlie's face again, then pointed at his fist. Wide-eyed with
surprise, Charlie too looked at his own fist as he lowered it. He
then realized that the alien boy had not known about fighting with
his fists closed, and using them to pound an opponent. He had
fought Charlie with an open-handed, slashing blow, something like
judo wrestlers used.
"Is—is that the way," Dondee's impulse came to
Charlie as the alien boy breathed hard, "—the way your world
fights?"
"It sure is!" Charlie replied, getting over his
momentary surprise and once more on his guard. "If you think I
can't—"
"No, Charles," came the somewhat analytical impulse
from Dondee, "I am not concerned as to which of us can, through
brute force, settle the point of order. Or, as your mind's picture
sends it, beat up the other. In fact, Charles, I am quite sorry
that I lost my control and acted in so primitive a manner."
Charlie was a little startled with the apology, or
what seemed like it, for Dondee had by no means lost the fight. He
was a tough character to come up against. Charlie quickly tagged
his opponent. But he couldn't back down since Dondee had started
the fight.
"Primitive—just what do you mean by that
crack—"
"All temporary loss of reason is primitive,
Charles. But it was because you said I looked like the animal—your
horse."
Charlie grinned suddenly, understanding now for the
first time why Dondee had attacked him.
for my attack upon your person."
moment, then back to Charlie. He stretched out his hand.
"See, Charles, I can do one thing of your world
already— one of your customs."
"I guess we're friends again, Dondee ... if you
want to be."
"I—" came the impulse, then Dondee paused,
frowning. He glanced up at the ceiling of the tier as he tried to
find the right words. Then he looked back quickly at Charlie,
smiling happily.
"I sure do, Charles!"
difficult for me to use any of the higher mental level informal
speech, and get it into clear thought, Charles. I am surprised that
you were able to distinguish too, that I used your
colloquialism."
"Thanks," Charlie said.
"Your mind is amazingly receptive for a prim—"
Dondee's face showed a momentary flush of
embarrassment, then he grinned quickly at Charlie, and Charlie got
the impulse, "Well, you know what I mean!"
understood that it was hard for him to break the habit of using the
word and was amused by his use of it, Dondee laughed suddenly.
"Your thought impulses are very clear, Charles,
even though you speak at the same time."
"Thanks, Dondee. And I promise not to get sore
about it, if you slip up any time and call me a primitive. I figure
you're pretty much used to saying it on your world, so it's hard to
stop doing it right off."
"Thanks, Charles. But I'll try not to forget."
The morning sped by, and the desert sun was high
and brilliant everywhere outside the star ship. But inside, on the
lower dome tier, Charlie and Dondee talked on, bringing each other
up to date on things of each other's world and things they liked
and disliked. They found that, no matter where humans come from,
boys have about the same hopes
and ambitions for the future, and the same love for
adventure. And as for Charlie, talking to Dondee did a lot to brush
away the last traces of the fears and suspicions he had built up
about the aliens, these men on a star ship from another planet. He
no longer believed that at any moment they might destroy him. But
to his most important question concerning his freedom, Dondee could
give him no real answer.
"It will probably be whatever the commanding
navigator has ordered, Charles. I am fairly sure that he will not
do anything with you here, on your world. That will wait for the
return journey to the Barrier World. The capture of you, Charles,
after you discovered us, was necessary. I doubt if the navigator
will permit you to leave the flagship again, before we return to
the Capitol City."
For a fleeting moment, Charlie let his thoughts
dwell on the bright sunshine outside, and the idea that the giant
in between the Saddle Mountain peaks was sure to be spotted before
the day was over. But Dondee caught the brief thought, beckoning
Charlie to follow him over to the broad sweep of panoramic view. He
did.
"See, Charles—this ship could not likely be
detected."
might let me go outside, just for a little while with Navajo,
before we take off?"
"No, Charles. That wouldn't be possible now. The
discus flagship—this ship we're in I mean, was sealed last night.
The last job of the exploratory mission was completed this
morning."
"It's all over?"
"Yes, Charles. The next free air you breathe will
be on my own world, Charles, in the eternal mists of the Blue
Mountain country where I live, under the Barrier that hides us from
the beauty of the Sun."
Numbed by the full impact of Dondee's impulse,
Charlie was also aware that the alien boy felt sorry for him. He
felt sure, too, that if there were any way Dondee could help he
would be glad to do it. Possibly even to helping him escape. At
this thought, Dondee looked at him again, nodding his
agreement.
"But I cannot help, Charles. I would like to, just
as much as I would also like you to see my homeland as I have seen
yours. But I can do nothing, Charles."
"It sort of looks like that, Dondee. I mean, it
looks as if I'll be seeing your world as you saw mine. Whether I
like the idea or not." '
Dondee put out his hand, for a brief moment resting
it on Charlie's shoulder.
"That's all right, Dondee. I get the idea of how
you feel. Thanks a lot."
"You have had no food," Dondee said, suddenly happy
that he could change the subject. "Shall I bring you some,
where we can
eat?"
about, there was no reason to believe that beings from some other
world could not be quite similar to ourselves. Given the same <
conditions, they should be. As they stood talking by the cylinder
panel doorway, Charlie felt suddenly a little embarrassed, as he
noticed one alien off to the side looking at him. The fellow smiled
quickly and winked at Charlie, as they entered the panel
compartment, and Charlie realized that one alien at least must have
been listening to his thought impulses concerning them.
Charlie shrugged his shoulders as he turned back to
Navajo. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to be at least halfway
friendly toward them. It might even help him to escape. They hadn't
been gone long when they returned. Charlie watched as they brought
out several stacks of the black protective clothing and piled them
on the deck. As the bright shafts of sunlight struck them now, he
noticed, they wore a plastic-looking type of sandal-and-sock
combination shoe, again reminding him of Mercury. But most of all,
Charlie was dazzled by that shimmering blue cobalt cape that looked
like the clearest sparkling blue-green ocean water he had ever
seen. And with the gold border and its silver lining inside,
Charlie thought the short cape was one part of their uniform he
wouldn't mind having. And a pair of those track shorts, with the
side cut. Then Charlie was aware that the alien leader was again
repeating an impulse to him.
"It is not called a uniform,
Primitive. We are four thousand steps beyond the military era.
These garments you see are the standard of the world,
our
world, with some
variations.
dress is the scarlet-bordered gold cloth, of this same type. You
shall be furnished proper dress, whenever you—"
"I don't want any other clothes!" Charlie replied
quickly, resisting the seeming finality that the change of clothes
implied, the last fading hope for escape. "I—I like the ones I
have."
The alien looked him over, as though for the first
time, all the way from Uncle John's faded old khaki army shirt,
down to the worn blue levis. The alien's eyes showed some interest
as he looked closer at the star-wheeled silver spurs, with their
turquoise mounting, on Charlie's battered riding boots. Charlie
glanced down too, realizing how his tight, dusty levis must look to
them in their bright, clean clothing. But he would not make further
comparison.
"You have, Primitive, the typical tribal
philosophy, the view of a world that is too small for itself.
However, there is time," said the alien leader's impulse, "whenever
you desire more practical garments."
Turning abruptly as Charlie glared at them, the
aliens went across the deck to the panel door, their thoughts once
more going into high gear. Charlie felt sore. Not only at the
aliens, but at himself. For here and now, he was the only Earthman,
the only one of his world, and these aliens had patronized him,
treating him not only like a child but like a stupid one as well.
Well, he'd show these aliens. Sure, maybe they were highly
civilized and all that, but there were things on his world which
were not on theirs. If there were not, they wouldn't have come
here, Charlie reasoned to himself.
What were they on the Earth for, if they hadn't
come for something—something they wanted awfully bad, to come all
the way from Saturn.
"Tribal philosophy," Charlie said aloud. "Nav, I
reckon maybe those aliens think we can't get out, huh. Well, let
them think it, Nav. Just let them think we won't try again." |
C H AP T E R S I X
The Primate's
Son
vast empty tier, he heard a noise—over in the direction of the
cylinder compartment, where the aliens had gone. Something had just
fallen, making a noisy clatter on the stairway inside the cylinder.
For some moments there was dead silence. Then he saw the panel open
slowly. There, standing alone, was an alien.
His first doubts passed quickly as Charlie stared
back at the slim figure in the doorway, an alien somewhat smaller
than the others. This one was no bigger or taller than he was,
Charlie quickly observed, and he seemed much younger than the
others. But as Charlie looked at the young alien, wondering what he
wanted, the fellow smiled a little. Then the mild impulse he had
heard before came to Charlie.
"I am Dondee. I am the Primate's son," Charlie
interpreted the mild-mannered mental impulse. The young alien
walked toward him. "I talked with you, last night."
"I—I’m sure glad to meet you. Dondee—that's your
name?"
"Yes," came the eager impulse,
somewhat bolder now. "I remembered what you said about wanting to
meet me. I wanted to see you too. What is your
name?"
Slang for Charles! Everybody calls me that."
"If you recall, Charles, I cannot use slang in the
Interplanetary tongue. At least, not in routine conversation. You
of course can say it, since you make sound with your voice as well
as send the impulse with your mental gland waves. You remember I
told you I couldn't?"
"Sure," Charlie said with a quick grin, "I remember
now."
"I like the proper name of Charles very much."
"Okay," Charlie said, "shake!"
The alien boy looked at his
outstretched hand, frowning a little. Then he smiled happily.
"Oh—it, it's one of
your
world's customs!" and Dondee took the offered
hand and shook hands vigorously.
"In my world," said Dondee, "it is the polite
custom to greet a stranger by holding his face between your hands
for a little time, as you give your first thoughts of greeting." He
demonstrated.
"It
sure
is different from our world,
here," Charlie said, a little uncomfortably, "and sort of—well,
more personal."
fine custom."
"Can't you talk with your mouth, Dondee? I mean,
make a sound when you send the wave impulse out?"
"Oh, some people can. But usually, we prefer the
higher form of speech. Speaking in the more physical language is a
thing most of our world has grown away from, Charles. You see, we
can talk for days on the higher mental level, while those who would
use the purely physical sound voice should tire very easily in a
far shorter time."
"Did your world ever talk with mouths,
Dondee?"
"Oh yes. It was our most ancient form of
communication. But as we became more civilized, we also became lazy
and took advantage of the higher and easier means of exchanging
thought. You see, Charles, civilization has faults, too! But we did
use the more primitive way of speaking, far back in our
history."
"I don't see anything so primitive about talking
with your mouth. Making sound and all. What's the matter with using
just plain words?"
"They are too difficult to speak,
Charles, to interchange among the many world islands, on which
there are still dozens
more
variations among languages. That is why the
Barrier World, my Saturn, does like most of the other more
civilized worlds. It is not conformity for conformity's sake,
Charles, but for reasons of convenient exchange of thought for
broader knowledge, that we use the Interplanetary
tongue."
"But I still like to hear myself,
when I talk," Charlie said with a grin, "even if I
can
understand your
telepathy. Besides, it's kind of hard to do."
response. "Also, Charles, your own physical tongue could never
possibly form the words in the high speed exchange that the mental
language does."
"One thing I like about it, Dondee. You can laugh
or just keep your mouth shut, and still talk fast! It makes it
pretty easy. At least, it looks easy for you."
"It is easy, Charles. I shall be glad to teach you
the Interplanetary tongue, give you some speed up, if you will tell
me things about your world, Charles."
Charlie was smiling, then he laughed as Dondee's
thoughts came to him. The alien boy frowned.
"Why do you feel amused?"
"I was just figuring, about your face, Dondee! It's
kind of long. The shape of it, I mean. You remind me a little bit
of my horse, Navajo—" and Charlie pointed to the old horse over at
the panoramic view.
Charlie's face straightened and the smile faded
away as he saw the angry flash, the sparks of gold in the alien
boy's eyes. The big green pupils were very bright. Charlie also got
the tumbling thought impulses. Then a second later the alien boy's
arms were up swinging, and Charlie staggered back— taken by
surprise. Then they were fighting hard, as Charlie got on his
guard! In another minute Charlie landed on the deck of the empty
tier, punching back as he fought off Dondee's wild attack. Swinging
hard, he was able to regain his feet again. Then he caught Dondee
off guard. The alien
boy staggered as he got up from the floor. Dondee
stood there, dazed, as Charlie held back the intended punch.
Feeling his jaw tenderly, Dondee looked again, his eyes very wide,
as he stared at Charlie's clenched fist.
Apparently more curious than afraid, he looked at
Charlie's face again, then pointed at his fist. Wide-eyed with
surprise, Charlie too looked at his own fist as he lowered it. He
then realized that the alien boy had not known about fighting with
his fists closed, and using them to pound an opponent. He had
fought Charlie with an open-handed, slashing blow, something like
judo wrestlers used.
"Is—is that the way," Dondee's impulse came to
Charlie as the alien boy breathed hard, "—the way your world
fights?"
"It sure is!" Charlie replied, getting over his
momentary surprise and once more on his guard. "If you think I
can't—"
"No, Charles," came the somewhat analytical impulse
from Dondee, "I am not concerned as to which of us can, through
brute force, settle the point of order. Or, as your mind's picture
sends it, beat up the other. In fact, Charles, I am quite sorry
that I lost my control and acted in so primitive a manner."
Charlie was a little startled with the apology, or
what seemed like it, for Dondee had by no means lost the fight. He
was a tough character to come up against. Charlie quickly tagged
his opponent. But he couldn't back down since Dondee had started
the fight.
"Primitive—just what do you mean by that
crack—"
"All temporary loss of reason is primitive,
Charles. But it was because you said I looked like the animal—your
horse."
Charlie grinned suddenly, understanding now for the
first time why Dondee had attacked him.
"I get it, Dondee. You thought I
meant it in a bad way.
j
But I didn't, Dondee. Honest."
for my attack upon your person."
"I'm kind of sorry too," Charlie
said. "I only said that about your face, because it
is
a little bit longer
than mine. Besides, your face is good-looking, Dondee, or I
wouldn't of said you looked a little bit like Navajo. Nav is my
best friend, so that ought to prove that I don't think you're a bad
guy."
moment, then back to Charlie. He stretched out his hand.
"Charles," he said,
"shake!"
"See, Charles, I can do one thing of your world
already— one of your customs."
"I guess we're friends again, Dondee ... if you
want to be."
"I—" came the impulse, then Dondee paused,
frowning. He glanced up at the ceiling of the tier as he tried to
find the right words. Then he looked back quickly at Charlie,
smiling happily.
"I sure do, Charles!"
"Doggone your hide—I almost felt
as if that impulse meant
I sure
do
,
Dondee—the
way I got it."
difficult for me to use any of the higher mental level informal
speech, and get it into clear thought, Charles. I am surprised that
you were able to distinguish too, that I used your
colloquialism."
"Thanks," Charlie said.
"Your mind is amazingly receptive for a prim—"
Dondee's face showed a momentary flush of
embarrassment, then he grinned quickly at Charlie, and Charlie got
the impulse, "Well, you know what I mean!"
"Oh go ahead," Charlie said, "Go
on and say it! I don't mind. You were going to say
primitive
, weren't
you?"
understood that it was hard for him to break the habit of using the
word and was amused by his use of it, Dondee laughed suddenly.
"Your thought impulses are very clear, Charles,
even though you speak at the same time."
"Thanks, Dondee. And I promise not to get sore
about it, if you slip up any time and call me a primitive. I figure
you're pretty much used to saying it on your world, so it's hard to
stop doing it right off."
"Thanks, Charles. But I'll try not to forget."
The morning sped by, and the desert sun was high
and brilliant everywhere outside the star ship. But inside, on the
lower dome tier, Charlie and Dondee talked on, bringing each other
up to date on things of each other's world and things they liked
and disliked. They found that, no matter where humans come from,
boys have about the same hopes
and ambitions for the future, and the same love for
adventure. And as for Charlie, talking to Dondee did a lot to brush
away the last traces of the fears and suspicions he had built up
about the aliens, these men on a star ship from another planet. He
no longer believed that at any moment they might destroy him. But
to his most important question concerning his freedom, Dondee could
give him no real answer.
"It will probably be whatever the commanding
navigator has ordered, Charles. I am fairly sure that he will not
do anything with you here, on your world. That will wait for the
return journey to the Barrier World. The capture of you, Charles,
after you discovered us, was necessary. I doubt if the navigator
will permit you to leave the flagship again, before we return to
the Capitol City."
For a fleeting moment, Charlie let his thoughts
dwell on the bright sunshine outside, and the idea that the giant
in between the Saddle Mountain peaks was sure to be spotted before
the day was over. But Dondee caught the brief thought, beckoning
Charlie to follow him over to the broad sweep of panoramic view. He
did.
"See, Charles—this ship could not likely be
detected."
As Charlie looked, he lost his
last small hope of what he felt sure the ship's presence, shining
brilliantly in the daytime, would do. The star ship's once-bright
surface now had taken on the rust and crevice-line
look—
exactly like the surface of Saddle
Mountain!
It was as good a job of
camouflage as any chameleon he had ever seen.
might let me go outside, just for a little while with Navajo,
before we take off?"
"No, Charles. That wouldn't be possible now. The
discus flagship—this ship we're in I mean, was sealed last night.
The last job of the exploratory mission was completed this
morning."
"It's all over?"
"Yes, Charles. The next free air you breathe will
be on my own world, Charles, in the eternal mists of the Blue
Mountain country where I live, under the Barrier that hides us from
the beauty of the Sun."
Numbed by the full impact of Dondee's impulse,
Charlie was also aware that the alien boy felt sorry for him. He
felt sure, too, that if there were any way Dondee could help he
would be glad to do it. Possibly even to helping him escape. At
this thought, Dondee looked at him again, nodding his
agreement.
"But I cannot help, Charles. I would like to, just
as much as I would also like you to see my homeland as I have seen
yours. But I can do nothing, Charles."
"It sort of looks like that, Dondee. I mean, it
looks as if I'll be seeing your world as you saw mine. Whether I
like the idea or not." '
Dondee put out his hand, for a brief moment resting
it on Charlie's shoulder.
"That's all right, Dondee. I get the idea of how
you feel. Thanks a lot."
"You have had no food," Dondee said, suddenly happy
that he could change the subject. "Shall I bring you some,
-is
where we can
eat?"
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