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Authors: John Wyndham

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They came at length to a small cage, occupied by a solitary curious creature which stood erect upon two legs though it appeared to be designed to use four.

"This," said the guide, "is one of our most puzzling finds. We have not yet been able to classify it into any known category. There has been such a rush that the specialists have not as yet had time to accord it the attention it deserves. Obviously, it comes from an advanced date, for it bears some fur, though this is localized in patches, notably on the head and face...

"It is particularly adept upon two feet, which points to a long line of development. And yet, for all we know of it, the creature might have occurred fully developed and without any evolution—though of course you will realize that such a thing could not possibly happen...

"Among the other odd facts which our preliminary observation has revealed is that, although its teeth are indisputably those of a herbivore, it has carnivorous tastes— altogether a most puzzling creature. We hope to find others before the examination of the Valley is ended...

The creature raised its head and looked at them from sullen eyes. Its mouth opened but instead of the expected bellow there came from it a stream of clattering gibberish which it accompanied with curious motions of its forelimbs.

The interest of some of the class was at last aroused. Here was a real mystery about which the experts could as yet claim to know little more than themselves. The young Sadul, for instance, was far more intrigued by it than he had been by those monsters with the polysyllabic names. He drew closer to the bars, observing it intently.

The creature's eyes met his own and held them. More queer jabber issued from its mouth. It advanced to the front of the cage, coming quite near to him. Sadul held his ground—it did not look dangerous. With one foot it smoothed the soil of the floor, then squatted down to scrabble in the dirt.

"What's it doing?" asked someone.

"Probably scratching for something to eat," suggested another.

Sadul continued to watch with interest. When the guide moved the party on he contrived to remain behind unnoticed. He was untroubled by the presence of other spectators, since most of them had gravitated to watch the larger reptiles feed.

After a while the creature rose to its feet again and extended one paw towards the ground. It had scrawled a series of queer lines in the dust. They made neither pattern nor picture. They did not seem to mean anything. Yet there was something regular about them.

Sadul looked blankly at them and then back to the fact of the creature. It made a quick movement towards the scrawls. Sadul continued to stare blankly. It advanced, smoothed out the ground once more with its foot and began to scrabble again. Sadul wondered whether or not he should move on. He ought, he knew, to have kept together with the rest. Magon might be nasty about it. Well, he'd stay just long enough to see what the creature was doing this time.

It stood back and pointed again. Sadal was amazed. In the dirt was a drawing of a Takonian such as himself. The creature was pointing first to himself and then back to the drawing.

Sadul grew excited. He had made a discovery? What was this creature which could draw? He had never heard of such a thing. His first impulse was to run after the fest and tell them. But he hesitated and curiosity got the better of him.

Rather doubtfully, he opened the bag at his side and drew out his writing tablet and stylus. The creature excitedly thrust both paws through the bars for them and sat down, scratching experimentally with the wrong end of the stylus. Sadul corrected it, then leaned close to the bars, watching over its shoulder.

First the creature made a round mark in the middle of the tablet, then it pointed up. Sadul looked up at the ceiling, but quite failed to see anything remarkable there. The creature shook its head impatiently. About the mark it drew a circle with a small spot on the circumference—outside that another circle with a similar spot, then a third. Still Sadul could see no meaning.

Beside the spot on the second circle the creature drew a small sketch of a Takonian. Beside the spot on the third, a creature, itself. Sadul followed intently. It was trying very hard to convey something but for the life of him he could not see what it was. Again a paw pointed up at the light globe, then the forelimbs were held wide apart.

The light—an enormous light! Suddenly Sadul got it—the sun—the sun and the planets! He nearly choked with excitement. Reaching between the bars, he grabbed his tablet and ran off up the corridor in search of his party. The man in the cage watched him go and as Sadul's shouts diminished in the distance he smiled his first smile for a very long time.

Goin, the lecturer in phonetics, wandered into the study of his friend Dagul, the anthropologist in the University of Takon. Dagul, who was getting on in years as the grizzling of his silver fur testified, looked up with a frown of irritation at the interruption. It faded at the sight of Goin.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I think I'm a bit overworked. This Dur business gives such masses of material that I can't leave it alone...

"If you're too busy—?.

"No, no. Come along in. Glad to throw it off for a time.' They crossed to a low divan where they squatted, folding their four legs beneath them.

Dagul offered refreshment.

"Well, did you get this Earth creature's story?" he asked.

Goin produced a packet of thin tablets from a satchel.

"Yes, we got it—in the end. I've had all my assistants and brightest students working on it but it's not been easy even so. They seem to have been further advanced in physical science than we are. That made parts of it only roughly translatable but I think you'll be able to follow it. A pretty sort of villain this Gratz makes himself out to be—and he's not much ashamed of it...

"You can't be a good villain if you are ashamed...

"I suppose not but it's made me think. Earth seems to have been a rotten planet...

"Worse than Venus?" asked Dagul bitterly.

Goin hesitated. "Yes, I think so, according to his account— but probably that's only because it was further developed. We're going the same way—graft, vested interests, private traders without morals, politicians without conscience. I thought they only existed here, but they had them on Earth—the whole stinking circus. Maybe they had them on Mars too if we only knew...

"I wonder?" Dagul sat for some moments in contemplation. "You mean that Earth was just an exaggerated form of the mess we're in?.

"Exactly. Makes you wonder if life isn't a disease after all—a kind of corruption which attacks dying planets, growing more and more vicious in the higher forms. And as for intelligence —.

"Intelligence," said Dagul, "is a complete snare and delusion. I came to that conclusion long ago. Without it you are wiped out—with it you wipe out one another, eventually yourself...

Goin grinned. Dagul's hobbyhorses were muchridden steeds.

"The instinct of selfprotection—" he began.

"—is another delusion as far as the race is concerned,..."

Dagul finished for him. "Individuals may protect themselves but it is characteristic of an intelligent race to try continually by bigger and better methods to wipe itself out. Speaking dispassionately I should say that it's a very good thing, too. Of all the wasteful, destructive, pointless.....

Goin let him have his say. Experience told him that it was useless to attempt to stem the flood. At length came a pause and he thrust forward his packet of tablets.

"Here's the story. I'm afraid it will encourage your pessimism. The man, Grate, is a selfconfessed murderer for one thing...

"Why should he confess?.

"It's all there. Says he wants to warn us against Earth...

Dagul smiled slightly. "Then you've not told him?.

"No, not yet...

Dagul reached for the topmost tablet and began to read.

THE EARTHMAN'S STORY

I, Morgan Grate of the planet Earth, am writing this as a warning to the inhabitants of Venus. Have nothing to do with Earth if you can help it—but if you must, be careful. Above all I warn you to have no dealings with the two greatest companies of Earth.

If you do, you will come to hate Earth and her people as I do —you will come to think of her, as I do, as the plague spot of the universe. Sooner or later, emissaries will come—representatives of either Metallic Industries of International Chemicals will attempt to open negotiations. Do not listen to them.

However honeyed their words or smooth their phrases distrust them, for they will be liars and the servants of liars. If you do trust them you will live to regret it and your children will regret it and curse you. Read this and see how they treated me, Morgan Gratz.

My story is best started from the moment when I was shown into the Directors' Room in the huge building which houses the executive of Metallic Industries. The secretary closed the tall double doors behind me and announced my name.

"Gratz, sir...

Nine men seated about a glasstopped table turned their eyes upon me simultaneously but I kept my gaze on the chairman who topped the long table.

"Good morning, Mr. Drakin," I said.

"Morning, Gratz. You have not met our other directors, I believe...

I looked along the row of faces. Several I recognized from photographs in the illustrated papers. Others I was able to identify, for I had heard them described and knew that they would be present. There is no mystery about the directors of Metallic Industries Incorporated.

Among them are several of the world's richest men and to be mounted upon such pinnacles of wealth means continual exposure to the floodlights of publicity. Not only was I familiar with their appearances but in common with most I was fairly conversant with their histories. I made no comment, so the chairman continued.

"I have received your reports, Gratz, and I am pleased to say that they are model documents—clear and concise—a little too clear, I must own, for my peace of mind. In fact, I confess to apprehension and, in my opinion, the time has come for decisive measures. However, before I suggest the steps to be taken I would like you to repeat the gist of your reports for the benefit of my fellowdirectors...

I had come prepared for this request and was able to reply without hesitation.

"When it first became known to Mr. Drakin that International Chemicals proposed to build a ship for the navigation of space, he approached me and put forward certain propositions. I, as an employee of International Chemicals, being concerned in the work in question, was to keep him posted and to hand on as much information, technical and otherwise, as I could collect without arousing suspicion...

"Moreover, I was to find out the purpose for which International Chemicals intended to use her. I have carried out the first part of my orders to the chairman's satisfaction but it is only in the last week that I have been able to discover her destination...

I paused. There was a stir among the listeners. Several leaned forward with increased interest.

"Well," demanded a thin, predatoryfaced man on the chairman's right, "what is it?.

"The intention of the company," I said, "is to send their ship, which they call the Nuntia, to Venus...

They stared at me. Save for Drakin, to whom this was not news, they appeared dumbfounded. The cadaverouslooking man was the first to find his voice.

"Nonsense!" he cried. "Preposterous! Never heard of such a thing. What proof have you of this ridiculous statement?.

I looked at him coldly.

"I have no proof. A spy rarely has. You must take my word for it...

"Absurd. Fantastic nonsense. You stand there and seriously expect us to believe on your own, unsupported statement, that I.C. intends to send this machine to Venus? The moon would be unlikely enough. Either they have been fooling you or you must be raving mad. I never heard such rubbish. Venus, indeed!.

I regarded the man. I liked neither his face nor his manners.

"If Mr. Ball sees fit to challenge my report," I said. "This, I gentlemen, will scarcely surprise you, for you must know as well as I that Mr. Ball has been completely impervious to all new ideas for the past forty years...

The emaciated Mr. Ball goggled while several of the others hid smiles. It was rarely that his millions did not extract sycophancy but I was in a strong position.

"Insolence," he spluttered at last. "Damned insolence, Mr. Chairman. I demand that this man—.

"Mr. Ball," interrupted the other coldly, "you will please to control yourself. The fact that Gratz is here at all is a sign not only that I believe him but what I consider his news seriously to concern us all...

"Nonsense. If you are going to believe every fairy story that a paid spy —.

"Mr. Ball, I must ask you to leave the conduct of this matter to me. You knew, as we all did, that I.C. was building this ship and you knew that it was intended for spacetravel. Why should you disbelieve the report of its destination? I must insist that you control yourself...

Mr. Ball subsided, muttering indefinite threats. The chairman turned back to me. "And the purpose of this expedition?.

I was only able to suggest that it was to establish claims over territories as sources of supplies. He nodded and turned to address the rest.

"You see, gentlemen, what this will mean? It is scarcely necessary to remind you that I.C. are our greatest rivals, our only considerable rivals. The overlapping of interests is inevitable. Metals and chemicals obviously cannot be expected to keep apart. They are interdependent. It cannot be anything but a fight for survival between the two companies...

"At present we are evenly balanced in the matter of raw materials—and probably shall be for years to come. But—and this is the important point—if their ship makes this trip successfully what will be the results?.

"First, of course, they will annex the richest territories on the planet with their raw materials, and later import these materials to Earth. Mind you, this will not take place at once—but make no mistake, it will come, sooner or later, as inevitably as tomorrow...

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