SEARCHPOINT by Francis G Rayer

SEARCHPOINT

Francis G. Rayer makes a welcome return herewith after a long absence with another angled viewpoint on the contact of alien and human. Ambassadors are not normally warlike — but undoubtedly they are always extremely cautious!

As Man expands, reaching other planets, other systems, and other galaxies, he must expect to encounter alien life forms of great diversity. Some may be extremely strange or extra-ordinary in type — Karnoff’s Probability And Mankind.

“ We’ll go down closer,” Joe Braby said, and pressed the truck starter button.

The descent was uneven. The truck bounced on its springs, dust drifting from under its wheels. A light wind was coming in from the direction of the estuary, and beyond glinted like tranquil silver one of Tagus III’s few seas. Away to the right, the estuary made a broad curve, narrowing sharply as it swept inland. Far to his left, a brown smudge, hung the dust clouds of the sandy wastes which ran from sea to hills, flanking the settlement to the west.

As Joe drove, his attention was focussed upon the narrow spire of gleaming blue which rested upon the flats below the hills. It should not have been there — did not, indeed, belong to the Southwater colony, or to Earth, or to any other human colony out here near this dim star of Ursa Minor. Its sudden appearance that morning had already percussed through the whole settlement.

Seen nearer, it was obviously a spaceship. But no ship was scheduled for arrival, and the strange hieroglyphics on her side resembled no human identification marking. Furthermore, an exit port stood open, and a metal ladder extended from it to the ground.

Joe stopped the truck fifty paces from the ship. A movement caught his eye to his right — a man, with something in his hand that glinted.
“ You’ve already had the spot surrounded,” Joe said, his gaze flickering over the face of the man in the seat besides him. “ Was that in time ?”

Captain Halsteed grunted. He was heavy-shouldered, broad as a bull, so that the seat springs creaked as he rose.

“ It could have been quick enough. When young Allender spotted the ship it was standing exactly as it does now, open, with the ladder down. Allender walked up to it, thinking it was perhaps a patrol. He called, got no answer, and only noticed those markings when he moved away.” Halsteed put a hand on the open truck’s windshield, standing to get a clear view. “ Whoever came in the ship might already have left. Alternatively, they could have been frightened by Allender and still be concealed inside.”

Joe drew in his round cheeks. He seldom saw eye to eye with Halsteed, whom he personally regarded as something of a tyrant, but admitted that Halsteed’s action had been reasonable enough.
“ You’ve got the whole area surrounded ?” he asked.

“ So far as matters. The estuary’s a mile wide at its mouth, and I’ve got a helicopter watching it and the sea.” Halsteed jerked a finger at the ship. “ Whoever came in her won’t get away that easily !”

Joe rose his brows, hesitated, but was silent. It was, he agreed, not always easy for a civilian to see things as a military man saw them. Halsteed had automatically assumed the ship might have brought an enemy.



Dismissing that line of thought, Joe started the truck and drove in a slow circle round the ship. It was either empty or occupied by unseen observers. The touch-down seemed to have been perfect, and no exterior defect hinted at a forced landing.

Halsteed was growing visibly impatient. He sat hunched in his seat, head craned round to see in front of Joe. Once he muttered something, as if irritated by the slow circling of the ship.

“ Someone’s looked for footmarks or the like ?” Joe asked as he came diametrically opposite the direction from which they had approached.

“ Of course.” Halsteed’s tone suggested the point was too obvious to consider further. “ There are a few indefinite marks near the bottom of the ladder. They confirm things neither way. Farther away, the stones and grass would leave no traces. It’s not far to the road from the estuary, as you know.”

Joe nodded. The crushed stone roadway from the waterside up to the huddle of buildings which was the Southwater colony would reveal nothing.

“ This settlement is important,” Halsteed went on, tones clipped. “ There’s not another worth mentioning within a couple of parsecs of here.” He frowned, his heavy face morose. “ I know you look upon me as a bit of a trouble finder, Braby. But when I see anything like that ship back there I always wonder if it’s the thin end of the wedge.”

Joe glanced questioningly from the rising slope ahead. “ Thin end of the wedge ?”

“ Yes. In every ancient victory there was a first spear, in every war, a first bomb. We’ve crept on, expanding. But one day someone — something — may decide it’s time to start rolling back this creeping tide of spreading humanity.”

He was silent, his heavy chin almost bumping his chest as the truck bounced on. Joe realised for the first time that much of Halsteed’s abruptness and intolerance sprang from awareness of his responsibility. In Halsteed’s mind, Southwater represented an insecure encampment encircled by hitherto silent, but probably antagonistic forces. As such, it was a salient to be held by man for man . . .



In the fifteen remaining daylight hours of the planet’s slow rotation no further information reached Joe. The usual heavy evening mists were beginning to rise from the estuary when his office phone buzzed. He took it up.

“ This is Eddie, Joe.” The voice was annoyed. “Halsteed has frozen down on our transport.”
Joe’s face twitched. Mild by nature, he regarded Halsteed rather as an ever-present irritant.

“ Why ?” There was a snap in his voice.
“ He says there are too many hiding places among our equipment.”

There was truth in that, Joe thought. Eddie Cummins was overseeing trial mineral borings at the west end of the hills, and trucks ran from Southwater to the boring site several times a day.

“ I’ll check with Halsteed,” he said.
It was five minutes before he gained contact. Halsteed’s voice had a new, rough edge as he replied. Joe came to the point quickly.
“ We need those minerals, Captain. It’s my job to see we have them. We can’t work effectively when you’ve stopped our trucks.”

“ Sorry, Braby.” The tone carried no apology. “ With luck it won’t be for long — only until we’ve caught whatever came in that ship down on the flats — ”
“ And without luck ?” Joe snapped.

“ Just as long as I need to make it. I’m confident that whatever was inside that ship is still within my cordon. I can’t have trucks running in and out of the sealed area. Two came in this afternoon, but I’ve stopped them going out. That’s an order, and applies to everyone.”

The line went dead. Joe said ‘ damn ’ quietly, aware that that Halsteed’s tone had made him hot around the collar. Yet, as usual, Halsteed was right. Joe shrugged, taking up the first phone.

“ The Captain’s within his rights, Eddie,” he said. “ Carry on as best you can — ”
“ And get weeks behind ! We need every ounce of useful metal.”
“ We do,” Joe agreed. “ But we also need to know what came in that ship. When priorities clash, the military has it, as Halsteed would say.”



He left Eddie Cummins muttering against brasshats who stopped essential work, and phoned a message saying he would like to see the man who first noticed the ship. Waiting, he took a couple of turns round his desk, frowned at the mists rising from the estuary, and dialled another number. A young woman’s voice answered.

“ Biology section here.”
“ This is Joe Braby. You’ve heard of the ship, Susan ?”

“ Who hasn’t ?” Susan Field sounded friendly, interested. “ What was in it ?”

“ That’s what we don’t know, yet. Halsteed has clapped his men round the area, and swears he’ll catch whatever’s in there. That’s a reasonable military outlook on it.” Joe sighed. Halsteed always succeeded in being right. “ I’ve looked at the ship from a distance, but not been inside. Sooner or later someone must go in and see if there’s anything inside. If there is, your presence could help. If the ship’s empty, you might help deduce something about its occupant.”

“ Perhaps.” She was clearly not making promises. “ You want me to come ?”
“ Tomorrow. Halsteed would never allow it during darkness. He’s probably got searchlights trained on that port, but isn’t the man to take chances.”

“ Fair enough.” She paused. “ I heard there was a ladder — ”
“ From the port to the ground.”
“ Then presumably we’re looking for something which would use a ladder.”

She left him at that, and Joe smiled. A being that would use a ladder : thus presumably with prehensile members. Of moderate size, judging by the ladder’s dimensions. Already he could picture something descending from the port, swinging round by round to the flat below.

A knock came on the door. He opened it himself, standing aside as a young man with intense ginger hair came in. Joe closed the door.

“ Please sit down.”
“ Thanks, sir.”

Returning to his desk, Joe studied him. Young Allender was an honest-faced, pleasant looking chap. Not the sort to observe very much, perhaps.

“ You saw the ship first ?” Joe asked.
“ Yes, sir.” Allender looked as if he wished he had more to tell. “ I wondered what she was doing there.”
“ You didn’t hear her land ?”
“ No.”
“ The port was open, and the ladder down, when you first saw her ?”
“ Must have been, sir. I didn’t notice the open port until I got closer, of course. Then I shouted, but nobody came.”

“ There was no sound — no movement inside or outside the ship.”
Allender’s expression showed he was thinking hard. “ No, sir.”
“ Nothing went back up the ladder as you were approaching?”
“ No, sir — I’d have noticed.”

After a few more questions Joe decided that young Allender had no more to tell. Until the morrow brought actual investigation of the ship it must remain a waiting game.



Alone, Joe began to work out a plan which would allow Eddie to make progress, while temporarily avoiding the truck service from the colony. Cummins himself came in after a perfunctory knock, an hour later. Dust and earth still marked his clothes and scattered from his old peaked cap as he dropped it on the desk, sitting beside it.

Joe smiled bleakly. “ Still irate, Eddie ?”

“ I am ! And tomorrow will be worse.” Cummins jabbed a dirty finger on the notes Joe had prepared. “ You’ll be clever to prepare a work schedule that doesn’t need fuel, Joe !” “ As bad as that ?”

“ We were going to truck more out to the borings today.” Cummins got off the desk. Dust disturbed by his action slowly settled. His stained face was morose, his voice frustrated.

“ How does Halsteed think we can get on with our job with things like this,” he complained. “ We have a dateline. Does he think we’d be giving free lifts past his cordon to anything trying to escape ? We’re not that soft. I doubt if a mouse could hide on one of our fuel trucks — ”

The phone buzzer halted him. It was Halsteed, more imperious of tone than usual, Joe thought as he answered.
“ It’s about your trucks, Braby,” Halsteed said.

Joe bristled. “ I was going to ask you to let some through. You can guard them while taking on fuel, and while pumping it into our tanks at the borings.”

“ Impossible !” Halsteed seemed not to be listening. “There was something in that ship, and at the present it is within my cordon ! This is to let you know that in no circumstance is any vehicle to pass my men — ”

Joe felt annoyed at both tone and words. “ You might credit us with some sense !”
Halsteed snorted audibly. “ Sense may not be enough — yet. No trucks. That’s an order.”
“ Yet a bit high-handed, in my opinion !” Joe snapped.

“ That remains to be seen, Braby. During the last hour someone — or something — penetrated into my offices and searched through all our private files. I was about to tell you, but you kept interrupting.”

The line went dead, silence following the near triumph the words carried. Joe felt red. As usual, Halsteed was right, but that did not make it more pleasant. He sought for words, but Eddie Cummins laughed briefly and expressively.

“Don’t tell me, Joe. His voice was loud enough to hear it all. You’re sat on — officially. He’s got our visitor in his cordon, and come flood and famine, nothing will pass through.”

Joe got up jerkily. “ Don’t rub it in, Eddie. I'm going to do one thing at least which Halsteed didn’t suggest — see for myself !”



A light off-sea breeze brought mist from the estuary. The colony buildings were dark shapes with hazy, illuminated windows. Occasional naked bulbs at corners gave patches of light and shadow. Joe walked quickly, mind active on this new development. It backed up the apparent wisdom of Halsteed’s action. So long as their visitor was confined to this area, a reasonable chance of capturing him existed.

The buildings that formed the headquarters of Halsteed’s command were at no great distance from the estuary. Joe knew that he must admit Halsteed’s ability. This position of trust on Tagus III had been won by the achievement of results, and Halsteed would bring the whole project to a halt, rather than risk a mistake.

The mist was thicker near the military headquarters buildings, coming in low over the ground. The planet’s long, warm days contributed to it, Joe thought as he knocked.

Inside, he asked the aide for Halsteed, waited, and was asked to follow down the corridor. At its end, light streamed from an open door. Halsteed stood there, half blocking it. Beyond him was a litter of papers covering a trestle table and the floor, and every drawer in several filing cabinets was out, some lying inverted on the documents, charts and docketed communications.

“ I didn’t appreciate it was this bad, Captain,” Joe said.
Halsteed started as if stung, turning. He was clearly searching for words, suppressing a minor explosion.

“ It’s worse than you think,” he said, “ much worse. When I previously saw this room, it was in order. I locked it myself, and the window has steel shutters, as you see. It was a usual safety precaution — a regulation.”



During the coming days Joe often remembered Halsteed’s tone, and was not without sympathy. In normal circumstances, an official directive could have terminated Halsteed’s command at that moment. Meanwhile, the mineral borings remained idle, without fuel. The colony began to take on something of the appearance of an abandoned project. Men talked idly, or stood at vantage points watching for something no one saw. Only after three days would Halsteed let an investigation party approach the ship.

Joe went with it, with Susan Field silent and rather tight-lipped besides him. They ascended the ladder with infinite caution. Investigation inside the ship occupied many hours. It was apparently empty, and of unknown origin. Control was by an elaborate series of push buttons, and gave no clue to the physique or form of the owner. Near the exit port was a mechanism with hooked treads so spaced that they would engage with the ladder rounds. Joe noted Susan’s significant glance.

“ So much for my first guess,” she said. “ The ladder is only a kind of runway. If so, we’ve still no clue.”
Nothing was disturbed, but Joe decided that the propulsion and other mechanisms in the ship would probably become intelligible after detailed examination.

When they left, he knew there were significant omissions. If the ship carried food, he had not seen it. A store of concentrates, water, a resting place for a sleeping being — all were absent.



“ I’m not convinced that Captain Halsteed’s approach is the right one,” Susan Field said. “ It’s too — military.”

The long room contained many indications of her work : tabulated information on the flora and fauna of the planet, specimens, a few small crates waiting shipment to Earth. Given data, she could soon produce results, Joe thought. But without data, it was only guessing. He half sat on one of the tables, his hands on its edge.

“ If a shooting party met me I’d perhaps hide,” he admitted. “ But at least his cordon has narrowed the search. The flats out where the ship rests offer no cover. The estuary and sea are under patrol observation night and day. These few buildings, the half mile of seashore, and the tree clumps between the estuary and the end of the hills are the only hiding places inside Halsteed’s cordon.”

He doubted if even the planet’s equivalent to a rabbit could have escaped the area. Halsteed was doing the job thoroughly, as always, with mobile patrols, hidden watchers at strategic points, and fixed, mobile and air-borne searchlights.

Susan stood near one of the long windows. The side lighting put flecks of gold in her bright yellow hair, in close curls. Her oval face suggested gentle concern, but Joe knew that a keen, able brain backed up the penetrating glances which had explored the ship. Looks alone would gain no one a place this far from Earth. She smiled fleetingly.

“ You’re irritated because your work has been stopped.”
He did not deny it. “You’ve thought out another approach?”

“ Nothing definite. I’d like to try friendliness. Halsteed seems to act on the dictum that if you see anything you don’t like, you should shoot it. He needs reminding we’re a long way from Earth. The farther we get, the nearer that brings us to other important races, out here. It’s not the first alien ship we’ve encountered, and when I see one, I always wonder what’s behind it, a tiny pinpoint of civilisation, or a hundred great inhabited planets. My training taught me to respect life. Halsteed’s taught him to make everything an enemy until it’s proved a friend. A lot of danger can be caused that way.”

The staccato echoes of a repeating rifle shook the window. A second volley sounded, and shouting voices. Joe ran for the door, flung it open, thudded down the corridor, and burst into the space between the biology huts and next block. A man stood at the corner, his rifle half at the ready, a foolish expression on his face.

“ I’m sure something was trying to get into the truck — ” he was saying.
Joe ran to him. “ What was getting in ?”
“ I — I don’t know, sir. I just spotted it from the corner of my eye, and let fire. That’s instructions.”

He paused, inarticulate, uncomfortable as a sentry to be accused of a false alarm. A line of holes in the side panel of the nearby truck testified to his aim. The truck was empty.

Joe was present when the man was questioned by Halsteed, and learned nothing more. Unless it had been a trick of vision, or a moving shadow from a plane, there was no explanation. Exasperated, Halsteed finally told the man to go.

“ You think he really saw something ?” Joe asked.
“ I believe he did.”
“ Yet we were there immediately, and saw nothing.”

“ That’s not conclusive !” The other looked censorious, as if no civilian could be trusted to observe correctly. “ At least it helps to prove that my ring of guards is effective ! My plan now is to contract that ring, clearing the buildings of Southwater first.”

Joe considered, his lips drawn in. Halsteed’s plan was sound— a forcing move, yet one based as usual upon the idea that the visitor was a spy to be trapped.

“ You may gain your point like that,” Joe agreed quietly. “ But is it wise ?”
“ Wise ?” Incredulity was in the word.

“ Yes. The ship down on the flats seems undamaged. Therefore it was not an emergency landing. If not an emergency, it had been planned. If planned, some aim was in view. What aim ?”

“ To spy on us !” Halsteed snapped.

“ Perhaps not quite. Miss Field suggests it may be rather an investigation to see what kind of beings we are. A probe, a search into our ways and methods. If so, what kind of impression will your shoot on sight policy give ?”

Halsteed snorted so that his very cheeks vibrated, “Rubbish ! Fantastic ! I don’t need a girl to teach me my job !”

“ She’s not !” Joe got up, irritated. He knew that if he stayed he would quarrel openly with Halsteed. “I’ll grant spies exist. But so do emissaries sent on peaceful investigation — ”

“ Which I suppose includes rifling my files ?” Halstead demanded sarcastically.

“ No. That could have arisen because you forced our visitor underground.” Joe paused at the door. “ The more I think of it, the more I’m inclined to Miss Field’s opinion. Spies don’t leave ships standing for everyone to see — they arrive secretly.”

He left, wondering why the captain always succeeded so ably in rubbing him up the wrong way. It was, Joe thought, inevitable. Water and oil did not mix, normally. Halsteed’s method was attack, keep the initiative, don’t let the other man talk, but shout him down.

A brief half hour saw the plan going into action. One by one buildings were searched with fanatical attention to detail, under Halsteed’s personal supervision. One by one the buildings were placed outside the cordon. Joe felt uneasy. Eddie Cummins, back on foot from his silent borings, voiced Joe’s inner fear.

“ I don’t like this, Joe,” he said, watching a score of men pour from a cleared building. “ I’d like to think our visitor had good motives, until it were proved otherwise. Halsteed makes us look a bunch of savages ! Who’d be to blame if our visitor acted as if we are exactly that ?”

By evening the buildings were cleared. Part of a combined operation, the men along the flats west of the ship had also advanced, squeezing inwards until the contained area was reduced to half. The shortened perimeter was to Halsteed’s favour, and his men could keep up a shouted conversation. Riding behind them over the flats, Joe heard much of the banter that passed from man to man. They were becoming jocular, beaters now eager to flush hidden game. Far ahead the ship remained empty, a lonely blue spire.

The men from Southwater joined the right flank of those coming in over the flats, and the cordon stretched in a broad semi-circle from the sea to the estuary. There they halted. Apparently the final advance was to be delayed until dawn. An hour of daylight remained, and Halsteed began to consolidate the line by bringing up trucks carrying searchlights.

Joe was returning towards Southwater when he saw Susan Field and Eddie Cummins walking quickly near the stone roadway, and apparently looking for him, from their welcome.

“ I was afraid we’d not find you,” Eddie said.
“ Why ? What’s happening.”

Eddie waited until a patrol had gone by. “ Suppose we three have a look round ourselves ? It was Miss Field’s idea.”
“ Down there ?” Joe indicated the flats, and distant ship.

“ Yes !” Susan’s voice was quick with excitement. “ We’ll go as friends, unarmed. Even the Captain won’t object to us looking round inside his cordon.”

Joe’s gaze travelled over the flats. Perhaps three-quarters of a square mile remained unsearched, not counting the open ground. The cordon extended to their left, the sea was straight ahead. To their right, the estuary glinted in evening light. The usual evening mist was beginning to appear, lying hazily near the ground, forming more rapidly near the few clumps of trees, and over the stream that flowed from the hills to join the main waters of the estuary. With morning, the fateful compressive squeeze of Halsteed’s men would commence.

“ I’d like to go,” Joe said quietly.



The contained area lay still and isolated. They separated, and Joe walked down towards the ship. Halsteed’s searchlights would be ready to play upon it, but now it stood unilluminated, port open, ladder down.

He climbed the ladder and stood in the port, waiting. He could see Eddie walking rapidly towards the shore. Here, rocks fell quickly to the sand, and hiding places were few.

The evening breeze had dropped, and the ship was completely silent, withdrawn from the planet and its human activity. Joe did not go further inside. If the alien was there, his presence was known.

Minutes drifted by, and Eddie went from view. Joe listened, watching the flats. Some sixth sense told him that the ship was empty. He waited a little longer, then descended, and turned off towards the estuary.

It was wide, fairly rapid, impassable without a boat or raft. Joe was certain that the alien would not cross, thereby placing the barrier between himself and his waiting ship. At the water’s edge, Joe turned right, walking slowly towards the trees that edged the hill stream. .

He stopped often, listening. Once he glimpsed Eddie on a high rise by the sea. Susan was higher up the estuary bank, working slowly down from the cordon there.

Joe halted under trees near the stream, and stared out over the misty estuary. Up near the buildings someone was testing a searchlight, sweeping the daylight-stunted beam up and round. The stream was shallow, narrow enough to leap, and smooth and silent in its flow. Joe’s eyes had followed its course several times before he realised that something unusual had in fact unconsciously captured his attention. A portion of the narrow waters seemed to be flowing slowly from the estuary towards the hills, strangely reversed. His eyes narrowed, but he did not move. The motion was certainly no trick of light. The surface waters were moving steadily towards the estuary, but at lower levels was a swirling, contrary motion.

A slight turbulence came into view, drawing level. Joe knew, now, that he was witnessing the slow ascent of the stream by something as transparent as water itself, that slid with a flowing motion over the pebbles and clay.

He heard a light step at his side, and Susan’s fingers closed on his arm.
“ What is it ?” she breathed.

He pointed. She followed his gaze, and he heard a quick hiss of breath between her lips. Joe wondered what he should do. Duty would require that he call Halsteed, or give an alarm. Something much deeper prompted he keep silent. He had never felt antagonism towards the being from the ship, or wished to be part of Halsteed’s kill or capture project.

“ Let it go,” Susan whispered.

Joe straightened, and realised that a man was coming down near the estuary bank — Halsteed, clearly curious about their intent observation of the stream.

“ Make excuses — even a false alarm the other way !” Joe whispered.

He turned quickly, following the stream towards the estuary. Halsteed’s course deviated, homing on him. Twenty paces from where he had seen the alien, Joe halted', waiting. Halsteed stopped opposite him.

“ You’ve seen something, Braby ?” he demanded.
Joe looked surprised. “ Only seeking for a place to cross.”
The other’s glance travelled up-stream. “ That shouldn’t be hard to find ! And was Miss Field wanting to cross too?”

“ No. She was telling me she’d seen signs of a camp fire way across the flats, but I told her I expect it was one of your men — ”
“ My men haven’t made fires !” Halsteed put in quickly.

“ Then perhaps you’d better get her to show you,” Joe said quietly. “ I’ll come with you. We may have some difficulty finding the place.” He pointed to a narrow spot. “ Coming over here ?”

He set his back to the stream, momentarily closed his mind to the mystery that crept along its bed, and began to stride off towards a spot remote from the ship. He heard Halsteed jump, grunt, and come up behind him.

“ We’d better hurry,” Joe said. “ There were only a few burnt twigs left, I believe. We may not find them before dark—”



The alien extended a pseudopod up the stream bank, and lay momentarily still, resting. Into the circle of its awareness filtered a thousand impressions. Most it dismissed : the myriad, tiny feelings of humble things that moved in the trees and earth, and in the stream and estuary. Beyond them, standing out from the background sensation they furnished, were the stronger feelings of planning, willing beings.

Lifting more of itself, the alien lay in the mist. Only the flattened grass showed its presence. It extended itself, growing more tenuous and lower, blending with the mist. Only at one spot in its body did a vivid green dot oscillate, small as a firefly, vividly alive.

It had been very near to failure, the alien thought. The arrival of the biped animals in this part of the heavens had certainly merited investigation. They were clever, had considerable technological achievement. Yet the immediate reaction had been one of fear and hate. Upon no previous occasion had the alien felt so in personal danger.

The mission had been difficult. To enter the biped’s buildings was easy. It had flowed in under the door, almost invisible. The multitude of written and printed papers within the recall of its photographic mind would probably furnish information, the alien thought. But it was not upon them that its report would be based. No task force need be detailed to sweep in on the planet, clearing it of the invader.

Rested, the alien flowed on among the trees. Its bodily strength was slight, and much exhausted from the movement and physical activity which had been required. The conscious circles of hate, fear and anger which came from most of the bipeds were becoming concentrated a long way across the flats, beyond the ship. The alien was glad, and flowed from the trees into the open, a moving dimness in the mist.

Once it had to pause, as four men came near, walking quickly, weapons ready. Their minds were four naked flames, eager to destroy because they were afraid. When they were gone, the alien flowed on towards the ship.

When it reached the vessel it had to rest, then it extended a high pseudopod, touching one side of the metal ladder. Inside the ship a mechanism awoke. The truck-like contrivance issued from the port, and descended the ladder, hook-shaped members engaging with the rounds. Eager now, the alien placed the end of its pseudopod in the truck. Slowly the hazy mass upon the ground decreased in volume, while that inside the truck grew. The vivid green dot shone like a precious stone as it ascended. Then the truck awoke again, creeping with rhythmical clicks towards the port.

Somewhere across the flats a great splash of fear abruptly arose, flashing into being, finding action, being taken up and echoed by other minds. The alien lay still, feeling it, numbering the painfully slow clicks as each pair of hooks engaged, and were released.



Joe was still searching for charred sticks which he knew he would not find when the shout brought him up with a start. A young soldier was yelling something, almost hysterical, pointing at the ship.

An object was ascending the ladder slowly. Distance and evening concealed its form, but Joe could guess. Halsteed barked orders and the crackle of shoulder arms reverberated over the flats. Helpless, Joe watched the slow ascent. From another direction men were running towards the ship, some halting to fire, then running again. The ascending object paused, tilted forward, and bobbed in through the open port. The ladder began to creep upwards, almost as if in slow motion.

Halsteed was calling for a truck, and urging concentrated fire on the port. The end of the ladder vanished. The port closed, invisibly flush. Seconds passed, a minute, two, then coloured fire appeared under the ship’s stern. She rose smoothly, gaining velocity, and it was a long time before the dwindling glow of her drive was lost amid the stars.



Already many hundred of thousands of miles away from the planet, the alien rested a pseudopod upon a sprung button, vibrating it to modulate transmitting equipment beamed on his headquarters half a light year distant. The colony can be allowed to remain. Some of the bipeds are sympathetic, kind. In accordance with our policy, races showing this characteristic in however retarded a form, are to be allowed to remain. In some decades it will probably be worth establishing a trading relationship. A full report will be available when I return.

The pseudopod ceased to vibrate. The vivid green dot began to slow its ceaseless dance, and came to rest, vivid as a pinned jewel. The alien slept.

Francis G. Rayer.

This work is Copyright. All rights are reserved. F G Rayer's next of kin: W Rayer and Q Rayer. May not be reprinted, republished, or duplicated elsewhere (including mirroring on the Internet) without consent.