Chapter 16
The knowledge that these Guddus of Algon were telepathic rocked GeorgeHanlon back on his heels. That was a thing he had never even imagined.They were such a simple, almost childlike race, that such an ability wasfarthest from his thoughts.
"If you can talk with your minds?" he asked Geck in wonder, "why do youbother to speak with the voice to each other?"
"Because mind-talk more tiring to we," came the simple explanation. "Ittake much of we's forces. Us grow weak after much of them."
"That makes me hesitate to ask you to do any of it, then," the young SSman said. "I was hoping you could find out for me how many mines areoperated on the planet, and if all of them are using you Guddus asslaves."
"Oh, yes, An-yon, me know that already," Geck's peculiar little face,which had become so friendly to Hanlon through long association, brokeout into a smile that was quickly shadowed by sorrow at thought of theplight of his people. "There is nine mines. Human masters make Gudduwork in all of they."
"Nine, eh?" Hanlon thought swiftly for a moment. "Do they all producethe same ores as this one?"
"Will have to find that for you, An-yon. You wait short space of time."
The Greenie grew silent and strained with concentration. Hanlon probedinto the native's mind, wondering if he could follow it. And haltinglyat first, but with growing ability as he learned the pattern, he foundhe could ride along on that telepathic beam.
The thoughts were far too swift for him to catch more than an occasionalconcept, but he was thrilled to realize he was actually telepathing,even though at second-hand.
One after another mind he could feel joining in that conference. Therewas much hostility and great fear when Geck first tried to explain aboutthe human who was their friend, and had learned to talk with them. TheGuddus on the other end of that "line" were tremendously skeptical,afraid, and very, very suspicious of the motives of any human being.
But Geck was eloquent and persuasive. Before long their fears began tolessen, and later they seemed to accept his assurance that "An-yon" was,indeed, both friendly and anxious to help them escape their slavery.
"The human An-yon is but one of the most of humans who are kind and justand ethical," he was surprised to hear Geck telepathing when he got sohe could understand. "It is the few, such as those others who are here,who are not. These are bad men who come here just to get things for ownselfish ends, and the good men, who are most, will stop them as soon asthey can. An-yon come here just for that, to find out what those bad mendo, and to stop them."
That speech was another shock to Hanlon--he had never told Geck allthat.
The distant natives finally bowed to Geck's importunings, and gave himthe specific information for which he was asking because the friendlyhuman wanted to know it.
There were two other mines that produced the same uraninite ore as theone at which Hanlon was stationed. There were three iron mines, andHanlon was not too surprised to learn that at each of these minessmelters had been erected. He learned that humans were used mostly inthe mills, the natives being used only for outside labor because theycould not stand the heat.
"We burn quickly," was the sad, horrified thought.
There were three other mines, but the natives did not know the Englishor Greek names for the metals found there. Even after considerablequestioning by the roundabout "Hanlon to Geck to the Guddus back to Geckback to Hanlon" method, he still couldn't get that specific information.
"If it isn't tiring you too much, Geck, please ask them if there is anybuilding going on besides the smelters at the iron mines?" Hanlonrequested.
Soon other minds about the planet were coming in, and the story began tounfold--there were several factories making many machines. But none ofthe natives had the least idea what kind, or for what purpose they werebeing made.
"Think they are going to be put in great metal huts humans are making,"one thought ran, and Hanlon quickly grabbed onto that.
"What sort of metal huts?"
"Things that look like huge eggs."
"Space ships, you mean?"
Another thought broke in. "Yes, they like ships human come in, but muchgreater."
Hanlon fumed. Oh, if only he could see ... but wait, maybe he could getthe information he needed. "Ask if anyone is looking at one of those'eggs' right now," he commanded Geck through the transformer.
"Yes, An-yon, many Guddu right at edge of great place of making. Brotherof me, Nock, him there."
"Ask him, please, to describe what he sees. Maybe that will give me agood picture of what it is."
"Will be glad to try, but not knowing your language and having nocompare your measurement to ours, am not sure can do what you wish," hefelt Nock say.
This, too, surprised Hanlon. That native certainly had a real mind, tograsp that difficulty so well, and to realize the limitations oftelepathic communications with one alien to his race.
"Please picture it in your mind as you see it, and use some commonobjects of the planet for comparison of their sizes," Hanlon urgedthrough Geck's mind. "That way I think we can get along."
Almost instantly a picture of a gigantic egg formed in his mind, butwith enough variations from an actual egg so that Hanlon realized itwas, indeed, a space ship the native was viewing. Soon Hanlon saw agreat tree pictured beside the ship, and at the base of the tree anative was standing.
Quickly Hanlon estimated. The adult natives he had seen were almost allabout six feet tall. As nearly as he could judge that tree was a goodfifteen times the height of the Guddu, and the ship was the same heightas the tree, and nearly three times as long.
Wow! What a ship! But it must be wrong. Even the largest Corps' warshipswere nowhere near that huge. Nor were even any of the biggest freightershe had ever seen. He must be getting his measurements wrong.
He called Geck, using the transformer. "Are you seeing what I am inNock's mind?"
"Yes, An-yon, and you is figure right. Is that big."
Hanlon slowly shook his head in amazement. If that was meant for awarship, it certainly spelled trouble for someone. He thought seriouslyfor several moments, then telepathed Nock. "Is there more than one shipbeing built?"
"Oh, yes, there are many many." The picture built up of a whole row ofships, and Hanlon counted swiftly.
_Eighteen!_
For what purpose was such a fleet being built? Men would not defy theI-S C and the Federated Planets this way merely for business reasons, hefelt sure. There certainly was a plot being hatched--and what a plot!
He felt Geck's hand on his arm, and heard his voice. "Are two moreplaces where humans build many ship, An-yon. While you think me talkmany minds. One place are fourteen more great ones. At other are manymany many small ones five to ten Guddu long."
Shock on shock! Someone was building a tremendous fleet here! He mustget that news to Corps headquarters as quickly as possible. If thoseships were once finished, they would be able to dominate the system. Forthe Corps had only a nominal fleet. They had never needed a large one.
To the best of his knowledge the Corps had only thirty-one first-linebattleships, much smaller than these. The Fleet also had fifty heavycruisers, a hundred and fifty light cruisers, and a thousand scoutsrunning from one-man up to twelve-man size.
"Please find out if any of those ships they are building have ever leftthe ground."
"Some little ones only," Geck reported after awhile. "Some few disappearinto sky then come back after time, then do same again."
Trial trips, or training trips for the crews, Hanlon deduced.
Well, he had some data now, at least. Enough so that once he got thatnews to Headquarters they would attack this place in force great enoughto stop this work ... IF ... he could get word to them soon enough.
"Let's see now," he figured quickly. "I've been here almost twelveweeks. That means another six or seven until I'm supposed to be eligibleto get back to Simonides. Hmmm. Wish I knew how near finished those bigbattle-wagons are."
More
moments of intense thought. "I don't dare take the chance of tryingto sneak off to the yards," he reasoned logically. "I've got to doeverything I can to make sure I get my trip back when my eighteen weeksare up. If I got caught off bounds that would ruin everything--I'dreally be in a mess."
Also, even if he could get to the shipyards, the moment he was spottedtrying to get inside any of those ships he would undoubtedly be killedby guards who would certainly shoot first and ask questions later--ifany.
Nor were there any longer any native birds or animals left on Algon hecould use--he had learned that the men had killed them off soon afterthey arrived.
"No, I'll just have to keep on trying, and get what dope I can withoutexposing myself. With a month and a half I should be able to get a lotmore, and with what I already know, the Corps top brass will take steps,but fast!"
Suddenly a new idea sprang into his mind. Where was "here?" In hisexcitement and planning he had entirely forgotten to finish figuring outthat point.
That evening after dinner he stayed outside, ostensibly walking aboutaimlessly, in reality looking at and studying the stars when he was sureno one was watching him.
He couldn't spot any of the more familiar constellations such as the BigDipper, Bear, or the Southern Cross. He knew he was far to one side ofthe galaxy from Terra--that while from there one could see the "front"of those configurations, now he would be getting a "sidewise" view. Buthe could identify quite a few of the bigger suns and distant nebulae.
He picked out several blue-white and red giants he was sure he knew.That was Andromeda off there; that one was undoubtedly Orion--no othercontained so many 4.0 to 5.2 stars, beside the gigantic Rigel,Betelgeuse and Bellatrix.
Good, he could fix all that in his mind well enough to draw it when hegot back, and the Corps planetographers certainly would pin-point thissystem from those directions. Distance--let's see? He strained toremember the time it had taken that freighter to come here, andestimated that, with its slower speed, this world was somewhere betweenten and fifteen lights. He would time it more carefully, going back, andestimate the ship's speed as closely as possible.
Young George Hanlon was maturing swiftly under the stress of thetremendous task he was attempting. He was learning that he must thinkand plan well ahead of time. He realized he could not afford to make anyserious mistakes, lest not only his task remain uncompleted, but hislife be forfeit as well.
He knew now that it was absolutely imperative that he get back toSimonides at the earliest possible moment, and that the way to be sureof this was to so impress Philander that he would feel duty-bound togive Hanlon his vacation at end of the minimum time.
So Hanlon devoted many hours of serious thought to this problem, andfinally figured out several courses of action. The next day, as soon ashis shift was over, Hanlon walked across the compound and knocked on thedoor of the headquarters office. When bade to enter he did so, hat inhand.
"Have you got a half hour or so to talk, Mr. Philander, sir?" he asked."I've got a couple of ideas I'd like to gab with you about, that I thinkmight speed up production even more."
The man looked up in surprise, and his eyes bored deeply, suspiciouslyinto Hanlon's. "You think you can tell me how to run my job?" he rasped.
"Oh, no, sir. I didn't mean about the engineering or supervision. It'sabout handling the natives, and getting more out of them. You've said Iwas getting out more ore than the others, and I think perhaps I've got afew ideas--a sort of hunch about making the Greenies themselves moreproductive."
"Well, come in, come in then. What is it?"
"I've been doing a lot of thinking about the Greenies, sir. You rememberI thought they were vegetable matter, and the way they feed themselvesthey'd need ground that either has lots of natural chemicals in it, orthat has been well-fertilized, to keep 'em well and strong. That beingthe case, the dirt that forms the floors of their huts and stockadeswould very quickly become exhausted of those vital chemicals, and thenatives would begin suffering from malnutrition, it seems to me. My ganghas been slowing down recently, although they still seem to be trying ashard as ever."
"Why ... why, yes," the superintendent's eyes had widened in surprise asHanlon talked. "That makes sense. Imagine none of us thinking of that!But then, we've always thought of them merely as dumb beasts."
"So I've been wondering if it wouldn't be a good idea either to move thestockades every month or so, or else let the natives 'feed' out in theopen jungle every day--the sunlight would probably help them, too, beingvegetable. They could be tied together and guarded, of course, so theycouldn't escape."
Philander slumped down into his chair in deep thought, and Hanlon glowedinwardly with the hope that something would come of this plan. It wouldhelp him with Philander, if it worked. Also, it would help the Guddus,for Geek had often grown almost hysterical when complaining about theterrible hunger they all felt so continuously.
Suddenly Philander sat erect. "I believe we've got a few sacks ofcommercial nitrates in the storehouse. Let's experiment and see if theycan use that."
He rose purposefully from his desk and the two hurried to one of thewarehouses. There Philander soon found the sacks of chemical, and Hanloncarried one as they went to the corral.
"May we try it on my crew first, sir?" he asked anxiously. "They seem tosort of like me, and I've learned more or less how to guess theirreactions by their facial movements, so I think I could tell whetherthey like it or not."
"Sure, that's a good idea," and they went on to the compound that housedHanlon's special crew.
Inside, while Hanlon apparently chose at random, it was actually Geck towhom he beckoned. When the native approached, feigning fear andreluctance--Hanlon hid a sudden grin at Geck's unexpected actingbrilliance--the young man opened the sack and poured out a little of thenitrate.
He stooped over and stuck his fingers into the stuff then rose andgestured to Geck to put his feeding fingers into it the same way.Meanwhile Hanlon was telepathing the exact information to his friend, asbest he could with his limited ability.
Gingerly Geck stooped, and after a few false starts finally put one ofhis fingers into the little pile of nitrate, and activated the feedingsensories. For a few moments he stood thus, doubtfully, then his mannerclearly indicated joy and surprised happiness. He began working thatlittle triangular-shaped mouth, and the others crowded closer.
Telepathically he informed Hanlon that this was wonderful--exactly thefood element the natives needed so desperately.
"It seems to think it's all okay," Hanlon said aloud to Philander. "I'llspread out a little more for them all," and without waiting forpermission he made a long, narrow pile of the fertilizer clear acrossthe width of the hut. Instantly the rest of the natives crowded alongthat line and stuck their feeding fingers into it. Soon theirsilly-looking faces expressed their equivalent of blissful smiles ofcomplete satisfaction, and Hanlon's mind was suffused with thoughts ofpleasure and gratitude for his kindness.