Once a Greech
remarkably humanoid?" he changed the subject.
They were, indeed. Except for a somewhat greenish cast of countenanceand distinctly purple hair, as they approached, in their brief, gaygarments and flower garlands, the natives resembled nothing so much as agroup of idealized South Sea Islanders of the nineteenth century.
Gigantic butterflies whizzed about their heads. Countless small animalsfrisked about their feet--more of the pink caterpillars; bright bluecreatures that were a winsome combination of monkey and koala; a kind oflarge, merry-eyed snake that moved by holding its tail in its mouth androlling like a hoop. All had faces that reminded the captain of the workof the celebrated twentieth-century artist W. Disney.
"By Polaris," he cried in disgust, "I might have known you'd find a_cute_ planet!"
"Moon, actually," the first officer said, "since it is in orbit aroundVirago XI, rather than Virago itself."
"Would you have _wanted_ them to be hostile?" Harkaway asked peevishly."Honestly, some people never seem to be satisfied."
From his proprietary airs, one would think Harkaway had created thenatives himself. "At least, with hostile races, you know where you are,"Iversen said. "I always suspect friendly life-forms. Friendliness simplyisn't a natural instinct."
"Who's being anthropomorphic now!" Harkaway chided.
Iversen flushed, for he had berated the young man for that particularfault on more than one occasion. Harkaway was too prone to interpretalien traits in terms of terrestrial culture. Previously, since allintelligent life-forms with which the _Herringbone_ had come intocontact had already been discovered by somebody else, that didn't mattertoo much. In this instance, however, any mistakes of contact orinterpretation mattered terribly. And Iversen couldn't see Harkaway notmaking a mistake; the boy simply didn't have it in him.
"You know you're superimposing our attitude on theirs," the juniorofficer continued tactlessly. "The Flimbotzik are a simple, friendly,_shig-livi_ people, closely resembling some of our historicalprimitives--in a nice way, of course."
"None of our primitives had space travel," Iversen pointed out.
"Well, you couldn't really call those things spaceships," Harkaway saiddeprecatingly.
"They go through space, don't they? I don't know what else you'd callthem."
"One judges the primitiveness of a race by its cultural andtechnological institutions," Harkaway said, with a lofty smile. "Andthese people are laughably backward. Why, they even believe inreincarnation--_mpoola_, they call it."
"How do you know all this?" Iversen demanded. "Don't tell me you professto speak the language already?"
"It's not a difficult language," Harkaway said modestly, "and I havemanaged to pick up quite a comprehensive smattering. I dare-say Ihaven't caught all the nuances--_heeka lob peeka_, as the Flimbotzikthemselves say--but they are a very simple people and probably theydon't have--"
"Are we going to keep them waiting," Iversen asked, "while we discussnuances? Since you say you speak the language so well, suppose you makethem a pretty speech all about how the Earth government extends the--Isuppose it would be hand, in this instance--of friendship to Flimbotand--"
Harkaway blushed. "I sort of did that already, acting as your deputy._Mpoo_--status--means so much in these simple societies, you know, andthey seemed to expect something of the sort. However, I'll introduce youto the Flimflim--the king, you know--" he pointed to an imposingindividual in the forefront of the crowd--"and get over all theamenities, shall I?"
"It would be jolly good of you," Iversen said frigidly.
* * * * *
It was a pity they hadn't discovered Flimbot much earlier in theirsurvey of the Virago System, Iversen thought with regret, because it wastruly a pleasant spot and a week was very little time in which toexplore a world and study a race, even one as simple as the gentleFlimbotzik actually turned out to be. It seemed amazing that they shouldhave developed anything as advanced as space travel, when their onlyground conveyances were a species of wagon drawn by plookik, a speciesof animal.
But Iversen had no time for further investigation. The _Herringbone's_fuel supply was calculated almost to the minute and so, willy-nilly, theEarthmen had to leave beautiful Flimbot at the end of the week, knowinglittle more about the Flimbotzik than they had before they came. OnlyHarkaway, who had spent the three previous weeks on Flimbot, had anyfurther knowledge of the Flimbotzik--and Iversen had little faith in anydata he might have collected.
"I don't believe Harkaway knows the language nearly as well as hepretends to," Iversen told the first officer as both of them watchedthe young lieutenant make the formal speech of farewell.
"Come now," the first officer protested. "Seems to me the boy is doingquite well. Acquired a remarkable command of the language, consideringhe's been here only four weeks."
"Remarkable, I'll grant you, but is it accurate?"
"He seems to communicate and that is the ultimate objective of language,is it not?"
"Then why did the Flimbotzik fill the tanks with wine when I distinctlytold him to ask for water?"
Of course the ship could synthesize water from its own waste products,if necessary, but there was no point in resorting to that expedient whena plentiful supply of pure H_{2}O was available on the world.
"A very understandable error, sir. Harkaway explained it to me. It seemsthe word for water, _m'koog_, is very similar to the word for wine,_mk'oog_. Harkaway himself admits his pronunciation isn't perfect and--"
"All right," Iversen interrupted. "What I'd like to know is whathappened to the _mk'oog_, then--"
"The m'koog, you mean? It's in the tanks."
"--because, when they came to drain the wine out of the tanks to put thewater in, the tanks were already totally empty."
"I have no idea," the first officer said frostily, "no idea at all. Ifyou'll glance at my papers, you'll note I'm Temperance by affiliation,but if you'd like to search my cabin, anyway, I--"
"By Miaplacidus, man," Iversen exclaimed, "I wasn't accusing you! Ofthat, anyway!"
Everybody on the vessel was so confoundedly touchy. Lucky they had astable commanding officer like himself, or morale would simply go topot.
* * * * *
"Well, it's all over," Harkaway said, joining them up at the airlock inone lithe bound--a mean feat in that light gravity. "And a right goodspeech, if I do say so myself. The Flimflim says he will count thethlubbzik with ardent expectation until the mission from Earth arriveswith the promised gifts."
"Just what gifts did you take it upon yourself to--" Iversen began, whenhe was interrupted by a voice behind them crying, "Woe, woe, woe!"
And, thrusting himself past the three other officers, Dr. Smullyanaddressed the flim'puu, or farewell committee, assembled outside theship. "Do not let the Earthmen return to your fair planet, O happilyignorant Flimbotzik," he declaimed, "lest wretchedness and misery beyour lot as a result. Tell them, 'Hence!' Tell them, 'Begone!' Tellthem, 'Avaunt!' For, know ye, humanity is a blight, a creeping canker--"
He was interrupted by the captain's broad palm clamping down over hismouth.
"Clap him in the brig, somebody, until we get clear of this place,"Iversen ordered wearily. "If Harkaway could pick up the Flimbotzilanguage, the odds are that some of the natives have picked up Terran."
"That's right, always keep belittling me," Harkaway said sulkily as twoof the crewmen carried off the struggling medical officer, who left anaromatic wake behind him that bore pungent testimonial to where a part,at least, of the _mk'oog_ had gone. "No wonder it took me so long tofind myself."
"Oh, have you found yourself at last?" Iversen purred. "Splendid! Nowthat you know where you are, supposing you do me a big favor and go loseyourself again while we make ready for blastoff."
"For shame," said the first officer as Harkaway stamped off. "Forshame!"
"The captain's a hard man," observed the chief petty officer, who waslounging negligently against a wall, doing nothing.
r />
"Ay, that he is," agreed the crewman who was assisting him. "That heis--a hard man, indeed."
"By Caroli, be quiet, all of you!" Iversen yelled. The very next voyage,he was going to have a new crew if he had to transfer to Colonization todo it! Even colonists couldn't be as obnoxious as the sons of space withwhich he was cursed.
* * * * *
It was only after the