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diff --git a/26956.txt b/26956.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9f7eeb7 --- /dev/null +++ b/26956.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1060 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Alien Offer, by Al Sevcik + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Alien Offer + +Author: Al Sevcik + +Illustrator: Llewellyn + +Release Date: October 18, 2008 [EBook #26956] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALIEN OFFER *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + _In space, a vengeful fleet waited.... Then + the furred strangers arrived with a plan to + save Earth's children. But the General wasn't + sure if he could trust an_ + + +ALIEN OFFER + +By AL SEVCIK + + +ILLUSTRATOR LLEWELLYN + + +"You are General James Rothwell?" + +Rothwell sighed. "Yes, Commander Aku. We have met several times." + +"Ah, yes. I recognize your insignia. Humans are so alike." The alien +strode importantly across the office, the resilient pads of his broad +feet making little plopping sounds on the rug, and seated himself +abruptly in the visitor's chair beside Rothwell's desk. He gave a sharp +cry, and another alien, shorter, but sporting similar, golden fur, +stepped into the office and closed the door. Both wore simple, brown +uniforms, without ornamentation. + +"I am here," Aku said, "to tell you something." He stared impassively at +Rothwell for a minute, his fur-covered, almost human face completely +expressionless, then his gaze shifted to the window, to the hot runways +of New York International Airport and to the immense gray spaceship +that, even from the center of the field, loomed above the hangars and +passenger buildings. For an instant, a quick, unguessable emotion +clouded the wide black eyes and tightened the thin lips, then it was +gone. + +Rothwell waited. + +"General, Earth's children must all be aboard my ships within one week. +We will start to load on the sixth day, next Thursday." He stood. + +[Illustration: The aliens supervised the loading as anguished parents +looked on.] + +Rothwell locked eyes with the alien, and leaned forward, grinding his +knuckles into the desk top. "You know that's impossible. We can't select +100,000 children from every country and assemble them in only six days." + +"You will do it." The alien turned to leave. + +"Commander Aku! Let me remind you ..." + +Aku spun around, eyes flashing. "General Rothwell! Let _me_ remind you +that two weeks ago I didn't even know Earth existed, and since +accidentally happening across your sun system and learning of your +trouble I have had my entire trading fleet of a hundred ships in orbit +about this planet while all your multitudinous political subdivisions +have filled the air with talk and wrangle. + +"I am sorry for Earth, but my allegiance is to my fleet and I cannot +remain longer than seven more days and risk being caught up in your +destruction. Now, either you accept my offer to evacuate as many humans +as my ships will carry, or you don't." He paused. "You are the planet's +evacuation coordinator; you will give me an answer." + + * * * * * + +Rothwell's arms sagged, he sunk back down into his chair, all pretense +gone. Slowly he swung around to face the window and the gray ship, +standing like a Gargantuan sundial counting the last days of Earth. He +almost whispered. "We are choosing the children. They will be ready in +six days." + +He heard the door open and close. He was alone. + +Five years ago, he thought, we cracked the secret of faster-than-light +travel, and since then we've built about three dozen exploration ships +and sent them out among the stars to see what they could see. + +He stared blankly at the palms of his hand. I wonder what it was we +expected to find? + +We found that the galaxy was big, that there were a lot of stars, not so +many planets, and practically no other life--at least no intelligence to +compare with ours. Then ... He jabbed a button on his intercom. + +"Ed Philips here. What is it Jim?" + +"Doc, are you sure your boys have hypo'd, couched, and hypno'd the _Leo_ +crew with everything you've got?" + +The voice on the intercom sighed. "Jim, those guys haven't got a memory +of their own. We know everything about each one of them, from the hurts +he got falling off tricycles to the feel of the first girl he kissed. +Those men aren't lying, Jim." + +"I never thought they were lying, Doc." Rothwell paused for a minute and +studied the long yellow hairs that grew sparsely across the back of his +hand, thickened to a dense grove at his wrist, and vanished under the +sleeve of his uniform. He looked back at the intercom. "Doc, all I know +is that three perfectly normal guys got on board that ship, and when it +came back we found a lot of jammed instruments and three men terrified +almost to the point of insanity." + +"Jim, if you'd seen ..." + +Rothwell interrupted. "I know. Five radioactive planets with the fresh +scars of cobalt bombs and the remains of civilizations. Then radar +screens erupting crazily with signals from a multi-thousand ship space +fleet; vector computers hurriedly plotting and re-plotting the +fast-moving trajectory, submitting each time an unvarying answer for the +fleet's destination--our own solar system." He slapped his hand flat +against the desk. "The point is, Doc, it's not much to go on, and we +don't dare send another ship to check for fear of attracting attention +to ourselves. If we could only be _sure_." + +"Jim," over the intercom, Philips' voice seemed to waver slightly, +"those men honestly saw what they say. I'd stake my life on it." + +"All of us are, Doc." He flipped the off button. Just thirty days now, +since the scout ship _Leo's_ discovery and the panicked dash for home +with the warning. Not that the warning was worth much, he reflected, +Earth had no space battle fleet. There had never been any reason to +build one. + +Then, two weeks ago, Aku's trading fleet had descended from nowhere, +having blundered, he said, across Earth's orbit while on a new route +between two distant star clusters. When told of the impending attack, +Aku immediately offered to cancel his trip and evacuate as many humans +as his ships could hold, so that humanity would at least survive, +somewhere in the galaxy. Earth chose to accept his offer. + +"Hobson's choice," Rothwell growled to himself. "No choice at all." +After years of handling hot and cold local wars and crises of every +description, his military mind had become conditioned to a complete +disbelief in fortuitous coincidence, and he gagged at the thought of Aku +"just happening by." Still frowning, he punched a yellow button on his +desk, and reviewed in his mind the things he wanted to say. + + * * * * * + +"Jim! Isn't everything all right?" + +Chagrined, Rothwell scrambled to his feet, the President had never +answered so quickly before. He faced the screen on the wall to his right +and saluted, amazed once again at how old the man looked. Sparse white +hair criss-crossed haphazardly over the President's head, his face was +lined with deep trenches that not even the most charitable could call +wrinkles, and the faded eyes that stared from deep caverns no longer +radiated the flaming vitality that had inspired victorious armies in the +African war. + +"Commander Aku was just here, sir. He demands that the children be +ready for evacuation next Thursday. I told him that it would be damned +difficult." + +The face on the screen paled perceptibly. "I hope you didn't anger the +commander!" + +Rothwell ground his teeth. "I told him we'd deliver the goods on +Thursday." + +Presidential lips tightened. "I don't care for the way you said that, +General." + +Rothwell straightened. "I apologize, sir. It's just that this whole +lousy setup has me worried silly. I don't like Aku making like a +guardian angel and us having no choice but to dance to his harp." His +fingers clenched. "God knows we need his help, and I guess its wrong to +ask too many questions, but how come he's only landed one of his ships, +and why is it that he and his lieutenant are the only aliens to leave +that ship--the only aliens we've ever even seen? It just doesn't figure +out!" There, he thought, I've said it. + +The President looked at him quietly for a minute, then answered softly, +"I know, Jim, but what else can we do?" Rothwell winced at the shake in +the old man's voice. + +"I don't know," he said. "But Aku's got us in a hell of a spot." + +"Uh, Jim. You haven't said this in public, have you?" + +Rothwell snorted. "No, _sir_, I don't care for a panic." + +"There, there, Jim." The President smiled weakly. "We can't expect the +aliens to act like we do, can we?" He began to adopt the preacher tone +he used so effectively in his campaign speeches. "We must be thankful +for the chance breeze that wafted Commander Aku to these shores, and for +his help. Maybe the war fleet won't arrive after all and everything will +turn out all right. You're doing a fine job, Jim." The screen went +blank. + + * * * * * + +Rothwell felt sick. He felt sorry for the President, but sorrier for the +Western Democratic Union, to be captained by such a feeble thing. +Leaning back in his chair, he glared at the empty screen. "You can't +solve problems by wishing them away. You knew that once." + +His mind wandered, and for a minute he thought he could actually feel +the growing pressure of three billion people waiting for the computers +of Moscow Central to make their impartial choice from the world's +children. Trained mathematicians, the best that could be mustered from +every major country, monitored each phase of the project to insure its +absolute honesty. One hundred thousand children were to be picked +completely at random; brown, yellow, black, white, red; sick or well; +genius or moron; every child had an equal chance. This fact, this fact +alone gave every parent hope, and possibly prevented world-wide rioting. + +But with the destruction of the planet an almost certainty, the +collective nervous system was just one micron away from explosion. +There was nothing else to think about or talk about, and no one tried to +pretend any different. + +Rothwell's eyes moved involuntarily to the little spherical tri-photo on +his desk, just an informal shot he'd snapped a few months back of Martha +and her proudest possessions, their rambunctious, priceless off-spring: +Jim, Jr., in his space scouts uniform, and Mary Ellen with that crazy +hair-do she was so proud of then, but had already forgotten. + +"Damn!" he said aloud. "Dammit to hell!" In one quick movement, he spun +his chair around and jabbed at the intercom. "Get the heli!" His voice +crackled. + +Grabbing his hat, he yanked open the door and strode into the sudden +quiet of the small office. He turned right and went out through a side +entrance to a small landing ramp, arriving just as his personal heli +touched down. He climbed in. "To the ship." + +As he settled back in the hard seat, Rothwell offered a silent thanks +that, instead of asking which ship, Sergeant Johnson promptly lifted and +headed for the gray space vessel that dominated the field. + +A few hundred yards from the craft he said, "You'd better set her down +here, Sarge, and let me walk in. Our friends might get nervous about +something flying in at them." + +He jumped out, squinting against the hot glare off the concrete, and +then, with a slight uneasiness, stepped into the dark shadow that +pointed a thousand feet along the runway, away from the setting sun. He +walked towards the ship. + +A few seconds later, his eye caught a small, unexplained flash and he +threw himself flat just as a section of pavement exploded, a dozen feet +ahead. + +Cursing, Rothwell picked himself off the ground, brushed the dust off +his uniform, and stood quietly. He didn't have long to wait. + +A small cubicle jutted out from the ship and lowered itself along a +monorail running down to the ground. The side nearest him opened +revealing, as Rothwell expected, Commander Aku and his lieutenant who +both hurried over to where he was standing, as if to keep him from +coming forward to meet them--and in so doing coming nearer the ship. As +the commander trotted rapidly towards him, Rothwell noted that he was +still buttoning his jacket and that the shirt underneath looked +suspiciously as if it hadn't been buttoned at all. Funny, he thought, +that my presence should cause such a panic. + +"General, what a pleasure." The commander's disconcerted look belied his +words, but even as he spoke he began to regain his composure and assume +the poker face that Rothwell had come to expect. + +"I do hope," said Rothwell, "that my visit hasn't inconvenienced you." + +Aku and his lieutenant traded swift glances, neither said anything. + +"Well," Rothwell began again, "I am here to convey to you the good +wishes of the President of our country and to submit a request from him +and from the other governments of the Earth." + +Aku straightened. "Though merely the commander of a poor trading fleet, +I feel sure I speak for my empire when I wish your President good +health. The request?" + + * * * * * + +Rothwell spoke evenly, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. +"Commander, when the attack comes we expect that Earth with all its life +will be annihilated. But your offer to transport a hundred thousand +children to your own home worlds has prevented despair, and has at least +given us hope that if we will not see the future our children will." + +Aku nodded slightly, avoiding his eyes. "You take it well." + +"But it takes more than hope, Commander. We need some assurance, also, +that our children will be all right." He took an involuntary step nearer +the alien, whose facial muscles never moved, and who turned away +slightly, refusing to meet Rothwell's eyes. + +"Commander, you and your lieutenant are the only members of your race +that we have ever seen, and then only on official business. We would +like very much to meet the others. Why don't you land your ships and +give the crews liberty, so that we can meet them informally and they can +get to know us, also? That way it won't seem as if we are giving our +kids over to complete strangers." + +Without turning his head, Aku said flatly, "That is impossible. Do you +want reasons?" + +"No," Rothwell said quietly. "If you don't want to do something, it's +easy enough to think up reasons." He ached to reach out and grab the +alien neck, to shake some expression into that frozen face. "Look, +Commander, surely the friendship of a doomed race can't bring any harm +to your crew!" + +Aku faced him now. "What you ask is impossible." + +Ashamed of the desperate note that crept inadvertently into his voice, +Rothwell said, "Commander, will you let me, alone, briefly enter your +ship, so that I can tell my people what it is like?" + +Aku and the lieutenant traded a long, silent look, then the lieutenant +almost imperceptibly shrugged his shoulders. Without moving, turned +partly away from Rothwell, Aku said, simply, "No." The two started to +walk back to the ship. + +"Commander!" + +They stopped, but didn't turn. + +"Commander Aku, if you have any sort of God in your empire, or any sort +of honor that your race swears by, please tell me one thing--tell me +that our children will be safe, I won't ask you anything else." + +The two aliens stood still, facing away from him, towards their ship. +Minutes passed. Rothwell stood quietly, looking at their backs, human +appearing, but hiding unguessable thoughts. Neither of them moved, or +said a word. Finally, he turned and walked away, back towards his heli. + +He leaned back in the little heli's bucket seat and ran a large hand +through unruly yellow hair that was already flecked with white. The +first evening lights of Brooklyn and Queens and, off to the left, +Manhattan, moved unseen beneath him as the craft headed towards his +home. Dammit, he thought, is it that Aku just doesn't care what we +think, or that he cares very much what we would think if we knew +whatever it is he's hiding? + +He banged his fists together in frustration. How the hell can anyone +guess what goes on in an alien mind? His whole damn brain is probably +completely different! Maybe to him a poker face is friendly. Maybe he's +honestly not hiding anything at all. He looked out as the heli slowly +started its descent. No evidence, he thought. Not a shred, except a +suspicious mind and, he glanced at the dirt on his trousers, and a shell +exploding in my face. + +He slapped his hat back on and whirled to the surprised pilot. "Dammit, +I don't make the decisions, I'm just in charge of loading, and if the +President says it's okay, then it's okay with me!" He stepped out onto +the grass of his yard, and quashed a little shriek of conscience +somewhere in the back of his mind. + + * * * * * + +Blinding lights pinned him in mid-stride. A familiar voice sprang out of +the glare, "Here he is now viewers, General James Rothwell, commander of +the western armies, and head of the Earth evacuation project. General, +International-TV cameras have been waiting secretly in your yard for +hours for your return." + +As his eyes adjusted, Rothwell distinguished a camera crew, their small +portable instrument, and a young, smooth-talking announcer that he had +seen several times on television. He forced the annoyance out of his +eyes. This, he thought, is all I need. + +"What the general doesn't know," the announcer went on, "is that earlier +this evening it was announced by Moscow Central that the computers had +picked his son as one of the evacuees!" + +The shock was visible on 150,000,000 TV sets. Completely unexpected, the +surprise of the announcement hit Rothwell like a physical blow; his eyes +widened, his chin dropped, and for an instant the world's viewers read +in his face the frank emotions of a father, unshielded by military +veneer. Then years of training took command, and he faced the camera, +apparently calm, though churning internally. The odds, he thought +confusedly, the odds must be at least ten thousand to one! Then he +realized that someone was talking to him, waving a microphone. + +"Er, I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch ..." he mumbled at the camera. + +The announcer laughed amiably. "Certainly can't blame you, this must be +a really big night! How does it feel, General, for your son to be one of +the evacuees?" + +Something in the back of his mind twisted the question. How does it +feel, General, to turn your only son over to a poker-faced alien who +shoots when you walk near his ship? "I'm not sure," he said, "how I +feel." + +Talking excitedly, the announcer drew closer. "To think that your name +will live forever in the vast star clusters of the galaxy!" He lowered +his voice. "General, speaking now unofficially, as a parent, to the +thousands of other parents whose children may also be selected, and to +the rest of us who ..." he seemed to stumble for a word, and for an +instant Rothwell saw him, too, as a man worried and afraid, instead of +as part of a television machine. "Well, General, _you've_ had contact +with the aliens, are you glad your son is going?" + +Rothwell looked at the strained face of the announcer, at the camera +crew quietly eyeing him, and at the small huddled group of neighbors +hovering in the background, and he knew that his next words might be the +most critical he would ever use in his life. In a world strained +emotionally almost beyond endurance, the wrong words, a hint of a +suspicion, could spark the riots that would kill millions and bring +total destruction. + +He faced the camera and said calmly, "I am glad my son is going. I wish +it could happen for everyone. Commander Aku has assured me that +everything will turn out all right." Mentally he begged for forgiveness, +there was nothing else he could say. Sweat glistened on his forehead as +he tried to fight down the memory of Aku turning his back on the plea +that echoed in his brain--"tell me that our children will be safe." + +The front door of the house banged open and all at once Martha was in +his arms, crying, laughing. "Oh, Jim, I'm so glad, so very glad!" +Rothwell blinked his eyes as he put his arm around her and waved the +camera away. Tears sparkled on his cheeks; but neither Martha nor the +viewers knew why. + + * * * * * + +The next morning Aku and his ever-present lieutenant were waiting when +Rothwell's heli set him down in front of the administration building, a +few minutes later than usual. They followed him into his office. + +"Coffee?" Rothwell held out a paper cup. + +"No, thank you," said Aku, as expressionless as ever. "We are here to +make final arrangements for the evacuation." + +"I see. Well," said Rothwell, "Thursday will be a very painful day for +us and we will want to expedite things as much as possible." + +Aku nodded. + +Rothwell went on. "I have made arrangements to have a hundred air fields +cleared at various population centers around the world. That way your +ships can land simultaneously, one at each field, and the loading can be +finished in very little time. Now," he opened a desk drawer, "here is a +list, of ..." + + * * * * * + +Aku held up a fur-covered hand. "That will not be possible." + +Rothwell looked down at his desk and closed his eyes briefly. I knew it, +he thought, I knew this would happen, sure as hell. He raised his head. +"Impossible?" + +"We will first land twenty ships. These twenty must be fully loaded and +back in orbit before the next will land. We will use the first twenty +air fields on your list." + +Rothwell took a deep breath. "But I thought you wanted to get away as +soon as possible! It will take at least an extra day to load according +to your scheme." + +"Will it?" Aku moved to go, his lieutenant reached to open the door. + +On an impulse, Rothwell stepped forward. "Commander, if you had a son +would you send him away like this?" + +Aku stopped, and looked directly at him with even, black eyes; then the +gaze moved through and past him, to the window and the ship beyond. For +a minute his expression altered, changing almost to one of pain. When +he spoke, it was almost to himself. "My father loved his children more +than ..." He started as his lieutenant suddenly clapped a hand on his +shoulder. The expression vanished. They left together, without looking +at Rothwell or saying another word. + +For several minutes Rothwell stared frowning at the closed door. He +walked thoughtfully back to his desk, and lowered himself slowly into +the chair. + +He sat for a long time, trying to puzzle through the picture. Finally +he stood and paced the room. "Suppose," he said to himself, "just +suppose that not all of those hundred ships up there are really cargo +ships. Suppose that, say, only twenty are. Then, after those twenty were +loaded ..." He swung around to look again at the long, slim silhouette +poised high against the main runway. "With ocean vessels, it's the +fighting ships that are lean and slender." + +Bending over his desk, he nudged an intercom button with his finger. +"Doc, how would one go about trying to understand an alien's +reactions?" + +Philips' voice shot right back. "Well, Jim, the very first thing, you'd +have to be sure they weren't exactly the same as a human's reactions." + +Rothwell paused, startled. "It can't be, Doc. Why, if Aku was a human +I'd say ..." He stiffened, feeling the hair rise at the back of his +neck. The short, curt answers, the refusal to meet his eyes, the frozen +expression clicked into pattern. "Doc ... I'd say he was being forced to +do something he hated like hell to do." + +Tensely, he straightened and contemplated the lean, gray spaceship. Then +he whirled around and slapped every button on the intercom. + + * * * * * + +Thursday. The sun pecked fitfully at the low overcast while a sullen +crowd watched a squat alien ship descend vertically, to finally settle +with a flaming belch not far from the first. Similar crowds watched +similar landings at nineteen other airports around the world, but the +loading was to start first in New York. + +An elevator-like box swung out from the fat belly of the ship and was +lowered rapidly to the ground. Two golden-hued aliens, in uniforms +resembling Aku's, stepped out and walked about a thousand feet towards +the crowd. Only children actually being loaded were to go beyond this +point; parents had to stay at the airport gates. + +"When do I go, Dad?" + +"Shortly, son." Rothwell laid his hand on the lean shoulder. "You're in +the second hundred." There was a brief, awkward silence. "Martha, you'd +better take him over to the line." He held out his hand. "So long, son." + +Jim, Jr., shook his hand gravely, then, without a word, suddenly threw +his hands tight around his younger sister. He took his mother's hand, +and they walked slowly over to the sad line that was forming beyond the +gate. + +Rothwell turned to his daughter. "You going over there too, kitten?" The +words were gruff in his tight throat. + +She wiped a hand quickly across her cheek. "No, Dad, I guess I'll stay +here with you." She stood close beside him. + +Aku, forgotten until now, cleared his throat. "I think the loading +should start, General." + +Raising his hand in a half-salute, Rothwell signaled to a captain +standing near the gate who turned and motioned to a small cordon of +military police. Shortly, a group of fifty of the first youngsters in +the line separated from the others and moved slowly out onto the +concrete ribbon towards the waiting ship. The rest of the line +hesitated, then edged reluctantly up to the gate, to take the place of +the fifty who had left. They waited there, the children of a thousand +families, suddenly dead quiet, staring after the fifty that slowly moved +away. + +They walked quietly, in a tight group, without any antics or horseplay +which, in itself, gave the event an air of unreality. Approaching the +ship, they seemed to huddle even closer together, forming a pathetically +tiny cluster in the shadow of the towering space cruiser. The title of a +book that he had read once, many years before, flashed unexpectedly in +Rothwell's memory, _The Story of Mankind_. He looked sadly after the +fifty, then back at the silent line. Were these frightened kids now +writing the final period in the last chapter? He shook himself, work to +be done, no time now for daydreams. + +As the fifty reached the ship and started to enter the elevator, +Rothwell turned and beckoned to some technicians standing out of sight +just inside the entrance to the control tower. Three of them ran out and +set up what looked like a television set, only with three screens. One +ran back, unreeling a power cable, while a fourth flicked on a bank of +switches, making feverish, minute adjustments. Rothwell felt the sweat +in his hands. "Is it okay, Sergeant?" + +The back of the sergeant's shirt was wet though the air was cool. "It's +got to be, sir!" His fingers played across the knobs. "All that metal, +the whole thing is critical as ... Ah!" He jumped back. The screens +flashed into life. + + * * * * * + +Aku stiffened. His lieutenant gasped audibly, made a jerky movement +towards the screens, then suddenly became aware of three MPs standing +beside him, hands nonchalantly cradling blunt-nosed weapons. + +All three receivers showed similar scenes, the milling youngsters and +the ship, but from up close, the pictures jerking and swaying +erratically as if the cameras were somehow fastened to moving human +beings. Then the scenes condensed into a cramped, jostling blackness as +the fifty crowded into the elevator and were lifted up the side of the +ship. + +Next, were three views of a large room, bare except for what appeared to +be overhead cranes and other mechanical paraphernalia of a military shop +or warehouse. For a while the fifty moved about restlessly, then the +cameras swung about simultaneously to face a wall that slowly slid +apart. + +Rothwell froze. "Good Lord!" + +Six murky _things_ moved from the open wall towards the cameras, which +fell back to the opposite side of the room. Each was large, many times +the size of a man, but somehow indistinct, for the cameras didn't convey +any sense of shape or form. For an instant, one of the screens flashed a +picture of a terrified human face, and arms raised protectively as the +shadowy things moved in upon the group. + +A projection snapped out from one, grabbed two of the humans, and +hurled them into a corner. Then it motioned a dozen or so others over to +the same spot. With similar harsh, sweeping movements, the group of +humans was quickly broken up into three roughly equal segments. One of +the groups seemed to be protecting someone who appeared seriously hurt. +A black tentacle lashed out and one of the screens went blank. Then +another. + +The third showed a small group pushed stumbling through a narrow door, +down a short passageway, and abruptly into blackness. Something that +looked like bars flashed across the screen, then a dark liquid trickled +across the camera lens, blotting out the view. + +Eyes blazing, Rothwell whirled on Aku. "Throughout our history, +Commander, humans have had one thing in common, our blasted pride! We +will not turn over our young to slavery, and by hell if we die, we'll +die fighting!" He jerked up his coat sleeve, barked an order into a +small transmitter on his wrist, and, grabbing his daughter, threw +himself flat on the concrete. + +Hesitating only an instant, Aku, his lieutenant, and the MPs hit the +ground as both spaceships vanished in a cataclysmic eruption of flame +and steel. + +Raising his head, Rothwell grinned crazily into the exploding debris, +imagining nineteen other ships suddenly disintegrating under the rocket +guns of nineteen different nations. He saw Earth, like a giant +porcupine, flicking thousands of atom tipped missiles into space from +hundreds of submarines and secret bases--the war power of the great +nations, designed for the ruin of each other, united to destroy the +alien fleet. + +He turned to Aku, "Midgets, volunteers with miniature TV cameras ..." he +stopped. + +The commander and his lieutenant had flung their arms about each other +and were crying like babies. Tentatively, Aku reached towards him. +"Those things, the _Eleele_, from another galaxy." He struggled for +words. "They captured your scout crew and implanted memories of +thousands of ships to create fear and make it easier to take slaves +before blasting you." He glanced up at the flashes in the sky. "This was +their only fleet." + + * * * * * + +Rothwell glared. "You helped them." + +Aku nodded miserably. "We had to. They thought you'd trust us because we +look almost human. It was a trick that worked before." Tears streamed +across his face, matting the golden fur. "You see, the radioactive +planets your men reported, one of them was--home." + + +THE END + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _Amazing Stories_ January 1959. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and + typographical errors have been corrected without note. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Alien Offer, by Al Sevcik + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ALIEN OFFER *** + +***** This file should be named 26956.txt or 26956.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/9/5/26956/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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