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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ddb00c9 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51867 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51867) diff --git a/old/51867-8.txt b/old/51867-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 2a99467..0000000 --- a/old/51867-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3128 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Sentry Of The Sky, by Evelyn E. Smith - -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/license - - -Title: Sentry Of The Sky - -Author: Evelyn E. Smith - -Release Date: April 26, 2016 [EBook #51867] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SENTRY OF THE SKY *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - SENTRY OF THE SKY - - BY EVELYN E. SMITH - - Illustrated by RITTER - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Galaxy Magazine February 1961. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - - There had to be a way for Sub-Archivist - Clarey to get up in the world--but this - way was right out of the tri-di dramas. - - -Clarey had checked in at Classification Center so many times that he -came now more out of habit than hope. He didn't even look at the card -that the test machine dropped into his hand until he was almost to the -portway. And then he stopped. "Report to Room 33 for reclassification," -it said. - -Ten years before, Clarey would have been ecstatic, sure that -reclassification could be only in one direction. The machine had -not originally given him a job commensurate with his talents; why -should it suddenly recognize them? He'd known of people who had been -reclassified--always downward. I'm a perfectly competent Sub-Archivist, -he told himself; I'll fight. - -But he knew fighting wouldn't help. All he had was the right to refuse -any job he could claim was not in his line; the government would then -be obligated to continue his existence. There were many people who did -subsist on the government dole: the aged and the deficient and the -defective--and creative artists who refused to trammel their spirits -and chose to be ranked as Unemployables. Clarey didn't fit into those -categories. - -Dispiritedly, he passed along innumerable winding corridors and up -and down ramps that twisted and turned to lead into other ramps and -corridors. That was the way all public buildings were designed. It -was forbidden for the government to make any law-abiding individual -think the way it wanted him to think. But it could move him in any -direction it chose, and sometimes that served its purpose as well as -the reorientation machines. - -So the corridors he passed through were in constant eddying movement, -with a variety of individuals bent on a variety of objectives. For the -most part, they were of Low Echelon status, though occasionally an -Upper Echelon flashed his peremptory way past. Even though most L-Es -attempted to ape the U-E dress and manner, you could always tell the -difference. You could tell the difference among the different levels of -L-E, too--and there was no mistaking the Unemployables in their sober -gray habits, devoid of ornament. It was, Clarey sometimes thought when -guilt feelings bothered him, the most esthetic of costumes. - - * * * * * - -The machine in Room 33 extracted whatever information it was set to -receive, then spewed Clarey out and sent him on his way to Rooms 34, -35, and 36, where other machines repeated the same process. Room 37 -proved to be that rare thing in the hierarchy of rooms--a destination. -There was a human Employment Commissioner in it, splendidly garbed in -crimson silvet and alexandrites--very Upper Echelon, indeed. He wore a -gold mask, a common practice with celebrities who were afraid of being -overwhelmed by their admirers, an even more common practice with U-E -non-celebrities who enjoyed the thrill of distinguished anonymity. - -Then Clarey stopped looking at the Commissioner. There was a girl -sitting next to him, on a high-backed chair like his. Clarey had never -seen a U-E girl so close before. Only the Greater Archivists had -direct contact with the public, and Clarey wasn't likely to meet a U-E -socially, even if he'd had a social life. The girl was too fabulous -for him to think of her as a woman, a female; but he would have liked -to have her in his archives, in the glass case with the rare editions. - -"Good morning, Sub-Archivist Clarey," the man said mellowly. "Good -of you to come in. There's rather an unusual position open and the -machines tell us you're the one man who can fill it. Please sit down." -He indicated a small, hard stool. - -Clarey remained standing. "I've been a perfectly competent -Sub-Archivist," he declared. "If MacFingal has--if there have been any -complaints, I should have been told first." - -"There have been no complaints. The reclassification is upward." - -"You mean I've made it as a Musician!" Clarey cried, sinking to the -hard little stool in joyful atony. - -"Well, no, not exactly a Musician. But it's a highly artistic type of -job with possible musical overtones." - -Clarey became a hollow man once more. No matter what it was, if it -wasn't as duly accredited Musician, it didn't matter. The machine could -keep him from putting his symphonies down on tape, but it couldn't keep -them from coursing in his head. That it could never take away from -him. Or the resultant headache, either. - -"What is the job, then?" he asked dully. - -"A very important position, Sub-Archivist. In fact, the future welfare -of this planet may depend on it." - -"It's a trick to make me take a job nobody else wants," Clarey sneered. -"And it must be a pretty rotten job for you to go to so much trouble." - -The girl, whom he'd almost forgotten, gave a little laugh. Her eyes, he -noticed, were hazel. There were L-E girls, he supposed, who also had -hazel eyes--but a different hazel. - - * * * * * - -"Perhaps this will convince you of the job's significance," the -interviewer said huffily. He took off his mask and looked at Clarey -with anticipation. He had a sleek, ordinary, middle-aged-to-elderly -face. - -There was an awkward interval. "Don't you recognize me?" he demanded. - -Clarey shook his head. The girl laughed again. - -"A blow to my ego, but proof that you're the right man for this job. -I'm General Spano. And this is my Mistress, Secretary Han Vollard." - -The girl inclined her head. - -"At least you must know my name?" Spano said querulously. - -"I've heard it," Clarey admitted. "'The Fiend of Fomalhaut,' they call -you," he went on before he could catch himself and stop the words. - -The girl clapped her hand over her mouth, but the laughter spilled out -over and around it, pretty U-E laughter. - -Spano finally laughed, too. "It's a phrase that might be used about -any military man. One carries out one's orders to the best of one's -ability." - -"Besides," Clarey observed in a non-Archivistic manner, "what concern -have I with your military morality?" - -"He's absolutely perfect for the job, Steff!" she cried. "I didn't -think the machines were that good!" - -"We mustn't underestimate the machines, Han," Spano said. "They're -efficient, very efficient. Someday they'll take over from us." - -"There're some things they'll never be able to do," she said. Her hazel -eyes lingered on Clarey's. "Aren't you glad, Archivist?" - -"Sub-Archivist," he corrected her frostily. "And I hadn't really -thought about it." - -"That's not what the machines say, Sub-Archivist," she told him, her -voice candy-sweet. "They deep-probed your mind. You don't do anything, -but you've thought about it a lot, haven't you?" - -Clarey felt the blood surge up. "My thoughts are my own concern. You -haven't the right to use them to taunt me." - -"But I think you're attractive," she protested. "Honestly I do. In a -different way. Just go to a good tailor, put on a little weight, dye -your hair, and--" - -"And I wouldn't be different any more," Clarey finished. That wasn't -true; he would always be different. Not that he was deformed, just -unappealing. He was below average height and his eyes and hair and skin -were too light. In the past, he knew, there had been pale races and -dark races on Earth. With the discovery of other intelligent life-forms -to discriminate against together, the different races had fused into -a swarthy unity. Of course he could hide his etiolation with dye and -cosmetics, but those of really good quality cost more than he could -afford, and cheap maquillage was worse than none. Besides, why should -his appearance mean anything to anybody but himself? He'd had enough -beating around the bush! "Would you mind telling me exactly what the -job is?" - -"Intelligence agent," said Spano. - -"Isn't it exciting?" she put in. "Aren't you thrilled?" - - * * * * * - -Clarey bounced angrily from his chair. "I won't sit here and be -ridiculed!" - -"Why ridiculed?" Spano asked. "Don't you consider yourself an -intelligent man?" - -"Being an intelligence agent has nothing to do with intelligence!" -Clarey said furiously. "The whole thing's silly, straight out of the -tri-dis." - -"What do you have against the tri-dis, Sub-Archivist?" Spano's voice -was very quiet. - -"Don't you like any of them?" the girl said. "I just adore _Sentries of -the Sky_!" Her enthusiasm was tinged, obscurely, with warning. - -"Well, I enjoy it, too," Clarey said, sinking back to the stool. "It's -very entertaining, but I'm sure it isn't meant to be taken seriously." - -"Oh, but it is, Sub-Archivist Clarey," Spano said. "_Sentries of the -Sky_ happens to be produced by my bureau. We want the public to know -all about our operations--or as much as it's good for them to know--and -they find it more palatable in fictionalized form." - -"Documentaries always get low ratings," the girl said. "And you can't -really blame the public--documentaries are dull. Myself, I like a love -interest." Her eyes rested lingeringly on Clarey's. - -They must think I'm a fool, Clarey thought; yet why would they bother -to fool me? "But I am given to understand," he said to Spano, "even by -the tri-dis, that an intelligence agent needs special training, special -qualifications." - -"In this case, the special qualifications outweigh the training. And -you have the qualifications we need for Damorlan." - -"According to the machines, all I'm qualified for is human filing -cabinet. Is that what you want?" - -Spano was growing impatient. "Look, Clarey, the machines have decided -that you are not a Musician. Do you want to remain a Sub-Archivist for -the rest of your days or will you take this other road? Once you're on -a U-E level, you can fight the machines; tape your own music if you -like." - -Clarey said nothing, but his initial hostility was ebbing slowly away. - -"I wanted to be a writer," Spano said. "The machines said no. So -I became a soldier, rose to the top. Now--this is in strictest -confidence--I write most of the episodes of _Sentries of the Sky_ -myself. There's always another route for the man with guts and vision, -and, above all, faith. Why don't we continue the discussion over -lunch?" - - * * * * * - -It was almost unthinkable for L-E and U-E to eat together. For Clarey -this was an honor--too great an honor--and there was no way out of it. -Spano and the girl put on their masks; the general touched a section of -the wall and it slid back. There was a car waiting for them outside. -It skimmed over the delicately wrought, immensely strong bridges that, -together with the tunnels, linked the great glittering metropolis into -a vast efficient whole. - -Spano was not really broadminded. Although they went to the _Aurora -Borealis_, it was through a side door, and they were served in a -private dining room. Clarey was glad and nettled at the same time. - -The first few mouthfuls of the food tasted ambrosial; then it cloyed -and Clarey had to force it down with a thin, almost astringent pale -blue liquid. In itself, the liquor had only a mild, slightly pungent -taste, but it made everything else increasingly delightful--the -warm, luxurious little room, the perfume that wafted from the -air-conditioning ducts, Han Vollard. - -"Martian mountain wine," she warned him. "Rather overwhelming if you're -not used to it, and sometimes even if you are...." Her eyes rested on -the general. - -"But there are no mountains on Mars," Clarey said, startled. - -"That's it!" Spano chortled. "When you've drunk it, you see mountains!" -And he filled his glass again. - -While they ate, he told Clarey about Damorlan--its beautiful climate, -light gravity, intelligent and civilized natives. Though the planet -had been known for two decades, no one from Earth had ever been there -except a few selected government officials, and, of course, the regular -staff posted there. - -"You mean it hasn't been colonized yet?" Clarey was relieved, because -he felt he should, as an Archivist, have known more about the planet -than its name and coordinates. "Why? It sounds like a splendid place -for a colony." - -"The natives," Spano said. - -"There were natives on a lot of the planets we colonized. You disposed -of them somehow." - -"By co-existence in most cases, Sub-Archivist," Spano said drily. -"We've found it best for Terrans and natives to live side by side -in harmony. We dispose of a race only when it's necessary for the -greatest good. And we would especially dislike having to dispose of the -Damorlanti." - -"What's wrong with them?" Clarey asked, pushing away his half-finished -crême brulée a la Betelgeuse with a sigh. "Are they excessively -belligerent, then?" - -"No more belligerent than any intelligent life-form which has pulled -itself up by its bootstraps." - -"Rigid?" Clarey suggested. "Unadaptable? Intolerant? Indolent? -Personally offensive?" - - * * * * * - -Spano smiled. He leaned back with half-shut eyes, as if this were a -guessing game. "None of those." - -"Then why consider disposing of them?" Clarey asked. "They sound pretty -decent for natives. Don't wipe them out; even an ilf has a right to -live." - -"Clarey," the girl said, "you're drunk." - -"I'm in full command of my faculties," he assured her. "My wits are -all about me, moving me to ask how you could possibly expect to use -a secret agent on Damorlan if there are no colonists. What would he -disguise himself as--a touring Earth official?" He laughed with modest -triumph. - -Spano smiled. "He could disguise himself as one of them. They're -humanoid." - -"_That_ humanoid?" - -"That humanoid. So there you have the problem in a nutshell." - -But Clarey still couldn't see that there was a problem. "I thought -we--the human race, that is--were supposed to be the very apotheosis -of life species." - -"So we are. And that's the impression we've conveyed to such other -intelligent life-forms as we've taken under our aegis. What we're -afraid of is that the other ilfs might become ... confused when they -see the Damorlanti, think they're the ruling race." Leaning forward, -he pounded so loudly on the table both the others jumped. "This is our -galaxy and we don't intend that anyone, humanoid or otherwise, is going -to forget it!" - -"You're drunk, too, Steff," the girl said. She had changed completely; -her coquetry had dropped as if it were another mask. And it had been, -Clarey thought--an advertising mask. An offer had been made, and, if -he accepted it, he would get probably not Han herself but a reasonable -facsimile. - -He tried to sort things out in his whizzing brain. "But why should the -other ilfs ever see a Damorlant?" he asked, enunciating very precisely. -"I've never seen another life-form to speak of. I thought the others -weren't allowed off-planet--except the Baluts, and there's no mistaking -them, is there?" For the Baluts, although charming, were unmistakably -non-human, being purplish, amiable, and octopoid. - -"We don't forbid the ilfs to go off-planet," Spano proclaimed. -"That would be tyrannical. We simply don't allow them passage in our -spaceships. Since they don't have any of their own, they can't leave." - -"Then you're afraid the Damorlanti will develop space travel on their -own," Clarey cried. "Superior race--seeking after knowledge--spread -their wings and soar to the stars." He flapped his arms and fell off -the stool. - -"Really, Steff," Han said, motioning for the servo-mechanism to pick -Clarey up, "this is no way to conduct an interview." - -"I am a creative artist," the general said thickly. "I believe in -suiting the interview to the occasion. Clarey understands, for he, -too, is an artist." The general sneezed and rubbed his nose with -his silver sleeve. "Listen to me, boy. The Damorlanti are a fine, -creative, productive race. It isn't generally known, but they -developed the op fastener for evening wear, two of the new scents on -the roster come from Damorlan, and the snettis is an adaptation of a -Damorlant original. Would you want a species as artistic as that to be -annihilated by an epidemic?" - -"Do our germs work on them?" Clarey wanted to know. - -"That hasn't been established yet. But their germs certainly work -on us." The general sneezed again. "That's where I got this sinus -trouble, last voyage to Damorlan. But you'll be inoculated, of course. -Now we know what to watch out for, so you'll be perfectly safe. That -is, as far as disease is concerned." - - * * * * * - -His face assumed a stern, noble aspect. "Naturally, if you're -discovered as a spy, we'll have to repudiate you. You must know that -from the tri-dis." - -"But I haven't said I would go!" Clarey howled. "And I can't see why -you'd want _me_, anyway!" - -"Modest," the general said, lighting a smoke-stick. "An admirable -trait in a young intelligence operative--or, indeed, anyone. Have a -smoke-stick?" - -Clarey hesitated. He had never tried one; he had always wanted to. - -"Don't, Clarey," the girl advised. "You'll be sick." - -She spoke with authority and reason. Clarey shook his head. - -The general inhaled and exhaled a cloud of smoke in the shape of a -bunnit. "The Damorlanti look like us, but because they look like us, -that doesn't mean they think like us. They may not have the least idea -of developing space travel, simply be interested in developing thought, -art, ideals, splendid cultural things like that. We don't know enough -about them; we may be making mountains out of molehills." - -"Martian molehills," Clarey snickered. - -"Precisely," the general agreed. "Except that there are no moles on -Mars either." - -"But I still can't understand. Why _me_?" - -The general leaned forward and said in a confidential tone, "We want -to understand the true Damorlan. Our observations have been too -superficial; couldn't help being. There we come, blasting out of the -skies with the devil of a noise, running all over the planet as if we -owned it. You know how those skyboys throw their gravity around." - -Clarey nodded. _Sentries of the Sky_ had kept him well informed on such -matters. - -"So what we want is a man who can go to Damorlan for five or ten years -and become a Damorlant in everything but basic loyalties. A man who -will absorb the very spirit of the culture, but in terms our machines -can understand and interpret." Spano stood erect. "You, Clarey, are -that man!" - -The girl applauded. "Well done, Steff! You finally got it right side -up!" - -"But I've lived twenty-eight years on this planet and I'm not a part -of its culture," Clarey protested. "I'm a lonely, friendless man--you -must know that if you've deep-probed me--so why should I put up a front -and be brave and proud about it?" - - * * * * * - -Then he gave a short, bitter laugh. "I see. That's the reason you want -me. I have no roots, no ties; I belong nowhere. Nobody loves me. Who -else, you think, but a man like me would spend ten years on an alien -planet as an alien?" - -"A patriot, Sub-Archivist," the general said sternly. "By God, sir, a -patriot!" - -"There's nothing I'd like better than to see Terra and all its colonies -go up in smoke. Mind you," Clarey added quickly, for he was not as -drunk as all that, "I've nothing against the government. It's a purely -personal grievance." - -The general unsteadily patted his arm. "You're detached, m'boy. You can -examine an alien planet objectively, without trying to project your own -cultural identity upon it, because you have no cultural identity." - -"How about physical identity?" Clarey asked. "They can't be ex-exactly -like us. Against the laws of nature." - -"The laws of man are higher than the laws of nature," the general said, -waving his arm. A gout of smoke curled around his head and became a -halo. "Very slight matter of plastic surgery. And we'll change you -back as soon as you return." Then he sat down heavily. "How many young -men in your position get an opportunity like this? Permanent U-E -status, a hundred thousand credits a year and, of course, on Damorlan -you'd be on an expense account; our money's no good there. By the time -you got back, there'd be about a million and a half waiting for you, -with interest. You could buy all the instruments and tape all the music -you wanted. And, if the Musicians' Guild puts up a fuss, you could buy -it, too. Don't let anybody kid you about the wheel, son; money was -mankind's first significant invention." - -"But ten years. That's a long time away from home." - -"Home is where the heart is, and you wanting to see your own planet -go up in a puff of smoke--why, even an ilf wouldn't say a thing like -that!" Spano shook his head. "That's too detached for me to understand. -You'll find the years will pass quickly on Damorlan. You'll have -stimulating work to do; every moment will be a challenge. When it's -all over, you'll be only thirty-eight--the very prime of life. You -won't have aged even that much, because you'll be entitled to longevity -treatments at regular intervals. - -"So think it over, m'boy." He rose waveringly and clapped Clarey on -the shoulder. "And take the rest of the afternoon off; I'll fix it -with Archives. We wouldn't want you coming back from Classification -intoxicated." He winked. "Make a very bad impression on your -co-workers." - -Han masked herself and escorted Clarey to the restaurant portway. -"Don't believe everything he says. But I think you'd better accept the -offer." - -"I don't have to," Clarey said. - -"No," she agreed, "you don't. But you'd better." - - * * * * * - -Clarey took the cheap underground route home. His antiseptic little -two-room apartment seemed even bleaker than usual. He dialed a dyspep -pill from the auto-spensor; the lunch was beginning to tell on him. -And that evening he couldn't even take an interest in _Sentries of -the Sky_, which, though he'd never have admitted it, was his favorite -program. He had no friends; nobody would miss him if he left Earth or -died or anything. The general's right, he thought; I might as well -be an alien on an alien planet. At least I'll be paid better. And he -wondered whether, in lighter gravity, his spirits might not get a lift. - -He dragged himself to work the next day. He found someone did care -after all. "Well, Sub-Archivist Clarey," Chief Section Archivist -MacFingal snarled, "I would have expected to see more sparkle in your -eye, more pep in your step, after a whole day of nothing but sweet -rest." - -"But--but General Spano said it would be all right if I didn't report -back in the afternoon." - -"Oh, it is all right, Sub-Archivist, no question of that. How could I -dare to complain about a man who has such powerful friends? I suppose -if I gave you the Sagittarius files to reorganize, you'd go running to -your friend General Spano, sniveling about cruel and unfair treatment." - -So Clarey started reorganizing the Sagittarius files--a sickeningly -dull task which should by rights have gone to a junior archivist. All -morning he couldn't help thinking about Damorlan--its invigorating -atmosphere, its pleasant climate, its presumed absence of archives and -archivists. During his lunchstop he looked up the planet in the files. -There was only a small part of a tape on it. There might be more in -the Classified Files. It was, of course, forbidden to view secretapes -without a direct order from the Chief Archivist, but the tapes were -locked by the same code as the rare editions. After all, he told -himself, I have a legitimate need for the information. - -So he punched for Damorlan in the secret files. He put the tape in the -viewer. He saw the natives. Cold shock filled him, and then hot fury. -They were humanoid all right--pallid, pale-haired creatures. Objective -viewpoint, he thought furiously; detachment be damned! I was picked -_because I look like one of them_! - -He was wrenched away from the viewer. "Sub-Archivist Clarey, what is -the meaning of this?" Chief Section Archivist MacFingal demanded. "You -know what taking a secretape out without permission means?" - -Clarey knew. The reorientation machine. "Ask General Spano," he said in -a constricted voice. "He'll tell you it's all right." - - * * * * * - -General Spano said that it was, indeed, all right. "I'm so glad to hear -you've decided to join us. Splendid career for an enterprising young -man. Smoke-stick?" - -Clarey refused; he no longer had any interest in trying one. - -"Don't look so grim," Spano said jovially. "You'll like the Damorlanti -once you get to know them. Very affectionate people. Haven't had any -major wars for several generations. Currently there are just a few -skirmishes at the poles and you ought to be able to keep away from -those easily. And they'll simply love you." - -"But I don't like anyone," Clarey said. "And I don't see why the -Damorlanti should like me," he added fairly. - -"I'll tell you why! Because it'll be your job to _make_ them like you. -You've got to be friendly and outgoing if it kills you. Anyone can -develop a winning personality if he sets his mind to it. I though you -said you watched the tri-dis!" - -"I--I don't always watch the commercials," Clarey admitted. - -"Oh, well, we all have our little failings." Spano leaned forward, -his voice now pitched to persuasive decibels. "Normally, of course, -you wouldn't stoop to hypocrisy to gain friends, and quite right, -too--people should accept you as you are or they wouldn't be worthy -of becoming your friends. But this is different. You have to be what -they want, because you want something from them. You'll have to suffer -rebuffs and humiliations and never show resentment." - -"In other words," Clarey said, "a secret agent is supposed to forget -all about such concepts as self-respect." - -"If necessary, yes. But here self-respect doesn't enter into it. These -aren't people and they don't really matter. You wouldn't be humiliated, -would you, if you tried to pat a dog and it snarled at you?" - -"Steff, he's got to think of them as people until he's definitely given -them a clean bill of health," Han Vollard protested. "Otherwise, the -whole thing won't work." - -"Well," the general temporized, "think of them as people, then, but as -inferior people. Let them snoop and pry and sneer. Always, at the back -of your mind, you'll have the knowledge that this is all a sham, that -someday they'll get whatever it is they deserve. You might even think -of it as a game, Clarey--no more personal than when you fail to get the -gardip ball into the loop." - -"I don't happen to play gardip, General," Clarey reminded him coldly. -Gardip was strictly a U-E pastime. And, in any case, Clarey was not a -gamesman. - -He was put through intensive indoctrination, given accelerated courses -in the total secret agent curriculum: Self-Defense and Electronics, -Decoding and Resourcefulness, Xenopsychology and Acting. - -"There are eight cardinal rules of acting," the robocoach told him. -"The first is: Never Identify. You'll never be able to become the -character you're playing, because you aren't that character--the -playwright gave birth to him, not your mother. Therefore--" - -"But I'm only going to play one role," Clarey broke in. "All I need to -know is how to play that role well and convincingly. My life may depend -on it." - -"I teach acting," the robocoach said loftily. "I don't run a charm -school. If you come to me, you learn--or, at least, are exposed to--all -I have to offer. I refuse to tailor my art to any occasional need. Now, -the second cardinal rule...." - - * * * * * - -Clarey was glad he could absorb the languages and social structure -of the planet through the impersonal hypno-tapes. He had to learn -more than one language because the planet was divided into several -national units, each speaking a different tongue. Inefficient as far as -planetary operation went, but advantageous to him, Han Vollard pointed -out, because, though he'd work in Vangtor, he would be supposed to have -originated in Ventimor; hence his accent. - -"Work?" Clarey asked. "I thought I was going to be an undercover agent." - -"You'll have a cover job," she explained wearily. "You can't just -wander around with no visible source of income, unless you're a member -of the nobility, and it would be risky to elevate you to the peerage." - -"What kind of a job will I have?" Clarey asked, brightening a little at -the idea of possibly having something interesting to do. - -"They call it _librarian_. I'm not exactly sure what it is, but -Colonel Blynn--he's our chief officer on the planet--says that after -indoctrination you ought to be able to handle it." - -Clarey already knew that jobs on Damorlan weren't officially assigned, -but that employer and employee somehow managed to find each other -and work out arrangements themselves. Sometimes, Han now explained, -employers would advertise for employees. Colonel Blynn had answered -such a job in Vangtor on his behalf from an accommodation address in -Ventimor. "You were hired sight unseen, because you came cheap. So they -probably won't check your references. Let's hope not, anyway." - - * * * * * - -The trip to Damorlan was one long aching agony. Since luxury liners -naturally didn't touch on Damorlan, he was sent out on a service -freighter, built for maximum stowage rather than comfort. Most of the -time he was spacesick. The only thing that comforted him was that it -would be ten years before he'd have to go back. - -They landed on the Earthmen's spaceport--the only spaceport, of -course--at Barshwat, and he was hustled off to Earth Headquarters in -an animal-drawn cart that made him realize there were other ailments -besides spacesickness. - -"Afraid you're going to have to hole up in my suite while you're with -us," Colonel Blynn apologized when Clarey was safely inside. "The -rest of the establishment is crawling with native servants--daytimes, -anyway; they sleep out--but they have orders never to come near my -quarters." - -He looked interestedly at Clarey. "Amazing how the plastosurgeons got -you to look exactly like a native. Those boys really know their stuff. -Maybe I _will_ have my nose fixed next time I go Earthside." - -Clarey glared venomously at the tall, handsome, dark young officer. - -"Don't worry," Blynn soothed him. "I'm sure when you go back they'll be -able to make you look exactly the way you were before." - -He gave Clarey a general briefing and explained to him that the -additional allowance he'd be receiving--since he couldn't be expected -to live on a Damorlant salary--would come from an alleged rich aunt in -Barshwat. - -"Where'll you get the native currency?" Clarey asked. - -"We do some restricted trading with the natives, bring materials -that're in short supply; salt, breakfast cereals, pigments, -thread--stuff like that. Nothing strategic, nothing they could possibly -use against us ... unless they decide to strangle us with our own -string." He guffawed ear-splittingly. - - * * * * * - -One rainy evening a couple of Earth officers hustled Clarey into a -hax-cart. A little later, equipped with a native kit, an itinerary, and -a ticket purchased in Ventimor, he was left a short distance from a -large track-car station. - -He was so numb with fright he had to force himself to move in the right -direction leg by leg. He gained a little confidence when he was able to -find the terminus without needing to ask directions; he even managed -to find the right chain of cars and a place to sit in one of them. -He didn't realize that this was something of an achievement until he -discovered that certain later arrivals had to stand. He wondered why -more tickets were issued than there were seats available, then realized -the answer was simple--primitives couldn't count very accurately. - -Creakily and slowly, the chain got under way. Clarey's terror mounted. -Here he was, wearing strange clothes, on a strange world, surrounded by -strange creatures. They aren't really repulsive, he told himself; they -look like people; they look like me. - -Some of the natives seemed to be staring at him. His heart began to -beat loudly. Could they hear it? Did their hearts beat the same way? -Was their hearing more acute than his? The tapes had seemed so full of -information; now he saw how full of holes they'd been. Then he noticed -that the natives were staring at each other. His heart quieted. Only -a local custom. After a while, little conversational groups formed. -No one spoke to him, for he spoke to no one. He was not yet ready to -thrust himself upon them; he had enough to do to reach his destination -successfully. - -He tried to follow the conversations for practice and to keep his mind -off his fears. The male next to him was talking to the male opposite -about the weather and its effect on the sirtles. The three females on -his other side were telling each other how their respective offspring -were doing in school. Some voices he couldn't identify with owners were -complaining how much sagor and titulwirt cost these days. I don't know -why the government is so worried, he thought; they're not really very -human at all. - -The chain had been scheduled to reach the end of its run in three -hours. It took closer to five. He got off at what would have been -around midnight on Earth, and the terminus where he was supposed to -take the next chain was almost empty of people, completely empty of -cars. Although it was still a few minutes before his car was due, he -was worried. Finally, he approached a native. - -"Is this--is this not where the 39:12 to Zrig is destined to appear?" -he asked, conscious as he uttered Vangtort aloud for the first time -that his phrasing was not entirely colloquial. - -The native stared at him with small pale eyes and bit his middle -finger. "Stranger, eh?" he asked in a small pale voice. - -"Yes." The native waited. "I come from Ventimor," Clarey told him. Nosy -native, he thought furiously; prying primitive. - -"You don't hafta shout," the native said. "I'm not deef." - -Clarey realized what he hadn't noted consciously before--the natives -spoke much more softly than Earthmen. Local custom two. - -"You'll be finding things a lot different here in Vangtor," the native -told him. "Livelier, more up to date. F'rinstance, do the cars always -run on time in Ventimor?" - -"Yes," Clarey said firmly. - -"Well, they don't here. Know why? That's because we've got more'n one -chain of 'em." He made a noise like a wounded turshi. He was laughing. - - * * * * * - -Clarey smiled until his gums ached. "About the 39:12? It is rather -important to me, as I understand the next chain does not leave for -several days." - -The native lifted a chronometer hanging around his neck. "Ought to get -in around 40 or so," he said. "Whyn't you get yourself a female or a -bite to eat?" He waved his hand toward the two trade booths that were -still open for business. - -Clarey was very hungry. But, as he got near the food booth, the stench -and the sight of the utensils were too much for him. He went back to -the carways and sat huddled on a banquette until his chain came in at -40:91. - -The car he picked was empty, so he stretched out on the seat and slept -until it got to Zrig, very early in the morning. When he got out, -day was dawning and a food booth hadn't had time to accumulate odors -so he climbed to one of the perches and pointed to something that -looked like a lopsided pie and something else that looked like coffee. -Neither was what it appeared to be, but the pseudo-pie was edible and -the pseudo-coffee was good. Somehow, the food seemed to diminish his -fright; it made the world less strange. - -"Where you going, stranger?" the native asked, resting his arms on the -top of the booth. - -"Katund," Clarey said. The other looked puzzled. "It is a village near -Zrig." - -"That a fact?" The native bit his little finger. "You look like a city -feller to me." - -"That is correct," Clarey said patiently. "I come from Qytet. It is a -place of some size." He waited a decent interval before collapsing his -smile. - -"Now, why would a smart-looking young fellow like you want to go to a -place like this Katund, eh?" - -Clarey started to shrug, then remembered that was not a Damorlant -gesture. "I have received employment there." - -"I should think you'd be able to do better'n that." The native nibbled -at his thumb. "What did you say you worked at?" - -"I didn't. I am a librarian." - -The native turned away and began to rinse his utensils. "In that case, -I guess Katund's as good a place as any." - -Surely, Clarey thought, even a Damorlant would at this point rise up -and smite the food merchant with one of his own platters. Then he -forgot his anger in apprehension. What in the name of whatever gods -they worshipped on this planet could a librarian possibly be? - -He got up and was about to go. Then he remembered to be friendly and -outgoing. "I have never tasted better food," he told the native. "Not -even in Barshwat." - -The native picked up the coin Clarey had left by way of tip and bit it. -Apparently it passed the test. "Stop here next time you're passing this -way," he advised, "and I'll really serve you something to write home -about!" - - * * * * * - -The omnibus for Katund proved to be nothing but a large cart drawn by a -team of hax. Clarey waited for internal manifestations as he rode. None -came. I've found my land legs, he thought, or, rather, my land stomach. -And with the hax jogging along the quiet lanes of Vangtor, he found -himself almost at peace. - -Earth was completely urbanized: there were the great metropolises; -there were the parks; there were the oceans. That was all. So to him -the Vangtort countryside looked like a huge park, with grass and trees -and flowers that were slightly unrealistic in color, but beautiful just -the same--even more, perhaps. It was idyllic. There's bound to be some -catch, he thought. - -The other passengers, who'd been talking together in low tones, turned -toward Clarey. "You'll be the new librarian, I take it?" the tallest -observed. He was a bulky creature, wearing a rich but sober cloak that -came down to his ankles. - -For a moment Clarey couldn't understand him; the local dialect seemed -to thicken the words. "Why, yes. How did you know that?" - -The native wiggled his ears. "Not many folks come to Katund and a new -librarian's expected, so it wasn't hard to figure. Except you don't -look my idea of a librarian." - -Clarey nervously smoothed the dark red cloak that covered him from -shoulder to mid-calf. Was it too loud? Too quiet? Too short? - -"What give you the idea of comin' to Katund?" the oldest and smallest -of the three asked in a whistling voice. "It's no place anybody who -wasn't born here'd choose." - -"Most young fellers favor the city," the third--a barrel-shaped -individual--agreed. "I'd of gone there myself when I was a lad, if Dad -hadn't needed somebody to take over the Purple Furbush when he was -gone." - -"Maybe he's runnin' away," the ancient sibilated. "When I was a boy, -there was a feller from the city came here; turned out to be a thief." -All three stared at Clarey. - -"I--I replied to an advertisement in the Dordonec District Bulletin," -he said carefully. "I wished for a position that was peaceful and -quiet. I am recovering from an overset of the nervous system." - -The oldest one said, "That'd account for it right enough." - -Clarey gritted his teeth and beamed at them. - -"Typical idiot smile," the ancient whispered. "Noticed it myself right -off, but I didn't like to say." - -"Is it right to have a librarian that isn't all there?" the proprietor -of the Furbush asked. "Foreigner, too. I mean to say--the young ones -use him more'n most." - -"We've got to take what we can get," the biggest native said. "Katund's -funds are running mighty low." - -"What can you expect when you ballot yourself a salary raise every -year?" the old one whistled. The other two made animal noises. Clarey -must not jump; he must learn to laugh like a turshi if he hoped to be -the life of any Damorlant party. - - * * * * * - -The big one stood up as well as he could in the swaying cart. "Guess -I'd better introduce myself," he said, holding out a sturdily shod -foot. "I'm Malesor, headman of Katund. This is Piq; he deals in blots -and snarls. And Hanxi here's the inn-keeper." - -"My name is Balt," Clarey said. "I am honored by this meeting." And he -went through the conventional toe-touching with each one. - -"Guess you'll be putting up with me until you've found permanent -quarters, Til Balt," Hanxi said. "Not that you could do much better -than make your permanent home at the Purple Furbush. You'll find life -more comfortable than if you lodge with a private fam'ly. Bein' a young -unmarried man--" he twisted his nose suggestively--"you'd naturally -want a bit of freedom, excitement." - -"Remember he's a librarian," Piq whistled. "He might not appreciate as -good a time as most young fellers." - -Clarey was glad when a cluster of domes appearing over the horizon -indicated that they'd reached Katund. He looked about him curiously. -The countryside he'd been able to equate with a park, but this small -aggregate of detached dwellings bore no relationship to anything in his -experience. - -His kit was dexterously removed from his hand. "Guess you'll want to -check in first," Hanxi said, "so I'll just take your gear over to the -inn for you." - -He pointed out a small dome shading from lavender at the bottom to rose -pink on top. Over the door were glittering symbols which Clarey was -able to decipher after a moment's concentration as "Dordonec District -Public Library--Katund Branch," and underneath, in smaller letters, -"Please Blow Nose Before Entering." - -Hesitantly, he touched the screen that covered the portway. It rolled -back. He went inside. - -At his first sight of what filled the shelves from floor to topmost -curve of the dome, Clarey became charged with fury. The ancient -books in the glass cases back on Earth were of a different shape and -substance, but, "My God," he cried aloud, "it's nothing but another -archive!" - -The female in charge glared at him. "Silence, please!" - -Suddenly the anger left him, and the fear. He was no longer a stranger -on a strange world. He was an archivist in an archive. - -She took a better look at him and the local equivalent of a bright -smile shone on her face. "May I help you, til?" she asked in a softer, -sweeter voice. - -"I am Balt, til," he said. "I am the new librarian." - -She came out from behind the desk to offer the ceremonial toe touch. -"I'm Embelsira, the head librarian, and I am very glad to see you!" Her -tone was warm; she really seemed to mean it. "Everything's in such a -mess," she went on. "I've needed help so very badly, so very long." She -looked up at him, for she was a good deal shorter than he. "So glad," -she murmured, "so very, very glad to see you, really." - -"Well, now you have help," he said with quiet strength. "Where are the -files?" - -They were written instead of punched, of alien design, in an alien -language, arranged according to alien patterns, but he understood them -at a glance. "These will need to be re-organized from top to bottom," -he said. - -"Yes, Til Balt," she said demurely. "Whatever you say." - - * * * * * - -Once every six months, Clarey went for a long weekend to visit -his "Aunt Askidush" in Barshwat. Barshwat was the largest city on -Damorlan; it was the capital of Vintnor--the greatest nation. Earthmen, -Clarey thought, as he traveled there in the comparative luxury of a -first-class compartment--as a rich nephew, he saw no real reason to -travel third-class--were disgustingly obvious. - -That first time, he was five hours late, and Blynn was a nervous -wreck. "I was afraid you'd been killed or discovered or God knows," he -babbled, practically embracing Clarey in a fervency of relief. "I was -afraid--" - -"Come, come, Colonel," Clarey interrupted, striding past him, "you know -how inefficient Damorlant transport is, and I had to make two chain -connections." - -"Of course," the colonel said, wiping the perspiration off his -forehead. "Of course. And you must be dead tired. Sit down; let me take -your cloak--" - -"How about the servants?" Clarey asked. - -"This is their weekend off." Blynn pulled himself together. "Really, my -dear fellow, I've been in this business longer than you. I know what -precautions to take." - -"Never can be too careful." - -"I see you've got yourself another cloak," the colonel said as he hung -it in the guest snap. "Very handsome. I've never seen one like it." - -"Yes. As a matter of fact, several people on the chains wanted to know -where I'd got it." - -"Where _did_ you get it?" asked Blynn, feeling the material. "Might go -well as an export." - -"Afraid it couldn't be exported. It's a custom job, you see. -Hand-woven, hand-decorated. It was a birthday present." - -The colonel stared at him. - -"Well," Clarey said, "if you didn't expect me to get birthday presents, -you shouldn't have put a birth date on my identity papers. My boss -baked me a melxhane--" - -"Your boss!" - -"The relationship between employer and employee is much different -from the way it is on Earth," Clarey explained. Reaching over, he -flipped the switch on the recorder and repeated the statement, adding, -"Embelsira is kind, considerate, helpful; she can't do enough for me." -He put his mouth close to the mechanism. "Be sure to tell MacFingal -that." - -"Now, now," the colonel said, turning the switch off. He pushed a small -tea wagon over to Clarey. "You must be starving. Have some sandwiches -and coffee. I'm sure you'll be glad to taste good Earth food again." - -"Yes, indeed," Clarey said, trying not to make a face. "Er--shouldn't -we start recording while everything's fresh in my mind?" - -"Might as well," the colonel said, flipping the switch again. "Pity we -don't have a probe here. Would save so much time. But, of course, it's -an expensive installation. All right, Clarey, over to you." - - * * * * * - -Clarey choked on a mouthful of sandwich and hesitated. "Begin with your -very first impressions," the colonel urged. - -"Well, the archives--the library--was in a real mess. Took me over two -weeks to get it in even roughly decent shape. Three different systems -of classification and, added to that--" - -"Not so much the library, old chap. Leave the technical stuff for -later. What I meant was your first impressions of the natives.... -Is something wrong with the coffee? And you've hardly touched your -sandwich. Maybe you'd like another kind. I have several varieties -here--ham and cheese and--" - -"Oh, no," Clarey protested. "The one I have is fine. It's just that -I'm--well, to tell you the truth," he confessed, "I've grown accustomed -to Damorlant food." - -"Don't see how you could," the colonel said. "Nauseating stuff--to my -way of thinking," he added politely. He opened a sandwich and inspected -the filling. - -"You've only eaten at public places. Even the better restaurants don't -put themselves out for Earthmen, say they have no--palates, I guess the -word would be. But you ought to taste my landlady's cooking!" - -"All this is being taped, you know. They'll have to listen to every -word on Earth." - -"If only I could convey the true picture through words. Her ragouts -are rhapsodies, her soufflés symphonies--I'm using rough Terrestrial -equivalents, of course--" - -"The cuisine comes later, please. Over-all impressions first." - -"Well," Clarey began again, "at first I was a bit surprised that -you'd stuck me in a quarter-credit place like Katund. Naturally in a -village the people'd be more backward than in the cities, so you'd -have a poorer idea of how they were developing. Then I realized that -you couldn't help putting me there, that you probably couldn't write a -letter good enough to get me a job in any of the big centers. Embelsira -said she was surprised to find me so much more literate than she would -have expected from the letter." - -The colonel sat erect huffily. "I've never pretended to be a -philologist. And, anyway, Damorlan isn't like Earth. Here the heartbeat -of the planet is in its villages." - -"Earth hasn't any villages, so the comparison doesn't apply." Clarey -cleared his throat. "Don't you have anything to drink except coffee?" - -"Tea?" - -"That would be better. Do you know the Katundi have a special variety -of tea, or something very like it, which is--" - -"Tell me what they think of Earthmen," the colonel interrupted -desperately. - -"Not much. What I mean is, nobody in Katund's actually had any contact -with them, though they've heard of them, of course. Every now and then -there's a little article in the Dordonec Bulletin from their Barshwat -correspondent, and sometimes, if there isn't any real news, he gives a -couple of inches to the Earthmen." - -"Exactly how do they regard us?" the colonel asked as he spooned tea -into the pot. "Demi-gods? Superior beings? Are they in great awe of us?" - -"They regard us as visitors from another planet," Clarey said. "They -don't realize from quite how far away we hail, think it's only a matter -of a solar system or two, but they've got the general idea. Don't -forget, they may not be a mechanical people, but they do have some idea -of astronomy. They're not illiterate clods." - -"What do they think of our spaceships? Great silver birds, something -like that?" - - * * * * * - -Sighing deeply, Clarey said, "They think our spaceships are cars that -fly through the sky without tracks. And they think it's silly, our -having machines to fly in the sky and none to go on the ground. There's -an old Dordonec proverb: 'One must run before one must fly.' Originally -applied to birds, but--" - -"But what else do they think about us?" - -Clarey was hurt. "That's what I was getting to, if you'll only give me -time. After all, I've been speaking Vangtort for six months and it's a -little hard to go back to Terran and organize my thoughts at the same -time." - -"Terribly sorry," the colonel apologized, handing him a cup of tea. -"Carry on." - -"Thank you. They say if you--if we--are so smart, why do we use hax or -the chains like anybody else? They think somebody else must have given -us the starships, or else we stole them. That's mostly Piq's idea; he's -the village lawyer and, of course, lawyers are apt to think in terms -like that." - -"Um," the colonel said. "We didn't think it would be a good idea to -introduce ground cars. Upset their traffic and cause dissatisfied -yearnings." - -"They're satisfied with their hax carts. They're not in any hurry to -get anywhere. But Katund's a village. Attitudes may be different in the -cities." - -"You stick with your village, old chap. If you feel a wild urge for -city life, you can always take a weekend trip to Zrig. Stay at the Zrig -Grasht; it's the only decent inn. By the way, you spoke of a landlady. -Do you mean at the inn?" - -No, Clarey told him, at first he had put up at the inn, but he found -the place noisy, the cooking poor, and the pallet covers dirty. -Besides, Hanxi had kept importuning him to go on visits to a nearby -township where he promised him a good time. - -"I was wondering, though," Clarey finished, "if it would be possible -for an Earthman and a Damorlant to--er--have a good time together." - -"Been wondering myself!" the colonel said eagerly. "I didn't dare ask -on my own behalf, but it's your job, isn't it? I'll check back with the -X-T boys on Earth. Go on with your story." - - * * * * * - -As a resident of the inn, Clarey told Colonel Blynn, he'd found that -he was expected to join the men in the bar parlor every evening, where -they'd drink and exchange appropriate stories. But he'd choked on the -squfur and was insufficiently familiar with the local mores to be able -to appreciate the stories, let alone tell any. He'd concentrated on -smiling and agreeing with whatever anybody said, with the result that -the others began to agree with Piq that he was a bit cracked. "They -were, for the most part, polite enough to me, but I could sense the -gulf. I was a stranger, a city man, and probably a bit of a lunatic." - -A few of the younger ones hadn't even been polite. "They used to insult -me obliquely," Clarey went on, "and whisper things I only half-heard. I -pretended I didn't hear at all. I stood them drinks and told them what -a lovely place Katund was, so much cleaner and prettier and friendlier -than the city. That just seemed to confirm their impression that I was -an idiot." - -He stopped, took a sip of tea, and continued, "The females were -friendly enough, though. Every time they came into the library they'd -always stop for a chat. And they were very hospitable--invited -me to outdoor luncheons, temple gatherings, things like that. -Embelsira--she's the chief librarian--got quite annoyed because she -said they made so much noise when they all gathered round my desk." - -He paused and blushed. "I have an idea that--well, the ladies don't -find me unattractive. I mean they're not really ladies. That is, -they're perfect ladies; they're just not women." - -"I'm not a bit surprised," the colonel nodded sagely. "Very well-set-up -young fellow for a native--only natural they should take a liking to -you. And only natural the men shouldn't." - -Clarey gave an embarrassed grin. "One evening I was sitting in the -bar-parlor, talking to Kuqal and Gazmor, two of the older men. And then -Mundes came in; he's the town muscle boy. You know the type--one in -every tri-di series. He was rather unpleasant. I pretended to think he -was joking. I've learned to laugh like one of them. Listen." He gave a -creditable imitation of an agonized turshi. - - * * * * * - -The colonel shuddered. "I'm sure if anything would convince the chaps -back on Earth that the Damorlanti aren't human, that would do it. What -then?" - -"Finally he made a remark impugning the virility of librarians that I -simply could not ignore, so I emptied my mug of squfur in his face." - -"Stout fellow!" - -"I knew he'd attack me and probably beat me up, but I thought that -perhaps if I put up a show of courage they'd respect me. There was -something like that in _Sentries of the Sky_ a year or so ago--but of -course you'd have missed that episode; you were up here. Anyhow, as I -expected, he hit me. And then I hit him...." He smiled reminiscently -into his cup of tea. - -"And then?" - -"I beat him," Clarey said simply. "I still can't figure out how I did -it. I think it must be because my muscles are heavier-gravity type." He -smiled again. "And I beat him good. He couldn't dance at the temple for -weeks." - -The colonel's jaw dropped. "He's a temple dancer?" - -"Chief temple dancer. I was a little worried about that, because I -didn't want to get in bad theologically. So I went to the priest and -apologized for any inconvenience I might have caused. He said not to -worry; Mundes had had it coming to him for a long time and his one -regret was that he hadn't been there to see it. Then we touched toes -and he said he liked to see a young fellow with brawn who also took -an interest in cultural pursuits like reading. He trusted I'd have a -beneficial effect on the youth of the village. And then he asked me to -fill in for Mundes as chief temple dancer until he--ah--recovered. It's -a great honor, you know!" he said sharply, as the colonel seemed more -moved to mirth than awe. "But I've never been much of a dancing man and -that's what I told him." - -"Very well done," the colonel said approvingly. "But you still haven't -explained where you got lodgings and a landlady." - -"She's Embelsira's mother. I was invited over for dinner from time -to time.... It's a local custom," he explained as Blynn's eyebrows -went up. "So, when Embelsira told me her mother happened to have a -compartment to let with meals included, I jumped at it. Blynn, you -really ought to taste those pastries of hers!" - -The colonel managed to divert him onto some of the other aspects of -Katundut life. When he'd finished taping everything he had to say, the -colonel gave him a list of artifacts and small-sized flora and fauna -the specialists on Earth wanted him to collect for his next trip, -providing he could do so without arousing attention or violating tabus. - -They shook hands. "Clarey," the colonel said, "you've done splendidly. -Earth will be proud of you. And you might bring along one or two of -those pastries, by the way." - - * * * * * - -When Clarey got back to Katund, Embelsira and her mother gave a little -welcome home party for him. "Nothing elaborate," the widow said. "Just -a few neighbors and friends, some simple refreshments." - -The tiny residential dome was packed with people; the refreshments, -Clarey thought, as he munched industriously, were magnificent. But -then he'd been forced to live on Earth food for a weekend, so he was no -judge. - -After they'd finished eating, the young people folded the furniture, -and, while one of the boys played upon a curious instrument that was -string and percussion and brass all at once, the others danced. - -Clarey made no attempt to participate. In his early youth, he'd flopped -at the Earth hops--and the Damorlanti had a distinctly more Dionysian -culture than his home world. He stood and watched them leaping and -twirling. When they'd dropped, temporarily exhausted, he made his way -over to the musician, whom he recognized as one of Piq's numerous -grandsons; this one was Rini, he thought. - -"Is that difficult to learn?" he asked, touching the instrument. - -"The ulerin is extremely difficult," the boy said importantly. "It -takes years and years of practice. And you've got to have the touch to -begin with. Not many do. All our family have the touch, my brother Irik -most of all. He's in Barshwat, studying to be a famous musician." - -Clarey looked at the ulerin with unmistakable wistfulness. - -"Care to try it?" the boy asked. "But, mind, you have to pay for any -bladders you burst." - -"I shall be very careful," Clarey said, taking the instrument -reverently in his hands. He had never touched a musical instrument -before--an Earth instrument would have been no less unfamiliar, no more -wonderful. Gently he began to pluck and bang and blow, in imitation of -the way the boy had done, and, though the sounds that came out didn't -have the same smoothness, still they didn't fall harshly on his ears. -The others stopped talking and listened; it would have been difficult -for them to do otherwise, as he was unable to find the muting device. - -"Sounds like the death wail of a hix," Piq sibilated, but he added -grudgingly, "Foreigner or not, I have to say this for him--he's got the -touch." - -"Yes, he's got the touch," others agreed. "You always can tell." - -Rini smiled at Clarey. "I believe you do. I'll teach you to play, if -you like." - -"I would, very much." Clarey was about to offer to pay for the lessons; -then he remembered that, though this would have been the right thing -on Earth, it would be wrong on Damorlan. "If it is not too much -trouble," he finished. - -"It's the kind of trouble I like." The boy twisted his nose at Clarey. -"Sometime you can hide the reserved books for me." - - * * * * * - -After the guests had gone, Clarey insisted on helping the women with -the putting away. "Well, as long as Embelsira has a pair of brawny arms -to help her," the widow yawned, "I might as well be getting along to -my pallet. I seem to get more and more tired these days--old age, I -expect. One day I'll be so tired I'll never wake up and Embelsira'll -be alone and what'll she do, poor thing? Who can live on a librarian's -salary? Now, on two librarians' salaries--" - -"Mother," Embelsira interrupted furiously, "you go to bed!" - -She did, hurriedly. - -"Don't worry, Embelsira," Clarey said. "She will be weaving away for -decades yet. Everybody says she's the best weaver in the district," he -added, to change the subject. - -"Yes," Embelsira said as they gathered all the oddments the guests had -left, "she's been offered a lot of money to go work in Zrig. But she -won't leave Katund; she was born here, and so were her parents." - -"I do not blame her for wanting to stay," he said. "It's a -very--homelike place." - -She sighed. "To us it is, but I don't suppose someone who's city born -and bred would feel the same way. I know you won't let yourself stay -buried here forever, and what will I--what will Mother and I ever do -without you?" - -"It is--very kind of you to say so," he replied. "I am honored." - -The girl--she was still young enough to be called a girl, though -no longer in her first youth--looked up at him. Blue eyes could be -pleasing in their way. "Why are you always so stiff, so cold?" - -"I am not cold," he said honestly. "I am--afraid." - -"There is nothing to be afraid of. You're safe, among friends, no -matter what you may have done back where you came from." - -"But I have done nothing back there," he said. "Nothing at all. Perhaps -that is the trouble with me." - -She looked up at him and then away. "Then isn't it about time you -started to do something?" - - * * * * * - -The next time he went to Barshwat he took a lot of luggage with him, -because, besides the artifacts and the flora and fauna, he brought -cold pastries for the colonel. The colonel ate one in silence, then -said, "Try to get the recipe." - -"By the way," said Clarey, "the X-T boys made a few mistakes. The bugg -isn't an insect; it's a bird. And the lule isn't a bird; it's a flower. -And the paparun isn't a flower; it's an insect." - -"Oh, well, I guess they'll be able to straighten that out," the colonel -said, licking crumbs from his thick fingers. "We do our jobs and they -do theirs." He reached for another pastry. - -"Take good care of the bugg," Clarey said. "He likes his morning seed -mixed with milk; his evening seed with wine. His name is Mirti. He's -very tame and affectionate. I--said I was bringing him to my aunt...." -He paused. "You _are_ going to take him back alive, aren't you? You'd -get so much more information that way." - -"Wouldn't dream of hurting a hair--a feather--no, it is a hair, isn't -it?--of the little fellow's head." - -Clarey looked out of the window at the purple night sky. Then he -turned back to the colonel. "I've been taking music lessons," he said -defiantly. - -"Fine! Every man should have a hobby!" - -"But I've no music license." - -"Come now, Clarey. You still don't seem to realize you're on Damorlan, -not Earth. Not a blooded intelligence man yet! There aren't any guilds -on Damorlan, so enjoy yourself." - -"Speaking of that, did you find out about--er--Earthmen and--" - -"Yes, I'd meant to drop you a note, but it seemed rather odd -information for your aunt to be giving you. It's absolutely all right, -old chap. Go ahead, have your bit of fun." - -Clarey was unreasonably annoyed. "I wasn't thinking of what you're -thinking. I mean--well, Katund is a village and the native morality is -very strict in these matters." - -"Afraid I don't quite follow you." - -Clarey bit his finger. "Well," he finally admitted, "the truth of the -matter is I'd like to get married." - -The colonel was extremely surprised. "A legal arrangement! Is it -absolutely necessary? How about the females that the innkeeper's so -anxious to have you--ah--meet?" - - * * * * * - -Clarey didn't know how to explain. "Their standards of cleanliness...." -he began, and stopped. Then he started again: "I suppose I'd like a -permanent companion." - -"I don't suppose there's any real reason why you shouldn't enter into -a legal liaison while you're here," said the colonel. "After all, it -isn't as if the two races could interbreed. That could be decidedly -awkward. Who's the lucky little lady?" - -"My landlady's daughter," Clarey said. - -"Your boss, eh? Flying high, aren't you, old chap?" His massive hand -descended on Clarey's shoulder. Then he grew serious. "Can she cook -like her mother?" - -"Even better." - -"My boy," the colonel said solemnly, "you have my unqualified blessing. -And when I ask you to save me a piece of the wedding cake, I ask from -the heart." - -So, when Clarey went back to Katund, he asked Embelsira to marry him -and she accepted. The whole village turned out for the wedding. Clarey -managed to take some vocpix of the ceremonies for the X-Ts with a -finger unit. I ought to get a handsome wedding present for this, he -thought. - -And, to his surprise, on the wedding day, an elaborate jewel-studded -toilet service did arrive from Barshwat--with the affectionate regards -of his aunt, who was too ill to travel. They tie up everything, he -thought, but he knew it was a little more than simply remembering -to pick up a loose end. The toilet set was vulgar, ostentatious, -hideous--obviously selected with loving care and Terrestrial taste. - -Everybody in Katund and a lot of people from the surrounding country -came to look at it. It seemed to establish his eligibility beyond a -doubt. "Never thought 'Belsira'd do it, and at her age, too," Piq was -heard to comment. "But it looks like she really got herself a catch. -What's a little weakness in the dome-top when there's money, too?" - - * * * * * - -The first three years of Clarey's marriage were happy ones. He and -Embelsira got on very nicely together and, since he was fond of her -mother, he didn't mind her constant presence too much. Once a week -he took a ulerin lesson from Rini. He practiced assiduously and made -progress that he himself could see was sensational. He did wish that -Rini would accept money; it would have been so much less of a nuisance -than replacing the music books the boy stole from the library, but he -couldn't expect local customs to coincide with his own. The money, of -course, didn't matter; he still wasn't living up to his allowance, -although he was beginning to spread himself on elaborate custom-made -cloaks and tunics. On Earth he had dressed soberly, according to his -status, but here he felt entitled to cut a dash. - -At the colonel's request, on his next trip to Barshwat he brought his -ulerin and taped some native melodies. "I like 'em," the colonel said, -nodding his head emphatically. "Catchy, very catchy. Hope the X-Ts -appreciate them; they don't usually like music if it sounds at all -human." And, catching the look on Clarey's face, "Well, you know what I -mean. To them, if a tune can be hummed, it isn't authentic." - -News of Clarey's skill on the ulerin spread through the countryside. -When he played in the temple concerts, people sometimes came from as -far away as Zrig to hear him. Clarey was a little disturbed about this, -because he didn't subscribe to the local faith. But the high priest -said, "My son, music knows no religious boundaries. Besides, when you -play, we always get three times as much in the collection nets." - -At the time Clarey got word from Barshwat that General Spano and the -staff ship were expected shortly, he had risen to the post of chief -librarian. Embelsira had retired to keep dome and wait for the young -ones who would, of course, never come. Clarey had hired a hixhead of -an assistant from Zrig to assist him; he saw now why the village had -originally been grateful to get even a foreigner of doubtful background -for the job. - -"I'm going to have to stay at least a week with Aunt Askush this time," -he told his wife. "Legal matters. I think she's drawing up a will or -some such," he added, hoping that this would keep Embelsira happy and -convinced. - -Maybe it worked too well. "But why can't I come with you? I've always -wanted so much to meet her." - -"I keep telling you her illness is a disfiguring one; she won't meet -strangers. And don't say you're not a stranger--you'd understand, but -she's the one who wouldn't. Please don't nag me, Belsir." - -"Sometimes I think you're a stranger, Balt," Embelsira declared -emotionally. - -"Yes, dear, I'm a stranger, anything you say, but let me get packed." -He started folding a robe crookedly, hoping it would distract her into -taking over the job. - -But she leaned against the lintel, staring at him. "Balt, sometimes I -wonder if you really have an aunt." - -The only thing he allowed himself to do was put down the robe he was -holding. "Do you think I send expensive toilet sets to myself? You must -think Piq's right--I'm just plain crazy." - -"Piq doesn't think you're crazy any more. He and the other old ones say -you have a woman in Barshwat. But I don't believe that!" - -"Maybe I do, Embelsira. A man's a man, even if he is a librarian." - -"I know it isn't true. I think it's ... something else entirely. You're -so strange sometimes, Balt. How could somebody who comes only from the -other side of the same world be so strange?" - - * * * * * - -He forced a grin. "Suddenly you've become very cosmic. What do you know -of our--of the world? It's a big place. And nobody else in Katund seems -to be so impressed by my strangeness; they think a foreigner's entitled -to his queer ways." - -"Nobody in Katund knows you as well as I do. And I've seen foreigners -before. They're not different in the way you are." She looked intently -at him. "It's not a shameful kind of strangeness, just a ... strange -kind of strangeness. Fascinating in its way--I don't want you to think -I just married the first stranger who came along...." - -"I'm sure you had many offers, dear. Come, help me fold this cloak or -I'll never make the bus." - -"You know what I'm reminded of?" she said, coming forward and taking -the cloak. "Of the old tale about the lovely village maiden who marries -the handsome stranger and promises she'll never look into his eyes. And -then one day she forgets and looks into his eyes and sees--" - -"What does she see?" - -"The worst thing of all, the greatest horror. She sees nothing. She -sees emptiness." - -He laughed. "The moral's clear. She shouldn't have looked into his -eyes." - -"But how can you help looking into the eyes of the man you love? Maybe -that's the moral--that it was an impossible task he set her." - -"In those tales it's always the man's fault, isn't it? Not much doubt -who made them up. Now, Belsir, please, I've got to finish packing. -It'll be just my luck to have today be the day the bus to Zrig's on -time." - -"A couple of weeks ago I was in Zrig shopping and I saw an Earthman," -she said, folding his cloak into the kit. "The way he walked, the way -he moved, reminded me a little of you." - -It was a long moment before he could speak. "Do I look to you like a -dark-faced, dark-haired, brown-eyed--" - -"I didn't _say_ you were an Earthman! But if Earthmen can travel -through the sky, they might be able to do other things, too; maybe -even change the way a man looks." - -He snapped the kit-fastener. "If you really believe that, you should be -careful. Creatures as clever as that might be able to pluck your words -from my brain." - -"What if they did? I'm not ashamed. Or afraid, either." - -He reached out and patted her arm. Maybe she wasn't afraid, but he was. -For her. And for the people of Damorlan. If there was a deep-probe on -the staff ship.... If only something could happen to him, so he could -never reach Barshwat ... Spano wouldn't know. He might guess, but he -wouldn't know. He'd have to start all over again--and maybe things -would turn out better next time. - - * * * * * - -General Spano and his secretary were waiting in Blynn's office. Clarey -stretched out his foot in greeting, then recollected himself and -reached out his hand. "You see, sir," he said with a too-hearty laugh, -"I'm really living my part." - -Spano beamed. "Damorlan certainly seems to agree with you, my boy. You -look positively blooming. Doesn't he, Han?" - -She nodded grave agreement. - -The general sniffed. "What's that you two are smoking?" - -"Marac leaves," Clarey said. "A native product. Care to try one?" He -extended his pouch to Spano. - -"Don't mind if I do," the general said, taking a roll. "Which part do -you light? And why don't you offer one to Secretary Vollard?" - -"Oh, sorry; I didn't think of it. The women here don't use it. Care to -try one, Secretary?" As she took a roll, she looked at him searchingly. -She was still beautiful in an Amazonian way, but he preferred -Embelsira's way. He could never imagine Han Vollard warm and tender. - -"Well, Clarey," Spano said, "you seem to be doing a splendid job. I've -been absolutely enthralled by your reports." He settled himself behind -Blynn's desk. "Pity the information's top secret. It could make a -fortune on the tri-dis." - -Clarey bowed. - -"And those musictapes you sent back created quite a stir. We've brought -along some superior equipment. The rig here is good enough for routine -work, but we need better fidelity for this. And it would be appreciated -if the colonel didn't beat time with his foot while you played--no -offense, Blynn." - -He turned back to Clarey. "Do you think you can pick up some of those -what-do-you-call-'ems--ulerins--for us, too, or is there a tabu of -some kind?" - -"Not ulerins," Clarey corrected, "uleran. And you can walk up to any -marketplace and get as many as you like--providing you have the cash, -of course." - -"I _told_ you the job had musical overtones. I'll bet that makes up for -some of the discomforts and privations." - -"It's not too uncomfortable." - -"There speaks a true patriot!" Spano approved. - -Han measured Clarey with her eyes. "You're quiet, Secretary," he said -nervously. "You used to talk a lot more." - -Blynn stared at him. She smiled. "You're the one who has things to tell -now, Clarey." - -"And show," the general said, almost licking his lips. "Every one of -your tapes made my mouth fairly water. I trust you brought an ample and -varied supply of those delicacies." - -Clarey's smile was unforced this time. "I got your message and I -brought along a large hamperful, but it'll be hard to make the people -back home keep thinking my aunt's an invalid if she eats like a team of -hax. My wife baked some pastries, which I especially recommend to your -attention." - -"I think we ought to get business over before we start on -refreshments," Han suggested. - -"Yes," Spano agreed reluctantly. "I suppose you had better be -deep-probed first, Clarey.... Not even one taste beforehand, Han?... -Well, I suppose not." - -Clarey tensed. "You've got a probe on the ship?" he asked, as if the -possibility had never occurred to him. - -"That's right," Han Vollard said. "It's an up-to-date model. The whole -thing'll take you less than an hour, and we'll have the information -collated by morning." - -"I--I would prefer not to be deep-probed. You never can tell: it might -upset all the conditioning I've received here; it--" - -"Let us worry about that, Clarey," she said. - - * * * * * - -He didn't sleep that night. He sat looking out of the window, knowing -there was nothing he could do. Embelsira was in danger--her people were -in danger--and he couldn't lift a finger to save them. - -When he came down to breakfast, he saw that the reports had been -collated and read. "So your wife suspects, does she?" the general -asked. "Shrewd little creature. You must have picked one of the more -intelligent ones." - -Clarey struggled on the pin. "Wives often have strange fancies about -their husbands. You mustn't take it too seriously." - -"How often have you been married, Clarey?" Han asked. "Or even linked -in liaison? How many married people did you know well back on Earth?" - -There was no need to answer; she knew all the answers. - -"I think Clarey did a rattling good job," Blynn said stoutly. "It -wasn't his fault that she suspects." - -"Of course not!" the general agreed. "Feminine intuition isn't -restricted to human females. In fact, in some female ilfs it's even -stronger than in humans. The precognitive faculties in the grua, for -example--" - -"What are you going to do?" Clarey interrupted bluntly. - -Han Vollard answered him: "Nothing yet. You've got us a lot of -information, but it's not enough. You'll have to keep on as you are for -another three years or so." - -It was all Clarey could do to keep from trembling visibly with relief. - -"It doesn't even matter too much that one of the natives suspects," Han -went on, "as long as she doesn't definitely know." - -"She doesn't," Clarey said, "and she won't. And she won't tell anybody; -she'd be afraid for me." But he wasn't all that sure. The Damorlanti -didn't hate Earthmen and they didn't fear them, and so Embelsira -wouldn't think it was a shameful thing to be. He was glad he'd already -been deep-probed. At least this thought would be safe for three years -or so. - -"At any rate, they don't seem antagonistic toward Earthmen," the -general said, almost as if he'd read part of Clarey's mind. "I think -that's nice." - -Han Vollard looked at him. "It's not their attitude toward us that -matters. They couldn't do anything if they tried. It's what they are -that matters, what they will be that matters even more." - -"I take back what I said before!" Clarey flared. "You talk too damn -much!" - -There was a chilling silence. - -"Nerves," said Blynn nervously. "Every agent lets go when he's back -among his own kind. Nothing but release of tension." - - * * * * * - -Several days later the staff ship was ready to go back to Earth. "Don't -forget to tell your wife how much I enjoyed the pies," Spano said; -then, "Oh, I was forgetting; you could hardly do that. But do see if -you can work out something with the dehydro-freeze. I'd hate to have -to wait three years before tasting them again. You can keep your marac -rolls, though; I'll take my smoke-sticks." - -"Try not to get any more involved, Clarey," Han Vollard said as they -stood outside the airlock. "Maybe you ought to move on--to a city, -perhaps, another country--" - -"When I want your advice, I'll ask for it!" he snapped. - -After they'd gone, Blynn turned on him. "Man, you must be out of your -mind, talking to Secretary Vollard like that." - -"Why does she have to keep meddling? It's none of her business--" - -"None of her business! Secretary of the Space Service, and you say it's -none of her business?" - -Clarey blinked. "I thought she was Spano's secretary." - -Blynn laughed until the tears dampened his dark cheeks. "Spano's only -Head of Intelligence. She's his Mistress." - -"Of course--_mistress_, feminine of _master_! I should have realized -that before." Then Clarey laughed, too. "I'm a real all-round alien. I -can't even understand my own language." - -On the way back home he couldn't help thinking that Han Vollard might -be right. It could be the best thing for him to disappear now; the best -thing for himself, the best thing for Embelsira. He could pretend to -desert her--better yet, Blynn could fake some kind of accident, so her -feelings wouldn't be hurt. A pension of some kind would be arranged. -She could marry again, have the children she wanted so much. If he -waited the full ten years, she might never be able to have them. He had -no idea at what age Damorlant females ceased to be fertile. - -But she wasn't just a Damorlant female--she was his wife. He didn't -want to leave her. Maybe he never would have to. Hadn't Spano said that -when his term was over he could pick his planet? He would pick Damorlan. - - * * * * * - -When Clarey came home from Barshwat, Embelsira said nothing more about -her suspicions, but greeted him affectionately and prepared a special -supper for him. Afterward, he wondered if making love to an Earth girl -could be as pleasant. He wondered how it would be to make love to Han -Vollard. - -The days passed and he forgot about Han Vollard. After much persuasion, -he agreed to give a series of concerts at Zrig, but only on condition -that Rini played with him and had one solo each performance. He was -embarrassed at having so far outstripped his teacher, but Rini seemed -unperturbed. - -"My technique's still better than yours will ever be," he said. "It's -this new style of yours that gets 'em. I understand it's spreading; -it's reached as far as Barshwat. You should see the angry letters Irik -writes about it!" Rini chuckled. "And he hasn't the least idea it -started right here in his own home village that he's always sneered at -for being so backward!" - -Clarey smiled and clapped the boy on the neck. If it made Rini feel -better to think Clarey had a new style rather than that Clarey played -better than he did, Clarey had no objection. - -Clarey was offered the post of head librarian at Zrig, but Embelsira -didn't want to leave Katund, and, when he thought about it, he really -didn't want to either. So he refused the job and didn't bother -mentioning the matter to Headquarters. - -As he grew more sure of himself and his position, he allowed his wealth -to show. He and Embelsira moved into a larger dome. Instead of sending -to Zrig or even Barshwat for the furnishings, they hired local talent. -Tavan, the carpenter, made them some exquisite blackwood pieces inlaid -with opalescent stone that everyone said was the equal of anything -in Barshwat. A talented nephew of Hanxi's painted glowing murals; -Embelsira's mother wove rugs and draperies in muted water-tones. The -dome became the district showplace. Clarey realized he now had -a position to keep up, but sometimes it annoyed him when perfect -strangers asked to see the place. - -He was invited to run against Malesor as headman but declined. He -didn't want to be brought into undue prominence. Trouble was, as he -became popular, he also aroused animosity. There were the girls who -felt he should have married them instead of Embelsira, and their -mothers and subsequent husbands. A lot of people resented Clarey -because they felt he should have decorated his house differently, -dressed differently, spent his money differently. - -A man can live ignored by everyone, he discovered, but he can't be -liked by some without finding himself disliked by others. - - * * * * * - -Matters came to a head in his fourth spring there. He thought of it as -spring, although on Damorlan the seasons had no separate identities; -they blended into one another, without its ever being very hot or very -cold, very rainy or very dry. The reason he called this time of the -year spring was that it seemed closest to perfection. - -It was less perfect that year. Because it was then that Rini's brother -Irik came back from Barshwat, after a six years' absence. He was very -much the city man, far more so than anyone Clarey had seen in Barshwat -itself. His tunics were shorter than his fellow villagers', and his -cloaks iridesced restlessly from one vivid color to another. He wore a -great deal of jewelry and perfume, neither of the best quality, and the -toes of his boots were divided. - -Clarey described this in detail to Embelsira the night Irik put in -his first appearance at the Furbush. "You should have seen the little -horror!" - -"That's the way city men dress," Embelsira told him. "It's fashionable." - -"But, dear, I've been to Barshwat." - -"You don't have an eye for clothes. You never notice when I put on -anything new. And I think it's unfair to take a dislike to Irik just -because you don't care for the way he dresses." - -"It's more than that, Belsira." And yet how could he explain to her -what he couldn't quite understand himself, that Irik was vain, stupid, -hostile; hence, dangerous? - -"I swear to you, Balt," Embelsira said demurely, "that whatever there -was between me and Irik, it all ended six years ago." - -Clarey gave a start and then held back a smile. "I believe you, dear." -And he kissed her nose. - - * * * * * - -Irik held forth in the Furbush every evening of his stay in Katund. He -had grievances and he aired them generously. He hated everything--the -government, taxes, modern music, and Earthmen, whom he seemed to -consider in some way responsible for the modern music, or at least its -popularization. "Barbarians--slept completely through my concerts." - -"But people are always falling asleep during concerts, Irik," Malesor -pointed out reasonably. "And how could you expect barbarians to -appreciate good music? What do you care for Earthmen's opinions as long -as your own people like your music?" - -Irik hesitated. "But the Earthmen have taken up the new kind of music; -they stay awake during that. And--a lot of people seem to think that -whatever's strange is good, so whatever the Earthmen like eventually -becomes fashionable." - -Hanxi wiggled his ears. "Fashions change. Well, who's ready to have his -mug refilled?" - -"But the Earthmen will keep on setting the fashions," Irik snarled. -"Many people think the Earthmen know everything, just because they're -aloof and have sky cars." - -"Well," Malesor said, "the sky cars certainly prove they know -something we don't. Better stick to your music, boy." - -The smoky little bar-parlor resounded with laughter and Irik's face -turned a nasty red. "They don't know anything about music and they -don't know everything about machinery. We might surprise them yet. A -friend of mine knows Guhak, the fellow who invented that new brake for -the track car a few years ago." - -"We know about that brake," Piq observed. "It stops a car so good, the -chains are twice as late nowadays as they used to be, and you couldn't -strictly say they were ever on time." - -Everybody laughed again. Irik quivered with anger. "Guhak has invented -a car that doesn't need to go on tracks. It can run _whenever_ it wants -_wherever_ it wants. And one car will be able to go faster than three -hax teams." - -"That I'll believe when I've ridden on it," Kuqal grinned. "Even -the chains aren't that fast." The others bit their thumbs and -nodded--except Clarey, who was rigidly keeping out of the conversation. -He forced squfur down his tightening throat and said nothing. - -"You're backward clods!" Irik raged. "If the Earthmen can have cars -that go through the sky without tracks why shouldn't we have cars that -run on the ground the same way? Have we tried?" - -"Doesn't seem to me it's worth the effort," Malesor said. "Our cars can -get us where we're going as fast as we need to go already, why bother?" - -"Whatever an Earthman can do, we can do better! Soon Guhak will get his -ground cars on the road. After that, it'll only be a short step to cars -that go in the sky. Then we'll find out where the Earthmen come from -and why they're here. We'll be as powerful as they are. We'll get rid -of them and their rotten music." - -The bar parlor was silent, except for the clink as Clarey put his mug -on the table. If he held it an instant longer, he was afraid he would -spill it. One or two of the men looked at him uneasily out of the -corners of their eyes. Malesor spoke: "In the first place, you don't -know how powerful Earthmen are. In the second place, who wants to be -powerful, anyway? The Earthmen haven't done us any harm and they're a -good thing for the economy. My cousin in Zrig tells me one of 'em come -into his store a coupla months ago and bought out his whole stock, -every bolt of cloth. Paid twice what it was worth, too. Live and let -live, I say." - -The others murmured restlessly. - -"If there are ways of doing things better," Rini suggested, "why -shouldn't we have them, too?" His eyes darted quickly toward Clarey's -and then as quickly away. - -Irik turned his head and looked directly at Clarey for the first time. -"You're silent, stranger. What do _you_ think of the Earthmen?" - - * * * * * - -Clarey picked up his drink, finished the squfur and set the mug back -down on the table. "I don't know much about Earthmen. An ugly-looking -lot, true, but there doesn't seem to be any harm in them. Of course, -living in Barshwat, you probably know a lot more about them than I do." - -"I doubt that," Irik said. "You have an aunt in Barshwat." - -Clarey allowed himself to look surprised before he said courteously, -"I'm glad you find me and my family so interesting. Yes, it so happens -I do have an aunt there, but she's rather advanced in years and doesn't -enjoy hanging around the starship field the way the children do." - -Irik's face darkened. "What is your aunt's name?" - -This time everyone looked surprised. The question itself was not too -out-of-the-way, but his tone decidedly was. - -"She's a great-grandmother," Clarey said. "She would be too old for -you. And I assure you it's difficult to part her from her money. I've -tried." - -Everybody laughed. Irik was furious. "I understand that your aunt lives -very close to Earth Headquarters!" - -Somebody must have followed him on one or more of his trips to -Barshwat, Clarey realized. "If the Earthmen chose to establish -themselves in the best residential section of Barshwat, then probably -my aunt does live near them. She's not the type to leave a comfortable -dome simply because foreigners move into the neighborhood." - -"Perhaps she has more than neighborhood in common with Earthmen." - -The room was suddenly very quiet again. - -"She does sometimes go to sleep at concerts," Clarey conceded. - -Irik opened his mouth. Malesor held up a hand. "Before you say anything -more against the Earthmen, Irik," he advised, "you oughta find out more -about them. Their cars move faster and higher than ours. Maybe their -catapults do, too." - -No one looked at Clarey. Malesor had averted a showdown, he knew, but -this was the beginning of the end. And he had a suspicion who was -responsible--innocently perhaps, perhaps not. Love does not always -imply trust. And when he told Embelsira what had happened in the -Furbush, she, too, couldn't meet his eye. "That Irik," she said, "I -never liked him." - -"I wonder how he knows so much about me." - -"Rini writes him very often," she babbled. "He must have told him you -were responsible for the new music. That would make him hate you. Rini -likes to irritate Irik, because he's always been jealous of him. But -the whole thing's silly. How could you possibly make over the world's -music, even if you were--" Her voice ran down. - -"An Earthman?" he finished coldly. "I suppose you went around telling -everybody your suspicions, and Rini wrote that to Irik, too?" - - * * * * * - -"I didn't tell anybody!" she protested indignantly. "Not a soul!" She -met his eye. "Except Mother, of course." - -"Your mother! You might as well have published it in the District -Bulletin!" - -"You have no right to speak of Mother like that, even if it's true!" -Embelsira began to sob. "I had to tell her, Balt--she kept asking why -there weren't any young ones." - -"You could've told her to mind her own business!" he snapped, before -he could catch himself. Five years, and he still made slips. It was -her business. On Damorlan, it was a woman's duty not only to have -children but to see that her children had children and their children -had children. - -He made himself look grave and self-reproachful. "I have a confession -to make, Belsir. I should have told you when I married you. I can't -have children." - -"I never heard of such a thing! Everybody has children--unless they're -not married, of course," she added primly. - -"It's an affliction sent by the gods." - -"The gods would never do anything like that!" she declared confidently. - -How primitive she is, he thought, and, then, angrily, how provincial I -am! He had never stopped to think about it, but he knew of no married -couple who had not at least one offspring; he and Embelsira were the -only ones. It hadn't occurred to the X-T specialists that a species -whose biological assets were roughly the same might have different -handicaps. Apparently there was no such thing as sterility on Damorlan. - -"Are you really an Earthman, then, Balt?" she asked timidly. - -She had spread the news around, ruined him, ruined the work Earth had -been doing, perhaps ruined even more than that--and she hadn't even -been sure to begin with. But it was too late for recriminations. He -had to salvage what little he could--time, maybe; that was all. - -"Are you going to tell?" he asked. - -She hesitated. "Do you swear you don't mean my people any harm?" - -"I swear," he said. - -"Then I swear not to tell," she said. - -He kissed her. After all, he thought, it isn't a lie. _I_ don't mean -her people any harm. Besides, sooner or later, her mother will get it -out of her, so she won't be keeping her part of the bargain. - - * * * * * - -The next time he went to Barshwat he knew he would be followed. He -tried to shake the follower or followers off, but he couldn't be sure -he'd succeeded. - -He found the colonel looking out of the window with an expression of -quiet melancholy. If there had been any Earthwomen on Damorlan, Clarey -would have thought he'd been crossed in love. - -"Things are taking a bad turn, Clarey," Blynn said. "There have been -certain manifestations of hostility from the natives. Get any hint of -it?" - -"No," Clarey said, taking his usual chair, "not a whisper." - -The colonel sat down heavily. "Katund's too out of the way. We -should've moved you to a city once you'd got the feel of things. But -you do go to Zrig occasionally. Haven't you heard anything there?" - -"Only that an Earthman bought out a cloth merchant's entire stock at -one blow." - -Blynn grinned weakly. "Maybe it was rather an ostentatious thing to do, -but the fabric's beautiful stuff." - -He rubbed his nose reflectively. "Fact is, I've been hearing disturbing -rumors. They say some fellow named Kuhak's invented a ground car that -can run without tracks." - -Clarey almost said "Guhak," but caught himself in time. "Nonsense," he -scoffed. "The more I know of them, the more surprised I am they ever -got as far as inventing the chains." - -"But they did, no getting around that. This is what Earth's afraid of, -you know," he reminded Clarey--unnecessarily. "This is why you were -sent here. And, if the rumor's true, it looks as if you weren't needed -at all. I got the bad news by myself." - -"But why should it be that upsetting?" Clarey tried to laugh. "You look -as if it were the end of the world." - -The colonel gave him a long, level look. "I consider that remark in the -worst of taste." - -Clarey stopped laughing. - -"Remember," the colonel reminded Clarey, again unnecessarily, "this is -the way we ourselves got started." - -"But the Damorlanti don't have to move in the same direction. They may -look human and even act human, but they don't think human." - -The colonel clasped his hands behind his head and sighed. "There have -been articles against us in the paper, and whenever we go out in the -street people--natives, I mean--make nasty remarks and sometimes even -faces at us. And what have we done to them? Carefully minded our own -business, avoided all cultural contacts except for trade purposes, paid -them much more than the going price for their goods, and gave them one -or two tips on health and sanitation. As a result, they're beginning to -hate us." - -"But if you send a report, it'll bring the staff ship in ahead of time. -Maybe the whole thing'll blow over. This way, you're not giving it a -chance to." - -The colonel chewed his lip. "Well," he finally said, "I might as well -wait and see if the rumor's verified before I report it." - - * * * * * - -Clarey went back to Katund. The months went by. The friendly atmosphere -in the Furbush had vanished, and not as many people stopped and -chatted when they came to the library. But there wasn't any actual -incident until the evening Clarey was walking home after late night at -the library and a stone struck him between the shoulder-blades. "Dirty -Earthman!" a voice called, and several pairs of feet scuttled off. - -He didn't mention the incident to Embelsira, not wanting to worry her, -but the next morning he went to the Village Dome and informed Malesor. -"Very bad," the headman muttered. "_Very_ bad. Whoever did it will be -punished." - -"You won't be able to catch them," Clarey said, "and there'd be no -point in punishment, anyway. Look at it like this, Mal. Suppose I had -been an Earthman, don't you see how dangerous this would be, not for me -but for you? Can't you imagine the inevitable results?" - -Malesor nodded. "The Earthmen's catapults do go farther and faster, -then?" - -"And maybe deeper," Clarey agreed, pretending not to notice that it had -been a question. "After the way Irik talked, I couldn't help drifting -over to the starfield when I was in Barshwat and watching an Earth ship -come. You've no idea how incredibly powerful a thing it was. Anyone -who has power in one direction is likely to have it in another." - -"I wonder if the Earthmen always had power," Malesor mused, "if they -weren't like us once. If, given time, we couldn't be like them...." - -Clarey didn't say anything. - -Malesor's pale face turned gray. "You mean we might not be given time?" - -Clarey wiggled his ears. "Who can tell what's in the mind of an -Earthman?" - -Malesor looked directly at him. "Why do you tell me this?" - -"Because I'm one of you," Clarey said stoutly. - -Malesor shook his head. "You're not. You never can be. But thanks for -the warning--stranger." - -_Never identify_, the robocoach had said. _You'll never be able to -become the character you're trying to play._ He was talking only of the -stage, Clarey told himself angrily, as he left the Dome. - -Reports trickled in from the cities. Earthmen had been stoned twice in -Zrig, more often than that in Barshwat. Clarey got an agitated letter -from his aunt. "Watch out for yourself, Nephew," she warned. "They may -take it into their heads to attack all foreigners. Remember, come what -may, you'll always have a home with me." - -Then everything broke open. A group of natives attacked Earth -Headquarters in Barshwat. The Earthmen sprayed them with a gas which -made the attackers lose consciousness without harming them; that is, it -was intended to work that way. However, one of them hit his head on the -wall when he fell, and he died the next day. - -The people of Vintnor were aroused. They milled angrily around Earth -Headquarters carrying banners that said, "Go home, Earth murderers!" -The headman of Barshwat called upon Colonel Blynn. The colonel -courteously refused to withdraw his men from the planet. "I'm under -orders, old chap," he said, "but I'll report your request back to -Earth." - -"It isn't a request," the headman said. - -Colonel Blynn smiled and said, "We'll treat it as one, shall we?" - -Clarey knew what happened, because the headman gave a report of the -conversation to the Barshwat Prime Bulletin. He also got a letter from -his aunt describing the incident as vividly as if she had been there -herself. The Barshwat Prime ran a series of increasingly intemperate -editorials calling upon all the nations of Damorlan to unite against -the Earthmen; it was spirit that counted, it said, rather than -technology. Malesor wrote a letter asking how superior spiritual values -could compete against presumably superior weapons. He read it aloud -in the Purple Furbush before he sent it to the editor of the Barshwat -Prime, which was lucky, because the Prime never printed it, although -the Dordonec Bulletin ran a copy. - - * * * * * - -However, the Barshwat Prime did print letters from editors in different -countries. All of them pledged firm moral support. It also printed a -letter from an anonymous correspondent in Katund which alleged that -there was an Earth spy in that village, disguised as a Damorlant, and -it was this spy who was personally responsible for the decline of -musical taste on the whole planet. But the Bulletin seemed to consider -this merely as an emanation from the lunatic fringe: "It would be as -easy to disguise a hix as one of us as an Earthman. And, although we -could certainly not minimize the importance of music in our culture, -it is hardly likely that Earth would be attempting to achieve fell -purposes through undermining that art. No, the decline in musical taste -represents part of the general decline in public morality which has -left us an easy prey." - -Irik went back to Barshwat to help riot, but he left the Katundi -convinced that Clarey was, if not actually an Earthman, at least a -traitor. When he came into the Furbush, everybody got up and left. -Nobody patronized the branch library any more. The constant readers -went to the main library at Zrig, and, since the trip was expensive, -their books were usually overdue and they had to pay substantial fines. -Sometimes they never returned the books at all and messengers had to -be sent from the city. Finally the chief librarian at Zrig issued a -regulation that only those resident within the city limits could take -books out; all others in the district had to read them on the premises. -The Katundi blamed that on Clarey, too. One night they broke into his -library and stole all the best-sellers. - -A couple of days later, he came home and found all the windows of his -dome broken. Best-sellers are often disappointing, he thought. He found -a note from Embelsira, saying, "I have gone home to Mother." - -He knew she expected him to go after her, but he wrote her a note -saying he was going to see his aunt who was terrified by all the riots, -and put it in the mail, so she wouldn't get it too soon. He packed his -kit with his most important possessions and he took his ulerin under -his arm. - -When he reached Barshwat, he had some difficulty getting through the -crowd in front of Earth Headquarters. All the windows were boarded up -and the garbage hadn't been collected for a considerable length of -time. Just as he reached the door, a familiar voice called, "That's the -Earth spy!" - -"Don't be silly!" another voice said. "He's obviously one of us!" - -"But a traitor!" cried another voice. "Otherwise why go in there?" -Stones splattered against the door, followed by impartial cries of -"Spy!... Traitor!... Fool!" the last seemingly addressed to each other, -rather than Clarey. - -Blynn was haggard and anxious-looking "I've been wondering when you'd -show up. Afraid maybe they'd got you--" - -"I'm all right," Clarey interrupted. "But what are we going to do?" - -Blynn laughed without stopping for a full minute. "Do? I'll tell you -what we're going to do. We're going to sit tight and wait for the staff -ship." - -Two months later the staff ship came. Blynn radioed for the general and -the secretary to come in a closed ground car. - -"But why?" the general's voice crackled plaintively over the com-unit. -"I thought we didn't want them to know about ground cars--" - -"They know," Blynn said crisply. "They've got one of their own now, -maybe more. Crazy-looking thing, but it works. You'll see it outside -Headquarters when you get here. The letters on the side mean 'Earthmen, -Go!' Form imperative impolite emphatic." - -Han Vollard strode into Headquarters, eyes ablaze. "Why didn't you -send a report before trouble started? How could you allow an emergency -situation to happen?" - -Neither Blynn nor Clarey said anything. - -"Very distressing thing," Spano declared. "Maybe it hit them so -suddenly they didn't know it was building." - -"You and Blynn get over to the ship right away for deep-probing," Han -Vollard ordered, as both began to speak at once. "It's the only way -I'll be able to get a coherent report." - -After the results came through, her anger was cold, searing, unwomanly. -"You knew a year ago that things were beginning to go wrong and you -didn't even mention it on the tapes! I could have both of you broken -for this." - -"If only that were all there was to worry about," Clarey sighed -wistfully. - - * * * * * - -She whirled on him. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself!" The sudden loss -of control in that dark amazon was more threatening than anything that -had happened yet. - -"I'm not feeling sorry for myself," he said. "It's the Damorlanti I -feel sorry for." - -"You feel sorry for them because you identify with them. That makes you -sorry for yourself." - -She misunderstood his motives as she misunderstood everything he did -or said, but their rapport wasn't at stake now. "What are you going to -do?" he forced himself to ask. - -"The decision will have to be made on Earth. Unless you mean what's -going to happen to you? That's simple--you'll go back with us. Blynn -will stay here, pending orders." - -The colonel saluted. - -"But I thought I was going to stay here ten years," said Clarey. - -"Five to ten years," she corrected. "Apparently five was enough--" She -cut herself short. "What's the matter with me?" she suddenly exclaimed. -"I've been letting myself think in the same woolly way you do." - -Suddenly, almost frighteningly, she smiled. "Clarey, you _did_ the job -we sent you out to do! You did it better than we expected! What threw -me off was that we sent you out to act as an observer. Instead, you -became a catalyst!" - -She seized his hand and wrung it warmly. "Clarey, I apologize. You've -done a splendid job!" - -He wrenched his hand from her grasp. "I didn't act as a catalyst! -It would have happened anyway." His voice rang in his own horrified -ears--a voice begging for reassurance. - -And she was a woman; she had maternal instincts; she reassured him. "It -would have happened anyway," she said soothingly, "but it would have -dragged on for years, cost the taxpayers billions." - -"And now," he whispered, still unable to believe that the thing had -really happened, "will you ... dispose of everyone on Damorlant?" - -She smiled and threw herself into a chair, her body limp and tired and -contented-looking. "Come, Clarey, we're not that ruthless. Some kind of -quarantine will probably be worked out. We just made the whole thing -sound more drastic to appeal to your patriotism." - -The general beamed. "So everything has worked out all right, after all? -I knew it would. I always had the utmost confidence in you, Clarey." - -She was busily planning. "We'll arrange some kind of heroic -accident.... I have it! You died saving your aunt from the flames." - -"What flames?" - -"The flames of the fire that burned down her house. She died of the -local equivalent of shock. Embelsira will be rich, so she'll want to -believe the story. She'll be able to find herself another husband; -she'll have children. She'll be better off, Clarey." - -He looked at her, his misery welling out of his eyes. - -"Oh, I don't mean it that way, man! All I meant was that you're a human -being; she's not. I'm not saying one is better than the other. I'm -saying they're different." - -"But I felt less different with her, with the Damorlanti, than with -anyone on Earth," he said. - -She walked across to the window and looked out at the Damorlanti -rioting ineptly below. "Most of us are happier in our dream world," she -said at last, "but society couldn't function if we were allowed to stay -there." - -"Damorlan wasn't a dream world." - -"But it will be," she said. - - * * * * * - -And so Clarey went back to Earth on the staff ship. Once its luxury -would have given him pleasure; now the cabin with its taps that gave -out plain water, salt water, mineral water, and assorted cordials held -no charm; neither did the self-contained tri-di projector-receiver. The -only reason he stayed there most of the time was to avoid the others. -However, he couldn't avoid turning up in the dining salon for meals. -The greater his sorrow, the greater his appetite. - -One day after lunch, Han stopped him forcibly, grasping his arm. "I've -got to talk to you. Afterward you can go off and sulk if you want to. -But we're going to make planetfall in a few days. It's necessary to -discuss your future now." - -"I have no future," he said. - -"Come this way, Clarey. That's an order!" - -Obediently, he followed her into a lounge that was a dazzle of -color and splendor. There were eight pseudo-windows, each framing a -pseudo-scene of a different planet at a different season. The harsh, -barren summer of Mars, the cold, bleak winter of Ksud, the gentle green -spring of Earth.... It must be a park, he knew; in no other place on -Earth could spring be manifest--and yet it gave him a little pang to -look at it. He tore his eyes away to turn them toward the others, and -then up at the domed ceiling, fashioned to resemble a blue sky with -clouds drifting across it. A domed ceiling ... and he thought of the -domes of Damorlan, light-years away among the stars.... - -"I'm afraid the décor's a bit gaudy," Han apologized. "We didn't -check the decorator's past performance until it was too late. But -it's comfortable, anyway. Try one of these chairs. They accommodate -themselves to the form." - -She threw herself on a chaise lounge that accommodated itself perfectly -to her form. She wasn't wearing her usual opulent secretarial garb, but -something simple of clinging stuff that occasionally went transparent. -So we're back to the first movement, Clarey though wearily. - -He made sure that the chair opposite her was old-style before he -lowered himself into it. "Where's the general? I thought he always sat -in on these conferences." - -"The formalities are over now," she said, smiling up at him. "Besides," -she added, "if he doesn't take a nap after lunch, it wreaks havoc with -his digestion. Afraid to be alone with me, Clarey?" she asked huskily. - -"Yes," he said, rising, "as a matter of fact, I am, now that you -mention it." - -She sat up. "Sit down!" - -He sat down. - -She didn't recline again. Her dress went opaque, but her voice grew -silken once more. "Listen, Clarey, I don't want you to think we're -cheating you out of anything we promised. Even though you stayed only -five years, you're going to have it all. You'll have U-E status--" - -"What do I want that for?" - -"Doesn't it mean anything to you any more, Clarey? It used to mean a -lot, though you denied it even to yourself." - -"Did it?" He forced his thoughts back through time. "I suppose it did. -But I've changed. You know, those five years on Damorlan seem like--" - -"Like a lifetime," she finished. "Couldn't we dispense with the -clichés?" - -"On Damorlan the things I said were fresh and interesting. On Damorlan -I was somebody pretty special. I'd rather be a big second-hand fish in -a small primitive puddle. Isn't there some way--" - -"No way at all, Clarey! The puddle's drying up. We've got a nice -aquarium ready for you. Why not dive in gracefully?" - -"It was my puddle," he said. "I belonged." - - * * * * * - -She closed her eyes and sank back into the chair which arched to meet -the arch of her body. Lying down, she didn't look nearly as tall. "All -right, let's give the whole opera one final run-through. Nobody cared -for you on Earth; on Damorlan your friends liked you; your wife loved -you. On Earth you never felt welcome and/or appreciated; on Damorlan -you felt both welcome and appreciated. On Earth--" - -He was stung out of his apathy. "That's right! I'm not saying I'm -unique, only that I fitted--" - -"How about trying to look at it from another point of view? Did it ever -occur to you that, if the Damorlanti accepted you, so might your own -people, if you approached them in the same way? Did you ever _try_ to -make friends on Earth?" - -"But on Earth I shouldn't have to. They were my own people." - -"Aha!" she cried gleefully. - -"I mean--well, General Spano said it would be wrong to stoop to -hypocrisy to win the friendship of my own people; that, if I did, their -friendship wouldn't be worth anything. You can't buy friendship." - -"You bought your ulerin. Does it play any the worse because you paid -for it? Does it mean any the less to you?" - -"What you're getting at," he said cautiously, "is that that's the way -to make friends? By being a hypocrite?" - -"Was it a sham with the Damorlanti?" - -He had to stop for a moment before he could bring out an answer. "It -started out as a sham--but I really got to like them afterward. Then -it was real." - -"So then you weren't a hypocrite, Clarey." Her voice grew more -resonant. "Open yourself to people, show them that you want to be -friends. Basically, everybody's shy and timid inside." - -"Like you?" he said, casting an ironical glance at her dress. - -"That's still the outside," she smiled, making no move to adjust it. -"Listen to me, Clarey, and don't go off on sidetracks: The people of -Earth are your own people. Your loyalties have always been with them." - -She had almost had him convinced, but this he couldn't swallow. "If my -loyalties had been with Earth, I would have sent back reports of the -trouble. But I didn't. I tried to stop it from happening. There just -wasn't anything I could do." - -"The deep-probe never lies, Clarey. You didn't really try to stop it." -She paused, and then went on deliberately: "Because you could have -stopped it, you know quite easily." - -"There was nothing I could have done," he stated. "Nothing." - -"Remember the first time the staff ship came? Just before you left for -Barshwat, the woman told you she suspected you were an Earthman. You -were afraid for her. Do you remember that?" - -He nodded. Yes, he remembered how terrified he had been then, how -relieved afterward, thinking everything was going to be all right. -Lucky he hadn't realized the truth, or he wouldn't have had those extra -years of happiness. - - * * * * * - -Han went on remorselessly: "And you thought if only something would -happen to you en route, she would be safe. We might guess why it had -happened, but we couldn't know for sure. We'd have had to start all -over again." - -He couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't think. She spaced each word -carefully, sweetly. "You were quite right. Because you were the only -man on Earth, Clarey, who had the particular physical requirements and -the particular kind of mental instability that we needed for the job. -You just said you weren't unique, Clarey. You were too modest; you are. -If you'd killed yourself then, your death would have served a purpose; -you would have died a hero. Kill yourself now and you die a coward." - -"But at least I'd be dead. I wouldn't have to live with a coward for -the rest of my life." - -"You're not a coward, Clarey," she said. "You wouldn't admit it, but -you are and always have been a patriot. To you, Earth came first. It's -as simple as that." - -She had deep-probed his mind. She must know his true feelings. There -was no gainsaying that. He could know only his surface thoughts; she -knew what lay behind and beneath. And, he reminded himself, at the end -the Damorlanti were actually turning on him. - -"Try to think of the whole thing as a course in charm that you've -passed with flying colors," she said. - -"It seems rather an expensive way of making me charming," he couldn't -help saying, with the last struggle of something that was dying in him, -something alien that perhaps should never have been there in the first -place. - -"Whole civilizations have been sacrificed for nothing at all. This one -will not be sacrificed, only quarantined. But its contribution could be -of cosmic magnitude." - -"Now what are you going to try to sell me?" he asked drearily. "Are -you saying that the essence of the Damorlant civilization is going to -live on in me, that I carry its heritage inside myself, and so I have a -tremendous responsibility to the Damorlanti on my shoulders?" - -She laughed. "You're really getting sharp, Clarey. If you stayed in the -service, you could be one of our best operatives. But you're not going -to stay in the service. Yours is a higher destiny. Here, catch!" - -She tossed him something that glittered as it arched through the air. - -It was a U-E identcube, made out in his name. He had only seen them at -a distance, and now he was holding one warm and gleaming in his hand, -with his name and his face in it. His face ... and yet not his face. - -"That's what you're going to look like when the plastosurgeons get -through," she explained. "They'll pigment your eyes and skin and hair, -and they may be able to add a few inches to your height. Though I think -you actually have grown a little. Something about the air, or, more -likely, the food." - -"Embelsira thought I was handsome the way I was. Embelsira...." -But Embelsira was light-years away. Embelsira was part of a fading -dream--and he was awakening now to reality. - -"Look at the cube. Look at your status symbol." - -He looked at it, and he kept on looking at it. He couldn't tear his -eyes away. He was hypnotized by the golden glitter of it, the golden -meaning of it. "Musician," he said aloud. "Musician...." A dream word, -a magic word. He hadn't thought of it for years, but this he didn't -have to reach back for. Once touched on, it surged over him, complete -with its memories. - - * * * * * - -But she had made it meaningless, too. He managed to tear a laugh out of -his throat. "Spano said I'd be able to buy the Musicians' Guild when I -had my million and a half. Apparently you've been able to bargain them -down." - -"This cost nothing except the standard initiation fee," she told him. -"You came by it honestly--through your music, nothing else. And you -have more than a million and a half credits, Clarey--nearly ten times -that, with more pouring in' every day." - -She touched a boss on the side of her chair and white light hazed -around them. "I think we're close enough to Earth to get some of the -high-power tri-dis," she said, "although we can't expect perfect -reception." - -Blurrily, a show formed--a variety show. At first it seemed the same -sort of thing that he remembered dimly, more interesting now because -it had almost the character of novelty. Then an ornate young man -appeared and it took deeper significance. He was carrying a musical -instrument--refined, machined, carefully pitched. He played music on -the ulerin while a trio sang insipid Terrestrial words. "Love Is a -Guiding Star" they called it, but that didn't matter. It was one of the -tunes Clarey had taped. - -She touched another boss. The blur reformed to a symphony orchestra, -playing as background music to a soloist with another ulerin. "That's -your First Ulerin Concerto," she said. "There are three more." - -Another program was beginning, an account of the tribulations of an -unfortunate Plutonian family. It faded in to the strains of ulerin -music, to a tune of Clarey's. If they could have endured it to the end, -she told him, it would have faded out the same way. "Every time they -play it," she said, "somewhere on Earth a cash register rings for you. -And this one's a daily program." - -He watched transfixed and transfigured as program after program -featured his music, his ulerin. - -"Not just on Earth," Han said, "but on all the civilized planets, even -in a few of the more sophisticated primitive ones. You're a famous man, -Clarey. Earth is waiting for you, literally and figuratively. There'll -be ulerin orchestras to greet you at the field; we sent a relay ahead -to let them know you were coming." - -But his mind was slowly alerting itself. "And where am I supposed to be -coming from, then, since they're never to hear about Damorlan?" - -"They've been told that you retired to a lonely asteroid to work--to -perfect your art and its instrument." - -Of course they couldn't divulge the truth about Damorlan. "It seems a -little unfair, though," he said. - -"Why unfair? After all, Clarey, the music is yours. You took Damorlan's -melodies and made them into music. You took their ulerin and made it -into a musical instrument. They're all yours, every note and bladder of -them." - -She reached over and put out a hand to him. "And I'm yours, too, -Clarey, if you want me," she breathed. There was obviously no doubt in -her mind that he did want her. And in his, too. One didn't reject the -Secretary of Space. - -He took the chilly hand in his. The skin was odd in texture. I'm -imagining things, he thought. It's a long time since I touched a human -female's hand. - -"I must be a very important Musician," he said aloud. - - * * * * * - -She nodded, not pretending to misunderstand. "Yes, important enough to -rate the original and not a reasonable facsimile. You're a lucky man, -Clarey." And then she smiled up at him. "I can be warm and tender, I -assure you." - -It took him a moment to realize what she meant. For a moment he had -that pang again. She would never be the same as Embelsira, but a man -needed change to develop. - -He was still troubled, though. "I want to do _something_. Even an empty -gesture's better than none at all. The last few months, I started -putting together a longer thing; I guess it could be a symphony. When I -finish it, I'd like to call it the 'Damorlant Symphony.'" - -"Why not?" she said. He thought she was humoring him, but she added, -"They'll think you just picked the name from an astrogation chart." - -In a final burst of irony he dedicated the "Damorlant Symphony" to the -human race, but, as usual, he was misunderstood. In fact, one of the -music critics--all of whom were enthusiastic over the new work--wrote, -"At last we have a great musician who is also a great humanist." - -Eventually Clarey forgot his original intent and came to believe it -himself. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Sentry Of The Sky, by Evelyn E. 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Smith - -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/license - - -Title: Sentry Of The Sky - -Author: Evelyn E. Smith - -Release Date: April 26, 2016 [EBook #51867] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SENTRY OF THE SKY *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="392" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<h1>SENTRY OF THE SKY</h1> - -<p>BY EVELYN E. SMITH</p> - -<p>Illustrated by RITTER</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Galaxy Magazine February 1961.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus1.jpg" width="350" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph3"><i>There had to be a way for Sub-Archivist<br /> -Clarey to get up in the world—but this<br /> -way was right out of the tri-di dramas.</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Clarey had checked in at Classification Center so many times that he -came now more out of habit than hope. He didn't even look at the card -that the test machine dropped into his hand until he was almost to the -portway. And then he stopped. "Report to Room 33 for reclassification," -it said.</p> - -<p>Ten years before, Clarey would have been ecstatic, sure that -reclassification could be only in one direction. The machine had -not originally given him a job commensurate with his talents; why -should it suddenly recognize them? He'd known of people who had been -reclassified—always downward. I'm a perfectly competent Sub-Archivist, -he told himself; I'll fight.</p> - -<p>But he knew fighting wouldn't help. All he had was the right to refuse -any job he could claim was not in his line; the government would then -be obligated to continue his existence. There were many people who did -subsist on the government dole: the aged and the deficient and the -defective—and creative artists who refused to trammel their spirits -and chose to be ranked as Unemployables. Clarey didn't fit into those -categories.</p> - -<p>Dispiritedly, he passed along innumerable winding corridors and up -and down ramps that twisted and turned to lead into other ramps and -corridors. That was the way all public buildings were designed. It -was forbidden for the government to make any law-abiding individual -think the way it wanted him to think. But it could move him in any -direction it chose, and sometimes that served its purpose as well as -the reorientation machines.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus2.jpg" width="443" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>So the corridors he passed through were in constant eddying movement, -with a variety of individuals bent on a variety of objectives. For the -most part, they were of Low Echelon status, though occasionally an -Upper Echelon flashed his peremptory way past. Even though most L-Es -attempted to ape the U-E dress and manner, you could always tell the -difference. You could tell the difference among the different levels of -L-E, too—and there was no mistaking the Unemployables in their sober -gray habits, devoid of ornament. It was, Clarey sometimes thought when -guilt feelings bothered him, the most esthetic of costumes.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The machine in Room 33 extracted whatever information it was set to -receive, then spewed Clarey out and sent him on his way to Rooms 34, -35, and 36, where other machines repeated the same process. Room 37 -proved to be that rare thing in the hierarchy of rooms—a destination. -There was a human Employment Commissioner in it, splendidly garbed in -crimson silvet and alexandrites—very Upper Echelon, indeed. He wore a -gold mask, a common practice with celebrities who were afraid of being -overwhelmed by their admirers, an even more common practice with U-E -non-celebrities who enjoyed the thrill of distinguished anonymity.</p> - -<p>Then Clarey stopped looking at the Commissioner. There was a girl -sitting next to him, on a high-backed chair like his. Clarey had never -seen a U-E girl so close before. Only the Greater Archivists had -direct contact with the public, and Clarey wasn't likely to meet a U-E -socially, even if he'd had a social life. The girl was too fabulous -for him to think of her as a woman, a female; but he would have liked -to have her in his archives, in the glass case with the rare editions.</p> - -<p>"Good morning, Sub-Archivist Clarey," the man said mellowly. "Good -of you to come in. There's rather an unusual position open and the -machines tell us you're the one man who can fill it. Please sit down." -He indicated a small, hard stool.</p> - -<p>Clarey remained standing. "I've been a perfectly competent -Sub-Archivist," he declared. "If MacFingal has—if there have been any -complaints, I should have been told first."</p> - -<p>"There have been no complaints. The reclassification is upward."</p> - -<p>"You mean I've made it as a Musician!" Clarey cried, sinking to the -hard little stool in joyful atony.</p> - -<p>"Well, no, not exactly a Musician. But it's a highly artistic type of -job with possible musical overtones."</p> - -<p>Clarey became a hollow man once more. No matter what it was, if it -wasn't as duly accredited Musician, it didn't matter. The machine could -keep him from putting his symphonies down on tape, but it couldn't keep -them from coursing in his head. That it could never take away from -him. Or the resultant headache, either.</p> - -<p>"What is the job, then?" he asked dully.</p> - -<p>"A very important position, Sub-Archivist. In fact, the future welfare -of this planet may depend on it."</p> - -<p>"It's a trick to make me take a job nobody else wants," Clarey sneered. -"And it must be a pretty rotten job for you to go to so much trouble."</p> - -<p>The girl, whom he'd almost forgotten, gave a little laugh. Her eyes, he -noticed, were hazel. There were L-E girls, he supposed, who also had -hazel eyes—but a different hazel.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Perhaps this will convince you of the job's significance," the -interviewer said huffily. He took off his mask and looked at Clarey -with anticipation. He had a sleek, ordinary, middle-aged-to-elderly -face.</p> - -<p>There was an awkward interval. "Don't you recognize me?" he demanded.</p> - -<p>Clarey shook his head. The girl laughed again.</p> - -<p>"A blow to my ego, but proof that you're the right man for this job. -I'm General Spano. And this is my Mistress, Secretary Han Vollard."</p> - -<p>The girl inclined her head.</p> - -<p>"At least you must know my name?" Spano said querulously.</p> - -<p>"I've heard it," Clarey admitted. "'The Fiend of Fomalhaut,' they call -you," he went on before he could catch himself and stop the words.</p> - -<p>The girl clapped her hand over her mouth, but the laughter spilled out -over and around it, pretty U-E laughter.</p> - -<p>Spano finally laughed, too. "It's a phrase that might be used about -any military man. One carries out one's orders to the best of one's -ability."</p> - -<p>"Besides," Clarey observed in a non-Archivistic manner, "what concern -have I with your military morality?"</p> - -<p>"He's absolutely perfect for the job, Steff!" she cried. "I didn't -think the machines were that good!"</p> - -<p>"We mustn't underestimate the machines, Han," Spano said. "They're -efficient, very efficient. Someday they'll take over from us."</p> - -<p>"There're some things they'll never be able to do," she said. Her hazel -eyes lingered on Clarey's. "Aren't you glad, Archivist?"</p> - -<p>"Sub-Archivist," he corrected her frostily. "And I hadn't really -thought about it."</p> - -<p>"That's not what the machines say, Sub-Archivist," she told him, her -voice candy-sweet. "They deep-probed your mind. You don't do anything, -but you've thought about it a lot, haven't you?"</p> - -<p>Clarey felt the blood surge up. "My thoughts are my own concern. You -haven't the right to use them to taunt me."</p> - -<p>"But I think you're attractive," she protested. "Honestly I do. In a -different way. Just go to a good tailor, put on a little weight, dye -your hair, and—"</p> - -<p>"And I wouldn't be different any more," Clarey finished. That wasn't -true; he would always be different. Not that he was deformed, just -unappealing. He was below average height and his eyes and hair and skin -were too light. In the past, he knew, there had been pale races and -dark races on Earth. With the discovery of other intelligent life-forms -to discriminate against together, the different races had fused into -a swarthy unity. Of course he could hide his etiolation with dye and -cosmetics, but those of really good quality cost more than he could -afford, and cheap maquillage was worse than none. Besides, why should -his appearance mean anything to anybody but himself? He'd had enough -beating around the bush! "Would you mind telling me exactly what the -job is?"</p> - -<p>"Intelligence agent," said Spano.</p> - -<p>"Isn't it exciting?" she put in. "Aren't you thrilled?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Clarey bounced angrily from his chair. "I won't sit here and be -ridiculed!"</p> - -<p>"Why ridiculed?" Spano asked. "Don't you consider yourself an -intelligent man?"</p> - -<p>"Being an intelligence agent has nothing to do with intelligence!" -Clarey said furiously. "The whole thing's silly, straight out of the -tri-dis."</p> - -<p>"What do you have against the tri-dis, Sub-Archivist?" Spano's voice -was very quiet.</p> - -<p>"Don't you like any of them?" the girl said. "I just adore <i>Sentries of -the Sky</i>!" Her enthusiasm was tinged, obscurely, with warning.</p> - -<p>"Well, I enjoy it, too," Clarey said, sinking back to the stool. "It's -very entertaining, but I'm sure it isn't meant to be taken seriously."</p> - -<p>"Oh, but it is, Sub-Archivist Clarey," Spano said. "<i>Sentries of the -Sky</i> happens to be produced by my bureau. We want the public to know -all about our operations—or as much as it's good for them to know—and -they find it more palatable in fictionalized form."</p> - -<p>"Documentaries always get low ratings," the girl said. "And you can't -really blame the public—documentaries are dull. Myself, I like a love -interest." Her eyes rested lingeringly on Clarey's.</p> - -<p>They must think I'm a fool, Clarey thought; yet why would they bother -to fool me? "But I am given to understand," he said to Spano, "even by -the tri-dis, that an intelligence agent needs special training, special -qualifications."</p> - -<p>"In this case, the special qualifications outweigh the training. And -you have the qualifications we need for Damorlan."</p> - -<p>"According to the machines, all I'm qualified for is human filing -cabinet. Is that what you want?"</p> - -<p>Spano was growing impatient. "Look, Clarey, the machines have decided -that you are not a Musician. Do you want to remain a Sub-Archivist for -the rest of your days or will you take this other road? Once you're on -a U-E level, you can fight the machines; tape your own music if you -like."</p> - -<p>Clarey said nothing, but his initial hostility was ebbing slowly away.</p> - -<p>"I wanted to be a writer," Spano said. "The machines said no. So -I became a soldier, rose to the top. Now—this is in strictest -confidence—I write most of the episodes of <i>Sentries of the Sky</i> -myself. There's always another route for the man with guts and vision, -and, above all, faith. Why don't we continue the discussion over -lunch?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was almost unthinkable for L-E and U-E to eat together. For Clarey -this was an honor—too great an honor—and there was no way out of it. -Spano and the girl put on their masks; the general touched a section of -the wall and it slid back. There was a car waiting for them outside. -It skimmed over the delicately wrought, immensely strong bridges that, -together with the tunnels, linked the great glittering metropolis into -a vast efficient whole.</p> - -<p>Spano was not really broadminded. Although they went to the <i>Aurora -Borealis</i>, it was through a side door, and they were served in a -private dining room. Clarey was glad and nettled at the same time.</p> - -<p>The first few mouthfuls of the food tasted ambrosial; then it cloyed -and Clarey had to force it down with a thin, almost astringent pale -blue liquid. In itself, the liquor had only a mild, slightly pungent -taste, but it made everything else increasingly delightful—the -warm, luxurious little room, the perfume that wafted from the -air-conditioning ducts, Han Vollard.</p> - -<p>"Martian mountain wine," she warned him. "Rather overwhelming if you're -not used to it, and sometimes even if you are...." Her eyes rested on -the general.</p> - -<p>"But there are no mountains on Mars," Clarey said, startled.</p> - -<p>"That's it!" Spano chortled. "When you've drunk it, you see mountains!" -And he filled his glass again.</p> - -<p>While they ate, he told Clarey about Damorlan—its beautiful climate, -light gravity, intelligent and civilized natives. Though the planet -had been known for two decades, no one from Earth had ever been there -except a few selected government officials, and, of course, the regular -staff posted there.</p> - -<p>"You mean it hasn't been colonized yet?" Clarey was relieved, because -he felt he should, as an Archivist, have known more about the planet -than its name and coordinates. "Why? It sounds like a splendid place -for a colony."</p> - -<p>"The natives," Spano said.</p> - -<p>"There were natives on a lot of the planets we colonized. You disposed -of them somehow."</p> - -<p>"By co-existence in most cases, Sub-Archivist," Spano said drily. -"We've found it best for Terrans and natives to live side by side -in harmony. We dispose of a race only when it's necessary for the -greatest good. And we would especially dislike having to dispose of the -Damorlanti."</p> - -<p>"What's wrong with them?" Clarey asked, pushing away his half-finished -crême brulée a la Betelgeuse with a sigh. "Are they excessively -belligerent, then?"</p> - -<p>"No more belligerent than any intelligent life-form which has pulled -itself up by its bootstraps."</p> - -<p>"Rigid?" Clarey suggested. "Unadaptable? Intolerant? Indolent? -Personally offensive?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Spano smiled. He leaned back with half-shut eyes, as if this were a -guessing game. "None of those."</p> - -<p>"Then why consider disposing of them?" Clarey asked. "They sound pretty -decent for natives. Don't wipe them out; even an ilf has a right to -live."</p> - -<p>"Clarey," the girl said, "you're drunk."</p> - -<p>"I'm in full command of my faculties," he assured her. "My wits are -all about me, moving me to ask how you could possibly expect to use -a secret agent on Damorlan if there are no colonists. What would he -disguise himself as—a touring Earth official?" He laughed with modest -triumph.</p> - -<p>Spano smiled. "He could disguise himself as one of them. They're -humanoid."</p> - -<p>"<i>That</i> humanoid?"</p> - -<p>"That humanoid. So there you have the problem in a nutshell."</p> - -<p>But Clarey still couldn't see that there was a problem. "I thought -we—the human race, that is—were supposed to be the very apotheosis -of life species."</p> - -<p>"So we are. And that's the impression we've conveyed to such other -intelligent life-forms as we've taken under our aegis. What we're -afraid of is that the other ilfs might become ... confused when they -see the Damorlanti, think they're the ruling race." Leaning forward, -he pounded so loudly on the table both the others jumped. "This is our -galaxy and we don't intend that anyone, humanoid or otherwise, is going -to forget it!"</p> - -<p>"You're drunk, too, Steff," the girl said. She had changed completely; -her coquetry had dropped as if it were another mask. And it had been, -Clarey thought—an advertising mask. An offer had been made, and, if -he accepted it, he would get probably not Han herself but a reasonable -facsimile.</p> - -<p>He tried to sort things out in his whizzing brain. "But why should the -other ilfs ever see a Damorlant?" he asked, enunciating very precisely. -"I've never seen another life-form to speak of. I thought the others -weren't allowed off-planet—except the Baluts, and there's no mistaking -them, is there?" For the Baluts, although charming, were unmistakably -non-human, being purplish, amiable, and octopoid.</p> - -<p>"We don't forbid the ilfs to go off-planet," Spano proclaimed. -"That would be tyrannical. We simply don't allow them passage in our -spaceships. Since they don't have any of their own, they can't leave."</p> - -<p>"Then you're afraid the Damorlanti will develop space travel on their -own," Clarey cried. "Superior race—seeking after knowledge—spread -their wings and soar to the stars." He flapped his arms and fell off -the stool.</p> - -<p>"Really, Steff," Han said, motioning for the servo-mechanism to pick -Clarey up, "this is no way to conduct an interview."</p> - -<p>"I am a creative artist," the general said thickly. "I believe in -suiting the interview to the occasion. Clarey understands, for he, -too, is an artist." The general sneezed and rubbed his nose with -his silver sleeve. "Listen to me, boy. The Damorlanti are a fine, -creative, productive race. It isn't generally known, but they -developed the op fastener for evening wear, two of the new scents on -the roster come from Damorlan, and the snettis is an adaptation of a -Damorlant original. Would you want a species as artistic as that to be -annihilated by an epidemic?"</p> - -<p>"Do our germs work on them?" Clarey wanted to know.</p> - -<p>"That hasn't been established yet. But their germs certainly work -on us." The general sneezed again. "That's where I got this sinus -trouble, last voyage to Damorlan. But you'll be inoculated, of course. -Now we know what to watch out for, so you'll be perfectly safe. That -is, as far as disease is concerned."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>His face assumed a stern, noble aspect. "Naturally, if you're -discovered as a spy, we'll have to repudiate you. You must know that -from the tri-dis."</p> - -<p>"But I haven't said I would go!" Clarey howled. "And I can't see why -you'd want <i>me</i>, anyway!"</p> - -<p>"Modest," the general said, lighting a smoke-stick. "An admirable -trait in a young intelligence operative—or, indeed, anyone. Have a -smoke-stick?"</p> - -<p>Clarey hesitated. He had never tried one; he had always wanted to.</p> - -<p>"Don't, Clarey," the girl advised. "You'll be sick."</p> - -<p>She spoke with authority and reason. Clarey shook his head.</p> - -<p>The general inhaled and exhaled a cloud of smoke in the shape of a -bunnit. "The Damorlanti look like us, but because they look like us, -that doesn't mean they think like us. They may not have the least idea -of developing space travel, simply be interested in developing thought, -art, ideals, splendid cultural things like that. We don't know enough -about them; we may be making mountains out of molehills."</p> - -<p>"Martian molehills," Clarey snickered.</p> - -<p>"Precisely," the general agreed. "Except that there are no moles on -Mars either."</p> - -<p>"But I still can't understand. Why <i>me</i>?"</p> - -<p>The general leaned forward and said in a confidential tone, "We want -to understand the true Damorlan. Our observations have been too -superficial; couldn't help being. There we come, blasting out of the -skies with the devil of a noise, running all over the planet as if we -owned it. You know how those skyboys throw their gravity around."</p> - -<p>Clarey nodded. <i>Sentries of the Sky</i> had kept him well informed on such -matters.</p> - -<p>"So what we want is a man who can go to Damorlan for five or ten years -and become a Damorlant in everything but basic loyalties. A man who -will absorb the very spirit of the culture, but in terms our machines -can understand and interpret." Spano stood erect. "You, Clarey, are -that man!"</p> - -<p>The girl applauded. "Well done, Steff! You finally got it right side -up!"</p> - -<p>"But I've lived twenty-eight years on this planet and I'm not a part -of its culture," Clarey protested. "I'm a lonely, friendless man—you -must know that if you've deep-probed me—so why should I put up a front -and be brave and proud about it?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Then he gave a short, bitter laugh. "I see. That's the reason you want -me. I have no roots, no ties; I belong nowhere. Nobody loves me. Who -else, you think, but a man like me would spend ten years on an alien -planet as an alien?"</p> - -<p>"A patriot, Sub-Archivist," the general said sternly. "By God, sir, a -patriot!"</p> - -<p>"There's nothing I'd like better than to see Terra and all its colonies -go up in smoke. Mind you," Clarey added quickly, for he was not as -drunk as all that, "I've nothing against the government. It's a purely -personal grievance."</p> - -<p>The general unsteadily patted his arm. "You're detached, m'boy. You can -examine an alien planet objectively, without trying to project your own -cultural identity upon it, because you have no cultural identity."</p> - -<p>"How about physical identity?" Clarey asked. "They can't be ex-exactly -like us. Against the laws of nature."</p> - -<p>"The laws of man are higher than the laws of nature," the general said, -waving his arm. A gout of smoke curled around his head and became a -halo. "Very slight matter of plastic surgery. And we'll change you -back as soon as you return." Then he sat down heavily. "How many young -men in your position get an opportunity like this? Permanent U-E -status, a hundred thousand credits a year and, of course, on Damorlan -you'd be on an expense account; our money's no good there. By the time -you got back, there'd be about a million and a half waiting for you, -with interest. You could buy all the instruments and tape all the music -you wanted. And, if the Musicians' Guild puts up a fuss, you could buy -it, too. Don't let anybody kid you about the wheel, son; money was -mankind's first significant invention."</p> - -<p>"But ten years. That's a long time away from home."</p> - -<p>"Home is where the heart is, and you wanting to see your own planet -go up in a puff of smoke—why, even an ilf wouldn't say a thing like -that!" Spano shook his head. "That's too detached for me to understand. -You'll find the years will pass quickly on Damorlan. You'll have -stimulating work to do; every moment will be a challenge. When it's -all over, you'll be only thirty-eight—the very prime of life. You -won't have aged even that much, because you'll be entitled to longevity -treatments at regular intervals.</p> - -<p>"So think it over, m'boy." He rose waveringly and clapped Clarey on -the shoulder. "And take the rest of the afternoon off; I'll fix it -with Archives. We wouldn't want you coming back from Classification -intoxicated." He winked. "Make a very bad impression on your -co-workers."</p> - -<p>Han masked herself and escorted Clarey to the restaurant portway. -"Don't believe everything he says. But I think you'd better accept the -offer."</p> - -<p>"I don't have to," Clarey said.</p> - -<p>"No," she agreed, "you don't. But you'd better."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Clarey took the cheap underground route home. His antiseptic little -two-room apartment seemed even bleaker than usual. He dialed a dyspep -pill from the auto-spensor; the lunch was beginning to tell on him. -And that evening he couldn't even take an interest in <i>Sentries of -the Sky</i>, which, though he'd never have admitted it, was his favorite -program. He had no friends; nobody would miss him if he left Earth or -died or anything. The general's right, he thought; I might as well -be an alien on an alien planet. At least I'll be paid better. And he -wondered whether, in lighter gravity, his spirits might not get a lift.</p> - -<p>He dragged himself to work the next day. He found someone did care -after all. "Well, Sub-Archivist Clarey," Chief Section Archivist -MacFingal snarled, "I would have expected to see more sparkle in your -eye, more pep in your step, after a whole day of nothing but sweet -rest."</p> - -<p>"But—but General Spano said it would be all right if I didn't report -back in the afternoon."</p> - -<p>"Oh, it is all right, Sub-Archivist, no question of that. How could I -dare to complain about a man who has such powerful friends? I suppose -if I gave you the Sagittarius files to reorganize, you'd go running to -your friend General Spano, sniveling about cruel and unfair treatment."</p> - -<p>So Clarey started reorganizing the Sagittarius files—a sickeningly -dull task which should by rights have gone to a junior archivist. All -morning he couldn't help thinking about Damorlan—its invigorating -atmosphere, its pleasant climate, its presumed absence of archives and -archivists. During his lunchstop he looked up the planet in the files. -There was only a small part of a tape on it. There might be more in -the Classified Files. It was, of course, forbidden to view secretapes -without a direct order from the Chief Archivist, but the tapes were -locked by the same code as the rare editions. After all, he told -himself, I have a legitimate need for the information.</p> - -<p>So he punched for Damorlan in the secret files. He put the tape in the -viewer. He saw the natives. Cold shock filled him, and then hot fury. -They were humanoid all right—pallid, pale-haired creatures. Objective -viewpoint, he thought furiously; detachment be damned! I was picked -<i>because I look like one of them</i>!</p> - -<p>He was wrenched away from the viewer. "Sub-Archivist Clarey, what is -the meaning of this?" Chief Section Archivist MacFingal demanded. "You -know what taking a secretape out without permission means?"</p> - -<p>Clarey knew. The reorientation machine. "Ask General Spano," he said in -a constricted voice. "He'll tell you it's all right."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>General Spano said that it was, indeed, all right. "I'm so glad to hear -you've decided to join us. Splendid career for an enterprising young -man. Smoke-stick?"</p> - -<p>Clarey refused; he no longer had any interest in trying one.</p> - -<p>"Don't look so grim," Spano said jovially. "You'll like the Damorlanti -once you get to know them. Very affectionate people. Haven't had any -major wars for several generations. Currently there are just a few -skirmishes at the poles and you ought to be able to keep away from -those easily. And they'll simply love you."</p> - -<p>"But I don't like anyone," Clarey said. "And I don't see why the -Damorlanti should like me," he added fairly.</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you why! Because it'll be your job to <i>make</i> them like you. -You've got to be friendly and outgoing if it kills you. Anyone can -develop a winning personality if he sets his mind to it. I though you -said you watched the tri-dis!"</p> - -<p>"I—I don't always watch the commercials," Clarey admitted.</p> - -<p>"Oh, well, we all have our little failings." Spano leaned forward, -his voice now pitched to persuasive decibels. "Normally, of course, -you wouldn't stoop to hypocrisy to gain friends, and quite right, -too—people should accept you as you are or they wouldn't be worthy -of becoming your friends. But this is different. You have to be what -they want, because you want something from them. You'll have to suffer -rebuffs and humiliations and never show resentment."</p> - -<p>"In other words," Clarey said, "a secret agent is supposed to forget -all about such concepts as self-respect."</p> - -<p>"If necessary, yes. But here self-respect doesn't enter into it. These -aren't people and they don't really matter. You wouldn't be humiliated, -would you, if you tried to pat a dog and it snarled at you?"</p> - -<p>"Steff, he's got to think of them as people until he's definitely given -them a clean bill of health," Han Vollard protested. "Otherwise, the -whole thing won't work."</p> - -<p>"Well," the general temporized, "think of them as people, then, but as -inferior people. Let them snoop and pry and sneer. Always, at the back -of your mind, you'll have the knowledge that this is all a sham, that -someday they'll get whatever it is they deserve. You might even think -of it as a game, Clarey—no more personal than when you fail to get the -gardip ball into the loop."</p> - -<p>"I don't happen to play gardip, General," Clarey reminded him coldly. -Gardip was strictly a U-E pastime. And, in any case, Clarey was not a -gamesman.</p> - -<p>He was put through intensive indoctrination, given accelerated courses -in the total secret agent curriculum: Self-Defense and Electronics, -Decoding and Resourcefulness, Xenopsychology and Acting.</p> - -<p>"There are eight cardinal rules of acting," the robocoach told him. -"The first is: Never Identify. You'll never be able to become the -character you're playing, because you aren't that character—the -playwright gave birth to him, not your mother. Therefore—"</p> - -<p>"But I'm only going to play one role," Clarey broke in. "All I need to -know is how to play that role well and convincingly. My life may depend -on it."</p> - -<p>"I teach acting," the robocoach said loftily. "I don't run a charm -school. If you come to me, you learn—or, at least, are exposed to—all -I have to offer. I refuse to tailor my art to any occasional need. Now, -the second cardinal rule...."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Clarey was glad he could absorb the languages and social structure -of the planet through the impersonal hypno-tapes. He had to learn -more than one language because the planet was divided into several -national units, each speaking a different tongue. Inefficient as far as -planetary operation went, but advantageous to him, Han Vollard pointed -out, because, though he'd work in Vangtor, he would be supposed to have -originated in Ventimor; hence his accent.</p> - -<p>"Work?" Clarey asked. "I thought I was going to be an undercover agent."</p> - -<p>"You'll have a cover job," she explained wearily. "You can't just -wander around with no visible source of income, unless you're a member -of the nobility, and it would be risky to elevate you to the peerage."</p> - -<p>"What kind of a job will I have?" Clarey asked, brightening a little at -the idea of possibly having something interesting to do.</p> - -<p>"They call it <i>librarian</i>. I'm not exactly sure what it is, but -Colonel Blynn—he's our chief officer on the planet—says that after -indoctrination you ought to be able to handle it."</p> - -<p>Clarey already knew that jobs on Damorlan weren't officially assigned, -but that employer and employee somehow managed to find each other -and work out arrangements themselves. Sometimes, Han now explained, -employers would advertise for employees. Colonel Blynn had answered -such a job in Vangtor on his behalf from an accommodation address in -Ventimor. "You were hired sight unseen, because you came cheap. So they -probably won't check your references. Let's hope not, anyway."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The trip to Damorlan was one long aching agony. Since luxury liners -naturally didn't touch on Damorlan, he was sent out on a service -freighter, built for maximum stowage rather than comfort. Most of the -time he was spacesick. The only thing that comforted him was that it -would be ten years before he'd have to go back.</p> - -<p>They landed on the Earthmen's spaceport—the only spaceport, of -course—at Barshwat, and he was hustled off to Earth Headquarters in -an animal-drawn cart that made him realize there were other ailments -besides spacesickness.</p> - -<p>"Afraid you're going to have to hole up in my suite while you're with -us," Colonel Blynn apologized when Clarey was safely inside. "The -rest of the establishment is crawling with native servants—daytimes, -anyway; they sleep out—but they have orders never to come near my -quarters."</p> - -<p>He looked interestedly at Clarey. "Amazing how the plastosurgeons got -you to look exactly like a native. Those boys really know their stuff. -Maybe I <i>will</i> have my nose fixed next time I go Earthside."</p> - -<p>Clarey glared venomously at the tall, handsome, dark young officer.</p> - -<p>"Don't worry," Blynn soothed him. "I'm sure when you go back they'll be -able to make you look exactly the way you were before."</p> - -<p>He gave Clarey a general briefing and explained to him that the -additional allowance he'd be receiving—since he couldn't be expected -to live on a Damorlant salary—would come from an alleged rich aunt in -Barshwat.</p> - -<p>"Where'll you get the native currency?" Clarey asked.</p> - -<p>"We do some restricted trading with the natives, bring materials -that're in short supply; salt, breakfast cereals, pigments, -thread—stuff like that. Nothing strategic, nothing they could possibly -use against us ... unless they decide to strangle us with our own -string." He guffawed ear-splittingly.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>One rainy evening a couple of Earth officers hustled Clarey into a -hax-cart. A little later, equipped with a native kit, an itinerary, and -a ticket purchased in Ventimor, he was left a short distance from a -large track-car station.</p> - -<p>He was so numb with fright he had to force himself to move in the right -direction leg by leg. He gained a little confidence when he was able to -find the terminus without needing to ask directions; he even managed -to find the right chain of cars and a place to sit in one of them. -He didn't realize that this was something of an achievement until he -discovered that certain later arrivals had to stand. He wondered why -more tickets were issued than there were seats available, then realized -the answer was simple—primitives couldn't count very accurately.</p> - -<p>Creakily and slowly, the chain got under way. Clarey's terror mounted. -Here he was, wearing strange clothes, on a strange world, surrounded by -strange creatures. They aren't really repulsive, he told himself; they -look like people; they look like me.</p> - -<p>Some of the natives seemed to be staring at him. His heart began to -beat loudly. Could they hear it? Did their hearts beat the same way? -Was their hearing more acute than his? The tapes had seemed so full of -information; now he saw how full of holes they'd been. Then he noticed -that the natives were staring at each other. His heart quieted. Only -a local custom. After a while, little conversational groups formed. -No one spoke to him, for he spoke to no one. He was not yet ready to -thrust himself upon them; he had enough to do to reach his destination -successfully.</p> - -<p>He tried to follow the conversations for practice and to keep his mind -off his fears. The male next to him was talking to the male opposite -about the weather and its effect on the sirtles. The three females on -his other side were telling each other how their respective offspring -were doing in school. Some voices he couldn't identify with owners were -complaining how much sagor and titulwirt cost these days. I don't know -why the government is so worried, he thought; they're not really very -human at all.</p> - -<p>The chain had been scheduled to reach the end of its run in three -hours. It took closer to five. He got off at what would have been -around midnight on Earth, and the terminus where he was supposed to -take the next chain was almost empty of people, completely empty of -cars. Although it was still a few minutes before his car was due, he -was worried. Finally, he approached a native.</p> - -<p>"Is this—is this not where the 39:12 to Zrig is destined to appear?" -he asked, conscious as he uttered Vangtort aloud for the first time -that his phrasing was not entirely colloquial.</p> - -<p>The native stared at him with small pale eyes and bit his middle -finger. "Stranger, eh?" he asked in a small pale voice.</p> - -<p>"Yes." The native waited. "I come from Ventimor," Clarey told him. Nosy -native, he thought furiously; prying primitive.</p> - -<p>"You don't hafta shout," the native said. "I'm not deef."</p> - -<p>Clarey realized what he hadn't noted consciously before—the natives -spoke much more softly than Earthmen. Local custom two.</p> - -<p>"You'll be finding things a lot different here in Vangtor," the native -told him. "Livelier, more up to date. F'rinstance, do the cars always -run on time in Ventimor?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," Clarey said firmly.</p> - -<p>"Well, they don't here. Know why? That's because we've got more'n one -chain of 'em." He made a noise like a wounded turshi. He was laughing.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Clarey smiled until his gums ached. "About the 39:12? It is rather -important to me, as I understand the next chain does not leave for -several days."</p> - -<p>The native lifted a chronometer hanging around his neck. "Ought to get -in around 40 or so," he said. "Whyn't you get yourself a female or a -bite to eat?" He waved his hand toward the two trade booths that were -still open for business.</p> - -<p>Clarey was very hungry. But, as he got near the food booth, the stench -and the sight of the utensils were too much for him. He went back to -the carways and sat huddled on a banquette until his chain came in at -40:91.</p> - -<p>The car he picked was empty, so he stretched out on the seat and slept -until it got to Zrig, very early in the morning. When he got out, -day was dawning and a food booth hadn't had time to accumulate odors -so he climbed to one of the perches and pointed to something that -looked like a lopsided pie and something else that looked like coffee. -Neither was what it appeared to be, but the pseudo-pie was edible and -the pseudo-coffee was good. Somehow, the food seemed to diminish his -fright; it made the world less strange.</p> - -<p>"Where you going, stranger?" the native asked, resting his arms on the -top of the booth.</p> - -<p>"Katund," Clarey said. The other looked puzzled. "It is a village near -Zrig."</p> - -<p>"That a fact?" The native bit his little finger. "You look like a city -feller to me."</p> - -<p>"That is correct," Clarey said patiently. "I come from Qytet. It is a -place of some size." He waited a decent interval before collapsing his -smile.</p> - -<p>"Now, why would a smart-looking young fellow like you want to go to a -place like this Katund, eh?"</p> - -<p>Clarey started to shrug, then remembered that was not a Damorlant -gesture. "I have received employment there."</p> - -<p>"I should think you'd be able to do better'n that." The native nibbled -at his thumb. "What did you say you worked at?"</p> - -<p>"I didn't. I am a librarian."</p> - -<p>The native turned away and began to rinse his utensils. "In that case, -I guess Katund's as good a place as any."</p> - -<p>Surely, Clarey thought, even a Damorlant would at this point rise up -and smite the food merchant with one of his own platters. Then he -forgot his anger in apprehension. What in the name of whatever gods -they worshipped on this planet could a librarian possibly be?</p> - -<p>He got up and was about to go. Then he remembered to be friendly and -outgoing. "I have never tasted better food," he told the native. "Not -even in Barshwat."</p> - -<p>The native picked up the coin Clarey had left by way of tip and bit it. -Apparently it passed the test. "Stop here next time you're passing this -way," he advised, "and I'll really serve you something to write home -about!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The omnibus for Katund proved to be nothing but a large cart drawn by a -team of hax. Clarey waited for internal manifestations as he rode. None -came. I've found my land legs, he thought, or, rather, my land stomach. -And with the hax jogging along the quiet lanes of Vangtor, he found -himself almost at peace.</p> - -<p>Earth was completely urbanized: there were the great metropolises; -there were the parks; there were the oceans. That was all. So to him -the Vangtort countryside looked like a huge park, with grass and trees -and flowers that were slightly unrealistic in color, but beautiful just -the same—even more, perhaps. It was idyllic. There's bound to be some -catch, he thought.</p> - -<p>The other passengers, who'd been talking together in low tones, turned -toward Clarey. "You'll be the new librarian, I take it?" the tallest -observed. He was a bulky creature, wearing a rich but sober cloak that -came down to his ankles.</p> - -<p>For a moment Clarey couldn't understand him; the local dialect seemed -to thicken the words. "Why, yes. How did you know that?"</p> - -<p>The native wiggled his ears. "Not many folks come to Katund and a new -librarian's expected, so it wasn't hard to figure. Except you don't -look my idea of a librarian."</p> - -<p>Clarey nervously smoothed the dark red cloak that covered him from -shoulder to mid-calf. Was it too loud? Too quiet? Too short?</p> - -<p>"What give you the idea of comin' to Katund?" the oldest and smallest -of the three asked in a whistling voice. "It's no place anybody who -wasn't born here'd choose."</p> - -<p>"Most young fellers favor the city," the third—a barrel-shaped -individual—agreed. "I'd of gone there myself when I was a lad, if Dad -hadn't needed somebody to take over the Purple Furbush when he was -gone."</p> - -<p>"Maybe he's runnin' away," the ancient sibilated. "When I was a boy, -there was a feller from the city came here; turned out to be a thief." -All three stared at Clarey.</p> - -<p>"I—I replied to an advertisement in the Dordonec District Bulletin," -he said carefully. "I wished for a position that was peaceful and -quiet. I am recovering from an overset of the nervous system."</p> - -<p>The oldest one said, "That'd account for it right enough."</p> - -<p>Clarey gritted his teeth and beamed at them.</p> - -<p>"Typical idiot smile," the ancient whispered. "Noticed it myself right -off, but I didn't like to say."</p> - -<p>"Is it right to have a librarian that isn't all there?" the proprietor -of the Furbush asked. "Foreigner, too. I mean to say—the young ones -use him more'n most."</p> - -<p>"We've got to take what we can get," the biggest native said. "Katund's -funds are running mighty low."</p> - -<p>"What can you expect when you ballot yourself a salary raise every -year?" the old one whistled. The other two made animal noises. Clarey -must not jump; he must learn to laugh like a turshi if he hoped to be -the life of any Damorlant party.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The big one stood up as well as he could in the swaying cart. "Guess -I'd better introduce myself," he said, holding out a sturdily shod -foot. "I'm Malesor, headman of Katund. This is Piq; he deals in blots -and snarls. And Hanxi here's the inn-keeper."</p> - -<p>"My name is Balt," Clarey said. "I am honored by this meeting." And he -went through the conventional toe-touching with each one.</p> - -<p>"Guess you'll be putting up with me until you've found permanent -quarters, Til Balt," Hanxi said. "Not that you could do much better -than make your permanent home at the Purple Furbush. You'll find life -more comfortable than if you lodge with a private fam'ly. Bein' a young -unmarried man—" he twisted his nose suggestively—"you'd naturally -want a bit of freedom, excitement."</p> - -<p>"Remember he's a librarian," Piq whistled. "He might not appreciate as -good a time as most young fellers."</p> - -<p>Clarey was glad when a cluster of domes appearing over the horizon -indicated that they'd reached Katund. He looked about him curiously. -The countryside he'd been able to equate with a park, but this small -aggregate of detached dwellings bore no relationship to anything in his -experience.</p> - -<p>His kit was dexterously removed from his hand. "Guess you'll want to -check in first," Hanxi said, "so I'll just take your gear over to the -inn for you."</p> - -<p>He pointed out a small dome shading from lavender at the bottom to rose -pink on top. Over the door were glittering symbols which Clarey was -able to decipher after a moment's concentration as "Dordonec District -Public Library—Katund Branch," and underneath, in smaller letters, -"Please Blow Nose Before Entering."</p> - -<p>Hesitantly, he touched the screen that covered the portway. It rolled -back. He went inside.</p> - -<p>At his first sight of what filled the shelves from floor to topmost -curve of the dome, Clarey became charged with fury. The ancient -books in the glass cases back on Earth were of a different shape and -substance, but, "My God," he cried aloud, "it's nothing but another -archive!"</p> - -<p>The female in charge glared at him. "Silence, please!"</p> - -<p>Suddenly the anger left him, and the fear. He was no longer a stranger -on a strange world. He was an archivist in an archive.</p> - -<p>She took a better look at him and the local equivalent of a bright -smile shone on her face. "May I help you, til?" she asked in a softer, -sweeter voice.</p> - -<p>"I am Balt, til," he said. "I am the new librarian."</p> - -<p>She came out from behind the desk to offer the ceremonial toe touch. -"I'm Embelsira, the head librarian, and I am very glad to see you!" Her -tone was warm; she really seemed to mean it. "Everything's in such a -mess," she went on. "I've needed help so very badly, so very long." She -looked up at him, for she was a good deal shorter than he. "So glad," -she murmured, "so very, very glad to see you, really."</p> - -<p>"Well, now you have help," he said with quiet strength. "Where are the -files?"</p> - -<p>They were written instead of punched, of alien design, in an alien -language, arranged according to alien patterns, but he understood them -at a glance. "These will need to be re-organized from top to bottom," -he said.</p> - -<p>"Yes, Til Balt," she said demurely. "Whatever you say."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Once every six months, Clarey went for a long weekend to visit -his "Aunt Askidush" in Barshwat. Barshwat was the largest city on -Damorlan; it was the capital of Vintnor—the greatest nation. Earthmen, -Clarey thought, as he traveled there in the comparative luxury of a -first-class compartment—as a rich nephew, he saw no real reason to -travel third-class—were disgustingly obvious.</p> - -<p>That first time, he was five hours late, and Blynn was a nervous -wreck. "I was afraid you'd been killed or discovered or God knows," he -babbled, practically embracing Clarey in a fervency of relief. "I was -afraid—"</p> - -<p>"Come, come, Colonel," Clarey interrupted, striding past him, "you know -how inefficient Damorlant transport is, and I had to make two chain -connections."</p> - -<p>"Of course," the colonel said, wiping the perspiration off his -forehead. "Of course. And you must be dead tired. Sit down; let me take -your cloak—"</p> - -<p>"How about the servants?" Clarey asked.</p> - -<p>"This is their weekend off." Blynn pulled himself together. "Really, my -dear fellow, I've been in this business longer than you. I know what -precautions to take."</p> - -<p>"Never can be too careful."</p> - -<p>"I see you've got yourself another cloak," the colonel said as he hung -it in the guest snap. "Very handsome. I've never seen one like it."</p> - -<p>"Yes. As a matter of fact, several people on the chains wanted to know -where I'd got it."</p> - -<p>"Where <i>did</i> you get it?" asked Blynn, feeling the material. "Might go -well as an export."</p> - -<p>"Afraid it couldn't be exported. It's a custom job, you see. -Hand-woven, hand-decorated. It was a birthday present."</p> - -<p>The colonel stared at him.</p> - -<p>"Well," Clarey said, "if you didn't expect me to get birthday presents, -you shouldn't have put a birth date on my identity papers. My boss -baked me a melxhane—"</p> - -<p>"Your boss!"</p> - -<p>"The relationship between employer and employee is much different -from the way it is on Earth," Clarey explained. Reaching over, he -flipped the switch on the recorder and repeated the statement, adding, -"Embelsira is kind, considerate, helpful; she can't do enough for me." -He put his mouth close to the mechanism. "Be sure to tell MacFingal -that."</p> - -<p>"Now, now," the colonel said, turning the switch off. He pushed a small -tea wagon over to Clarey. "You must be starving. Have some sandwiches -and coffee. I'm sure you'll be glad to taste good Earth food again."</p> - -<p>"Yes, indeed," Clarey said, trying not to make a face. "Er—shouldn't -we start recording while everything's fresh in my mind?"</p> - -<p>"Might as well," the colonel said, flipping the switch again. "Pity we -don't have a probe here. Would save so much time. But, of course, it's -an expensive installation. All right, Clarey, over to you."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Clarey choked on a mouthful of sandwich and hesitated. "Begin with your -very first impressions," the colonel urged.</p> - -<p>"Well, the archives—the library—was in a real mess. Took me over two -weeks to get it in even roughly decent shape. Three different systems -of classification and, added to that—"</p> - -<p>"Not so much the library, old chap. Leave the technical stuff for -later. What I meant was your first impressions of the natives.... -Is something wrong with the coffee? And you've hardly touched your -sandwich. Maybe you'd like another kind. I have several varieties -here—ham and cheese and—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no," Clarey protested. "The one I have is fine. It's just that -I'm—well, to tell you the truth," he confessed, "I've grown accustomed -to Damorlant food."</p> - -<p>"Don't see how you could," the colonel said. "Nauseating stuff—to my -way of thinking," he added politely. He opened a sandwich and inspected -the filling.</p> - -<p>"You've only eaten at public places. Even the better restaurants don't -put themselves out for Earthmen, say they have no—palates, I guess the -word would be. But you ought to taste my landlady's cooking!"</p> - -<p>"All this is being taped, you know. They'll have to listen to every -word on Earth."</p> - -<p>"If only I could convey the true picture through words. Her ragouts -are rhapsodies, her soufflés symphonies—I'm using rough Terrestrial -equivalents, of course—"</p> - -<p>"The cuisine comes later, please. Over-all impressions first."</p> - -<p>"Well," Clarey began again, "at first I was a bit surprised that -you'd stuck me in a quarter-credit place like Katund. Naturally in a -village the people'd be more backward than in the cities, so you'd -have a poorer idea of how they were developing. Then I realized that -you couldn't help putting me there, that you probably couldn't write a -letter good enough to get me a job in any of the big centers. Embelsira -said she was surprised to find me so much more literate than she would -have expected from the letter."</p> - -<p>The colonel sat erect huffily. "I've never pretended to be a -philologist. And, anyway, Damorlan isn't like Earth. Here the heartbeat -of the planet is in its villages."</p> - -<p>"Earth hasn't any villages, so the comparison doesn't apply." Clarey -cleared his throat. "Don't you have anything to drink except coffee?"</p> - -<p>"Tea?"</p> - -<p>"That would be better. Do you know the Katundi have a special variety -of tea, or something very like it, which is—"</p> - -<p>"Tell me what they think of Earthmen," the colonel interrupted -desperately.</p> - -<p>"Not much. What I mean is, nobody in Katund's actually had any contact -with them, though they've heard of them, of course. Every now and then -there's a little article in the Dordonec Bulletin from their Barshwat -correspondent, and sometimes, if there isn't any real news, he gives a -couple of inches to the Earthmen."</p> - -<p>"Exactly how do they regard us?" the colonel asked as he spooned tea -into the pot. "Demi-gods? Superior beings? Are they in great awe of us?"</p> - -<p>"They regard us as visitors from another planet," Clarey said. "They -don't realize from quite how far away we hail, think it's only a matter -of a solar system or two, but they've got the general idea. Don't -forget, they may not be a mechanical people, but they do have some idea -of astronomy. They're not illiterate clods."</p> - -<p>"What do they think of our spaceships? Great silver birds, something -like that?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Sighing deeply, Clarey said, "They think our spaceships are cars that -fly through the sky without tracks. And they think it's silly, our -having machines to fly in the sky and none to go on the ground. There's -an old Dordonec proverb: 'One must run before one must fly.' Originally -applied to birds, but—"</p> - -<p>"But what else do they think about us?"</p> - -<p>Clarey was hurt. "That's what I was getting to, if you'll only give me -time. After all, I've been speaking Vangtort for six months and it's a -little hard to go back to Terran and organize my thoughts at the same -time."</p> - -<p>"Terribly sorry," the colonel apologized, handing him a cup of tea. -"Carry on."</p> - -<p>"Thank you. They say if you—if we—are so smart, why do we use hax or -the chains like anybody else? They think somebody else must have given -us the starships, or else we stole them. That's mostly Piq's idea; he's -the village lawyer and, of course, lawyers are apt to think in terms -like that."</p> - -<p>"Um," the colonel said. "We didn't think it would be a good idea to -introduce ground cars. Upset their traffic and cause dissatisfied -yearnings."</p> - -<p>"They're satisfied with their hax carts. They're not in any hurry to -get anywhere. But Katund's a village. Attitudes may be different in the -cities."</p> - -<p>"You stick with your village, old chap. If you feel a wild urge for -city life, you can always take a weekend trip to Zrig. Stay at the Zrig -Grasht; it's the only decent inn. By the way, you spoke of a landlady. -Do you mean at the inn?"</p> - -<p>No, Clarey told him, at first he had put up at the inn, but he found -the place noisy, the cooking poor, and the pallet covers dirty. -Besides, Hanxi had kept importuning him to go on visits to a nearby -township where he promised him a good time.</p> - -<p>"I was wondering, though," Clarey finished, "if it would be possible -for an Earthman and a Damorlant to—er—have a good time together."</p> - -<p>"Been wondering myself!" the colonel said eagerly. "I didn't dare ask -on my own behalf, but it's your job, isn't it? I'll check back with the -X-T boys on Earth. Go on with your story."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>As a resident of the inn, Clarey told Colonel Blynn, he'd found that -he was expected to join the men in the bar parlor every evening, where -they'd drink and exchange appropriate stories. But he'd choked on the -squfur and was insufficiently familiar with the local mores to be able -to appreciate the stories, let alone tell any. He'd concentrated on -smiling and agreeing with whatever anybody said, with the result that -the others began to agree with Piq that he was a bit cracked. "They -were, for the most part, polite enough to me, but I could sense the -gulf. I was a stranger, a city man, and probably a bit of a lunatic."</p> - -<p>A few of the younger ones hadn't even been polite. "They used to insult -me obliquely," Clarey went on, "and whisper things I only half-heard. I -pretended I didn't hear at all. I stood them drinks and told them what -a lovely place Katund was, so much cleaner and prettier and friendlier -than the city. That just seemed to confirm their impression that I was -an idiot."</p> - -<p>He stopped, took a sip of tea, and continued, "The females were -friendly enough, though. Every time they came into the library they'd -always stop for a chat. And they were very hospitable—invited -me to outdoor luncheons, temple gatherings, things like that. -Embelsira—she's the chief librarian—got quite annoyed because she -said they made so much noise when they all gathered round my desk."</p> - -<p>He paused and blushed. "I have an idea that—well, the ladies don't -find me unattractive. I mean they're not really ladies. That is, -they're perfect ladies; they're just not women."</p> - -<p>"I'm not a bit surprised," the colonel nodded sagely. "Very well-set-up -young fellow for a native—only natural they should take a liking to -you. And only natural the men shouldn't."</p> - -<p>Clarey gave an embarrassed grin. "One evening I was sitting in the -bar-parlor, talking to Kuqal and Gazmor, two of the older men. And then -Mundes came in; he's the town muscle boy. You know the type—one in -every tri-di series. He was rather unpleasant. I pretended to think he -was joking. I've learned to laugh like one of them. Listen." He gave a -creditable imitation of an agonized turshi.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The colonel shuddered. "I'm sure if anything would convince the chaps -back on Earth that the Damorlanti aren't human, that would do it. What -then?"</p> - -<p>"Finally he made a remark impugning the virility of librarians that I -simply could not ignore, so I emptied my mug of squfur in his face."</p> - -<p>"Stout fellow!"</p> - -<p>"I knew he'd attack me and probably beat me up, but I thought that -perhaps if I put up a show of courage they'd respect me. There was -something like that in <i>Sentries of the Sky</i> a year or so ago—but of -course you'd have missed that episode; you were up here. Anyhow, as I -expected, he hit me. And then I hit him...." He smiled reminiscently -into his cup of tea.</p> - -<p>"And then?"</p> - -<p>"I beat him," Clarey said simply. "I still can't figure out how I did -it. I think it must be because my muscles are heavier-gravity type." He -smiled again. "And I beat him good. He couldn't dance at the temple for -weeks."</p> - -<p>The colonel's jaw dropped. "He's a temple dancer?"</p> - -<p>"Chief temple dancer. I was a little worried about that, because I -didn't want to get in bad theologically. So I went to the priest and -apologized for any inconvenience I might have caused. He said not to -worry; Mundes had had it coming to him for a long time and his one -regret was that he hadn't been there to see it. Then we touched toes -and he said he liked to see a young fellow with brawn who also took -an interest in cultural pursuits like reading. He trusted I'd have a -beneficial effect on the youth of the village. And then he asked me to -fill in for Mundes as chief temple dancer until he—ah—recovered. It's -a great honor, you know!" he said sharply, as the colonel seemed more -moved to mirth than awe. "But I've never been much of a dancing man and -that's what I told him."</p> - -<p>"Very well done," the colonel said approvingly. "But you still haven't -explained where you got lodgings and a landlady."</p> - -<p>"She's Embelsira's mother. I was invited over for dinner from time -to time.... It's a local custom," he explained as Blynn's eyebrows -went up. "So, when Embelsira told me her mother happened to have a -compartment to let with meals included, I jumped at it. Blynn, you -really ought to taste those pastries of hers!"</p> - -<p>The colonel managed to divert him onto some of the other aspects of -Katundut life. When he'd finished taping everything he had to say, the -colonel gave him a list of artifacts and small-sized flora and fauna -the specialists on Earth wanted him to collect for his next trip, -providing he could do so without arousing attention or violating tabus.</p> - -<p>They shook hands. "Clarey," the colonel said, "you've done splendidly. -Earth will be proud of you. And you might bring along one or two of -those pastries, by the way."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>When Clarey got back to Katund, Embelsira and her mother gave a little -welcome home party for him. "Nothing elaborate," the widow said. "Just -a few neighbors and friends, some simple refreshments."</p> - -<p>The tiny residential dome was packed with people; the refreshments, -Clarey thought, as he munched industriously, were magnificent. But -then he'd been forced to live on Earth food for a weekend, so he was no -judge.</p> - -<p>After they'd finished eating, the young people folded the furniture, -and, while one of the boys played upon a curious instrument that was -string and percussion and brass all at once, the others danced.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus3.jpg" width="600" height="253" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Clarey made no attempt to participate. In his early youth, he'd flopped -at the Earth hops—and the Damorlanti had a distinctly more Dionysian -culture than his home world. He stood and watched them leaping and -twirling. When they'd dropped, temporarily exhausted, he made his way -over to the musician, whom he recognized as one of Piq's numerous -grandsons; this one was Rini, he thought.</p> - -<p>"Is that difficult to learn?" he asked, touching the instrument.</p> - -<p>"The ulerin is extremely difficult," the boy said importantly. "It -takes years and years of practice. And you've got to have the touch to -begin with. Not many do. All our family have the touch, my brother Irik -most of all. He's in Barshwat, studying to be a famous musician."</p> - -<p>Clarey looked at the ulerin with unmistakable wistfulness.</p> - -<p>"Care to try it?" the boy asked. "But, mind, you have to pay for any -bladders you burst."</p> - -<p>"I shall be very careful," Clarey said, taking the instrument -reverently in his hands. He had never touched a musical instrument -before—an Earth instrument would have been no less unfamiliar, no more -wonderful. Gently he began to pluck and bang and blow, in imitation of -the way the boy had done, and, though the sounds that came out didn't -have the same smoothness, still they didn't fall harshly on his ears. -The others stopped talking and listened; it would have been difficult -for them to do otherwise, as he was unable to find the muting device.</p> - -<p>"Sounds like the death wail of a hix," Piq sibilated, but he added -grudgingly, "Foreigner or not, I have to say this for him—he's got the -touch."</p> - -<p>"Yes, he's got the touch," others agreed. "You always can tell."</p> - -<p>Rini smiled at Clarey. "I believe you do. I'll teach you to play, if -you like."</p> - -<p>"I would, very much." Clarey was about to offer to pay for the lessons; -then he remembered that, though this would have been the right thing -on Earth, it would be wrong on Damorlan. "If it is not too much -trouble," he finished.</p> - -<p>"It's the kind of trouble I like." The boy twisted his nose at Clarey. -"Sometime you can hide the reserved books for me."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>After the guests had gone, Clarey insisted on helping the women with -the putting away. "Well, as long as Embelsira has a pair of brawny arms -to help her," the widow yawned, "I might as well be getting along to -my pallet. I seem to get more and more tired these days—old age, I -expect. One day I'll be so tired I'll never wake up and Embelsira'll -be alone and what'll she do, poor thing? Who can live on a librarian's -salary? Now, on two librarians' salaries—"</p> - -<p>"Mother," Embelsira interrupted furiously, "you go to bed!"</p> - -<p>She did, hurriedly.</p> - -<p>"Don't worry, Embelsira," Clarey said. "She will be weaving away for -decades yet. Everybody says she's the best weaver in the district," he -added, to change the subject.</p> - -<p>"Yes," Embelsira said as they gathered all the oddments the guests had -left, "she's been offered a lot of money to go work in Zrig. But she -won't leave Katund; she was born here, and so were her parents."</p> - -<p>"I do not blame her for wanting to stay," he said. "It's a -very—homelike place."</p> - -<p>She sighed. "To us it is, but I don't suppose someone who's city born -and bred would feel the same way. I know you won't let yourself stay -buried here forever, and what will I—what will Mother and I ever do -without you?"</p> - -<p>"It is—very kind of you to say so," he replied. "I am honored."</p> - -<p>The girl—she was still young enough to be called a girl, though -no longer in her first youth—looked up at him. Blue eyes could be -pleasing in their way. "Why are you always so stiff, so cold?"</p> - -<p>"I am not cold," he said honestly. "I am—afraid."</p> - -<p>"There is nothing to be afraid of. You're safe, among friends, no -matter what you may have done back where you came from."</p> - -<p>"But I have done nothing back there," he said. "Nothing at all. Perhaps -that is the trouble with me."</p> - -<p>She looked up at him and then away. "Then isn't it about time you -started to do something?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The next time he went to Barshwat he took a lot of luggage with him, -because, besides the artifacts and the flora and fauna, he brought -cold pastries for the colonel. The colonel ate one in silence, then -said, "Try to get the recipe."</p> - -<p>"By the way," said Clarey, "the X-T boys made a few mistakes. The bugg -isn't an insect; it's a bird. And the lule isn't a bird; it's a flower. -And the paparun isn't a flower; it's an insect."</p> - -<p>"Oh, well, I guess they'll be able to straighten that out," the colonel -said, licking crumbs from his thick fingers. "We do our jobs and they -do theirs." He reached for another pastry.</p> - -<p>"Take good care of the bugg," Clarey said. "He likes his morning seed -mixed with milk; his evening seed with wine. His name is Mirti. He's -very tame and affectionate. I—said I was bringing him to my aunt...." -He paused. "You <i>are</i> going to take him back alive, aren't you? You'd -get so much more information that way."</p> - -<p>"Wouldn't dream of hurting a hair—a feather—no, it is a hair, isn't -it?—of the little fellow's head."</p> - -<p>Clarey looked out of the window at the purple night sky. Then he -turned back to the colonel. "I've been taking music lessons," he said -defiantly.</p> - -<p>"Fine! Every man should have a hobby!"</p> - -<p>"But I've no music license."</p> - -<p>"Come now, Clarey. You still don't seem to realize you're on Damorlan, -not Earth. Not a blooded intelligence man yet! There aren't any guilds -on Damorlan, so enjoy yourself."</p> - -<p>"Speaking of that, did you find out about—er—Earthmen and—"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I'd meant to drop you a note, but it seemed rather odd -information for your aunt to be giving you. It's absolutely all right, -old chap. Go ahead, have your bit of fun."</p> - -<p>Clarey was unreasonably annoyed. "I wasn't thinking of what you're -thinking. I mean—well, Katund is a village and the native morality is -very strict in these matters."</p> - -<p>"Afraid I don't quite follow you."</p> - -<p>Clarey bit his finger. "Well," he finally admitted, "the truth of the -matter is I'd like to get married."</p> - -<p>The colonel was extremely surprised. "A legal arrangement! Is it -absolutely necessary? How about the females that the innkeeper's so -anxious to have you—ah—meet?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Clarey didn't know how to explain. "Their standards of cleanliness...." -he began, and stopped. Then he started again: "I suppose I'd like a -permanent companion."</p> - -<p>"I don't suppose there's any real reason why you shouldn't enter into -a legal liaison while you're here," said the colonel. "After all, it -isn't as if the two races could interbreed. That could be decidedly -awkward. Who's the lucky little lady?"</p> - -<p>"My landlady's daughter," Clarey said.</p> - -<p>"Your boss, eh? Flying high, aren't you, old chap?" His massive hand -descended on Clarey's shoulder. Then he grew serious. "Can she cook -like her mother?"</p> - -<p>"Even better."</p> - -<p>"My boy," the colonel said solemnly, "you have my unqualified blessing. -And when I ask you to save me a piece of the wedding cake, I ask from -the heart."</p> - -<p>So, when Clarey went back to Katund, he asked Embelsira to marry him -and she accepted. The whole village turned out for the wedding. Clarey -managed to take some vocpix of the ceremonies for the X-Ts with a -finger unit. I ought to get a handsome wedding present for this, he -thought.</p> - -<p>And, to his surprise, on the wedding day, an elaborate jewel-studded -toilet service did arrive from Barshwat—with the affectionate regards -of his aunt, who was too ill to travel. They tie up everything, he -thought, but he knew it was a little more than simply remembering -to pick up a loose end. The toilet set was vulgar, ostentatious, -hideous—obviously selected with loving care and Terrestrial taste.</p> - -<p>Everybody in Katund and a lot of people from the surrounding country -came to look at it. It seemed to establish his eligibility beyond a -doubt. "Never thought 'Belsira'd do it, and at her age, too," Piq was -heard to comment. "But it looks like she really got herself a catch. -What's a little weakness in the dome-top when there's money, too?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The first three years of Clarey's marriage were happy ones. He and -Embelsira got on very nicely together and, since he was fond of her -mother, he didn't mind her constant presence too much. Once a week -he took a ulerin lesson from Rini. He practiced assiduously and made -progress that he himself could see was sensational. He did wish that -Rini would accept money; it would have been so much less of a nuisance -than replacing the music books the boy stole from the library, but he -couldn't expect local customs to coincide with his own. The money, of -course, didn't matter; he still wasn't living up to his allowance, -although he was beginning to spread himself on elaborate custom-made -cloaks and tunics. On Earth he had dressed soberly, according to his -status, but here he felt entitled to cut a dash.</p> - -<p>At the colonel's request, on his next trip to Barshwat he brought his -ulerin and taped some native melodies. "I like 'em," the colonel said, -nodding his head emphatically. "Catchy, very catchy. Hope the X-Ts -appreciate them; they don't usually like music if it sounds at all -human." And, catching the look on Clarey's face, "Well, you know what I -mean. To them, if a tune can be hummed, it isn't authentic."</p> - -<p>News of Clarey's skill on the ulerin spread through the countryside. -When he played in the temple concerts, people sometimes came from as -far away as Zrig to hear him. Clarey was a little disturbed about this, -because he didn't subscribe to the local faith. But the high priest -said, "My son, music knows no religious boundaries. Besides, when you -play, we always get three times as much in the collection nets."</p> - -<p>At the time Clarey got word from Barshwat that General Spano and the -staff ship were expected shortly, he had risen to the post of chief -librarian. Embelsira had retired to keep dome and wait for the young -ones who would, of course, never come. Clarey had hired a hixhead of -an assistant from Zrig to assist him; he saw now why the village had -originally been grateful to get even a foreigner of doubtful background -for the job.</p> - -<p>"I'm going to have to stay at least a week with Aunt Askush this time," -he told his wife. "Legal matters. I think she's drawing up a will or -some such," he added, hoping that this would keep Embelsira happy and -convinced.</p> - -<p>Maybe it worked too well. "But why can't I come with you? I've always -wanted so much to meet her."</p> - -<p>"I keep telling you her illness is a disfiguring one; she won't meet -strangers. And don't say you're not a stranger—you'd understand, but -she's the one who wouldn't. Please don't nag me, Belsir."</p> - -<p>"Sometimes I think you're a stranger, Balt," Embelsira declared -emotionally.</p> - -<p>"Yes, dear, I'm a stranger, anything you say, but let me get packed." -He started folding a robe crookedly, hoping it would distract her into -taking over the job.</p> - -<p>But she leaned against the lintel, staring at him. "Balt, sometimes I -wonder if you really have an aunt."</p> - -<p>The only thing he allowed himself to do was put down the robe he was -holding. "Do you think I send expensive toilet sets to myself? You must -think Piq's right—I'm just plain crazy."</p> - -<p>"Piq doesn't think you're crazy any more. He and the other old ones say -you have a woman in Barshwat. But I don't believe that!"</p> - -<p>"Maybe I do, Embelsira. A man's a man, even if he is a librarian."</p> - -<p>"I know it isn't true. I think it's ... something else entirely. You're -so strange sometimes, Balt. How could somebody who comes only from the -other side of the same world be so strange?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He forced a grin. "Suddenly you've become very cosmic. What do you know -of our—of the world? It's a big place. And nobody else in Katund seems -to be so impressed by my strangeness; they think a foreigner's entitled -to his queer ways."</p> - -<p>"Nobody in Katund knows you as well as I do. And I've seen foreigners -before. They're not different in the way you are." She looked intently -at him. "It's not a shameful kind of strangeness, just a ... strange -kind of strangeness. Fascinating in its way—I don't want you to think -I just married the first stranger who came along...."</p> - -<p>"I'm sure you had many offers, dear. Come, help me fold this cloak or -I'll never make the bus."</p> - -<p>"You know what I'm reminded of?" she said, coming forward and taking -the cloak. "Of the old tale about the lovely village maiden who marries -the handsome stranger and promises she'll never look into his eyes. And -then one day she forgets and looks into his eyes and sees—"</p> - -<p>"What does she see?"</p> - -<p>"The worst thing of all, the greatest horror. She sees nothing. She -sees emptiness."</p> - -<p>He laughed. "The moral's clear. She shouldn't have looked into his -eyes."</p> - -<p>"But how can you help looking into the eyes of the man you love? Maybe -that's the moral—that it was an impossible task he set her."</p> - -<p>"In those tales it's always the man's fault, isn't it? Not much doubt -who made them up. Now, Belsir, please, I've got to finish packing. -It'll be just my luck to have today be the day the bus to Zrig's on -time."</p> - -<p>"A couple of weeks ago I was in Zrig shopping and I saw an Earthman," -she said, folding his cloak into the kit. "The way he walked, the way -he moved, reminded me a little of you."</p> - -<p>It was a long moment before he could speak. "Do I look to you like a -dark-faced, dark-haired, brown-eyed—"</p> - -<p>"I didn't <i>say</i> you were an Earthman! But if Earthmen can travel -through the sky, they might be able to do other things, too; maybe -even change the way a man looks."</p> - -<p>He snapped the kit-fastener. "If you really believe that, you should be -careful. Creatures as clever as that might be able to pluck your words -from my brain."</p> - -<p>"What if they did? I'm not ashamed. Or afraid, either."</p> - -<p>He reached out and patted her arm. Maybe she wasn't afraid, but he was. -For her. And for the people of Damorlan. If there was a deep-probe on -the staff ship.... If only something could happen to him, so he could -never reach Barshwat ... Spano wouldn't know. He might guess, but he -wouldn't know. He'd have to start all over again—and maybe things -would turn out better next time.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>General Spano and his secretary were waiting in Blynn's office. Clarey -stretched out his foot in greeting, then recollected himself and -reached out his hand. "You see, sir," he said with a too-hearty laugh, -"I'm really living my part."</p> - -<p>Spano beamed. "Damorlan certainly seems to agree with you, my boy. You -look positively blooming. Doesn't he, Han?"</p> - -<p>She nodded grave agreement.</p> - -<p>The general sniffed. "What's that you two are smoking?"</p> - -<p>"Marac leaves," Clarey said. "A native product. Care to try one?" He -extended his pouch to Spano.</p> - -<p>"Don't mind if I do," the general said, taking a roll. "Which part do -you light? And why don't you offer one to Secretary Vollard?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, sorry; I didn't think of it. The women here don't use it. Care to -try one, Secretary?" As she took a roll, she looked at him searchingly. -She was still beautiful in an Amazonian way, but he preferred -Embelsira's way. He could never imagine Han Vollard warm and tender.</p> - -<p>"Well, Clarey," Spano said, "you seem to be doing a splendid job. I've -been absolutely enthralled by your reports." He settled himself behind -Blynn's desk. "Pity the information's top secret. It could make a -fortune on the tri-dis."</p> - -<p>Clarey bowed.</p> - -<p>"And those musictapes you sent back created quite a stir. We've brought -along some superior equipment. The rig here is good enough for routine -work, but we need better fidelity for this. And it would be appreciated -if the colonel didn't beat time with his foot while you played—no -offense, Blynn."</p> - -<p>He turned back to Clarey. "Do you think you can pick up some of those -what-do-you-call-'ems—ulerins—for us, too, or is there a tabu of -some kind?"</p> - -<p>"Not ulerins," Clarey corrected, "uleran. And you can walk up to any -marketplace and get as many as you like—providing you have the cash, -of course."</p> - -<p>"I <i>told</i> you the job had musical overtones. I'll bet that makes up for -some of the discomforts and privations."</p> - -<p>"It's not too uncomfortable."</p> - -<p>"There speaks a true patriot!" Spano approved.</p> - -<p>Han measured Clarey with her eyes. "You're quiet, Secretary," he said -nervously. "You used to talk a lot more."</p> - -<p>Blynn stared at him. She smiled. "You're the one who has things to tell -now, Clarey."</p> - -<p>"And show," the general said, almost licking his lips. "Every one of -your tapes made my mouth fairly water. I trust you brought an ample and -varied supply of those delicacies."</p> - -<p>Clarey's smile was unforced this time. "I got your message and I -brought along a large hamperful, but it'll be hard to make the people -back home keep thinking my aunt's an invalid if she eats like a team of -hax. My wife baked some pastries, which I especially recommend to your -attention."</p> - -<p>"I think we ought to get business over before we start on -refreshments," Han suggested.</p> - -<p>"Yes," Spano agreed reluctantly. "I suppose you had better be -deep-probed first, Clarey.... Not even one taste beforehand, Han?... -Well, I suppose not."</p> - -<p>Clarey tensed. "You've got a probe on the ship?" he asked, as if the -possibility had never occurred to him.</p> - -<p>"That's right," Han Vollard said. "It's an up-to-date model. The whole -thing'll take you less than an hour, and we'll have the information -collated by morning."</p> - -<p>"I—I would prefer not to be deep-probed. You never can tell: it might -upset all the conditioning I've received here; it—"</p> - -<p>"Let us worry about that, Clarey," she said.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He didn't sleep that night. He sat looking out of the window, knowing -there was nothing he could do. Embelsira was in danger—her people were -in danger—and he couldn't lift a finger to save them.</p> - -<p>When he came down to breakfast, he saw that the reports had been -collated and read. "So your wife suspects, does she?" the general -asked. "Shrewd little creature. You must have picked one of the more -intelligent ones."</p> - -<p>Clarey struggled on the pin. "Wives often have strange fancies about -their husbands. You mustn't take it too seriously."</p> - -<p>"How often have you been married, Clarey?" Han asked. "Or even linked -in liaison? How many married people did you know well back on Earth?"</p> - -<p>There was no need to answer; she knew all the answers.</p> - -<p>"I think Clarey did a rattling good job," Blynn said stoutly. "It -wasn't his fault that she suspects."</p> - -<p>"Of course not!" the general agreed. "Feminine intuition isn't -restricted to human females. In fact, in some female ilfs it's even -stronger than in humans. The precognitive faculties in the grua, for -example—"</p> - -<p>"What are you going to do?" Clarey interrupted bluntly.</p> - -<p>Han Vollard answered him: "Nothing yet. You've got us a lot of -information, but it's not enough. You'll have to keep on as you are for -another three years or so."</p> - -<p>It was all Clarey could do to keep from trembling visibly with relief.</p> - -<p>"It doesn't even matter too much that one of the natives suspects," Han -went on, "as long as she doesn't definitely know."</p> - -<p>"She doesn't," Clarey said, "and she won't. And she won't tell anybody; -she'd be afraid for me." But he wasn't all that sure. The Damorlanti -didn't hate Earthmen and they didn't fear them, and so Embelsira -wouldn't think it was a shameful thing to be. He was glad he'd already -been deep-probed. At least this thought would be safe for three years -or so.</p> - -<p>"At any rate, they don't seem antagonistic toward Earthmen," the -general said, almost as if he'd read part of Clarey's mind. "I think -that's nice."</p> - -<p>Han Vollard looked at him. "It's not their attitude toward us that -matters. They couldn't do anything if they tried. It's what they are -that matters, what they will be that matters even more."</p> - -<p>"I take back what I said before!" Clarey flared. "You talk too damn -much!"</p> - -<p>There was a chilling silence.</p> - -<p>"Nerves," said Blynn nervously. "Every agent lets go when he's back -among his own kind. Nothing but release of tension."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Several days later the staff ship was ready to go back to Earth. "Don't -forget to tell your wife how much I enjoyed the pies," Spano said; -then, "Oh, I was forgetting; you could hardly do that. But do see if -you can work out something with the dehydro-freeze. I'd hate to have -to wait three years before tasting them again. You can keep your marac -rolls, though; I'll take my smoke-sticks."</p> - -<p>"Try not to get any more involved, Clarey," Han Vollard said as they -stood outside the airlock. "Maybe you ought to move on—to a city, -perhaps, another country—"</p> - -<p>"When I want your advice, I'll ask for it!" he snapped.</p> - -<p>After they'd gone, Blynn turned on him. "Man, you must be out of your -mind, talking to Secretary Vollard like that."</p> - -<p>"Why does she have to keep meddling? It's none of her business—"</p> - -<p>"None of her business! Secretary of the Space Service, and you say it's -none of her business?"</p> - -<p>Clarey blinked. "I thought she was Spano's secretary."</p> - -<p>Blynn laughed until the tears dampened his dark cheeks. "Spano's only -Head of Intelligence. She's his Mistress."</p> - -<p>"Of course—<i>mistress</i>, feminine of <i>master</i>! I should have realized -that before." Then Clarey laughed, too. "I'm a real all-round alien. I -can't even understand my own language."</p> - -<p>On the way back home he couldn't help thinking that Han Vollard might -be right. It could be the best thing for him to disappear now; the best -thing for himself, the best thing for Embelsira. He could pretend to -desert her—better yet, Blynn could fake some kind of accident, so her -feelings wouldn't be hurt. A pension of some kind would be arranged. -She could marry again, have the children she wanted so much. If he -waited the full ten years, she might never be able to have them. He had -no idea at what age Damorlant females ceased to be fertile.</p> - -<p>But she wasn't just a Damorlant female—she was his wife. He didn't -want to leave her. Maybe he never would have to. Hadn't Spano said that -when his term was over he could pick his planet? He would pick Damorlan.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>When Clarey came home from Barshwat, Embelsira said nothing more about -her suspicions, but greeted him affectionately and prepared a special -supper for him. Afterward, he wondered if making love to an Earth girl -could be as pleasant. He wondered how it would be to make love to Han -Vollard.</p> - -<p>The days passed and he forgot about Han Vollard. After much persuasion, -he agreed to give a series of concerts at Zrig, but only on condition -that Rini played with him and had one solo each performance. He was -embarrassed at having so far outstripped his teacher, but Rini seemed -unperturbed.</p> - -<p>"My technique's still better than yours will ever be," he said. "It's -this new style of yours that gets 'em. I understand it's spreading; -it's reached as far as Barshwat. You should see the angry letters Irik -writes about it!" Rini chuckled. "And he hasn't the least idea it -started right here in his own home village that he's always sneered at -for being so backward!"</p> - -<p>Clarey smiled and clapped the boy on the neck. If it made Rini feel -better to think Clarey had a new style rather than that Clarey played -better than he did, Clarey had no objection.</p> - -<p>Clarey was offered the post of head librarian at Zrig, but Embelsira -didn't want to leave Katund, and, when he thought about it, he really -didn't want to either. So he refused the job and didn't bother -mentioning the matter to Headquarters.</p> - -<p>As he grew more sure of himself and his position, he allowed his wealth -to show. He and Embelsira moved into a larger dome. Instead of sending -to Zrig or even Barshwat for the furnishings, they hired local talent. -Tavan, the carpenter, made them some exquisite blackwood pieces inlaid -with opalescent stone that everyone said was the equal of anything -in Barshwat. A talented nephew of Hanxi's painted glowing murals; -Embelsira's mother wove rugs and draperies in muted water-tones. The -dome became the district showplace. Clarey realized he now had -a position to keep up, but sometimes it annoyed him when perfect -strangers asked to see the place.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus4.jpg" width="369" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>He was invited to run against Malesor as headman but declined. He -didn't want to be brought into undue prominence. Trouble was, as he -became popular, he also aroused animosity. There were the girls who -felt he should have married them instead of Embelsira, and their -mothers and subsequent husbands. A lot of people resented Clarey -because they felt he should have decorated his house differently, -dressed differently, spent his money differently.</p> - -<p>A man can live ignored by everyone, he discovered, but he can't be -liked by some without finding himself disliked by others.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Matters came to a head in his fourth spring there. He thought of it as -spring, although on Damorlan the seasons had no separate identities; -they blended into one another, without its ever being very hot or very -cold, very rainy or very dry. The reason he called this time of the -year spring was that it seemed closest to perfection.</p> - -<p>It was less perfect that year. Because it was then that Rini's brother -Irik came back from Barshwat, after a six years' absence. He was very -much the city man, far more so than anyone Clarey had seen in Barshwat -itself. His tunics were shorter than his fellow villagers', and his -cloaks iridesced restlessly from one vivid color to another. He wore a -great deal of jewelry and perfume, neither of the best quality, and the -toes of his boots were divided.</p> - -<p>Clarey described this in detail to Embelsira the night Irik put in -his first appearance at the Furbush. "You should have seen the little -horror!"</p> - -<p>"That's the way city men dress," Embelsira told him. "It's fashionable."</p> - -<p>"But, dear, I've been to Barshwat."</p> - -<p>"You don't have an eye for clothes. You never notice when I put on -anything new. And I think it's unfair to take a dislike to Irik just -because you don't care for the way he dresses."</p> - -<p>"It's more than that, Belsira." And yet how could he explain to her -what he couldn't quite understand himself, that Irik was vain, stupid, -hostile; hence, dangerous?</p> - -<p>"I swear to you, Balt," Embelsira said demurely, "that whatever there -was between me and Irik, it all ended six years ago."</p> - -<p>Clarey gave a start and then held back a smile. "I believe you, dear." -And he kissed her nose.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Irik held forth in the Furbush every evening of his stay in Katund. He -had grievances and he aired them generously. He hated everything—the -government, taxes, modern music, and Earthmen, whom he seemed to -consider in some way responsible for the modern music, or at least its -popularization. "Barbarians—slept completely through my concerts."</p> - -<p>"But people are always falling asleep during concerts, Irik," Malesor -pointed out reasonably. "And how could you expect barbarians to -appreciate good music? What do you care for Earthmen's opinions as long -as your own people like your music?"</p> - -<p>Irik hesitated. "But the Earthmen have taken up the new kind of music; -they stay awake during that. And—a lot of people seem to think that -whatever's strange is good, so whatever the Earthmen like eventually -becomes fashionable."</p> - -<p>Hanxi wiggled his ears. "Fashions change. Well, who's ready to have his -mug refilled?"</p> - -<p>"But the Earthmen will keep on setting the fashions," Irik snarled. -"Many people think the Earthmen know everything, just because they're -aloof and have sky cars."</p> - -<p>"Well," Malesor said, "the sky cars certainly prove they know -something we don't. Better stick to your music, boy."</p> - -<p>The smoky little bar-parlor resounded with laughter and Irik's face -turned a nasty red. "They don't know anything about music and they -don't know everything about machinery. We might surprise them yet. A -friend of mine knows Guhak, the fellow who invented that new brake for -the track car a few years ago."</p> - -<p>"We know about that brake," Piq observed. "It stops a car so good, the -chains are twice as late nowadays as they used to be, and you couldn't -strictly say they were ever on time."</p> - -<p>Everybody laughed again. Irik quivered with anger. "Guhak has invented -a car that doesn't need to go on tracks. It can run <i>whenever</i> it wants -<i>wherever</i> it wants. And one car will be able to go faster than three -hax teams."</p> - -<p>"That I'll believe when I've ridden on it," Kuqal grinned. "Even -the chains aren't that fast." The others bit their thumbs and -nodded—except Clarey, who was rigidly keeping out of the conversation. -He forced squfur down his tightening throat and said nothing.</p> - -<p>"You're backward clods!" Irik raged. "If the Earthmen can have cars -that go through the sky without tracks why shouldn't we have cars that -run on the ground the same way? Have we tried?"</p> - -<p>"Doesn't seem to me it's worth the effort," Malesor said. "Our cars can -get us where we're going as fast as we need to go already, why bother?"</p> - -<p>"Whatever an Earthman can do, we can do better! Soon Guhak will get his -ground cars on the road. After that, it'll only be a short step to cars -that go in the sky. Then we'll find out where the Earthmen come from -and why they're here. We'll be as powerful as they are. We'll get rid -of them and their rotten music."</p> - -<p>The bar parlor was silent, except for the clink as Clarey put his mug -on the table. If he held it an instant longer, he was afraid he would -spill it. One or two of the men looked at him uneasily out of the -corners of their eyes. Malesor spoke: "In the first place, you don't -know how powerful Earthmen are. In the second place, who wants to be -powerful, anyway? The Earthmen haven't done us any harm and they're a -good thing for the economy. My cousin in Zrig tells me one of 'em come -into his store a coupla months ago and bought out his whole stock, -every bolt of cloth. Paid twice what it was worth, too. Live and let -live, I say."</p> - -<p>The others murmured restlessly.</p> - -<p>"If there are ways of doing things better," Rini suggested, "why -shouldn't we have them, too?" His eyes darted quickly toward Clarey's -and then as quickly away.</p> - -<p>Irik turned his head and looked directly at Clarey for the first time. -"You're silent, stranger. What do <i>you</i> think of the Earthmen?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Clarey picked up his drink, finished the squfur and set the mug back -down on the table. "I don't know much about Earthmen. An ugly-looking -lot, true, but there doesn't seem to be any harm in them. Of course, -living in Barshwat, you probably know a lot more about them than I do."</p> - -<p>"I doubt that," Irik said. "You have an aunt in Barshwat."</p> - -<p>Clarey allowed himself to look surprised before he said courteously, -"I'm glad you find me and my family so interesting. Yes, it so happens -I do have an aunt there, but she's rather advanced in years and doesn't -enjoy hanging around the starship field the way the children do."</p> - -<p>Irik's face darkened. "What is your aunt's name?"</p> - -<p>This time everyone looked surprised. The question itself was not too -out-of-the-way, but his tone decidedly was.</p> - -<p>"She's a great-grandmother," Clarey said. "She would be too old for -you. And I assure you it's difficult to part her from her money. I've -tried."</p> - -<p>Everybody laughed. Irik was furious. "I understand that your aunt lives -very close to Earth Headquarters!"</p> - -<p>Somebody must have followed him on one or more of his trips to -Barshwat, Clarey realized. "If the Earthmen chose to establish -themselves in the best residential section of Barshwat, then probably -my aunt does live near them. She's not the type to leave a comfortable -dome simply because foreigners move into the neighborhood."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps she has more than neighborhood in common with Earthmen."</p> - -<p>The room was suddenly very quiet again.</p> - -<p>"She does sometimes go to sleep at concerts," Clarey conceded.</p> - -<p>Irik opened his mouth. Malesor held up a hand. "Before you say anything -more against the Earthmen, Irik," he advised, "you oughta find out more -about them. Their cars move faster and higher than ours. Maybe their -catapults do, too."</p> - -<p>No one looked at Clarey. Malesor had averted a showdown, he knew, but -this was the beginning of the end. And he had a suspicion who was -responsible—innocently perhaps, perhaps not. Love does not always -imply trust. And when he told Embelsira what had happened in the -Furbush, she, too, couldn't meet his eye. "That Irik," she said, "I -never liked him."</p> - -<p>"I wonder how he knows so much about me."</p> - -<p>"Rini writes him very often," she babbled. "He must have told him you -were responsible for the new music. That would make him hate you. Rini -likes to irritate Irik, because he's always been jealous of him. But -the whole thing's silly. How could you possibly make over the world's -music, even if you were—" Her voice ran down.</p> - -<p>"An Earthman?" he finished coldly. "I suppose you went around telling -everybody your suspicions, and Rini wrote that to Irik, too?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"I didn't tell anybody!" she protested indignantly. "Not a soul!" She -met his eye. "Except Mother, of course."</p> - -<p>"Your mother! You might as well have published it in the District -Bulletin!"</p> - -<p>"You have no right to speak of Mother like that, even if it's true!" -Embelsira began to sob. "I had to tell her, Balt—she kept asking why -there weren't any young ones."</p> - -<p>"You could've told her to mind her own business!" he snapped, before -he could catch himself. Five years, and he still made slips. It was -her business. On Damorlan, it was a woman's duty not only to have -children but to see that her children had children and their children -had children.</p> - -<p>He made himself look grave and self-reproachful. "I have a confession -to make, Belsir. I should have told you when I married you. I can't -have children."</p> - -<p>"I never heard of such a thing! Everybody has children—unless they're -not married, of course," she added primly.</p> - -<p>"It's an affliction sent by the gods."</p> - -<p>"The gods would never do anything like that!" she declared confidently.</p> - -<p>How primitive she is, he thought, and, then, angrily, how provincial I -am! He had never stopped to think about it, but he knew of no married -couple who had not at least one offspring; he and Embelsira were the -only ones. It hadn't occurred to the X-T specialists that a species -whose biological assets were roughly the same might have different -handicaps. Apparently there was no such thing as sterility on Damorlan.</p> - -<p>"Are you really an Earthman, then, Balt?" she asked timidly.</p> - -<p>She had spread the news around, ruined him, ruined the work Earth had -been doing, perhaps ruined even more than that—and she hadn't even -been sure to begin with. But it was too late for recriminations. He -had to salvage what little he could—time, maybe; that was all.</p> - -<p>"Are you going to tell?" he asked.</p> - -<p>She hesitated. "Do you swear you don't mean my people any harm?"</p> - -<p>"I swear," he said.</p> - -<p>"Then I swear not to tell," she said.</p> - -<p>He kissed her. After all, he thought, it isn't a lie. <i>I</i> don't mean -her people any harm. Besides, sooner or later, her mother will get it -out of her, so she won't be keeping her part of the bargain.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The next time he went to Barshwat he knew he would be followed. He -tried to shake the follower or followers off, but he couldn't be sure -he'd succeeded.</p> - -<p>He found the colonel looking out of the window with an expression of -quiet melancholy. If there had been any Earthwomen on Damorlan, Clarey -would have thought he'd been crossed in love.</p> - -<p>"Things are taking a bad turn, Clarey," Blynn said. "There have been -certain manifestations of hostility from the natives. Get any hint of -it?"</p> - -<p>"No," Clarey said, taking his usual chair, "not a whisper."</p> - -<p>The colonel sat down heavily. "Katund's too out of the way. We -should've moved you to a city once you'd got the feel of things. But -you do go to Zrig occasionally. Haven't you heard anything there?"</p> - -<p>"Only that an Earthman bought out a cloth merchant's entire stock at -one blow."</p> - -<p>Blynn grinned weakly. "Maybe it was rather an ostentatious thing to do, -but the fabric's beautiful stuff."</p> - -<p>He rubbed his nose reflectively. "Fact is, I've been hearing disturbing -rumors. They say some fellow named Kuhak's invented a ground car that -can run without tracks."</p> - -<p>Clarey almost said "Guhak," but caught himself in time. "Nonsense," he -scoffed. "The more I know of them, the more surprised I am they ever -got as far as inventing the chains."</p> - -<p>"But they did, no getting around that. This is what Earth's afraid of, -you know," he reminded Clarey—unnecessarily. "This is why you were -sent here. And, if the rumor's true, it looks as if you weren't needed -at all. I got the bad news by myself."</p> - -<p>"But why should it be that upsetting?" Clarey tried to laugh. "You look -as if it were the end of the world."</p> - -<p>The colonel gave him a long, level look. "I consider that remark in the -worst of taste."</p> - -<p>Clarey stopped laughing.</p> - -<p>"Remember," the colonel reminded Clarey, again unnecessarily, "this is -the way we ourselves got started."</p> - -<p>"But the Damorlanti don't have to move in the same direction. They may -look human and even act human, but they don't think human."</p> - -<p>The colonel clasped his hands behind his head and sighed. "There have -been articles against us in the paper, and whenever we go out in the -street people—natives, I mean—make nasty remarks and sometimes even -faces at us. And what have we done to them? Carefully minded our own -business, avoided all cultural contacts except for trade purposes, paid -them much more than the going price for their goods, and gave them one -or two tips on health and sanitation. As a result, they're beginning to -hate us."</p> - -<p>"But if you send a report, it'll bring the staff ship in ahead of time. -Maybe the whole thing'll blow over. This way, you're not giving it a -chance to."</p> - -<p>The colonel chewed his lip. "Well," he finally said, "I might as well -wait and see if the rumor's verified before I report it."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Clarey went back to Katund. The months went by. The friendly atmosphere -in the Furbush had vanished, and not as many people stopped and -chatted when they came to the library. But there wasn't any actual -incident until the evening Clarey was walking home after late night at -the library and a stone struck him between the shoulder-blades. "Dirty -Earthman!" a voice called, and several pairs of feet scuttled off.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus5.jpg" width="470" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>He didn't mention the incident to Embelsira, not wanting to worry her, -but the next morning he went to the Village Dome and informed Malesor. -"Very bad," the headman muttered. "<i>Very</i> bad. Whoever did it will be -punished."</p> - -<p>"You won't be able to catch them," Clarey said, "and there'd be no -point in punishment, anyway. Look at it like this, Mal. Suppose I had -been an Earthman, don't you see how dangerous this would be, not for me -but for you? Can't you imagine the inevitable results?"</p> - -<p>Malesor nodded. "The Earthmen's catapults do go farther and faster, -then?"</p> - -<p>"And maybe deeper," Clarey agreed, pretending not to notice that it had -been a question. "After the way Irik talked, I couldn't help drifting -over to the starfield when I was in Barshwat and watching an Earth ship -come. You've no idea how incredibly powerful a thing it was. Anyone -who has power in one direction is likely to have it in another."</p> - -<p>"I wonder if the Earthmen always had power," Malesor mused, "if they -weren't like us once. If, given time, we couldn't be like them...."</p> - -<p>Clarey didn't say anything.</p> - -<p>Malesor's pale face turned gray. "You mean we might not be given time?"</p> - -<p>Clarey wiggled his ears. "Who can tell what's in the mind of an -Earthman?"</p> - -<p>Malesor looked directly at him. "Why do you tell me this?"</p> - -<p>"Because I'm one of you," Clarey said stoutly.</p> - -<p>Malesor shook his head. "You're not. You never can be. But thanks for -the warning—stranger."</p> - -<p><i>Never identify</i>, the robocoach had said. <i>You'll never be able to -become the character you're trying to play.</i> He was talking only of the -stage, Clarey told himself angrily, as he left the Dome.</p> - -<p>Reports trickled in from the cities. Earthmen had been stoned twice in -Zrig, more often than that in Barshwat. Clarey got an agitated letter -from his aunt. "Watch out for yourself, Nephew," she warned. "They may -take it into their heads to attack all foreigners. Remember, come what -may, you'll always have a home with me."</p> - -<p>Then everything broke open. A group of natives attacked Earth -Headquarters in Barshwat. The Earthmen sprayed them with a gas which -made the attackers lose consciousness without harming them; that is, it -was intended to work that way. However, one of them hit his head on the -wall when he fell, and he died the next day.</p> - -<p>The people of Vintnor were aroused. They milled angrily around Earth -Headquarters carrying banners that said, "Go home, Earth murderers!" -The headman of Barshwat called upon Colonel Blynn. The colonel -courteously refused to withdraw his men from the planet. "I'm under -orders, old chap," he said, "but I'll report your request back to -Earth."</p> - -<p>"It isn't a request," the headman said.</p> - -<p>Colonel Blynn smiled and said, "We'll treat it as one, shall we?"</p> - -<p>Clarey knew what happened, because the headman gave a report of the -conversation to the Barshwat Prime Bulletin. He also got a letter from -his aunt describing the incident as vividly as if she had been there -herself. The Barshwat Prime ran a series of increasingly intemperate -editorials calling upon all the nations of Damorlan to unite against -the Earthmen; it was spirit that counted, it said, rather than -technology. Malesor wrote a letter asking how superior spiritual values -could compete against presumably superior weapons. He read it aloud -in the Purple Furbush before he sent it to the editor of the Barshwat -Prime, which was lucky, because the Prime never printed it, although -the Dordonec Bulletin ran a copy.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>However, the Barshwat Prime did print letters from editors in different -countries. All of them pledged firm moral support. It also printed a -letter from an anonymous correspondent in Katund which alleged that -there was an Earth spy in that village, disguised as a Damorlant, and -it was this spy who was personally responsible for the decline of -musical taste on the whole planet. But the Bulletin seemed to consider -this merely as an emanation from the lunatic fringe: "It would be as -easy to disguise a hix as one of us as an Earthman. And, although we -could certainly not minimize the importance of music in our culture, -it is hardly likely that Earth would be attempting to achieve fell -purposes through undermining that art. No, the decline in musical taste -represents part of the general decline in public morality which has -left us an easy prey."</p> - -<p>Irik went back to Barshwat to help riot, but he left the Katundi -convinced that Clarey was, if not actually an Earthman, at least a -traitor. When he came into the Furbush, everybody got up and left. -Nobody patronized the branch library any more. The constant readers -went to the main library at Zrig, and, since the trip was expensive, -their books were usually overdue and they had to pay substantial fines. -Sometimes they never returned the books at all and messengers had to -be sent from the city. Finally the chief librarian at Zrig issued a -regulation that only those resident within the city limits could take -books out; all others in the district had to read them on the premises. -The Katundi blamed that on Clarey, too. One night they broke into his -library and stole all the best-sellers.</p> - -<p>A couple of days later, he came home and found all the windows of his -dome broken. Best-sellers are often disappointing, he thought. He found -a note from Embelsira, saying, "I have gone home to Mother."</p> - -<p>He knew she expected him to go after her, but he wrote her a note -saying he was going to see his aunt who was terrified by all the riots, -and put it in the mail, so she wouldn't get it too soon. He packed his -kit with his most important possessions and he took his ulerin under -his arm.</p> - -<p>When he reached Barshwat, he had some difficulty getting through the -crowd in front of Earth Headquarters. All the windows were boarded up -and the garbage hadn't been collected for a considerable length of -time. Just as he reached the door, a familiar voice called, "That's the -Earth spy!"</p> - -<p>"Don't be silly!" another voice said. "He's obviously one of us!"</p> - -<p>"But a traitor!" cried another voice. "Otherwise why go in there?" -Stones splattered against the door, followed by impartial cries of -"Spy!... Traitor!... Fool!" the last seemingly addressed to each other, -rather than Clarey.</p> - -<p>Blynn was haggard and anxious-looking "I've been wondering when you'd -show up. Afraid maybe they'd got you—"</p> - -<p>"I'm all right," Clarey interrupted. "But what are we going to do?"</p> - -<p>Blynn laughed without stopping for a full minute. "Do? I'll tell you -what we're going to do. We're going to sit tight and wait for the staff -ship."</p> - -<p>Two months later the staff ship came. Blynn radioed for the general and -the secretary to come in a closed ground car.</p> - -<p>"But why?" the general's voice crackled plaintively over the com-unit. -"I thought we didn't want them to know about ground cars—"</p> - -<p>"They know," Blynn said crisply. "They've got one of their own now, -maybe more. Crazy-looking thing, but it works. You'll see it outside -Headquarters when you get here. The letters on the side mean 'Earthmen, -Go!' Form imperative impolite emphatic."</p> - -<p>Han Vollard strode into Headquarters, eyes ablaze. "Why didn't you -send a report before trouble started? How could you allow an emergency -situation to happen?"</p> - -<p>Neither Blynn nor Clarey said anything.</p> - -<p>"Very distressing thing," Spano declared. "Maybe it hit them so -suddenly they didn't know it was building."</p> - -<p>"You and Blynn get over to the ship right away for deep-probing," Han -Vollard ordered, as both began to speak at once. "It's the only way -I'll be able to get a coherent report."</p> - -<p>After the results came through, her anger was cold, searing, unwomanly. -"You knew a year ago that things were beginning to go wrong and you -didn't even mention it on the tapes! I could have both of you broken -for this."</p> - -<p>"If only that were all there was to worry about," Clarey sighed -wistfully.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She whirled on him. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself!" The sudden loss -of control in that dark amazon was more threatening than anything that -had happened yet.</p> - -<p>"I'm not feeling sorry for myself," he said. "It's the Damorlanti I -feel sorry for."</p> - -<p>"You feel sorry for them because you identify with them. That makes you -sorry for yourself."</p> - -<p>She misunderstood his motives as she misunderstood everything he did -or said, but their rapport wasn't at stake now. "What are you going to -do?" he forced himself to ask.</p> - -<p>"The decision will have to be made on Earth. Unless you mean what's -going to happen to you? That's simple—you'll go back with us. Blynn -will stay here, pending orders."</p> - -<p>The colonel saluted.</p> - -<p>"But I thought I was going to stay here ten years," said Clarey.</p> - -<p>"Five to ten years," she corrected. "Apparently five was enough—" She -cut herself short. "What's the matter with me?" she suddenly exclaimed. -"I've been letting myself think in the same woolly way you do."</p> - -<p>Suddenly, almost frighteningly, she smiled. "Clarey, you <i>did</i> the job -we sent you out to do! You did it better than we expected! What threw -me off was that we sent you out to act as an observer. Instead, you -became a catalyst!"</p> - -<p>She seized his hand and wrung it warmly. "Clarey, I apologize. You've -done a splendid job!"</p> - -<p>He wrenched his hand from her grasp. "I didn't act as a catalyst! -It would have happened anyway." His voice rang in his own horrified -ears—a voice begging for reassurance.</p> - -<p>And she was a woman; she had maternal instincts; she reassured him. "It -would have happened anyway," she said soothingly, "but it would have -dragged on for years, cost the taxpayers billions."</p> - -<p>"And now," he whispered, still unable to believe that the thing had -really happened, "will you ... dispose of everyone on Damorlant?"</p> - -<p>She smiled and threw herself into a chair, her body limp and tired and -contented-looking. "Come, Clarey, we're not that ruthless. Some kind of -quarantine will probably be worked out. We just made the whole thing -sound more drastic to appeal to your patriotism."</p> - -<p>The general beamed. "So everything has worked out all right, after all? -I knew it would. I always had the utmost confidence in you, Clarey."</p> - -<p>She was busily planning. "We'll arrange some kind of heroic -accident.... I have it! You died saving your aunt from the flames."</p> - -<p>"What flames?"</p> - -<p>"The flames of the fire that burned down her house. She died of the -local equivalent of shock. Embelsira will be rich, so she'll want to -believe the story. She'll be able to find herself another husband; -she'll have children. She'll be better off, Clarey."</p> - -<p>He looked at her, his misery welling out of his eyes.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I don't mean it that way, man! All I meant was that you're a human -being; she's not. I'm not saying one is better than the other. I'm -saying they're different."</p> - -<p>"But I felt less different with her, with the Damorlanti, than with -anyone on Earth," he said.</p> - -<p>She walked across to the window and looked out at the Damorlanti -rioting ineptly below. "Most of us are happier in our dream world," she -said at last, "but society couldn't function if we were allowed to stay -there."</p> - -<p>"Damorlan wasn't a dream world."</p> - -<p>"But it will be," she said.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>And so Clarey went back to Earth on the staff ship. Once its luxury -would have given him pleasure; now the cabin with its taps that gave -out plain water, salt water, mineral water, and assorted cordials held -no charm; neither did the self-contained tri-di projector-receiver. The -only reason he stayed there most of the time was to avoid the others. -However, he couldn't avoid turning up in the dining salon for meals. -The greater his sorrow, the greater his appetite.</p> - -<p>One day after lunch, Han stopped him forcibly, grasping his arm. "I've -got to talk to you. Afterward you can go off and sulk if you want to. -But we're going to make planetfall in a few days. It's necessary to -discuss your future now."</p> - -<p>"I have no future," he said.</p> - -<p>"Come this way, Clarey. That's an order!"</p> - -<p>Obediently, he followed her into a lounge that was a dazzle of -color and splendor. There were eight pseudo-windows, each framing a -pseudo-scene of a different planet at a different season. The harsh, -barren summer of Mars, the cold, bleak winter of Ksud, the gentle green -spring of Earth.... It must be a park, he knew; in no other place on -Earth could spring be manifest—and yet it gave him a little pang to -look at it. He tore his eyes away to turn them toward the others, and -then up at the domed ceiling, fashioned to resemble a blue sky with -clouds drifting across it. A domed ceiling ... and he thought of the -domes of Damorlan, light-years away among the stars....</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid the décor's a bit gaudy," Han apologized. "We didn't -check the decorator's past performance until it was too late. But -it's comfortable, anyway. Try one of these chairs. They accommodate -themselves to the form."</p> - -<p>She threw herself on a chaise lounge that accommodated itself perfectly -to her form. She wasn't wearing her usual opulent secretarial garb, but -something simple of clinging stuff that occasionally went transparent. -So we're back to the first movement, Clarey though wearily.</p> - -<p>He made sure that the chair opposite her was old-style before he -lowered himself into it. "Where's the general? I thought he always sat -in on these conferences."</p> - -<p>"The formalities are over now," she said, smiling up at him. "Besides," -she added, "if he doesn't take a nap after lunch, it wreaks havoc with -his digestion. Afraid to be alone with me, Clarey?" she asked huskily.</p> - -<p>"Yes," he said, rising, "as a matter of fact, I am, now that you -mention it."</p> - -<p>She sat up. "Sit down!"</p> - -<p>He sat down.</p> - -<p>She didn't recline again. Her dress went opaque, but her voice grew -silken once more. "Listen, Clarey, I don't want you to think we're -cheating you out of anything we promised. Even though you stayed only -five years, you're going to have it all. You'll have U-E status—"</p> - -<p>"What do I want that for?"</p> - -<p>"Doesn't it mean anything to you any more, Clarey? It used to mean a -lot, though you denied it even to yourself."</p> - -<p>"Did it?" He forced his thoughts back through time. "I suppose it did. -But I've changed. You know, those five years on Damorlan seem like—"</p> - -<p>"Like a lifetime," she finished. "Couldn't we dispense with the -clichés?"</p> - -<p>"On Damorlan the things I said were fresh and interesting. On Damorlan -I was somebody pretty special. I'd rather be a big second-hand fish in -a small primitive puddle. Isn't there some way—"</p> - -<p>"No way at all, Clarey! The puddle's drying up. We've got a nice -aquarium ready for you. Why not dive in gracefully?"</p> - -<p>"It was my puddle," he said. "I belonged."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She closed her eyes and sank back into the chair which arched to meet -the arch of her body. Lying down, she didn't look nearly as tall. "All -right, let's give the whole opera one final run-through. Nobody cared -for you on Earth; on Damorlan your friends liked you; your wife loved -you. On Earth you never felt welcome and/or appreciated; on Damorlan -you felt both welcome and appreciated. On Earth—"</p> - -<p>He was stung out of his apathy. "That's right! I'm not saying I'm -unique, only that I fitted—"</p> - -<p>"How about trying to look at it from another point of view? Did it ever -occur to you that, if the Damorlanti accepted you, so might your own -people, if you approached them in the same way? Did you ever <i>try</i> to -make friends on Earth?"</p> - -<p>"But on Earth I shouldn't have to. They were my own people."</p> - -<p>"Aha!" she cried gleefully.</p> - -<p>"I mean—well, General Spano said it would be wrong to stoop to -hypocrisy to win the friendship of my own people; that, if I did, their -friendship wouldn't be worth anything. You can't buy friendship."</p> - -<p>"You bought your ulerin. Does it play any the worse because you paid -for it? Does it mean any the less to you?"</p> - -<p>"What you're getting at," he said cautiously, "is that that's the way -to make friends? By being a hypocrite?"</p> - -<p>"Was it a sham with the Damorlanti?"</p> - -<p>He had to stop for a moment before he could bring out an answer. "It -started out as a sham—but I really got to like them afterward. Then -it was real."</p> - -<p>"So then you weren't a hypocrite, Clarey." Her voice grew more -resonant. "Open yourself to people, show them that you want to be -friends. Basically, everybody's shy and timid inside."</p> - -<p>"Like you?" he said, casting an ironical glance at her dress.</p> - -<p>"That's still the outside," she smiled, making no move to adjust it. -"Listen to me, Clarey, and don't go off on sidetracks: The people of -Earth are your own people. Your loyalties have always been with them."</p> - -<p>She had almost had him convinced, but this he couldn't swallow. "If my -loyalties had been with Earth, I would have sent back reports of the -trouble. But I didn't. I tried to stop it from happening. There just -wasn't anything I could do."</p> - -<p>"The deep-probe never lies, Clarey. You didn't really try to stop it." -She paused, and then went on deliberately: "Because you could have -stopped it, you know quite easily."</p> - -<p>"There was nothing I could have done," he stated. "Nothing."</p> - -<p>"Remember the first time the staff ship came? Just before you left for -Barshwat, the woman told you she suspected you were an Earthman. You -were afraid for her. Do you remember that?"</p> - -<p>He nodded. Yes, he remembered how terrified he had been then, how -relieved afterward, thinking everything was going to be all right. -Lucky he hadn't realized the truth, or he wouldn't have had those extra -years of happiness.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Han went on remorselessly: "And you thought if only something would -happen to you en route, she would be safe. We might guess why it had -happened, but we couldn't know for sure. We'd have had to start all -over again."</p> - -<p>He couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't think. She spaced each word -carefully, sweetly. "You were quite right. Because you were the only -man on Earth, Clarey, who had the particular physical requirements and -the particular kind of mental instability that we needed for the job. -You just said you weren't unique, Clarey. You were too modest; you are. -If you'd killed yourself then, your death would have served a purpose; -you would have died a hero. Kill yourself now and you die a coward."</p> - -<p>"But at least I'd be dead. I wouldn't have to live with a coward for -the rest of my life."</p> - -<p>"You're not a coward, Clarey," she said. "You wouldn't admit it, but -you are and always have been a patriot. To you, Earth came first. It's -as simple as that."</p> - -<p>She had deep-probed his mind. She must know his true feelings. There -was no gainsaying that. He could know only his surface thoughts; she -knew what lay behind and beneath. And, he reminded himself, at the end -the Damorlanti were actually turning on him.</p> - -<p>"Try to think of the whole thing as a course in charm that you've -passed with flying colors," she said.</p> - -<p>"It seems rather an expensive way of making me charming," he couldn't -help saying, with the last struggle of something that was dying in him, -something alien that perhaps should never have been there in the first -place.</p> - -<p>"Whole civilizations have been sacrificed for nothing at all. This one -will not be sacrificed, only quarantined. But its contribution could be -of cosmic magnitude."</p> - -<p>"Now what are you going to try to sell me?" he asked drearily. "Are -you saying that the essence of the Damorlant civilization is going to -live on in me, that I carry its heritage inside myself, and so I have a -tremendous responsibility to the Damorlanti on my shoulders?"</p> - -<p>She laughed. "You're really getting sharp, Clarey. If you stayed in the -service, you could be one of our best operatives. But you're not going -to stay in the service. Yours is a higher destiny. Here, catch!"</p> - -<p>She tossed him something that glittered as it arched through the air.</p> - -<p>It was a U-E identcube, made out in his name. He had only seen them at -a distance, and now he was holding one warm and gleaming in his hand, -with his name and his face in it. His face ... and yet not his face.</p> - -<p>"That's what you're going to look like when the plastosurgeons get -through," she explained. "They'll pigment your eyes and skin and hair, -and they may be able to add a few inches to your height. Though I think -you actually have grown a little. Something about the air, or, more -likely, the food."</p> - -<p>"Embelsira thought I was handsome the way I was. Embelsira...." -But Embelsira was light-years away. Embelsira was part of a fading -dream—and he was awakening now to reality.</p> - -<p>"Look at the cube. Look at your status symbol."</p> - -<p>He looked at it, and he kept on looking at it. He couldn't tear his -eyes away. He was hypnotized by the golden glitter of it, the golden -meaning of it. "Musician," he said aloud. "Musician...." A dream word, -a magic word. He hadn't thought of it for years, but this he didn't -have to reach back for. Once touched on, it surged over him, complete -with its memories.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>But she had made it meaningless, too. He managed to tear a laugh out of -his throat. "Spano said I'd be able to buy the Musicians' Guild when I -had my million and a half. Apparently you've been able to bargain them -down."</p> - -<p>"This cost nothing except the standard initiation fee," she told him. -"You came by it honestly—through your music, nothing else. And you -have more than a million and a half credits, Clarey—nearly ten times -that, with more pouring in' every day."</p> - -<p>She touched a boss on the side of her chair and white light hazed -around them. "I think we're close enough to Earth to get some of the -high-power tri-dis," she said, "although we can't expect perfect -reception."</p> - -<p>Blurrily, a show formed—a variety show. At first it seemed the same -sort of thing that he remembered dimly, more interesting now because -it had almost the character of novelty. Then an ornate young man -appeared and it took deeper significance. He was carrying a musical -instrument—refined, machined, carefully pitched. He played music on -the ulerin while a trio sang insipid Terrestrial words. "Love Is a -Guiding Star" they called it, but that didn't matter. It was one of the -tunes Clarey had taped.</p> - -<p>She touched another boss. The blur reformed to a symphony orchestra, -playing as background music to a soloist with another ulerin. "That's -your First Ulerin Concerto," she said. "There are three more."</p> - -<p>Another program was beginning, an account of the tribulations of an -unfortunate Plutonian family. It faded in to the strains of ulerin -music, to a tune of Clarey's. If they could have endured it to the end, -she told him, it would have faded out the same way. "Every time they -play it," she said, "somewhere on Earth a cash register rings for you. -And this one's a daily program."</p> - -<p>He watched transfixed and transfigured as program after program -featured his music, his ulerin.</p> - -<p>"Not just on Earth," Han said, "but on all the civilized planets, even -in a few of the more sophisticated primitive ones. You're a famous man, -Clarey. Earth is waiting for you, literally and figuratively. There'll -be ulerin orchestras to greet you at the field; we sent a relay ahead -to let them know you were coming."</p> - -<p>But his mind was slowly alerting itself. "And where am I supposed to be -coming from, then, since they're never to hear about Damorlan?"</p> - -<p>"They've been told that you retired to a lonely asteroid to work—to -perfect your art and its instrument."</p> - -<p>Of course they couldn't divulge the truth about Damorlan. "It seems a -little unfair, though," he said.</p> - -<p>"Why unfair? After all, Clarey, the music is yours. You took Damorlan's -melodies and made them into music. You took their ulerin and made it -into a musical instrument. They're all yours, every note and bladder of -them."</p> - -<p>She reached over and put out a hand to him. "And I'm yours, too, -Clarey, if you want me," she breathed. There was obviously no doubt in -her mind that he did want her. And in his, too. One didn't reject the -Secretary of Space.</p> - -<p>He took the chilly hand in his. The skin was odd in texture. I'm -imagining things, he thought. It's a long time since I touched a human -female's hand.</p> - -<p>"I must be a very important Musician," he said aloud.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She nodded, not pretending to misunderstand. "Yes, important enough to -rate the original and not a reasonable facsimile. You're a lucky man, -Clarey." And then she smiled up at him. "I can be warm and tender, I -assure you."</p> - -<p>It took him a moment to realize what she meant. For a moment he had -that pang again. She would never be the same as Embelsira, but a man -needed change to develop.</p> - -<p>He was still troubled, though. "I want to do <i>something</i>. Even an empty -gesture's better than none at all. The last few months, I started -putting together a longer thing; I guess it could be a symphony. When I -finish it, I'd like to call it the 'Damorlant Symphony.'"</p> - -<p>"Why not?" she said. He thought she was humoring him, but she added, -"They'll think you just picked the name from an astrogation chart."</p> - -<p>In a final burst of irony he dedicated the "Damorlant Symphony" to the -human race, but, as usual, he was misunderstood. In fact, one of the -music critics—all of whom were enthusiastic over the new work—wrote, -"At last we have a great musician who is also a great humanist."</p> - -<p>Eventually Clarey forgot his original intent and came to believe it -himself.</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Sentry Of The Sky, by Evelyn E. 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