Captain Crane stared at the screen. Patrol Eleven hovered, the crashed Victrix squarely in the middle of the supplementary screen. Captain Crane seemed to have forgotten the other men in the pilot room. His lips moved. Brian heard him say softly, “A hundred and ten generations ago.”
The lean head snapped up. “Take her down, mister.”
Dan Brian set Patrol Eleven as close to the hulk as he dared. It was morning on the tiny planet. The sun glittered on the silver hulk. The odd growth, trees with grotesquely thin trunks, had been cleared away from one side of the hulk by unknown hands.
The inside radiation screens were rolled up away from the direct vision ports and all hands stared at the silent forest, at the huge silver shape sprawled across the gentle slope.
Crane got the lab report. “Oxygen atmosphere, but too thin. Grabbed some soil. Nothing dangerous detected. Okay to venture out in suits.”
As Captain Crane did not have medical approval for Exploration, Dan Brian headed the group of five.
It happened five minutes after they stepped down onto the soil of the new planet, five minutes after their shoes, heavily weighted with lead, touched the thin, crisp grass.
Dan heard it first. He made a terse report back to the ship, loosened the weapon at his belt and waited.
It was a form of music. A distant thump of drums.
They moved closer to the port out of which they had clambered.
A procession came up over the brow of the hill.
Two of the men promptly became ill, which, clad as they were, was a very messy affair. Dan Brian swallowed hard.
His skin crawled as he watched them. They came close to him, but not too close. They spread out in a half circle and fell to their knees. Their chant resounded in the quiet forest glade. Red blood gushed after the expert thrust of the sacrifical knife.
They bowed low and sang and at last turned and went back the way they had come...
Dan Brian sat in Captain Crane’s cabin.
Dan shook his head slowly. “I don’t get it, sir. I’ve seen how they are on Venus. I’ve seen intelligent things that looked remotely like beetles, and sea slugs, and birds with scales instead of feathers. But nothing hit me like that did.”
It was night, a time for conjecture.
Captain Crane said slowly, “I don’t think you are thinking clearly, Dan. Revulsion needs a stepping-off place. Something completely alien is never horrible. It is merely incomprehensible. This is the first time that you or I have ever seen creatures which are sufficiently like men so that the unconscious comparison makes them horrible.”
Dan thought it over and nodded slowly. “That must be it. I can see what you mean. A bad scar on one of those Venusian would mean nothing to me. Across the face or a beautiful woman, it would mean a great deal.”
Crane sucked on his pipe. Then he examined the dark wood. He said slowly, “They are horrible to us, Dan, because they are men.”
Dan laughed uneasily.
“Don’t laugh, my boy. I’ve seen the effects of environment before. Those are the decendents of the survivors of the Victrix. Their bodies have merely adjusted to the thin air, the gravity, other factors. Diet. Those are humans.”
Dan was closer to being ill than he had been when he had first seen them. And he knew that Crane was right. It was nightmare.
“But — such a terrific change!” he protested, hoping against hope that Crane was wrong.
“It is extreme,” Crane agreed. “Thus nature had help. Selective breeding. Probably all tied up with their religious fetishes.”
“But how would they know the change was necessary?”
“Intellectually, they wouldn’t, Dan. But some sixth sense would guide them.”
“I hate the thought of having to look at them tomorrow.”
“It has to be done. We have to examine the ship, examine their village, make a report on customs. You can thank your stars that we don’t have to bring one of them back with us for examination. Fortunately we don’t have provision for that on this ship. Somebody not as lucky will have that pleasure. Happy dreams to them.”
“I’d better turn in,” Dan said.
“Read your manual on alien cultures. You’ll have to get transcripts, tri-di films, measurements.”
Dan went reluctantly to bed...
Captain Crane took a nap after Dan Brian had been gone for five hours. He was awakened by Dan, who, a look of excitement on his face, was shaking him by the shoulder.
“Back so soon?” Crane said sleepily.
“Sir, what did you mean by proper provision to take some of those people back with us?”
“I mean that we can’t release a compartment to have the air pressure reduced to what they’re used to. We can’t store their food.”
“But, sir, suppose a couple of them can breathe our air and eat our food?”
“Are you crazy, mister? Don’t you want to be able to eat for the rest of the trip? Has the sun gotten to you?”
“But, sir—”
“Where are these horrors that you want to collect like specimens.”
“They’re on the ship.”
“What!” Captain Crane roared. He jumped to his feet, “Where are they? I’ll have you broken for this!”
They were in the main lounge. Captain Crane stopped dead as he saw them. He stared with his mouth open and then he smiled.
The man was strong and well-muscled. His eyes were squinted against the light. In spite of his matted hair and beard, Crane guessed his age at about twenty-five or twenty-six. His gray eyes looked intelligent. He wore trousers borrowed from a crew member.
The girl clung to his hand. They stood close together, not frightened but wary. She seemed to be about eighteen. She was very beautiful. They had dressed her in a sheet from one of the cots. It was fastened around her slim waist with a crewman’s belt.
“There were three of them, sir,” Dan said excitedly. “They were underground. That’s why they’re so pale. The old one died of the shock of being released and seeing us. Anderson, the language guy, has made progress. These two belong to the same race. So that means you were right. They’re throwbacks and the treatment is to imprison them, prevent their breeding. Please, sir, can we take them along. They catch on quickly. Imagine finding these two among that race of... of monsters.”
The words of the other monsters were strange. Pol could not understand them. He could understand the gestures. Anything was better than remaining in that prison under the ground. He was grateful to them. They had released him, had brought him and Lae to the new silver temple, the one that stood upright. Their air inside their temple was heavy and thick, but not unpleasant.
One of the monsters came and beckoned to him. Holding Lae’s hand he went through the narrow corridor and came into a small room where chairs were fixed to the floor.
The monster pointed to the screen. He and Lae watched. The screen was dark and suddenly there was a lurching so that they stumbled and nearly fell. In the screen they saw the old temple, dropping away beneath them.
“Lae, we are being taken into the sky in this temple. Are you afraid.”
“Not with you near.”
Her hand was warm in his. They watched the earth of their land until it startlingly resembled a small ball, and the height made him weak and dizzy.
Then they were led back to the small room once more.
They were left alone.
Pol looked down into the face of Lae, the Ugly, and he said, “It is better that we go with these, our brothers, who somehow have found freedom.”
“Yes, it is better.”
“You are not afraid?”
“I am not afraid.”