Psychlo.
“We of course couldn't examine all universes, but knowing Psychlos, we are positive there are no transshipment rigs or central compounds or executives left. We ourselves gave it up over five months ago. The time limit would have been six months for breathe-gas to last. And that expired six months ago.”
Jonnie had been watching them carefully. These men were hiding something. And they wanted something. They were a threat. Down deep he knew that. Their manner was easy. They were very pleasant and smooth. But their frankness was a pose.
“How can you be sure,” said Jonnie, “that some Psychlo engineer didn't build a transshipment rig?”
“Oh,” said the second small gray man, “he would have fired straight to us at once if he avoided firing into Psychlo. The rig nearest us blew to bits. Took half a city with it. Horrible. Just by a freak, I was out sailing with my family that day, miles away. However, our own offices are fifteen levels underground.”
Was the original small gray man giving him a warning sign? In any case, he got interested in his pointed fingernails.
Angus said, “I don't see any planets listed that have the same atmosphere as Psychlo. Are there any other planets that have that breathe-gas?"
The two small gray men thought it over. Then the one who had come latest said, "Fobia. I don't think they'd list it.” The two of them laughed about something.
The original one said, “Excuse us. It 's kind of a joke. The best-kept state secrets of Psychlo are all a kind of open book in our business. That they would omit listing 'Fobia' is so typically Psychlo. It 's where they exiled King Hak about two hundred sixty-one thousand years ago. It 's the only other planet in that system, and it is so much further out than Psychlo, you can't even see it from the home planet with an unaided eye. It is so cold, its atmosphere has liquefied and lies in lakes on the surface. They built a little dome there and exiled Hak and his fellow conspirators and then got so scared he'd escape they sent assassins in and killed them all. Typically Psychlo. They cut the whole thing out of their schoolbooks. Let's see your astrographic tables.” He took them, looked a while, and then laughed and showed his companion. “Not there! An omitted planet right in their own system!”
In response to Jonnie's look, the second one said, “No, not even any Psychlos there, and nothing going on there either. It 's nothing but breathe-gas ice and very tiny anyway. As of a couple of weeks ago, probes showed it totally deserted. No, you can be certain that's the end of the Psychlos. I saw on scans I reviewed here that you have a very few still alive, but you didn't get them to build this!” He patted the side of the console dragon. “For reasons best known to Psychlos they'd kill themselves first!” He shook his head. “There were a few alive.
Engineers in branch minesites. And don't think one didn't try to persuade them! They're all dead now.”
Was the original one trying to turn the other one off? But the new one was a bit better dressed and appeared to be the superior of the other.
“I think,” said the original one, “that we really ought to get together for a formal conference. There are some things to take up.”
Ah, thought Jonnie. Now we get to it. "I’m not a member of the government,” he hedged.
The newest arrival said, “We're aware of that. But you do enjoy its confidence. We were thinking that possibly if you and the two of us could have a talk, you might assist us to arrange a conference with your government.”
“A talk about having a serious talk,” said the other.
Jonnie had an inspiration. He recalled the first gray man had drunk yarb tea. "I’ll be having dinner in half an hour. If you can eat our food, I’d be pleased to have you join me.”
“Oh, we eat anything,” said the newest small gray man. “Anything there is. We would be so pleased.”
“Half an hour it is,” said Jonnie. And he left to tell Chong-won he had dinner guests after all.
Now maybe he'd find out the threat that these two posed. He wasn't imagining it. These two were dangerous!
Chapter 3
The small gray men could really eat.
Jonnie had been surprised at how well the chief had decorated the main room of the spare apartment. Colored paper lanterns– with mine lamps in them– had been hung about; two paintings, one of a tiger coming toward you in the snow, the other of a bird in flight, decorated the walls; side tables for serving had been set up; the large center table where they sat even had a cloth on it.
Mr. Tsung had insisted Jonnie don a gold brocade tunic– after Jonnie refused to wear a robe of green satin– and Jonnie looked quite nice.
Some very subdued but kind of squeaky music was coming from someplace. It and the click of dishes that Chief Chong-won kept hauling in and the jaws of the small gray men were the only sounds.
Jonnie had tried to invite Angus but he had said he had to keep an eye on that moon gyro. He had wanted Stormalong to come but the pilot was dead tired and catching naps in the ops room. He had asked Chief Chong-won and Mr. Tsung to also eat with them but they said no, they had to serve. So just Jonnie and the two small gray men had wound up as the diners. Jonnie felt that this was a pity for there was an awful lot of food. And Jonnie, so far, had no one to talk to. The small gray men just ate. And ate and ate!
The dinner had begun with appetizers– egg rolls, barbecued loin ribs, and paper-wrapped chicken; these had been served in mounds and had all been eaten up by the small gray men. Then various noodles had been served– pancake noodles, yat ga mein, mun yee noodles, war won ton, beeflo mein, yee fu noodles, and gorn lo won ton, tubs of them! And the small gray men had eaten them all up. Large platters of chicken had been served– almond chicken, cashew chicken, button mushroom chicken, and lichee chicken. And the small gray men had eaten all that up. Then there had been beef dishes– Mongolian beef, sauteed eggplant with beef, tomato beef, and chili pepper steak. And they had gotten around that! Massive platters of Peking duck, cooked in three ways, had, in its turn, disappeared down their gullets. They were working now on egg dishes-chicken egg foo yung, precious flower egg, and mushroom egg foo yung.
Jonnie wondered where Chief Chong-won had gotten all the ingredients until he recalled that game had been plentiful, including lots of fowl in the lake, and that the Chinese had had time to plant and harvest gardens, using an area protected by the dam armor cable to keep the wild beasts out of it.
He himself had not eaten very much. Mr. Tsung had had it relayed to him disparagingly that most of these dishes were southern Chinese cookery and that true cookery had evolved in the north during the Ch'ing Dynasty when his family took care of things. The Peking duck and Mongolian beef should get his main attention. Jonnie had complied. It was pretty good food.
Not as good, of course, as his Aunt Ellen's venison stew, but quite edible. The nurse had sent in word he was not to have any rice wine because of the sulfa but that was fine– Jonnie didn't much care for drinking anyway.
These small gray men were eating the entire banquet that had been planned for thirty people! Where did they put it all?
Jonnie took the time to study them.
Their skin was gray and kind of rough. Their eyes were a dull gray-blue, maybe like the sea, and had heavy lids. Their heads were round and hairless. Their noses took a sharp upturn just at the tip. The ears were a bit odd– reminded one more of gills than ears. They had four fingers and a thumb on each hand, though the nails were very pointed. They really looked quite like men. The main difference was their teeth: they had two rows of teeth, the second set just behind the first.