He sat down facing me without being asked and crossed his legs. He was tall and extremely thin, with pale blue eyes and dirty blond hair, and though he was clean and reasonably well dressed, he had a shabby look about him. He said, in level Terran accents, “I’m looking for a job with your outfit, Corrigan.”
“There’s been a mistake. We’re interested in nonterrestrials only.”
“I’m a nonterrestrial. My name is Ildwar Gorb, of the planet Wazzenazz XIII.”
I don’t mind conning the public from time to time, but I draw the line at getting bilked myself. “Look, friend, I’m busy, and I’m not known for my sense of humor. Or my generosity.”
“I’m not panhandling. I’m looking for a job.”
“Then try elsewhere. Suppose you stop wasting my time, bud. You’re as Earthborn as I am.”
“I’ve never been within a dozen parsecs of Earth,” he said smoothly. “I happen to be a representative of the only Earthlike race that exists anywhere in the Galaxy but on Earth itself. Wazzenazz XIII is a small and little-known planet in the Crab Nebula. Through an evolutionary fluke, my race is identical with yours. Now, don’t you want me in your circus?”
“No. And it’s not a circus. It’s—”
“A scientific institute. I stand corrected.”
There was something glib and appealing about this preposterous phony. I guess I recognized a kindred spirit or I would have tossed him out on his ear without another word. Instead I played along. “If you’re from such a distant place, how come you speak English so well?”
“I’m not speaking. I’m a telepath—not the kind that reads minds, just the kind that projects. I communicate in symbols that you translate back to colloquial speech.”
“Very clever, Mr. Gorb.” I grinned at him and shook my head. “You spin a good yarn—but for my money, you’re really Sam Jones or Phil Smith from Earth, stranded here and out of cash. You want a free trip back to Earth. No deal. The demand for beings from Wazzenazz XIII is pretty low these days. Zero, in fact. Good-by, Mr. Gorb.”
He pointed a finger squarely at me and said, “You’re making a big mistake. I’m just what your outfit needs. A representative of a hitherto utterly unknown race identical to humanity in every respect! Look here, examine my teeth. Absolutely like human teeth! And—”
I pulled away from his yawning mouth. “Good-by, Mr. Gorb,” I repeated.
“All I ask is a contract, Corrigan. It isn’t much. I’ll be a big attraction. I’ll—”
“Good-by, Mr. Gorb!”
He glowered at me reproachfully for a moment, stood up and sauntered to the door. “I thought you were a man of acumen, Corrigan. Well, think it over. Maybe you’ll regret your hastiness. I’ll be back to give you another chance.”
He slammed the door and I let my grim expression relax into a smile. This was the best con switch yet—an Earthman posing as an alien to get a job!
But I wasn’t buying it, even if I could appreciate his cleverness intellectually. There’s no such place as Wazzenazz XIII and there’s only one human race in the Galaxy—on Earth. I was going to need some real good reason before I gave a down-and-out grifter a free ticket home.
I didn’t know it then, but before the day was out, I would have that reason. And, with it, plenty of trouble on my hands.
The first harbinger of woe turned up after lunch in the person of a Kallerian. The Kallerian was the sixth applicant that afternoon. I had turned away three more ursinoids, hired a vegetable from Miazan, and said no to a scaly pseudo-armadillo from one of the Delta Worlds. Hardly had the ’dillo scuttled dejectedly out of my office when the Kallerian came striding in, not even waiting for Stebbins to admit him officially.
He was big even for his kind—in the neighborhood of nine feet high, and getting on toward a ton. He planted himself firmly on his three stocky feet, extended his massive arms in a Kallerian greeting gesture, and growled, “I am Vallo Heraal, Freeman of Kaller IV. You will sign me immediately to a contract.”
“Sit down, Freeman Heraal. I like to make my own decisions, thanks.”
“You will grant me a contract!”
“Will you please sit down?”
He said sulkily, “I will remain standing.”
“As you prefer.” My desk has a few concealed features which are sometimes useful in dealing with belligerent or disappointed life forms. My fingers roamed to the meshgun trigger, just in case of trouble.
The Kallerian stood motionless before me. They’re hairy creatures, and this one had a coarse, thick mat of blue fur completely covering his body. Two fierce eyes glimmered out through the otherwise dense blanket of fur. He was wearing the kilt, girdle and ceremonial blaster of his warlike race.
I said, “You’ll have to understand, Freeman Heraal, that it’s not our policy to maintain more than a few members of each species at our Institute. And we’re not currently in need of any Kallerian males, because—”
“You will hire me or trouble I will make!”
I opened our inventory chart. I showed him that we were already carrying four Kallerians, and that was more than plenty.
The beady little eyes flashed like beacons in the fur. “Yes, you have four representatives—of the Clan Verdrokh! None of the Clan Gursdrinn! For three years, I have waited for a chance to avenge this insult to the noble Clan Gursdrinn!”
At the key word avenge, I readied myself to ensnarl the Kallerian in a spume of tanglemesh the instant he went for his blaster, but he didn’t move. He bellowed, “I have vowed a vow, Earthman. Take me to Earth, enroll a Gursdrinn, or the consequences will be terrible!”
I’m a man of principles, like all straightforward double-dealers, and one of the most important of those principles is that I never let myself be bullied by anyone. “I deeply regret having unintentionally insulted your clan, Freeman Heraal. Will you accept my apologies?”
He glared at me in silence.
I went on, “Please be assured that I’ll undo the insult at the earliest possible opportunity. It’s not feasible for us to hire another Kallerian now, but I’ll give preference to the Clan Gursdrinn as soon as a vacancy—”
“No. You will hire me now.”
“It can’t be done, Freeman Heraal. We have a budget, and we stick to it.”
“You will rue! I will take drastic measures!”
“Threats will get you nowhere, Freeman Heraal. I give you my word I’ll get in touch with you as soon as our organization has room for another Kallerian. And now, please, there are many applicants waiting—”
You’d think it would be sort of humiliating to become a specimen in a zoo, but most of these races take it as an honor. And there’s always the chance that, by picking a given member of a race, we’re insulting all the others.
I nudged the trouble button on the side of my desk and Auchinleck and Ludlow appeared simultaneously from the two doors at right and left. They surrounded the towering Kallerian and sweet-talkingly led him away. He wasn’t minded to quarrel physically, or he could have knocked them both into the next city with a backhand swipe of his shaggy paw, but he kept up a growling flow of invective and threats until he was out in the hall.
I mopped sweat from my forehead and began to buzz Stebbins for the next applicant. But before my finger touched the button, the door popped open and a small being came scooting in, followed by an angry Stebbins.
“Come here, you!”
“Stebbins?” I said gently.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Corrigan. I lost sight of this one for a moment, and he came running in—”