“Please, please,” squeaked the little alien pitifully. “I must see you, honored sir!”
“It isn’t his turn in line,” Stebbins protested. “There are at least fifty ahead of him.”
“All right,” I said tiredly. “As long as he’s in here already, I might as well see him. Be more careful next time, Stebbins.”
Stebbins nodded dolefully and backed out.
The alien was a pathetic sight: a Stortulian, a squirrely-looking creature about three feet high. His fur, which should have been a lustrous black, was a dull gray, and his eyes were wet and sad. His tail drooped. His voice was little more than a faint whimper, even at full volume.
“Begging you most honored pardon most humbly, important sir. I am a being of Stortul XII, having sold my last few possessions to travel to Ghryne for the mi arable purpose of obtaining an interview with yourself.”
I said, “I’d better tell you right at the outset that we’re already carrying our full complement of Stortulians. We have both a male and a female now and—”
“This is known to me. The female—is her name perchance Tiress?”
I glanced down at the inventory chart until I found the Stortulian entry. “Yes, that’s her name.”
The little being immediately emitted a soul-shaking gasp. “It is she! It is she!”
“I’m afraid we don’t have room for any more—”
“You are not in full understanding of my plight. The female Tiress, she is—was—my own Fire-sent spouse, my comfort and my warmth, my life and my love.”
“Funny,” I said. “When we signed her three years ago, she said she was single. It’s right here on the chart.”
“She lied! She left my burrow because she longed to see the splendors of Earth. And I am alone, bound by our sacred customs never to remarry, languishing in sadness and pining for her return. You must take me to Earth!”
“But—”
“I must see her—her and this disgrace-bringing lover of hers. I must reason with her. Earthman, can’t you see I must appeal to her inner flame? I must bring her back!”
My face was expressionless. “You don’t really intend to join our organization at all—you just want free passage to Earth?”
“Yes, yes!” wailed the Stortulian. “Find some other member of my race, if you must! Let me have my wife again, Earthman! Is your heart a dead lump of stone?”
It isn’t, but another of my principles is to refuse to be swayed by sentiment. I felt sorry for this being’s domestic troubles, but I wasn’t going to break up a good act just to make an alien squirrel happy—not to mention footing the transportation.
I said, “I don’t see how we can manage it. The laws are very strict on the subject of bringing alien life to Earth. It has to be for scientific purposes only. And if I know in advance that your purpose in coming isn’t scientific, I can’t in all conscience lie for you, can I?”
“Well—”
“Of course not.” I took advantage of his pathetic upset to steam right along. “Now if you had come in here and simply asked me to sign you up, I might conceivably have done it. But no—you had to go unburden your heart to me.”
“I thought the truth would move you.”
“It did. But in effect you’re now asking me to conspire in a fraudulent criminal act. Friend, I can’t do it. My reputation means too much to me,” I said piously.
“Then you will refuse me?”
“My heart melts to nothingness for you. But I can’t take you to Earth.”
“Perhaps you will send my wife to me here?”
There’s a clause in every contract that allows me to jettison an unwanted specimen. All I have to do is declare it no longer of scientific interest, and the World Government will deport the undesirable alien back to its home world. But I wouldn’t pull a low trick like that on our female Stortulian.
I said, “I’ll ask her about coming home. But I won’t ship her back against her will. And maybe she’s happier where she is.”
The Stortulian seemed to shrivel. His eyelids closed halfway to mask his tears. He turned and shambled slowly to the door, walking like a living dishrag. In a bleak voice, he said, “There is no hope then. All is lost. I will never see my soulmate again. Good day, Earthman.”
He spoke in a drab monotone that almost, but not quite, had me weeping. I watched him shuffle out. I do have some conscience, and I had the uneasy feeling I had just been talking to a being who was about to commit suicide on my account.
About fifty more applicants were processed without a h itch. Then life started to get complicated again.
Nine of the fifty were okay. The rest were unacceptable for one reason or another, and they took the bad news quietly enough. The haul for the day so far was close to two dozen new life forms under contract.
I had just about begun to forget about the incidents of the Kallerian’s outraged pride and the Stortulian’s flighty wife when the door opened and the Earthman who called himself Ildwar Gorb of Wazzenazz XIII stepped in.
“How did you get in here?” I demanded.
“Your man happened to be looking the wrong way,” he s id cheerily. “Change your mind about me yet?”
“Get out before I have you thrown out.”
Gorb shrugged. “I figured you hadn’t changed your i ind, so I’ve changed my pitch a bit. If you won’t believe I’m from Wazzenazz XIII, suppose I tell you that I am Earthborn, and that I’m looking for a job on your staff.”
“I don’t care what your story is! Get out or—”
“—you’ll have me thrown out. Okay, okay. Just give me half a second. Corrigan, you’re no fool, and neither am I—but that fellow of yours outside is. He doesn’t know how to handle alien beings. How many times today has a life form come in here unexpectedly?”
I scowled at him. “Too damn many.”
“You see? He’s incompetent. Suppose you fire him, take me on instead. I’ve been living in the outworlds half my life; I know all there is to know about alien life forms. You can use me, Corrigan.”
I took a deep breath and glanced all around the paneled ceiling of the office before I spoke. “Listen, Gorb, or whatever your name is, I’ve had a hard day. There’s been a Kallerian in here who just about threatened murder, and there’s been a Stortulian in here who’s about to commit suicide because of me. I have a conscience and it’s troubling me. But get this: I just want to finish off my recruiting, pack up and go home to Earth. I don’t want you hanging around here bothering me. I’m not looking to hire new staff members, and if you switch back to claiming you’re an unknown life form from Wazzenazz XIII, the answer is that I’m not looking for any of those either. Now will you scram or—”
The office door crashed open at that point and Heraal, the Kallerian, came thundering in. He was dressed from head to toe in glittering metalfoil, and instead of his ceremonial blaster he was wielding a sword the length of a human being. Stebbins and Auchinleck came dragging helplessly along in his wake, hanging desperately to his belt.
“Sorry, chief,” Stebbins gasped. “I tried to keep him out, but—”
Heraal, who had planted himself in front of my desk, drowned him out with a roar. “Earthman, you have mortally insulted the Clan Gursdrinn!”
Sitting with my hands poised near the meshgun trigger, I was ready to let him have it at the first sight of actual violence.
Heraal boomed, “You are responsible for what is to happen now. I have notified the authorities and you prosecuted will be for causing the death of a life form! Suffer, Earthborn ape! Suffer!”
“Watch it, chief,” Stebbins yelled. “He’s going to—”
An instant before my numb fingers could tighten on the meshgun trigger, Heraal swung that huge sword through the air and plunged it savagely through his body. He toppled forward onto the carpet with the sword projecting a couple of feet out of his back. A few driblets of bluish-purple blood spread from beneath him.