the ooze, and sufficienttraction to move through the morass that is Niobe's surface. They'reclumsy, slow and hard to steer. But they get you there--which issomething you can't say about other vehicles.
Kron's village had changed somewhat since I first visited it. Theindustrial section was new. The serried ranks of low dural buildingsgleamed metallically in the glare of the floater's lights, glisteningwith the sheets of water that ran from their roofs and sides. Thepower-broadcast station that stood in the center of the village hadn'tbeen there either. But other than that everything was pretty much thesame as it always had been, an open space in the jungle filled withstone-walled, thatch-roofed houses squatting gloomily in the endlessrain.
The industry, such as it was, was concentrated solely upon theproduction of viscaya concentrate. It had made little difference in theNiobian way of life, which was exactly as the natives wanted it.
It was odd, I reflected, how little change had taken place in Niobiansociety despite better than two decades of exposure to Confederationtechnology. Actually, the Confederation could leave tomorrow, and wouldhardly be missed. There would be no cultural vacuum. The strangers wouldsimply be gone. Possibly some of our artifacts would be used. The atomicpower-broadcast station would possibly stay, and so would thehigh-powered radio. Perhaps some of the gadgetry the natives hadacquired from us would be used until it was worn out, but the pattern ofthe old ways would stay pretty much as it had always been. For Niobianculture was primarily philosophical rather than technological, and itpreferred to remain that way.
I parked my floater beside the house that had sheltered Kron as long asI had known him. I entered without announcing myself.
As an old friend I had this privilege, although I seldom used it. But ifI had come formally there would have been an endless rigmarole of socialconvention that would have had to be satisfied before we could get downto business. I didn't want to waste the time.
* * * * *
Kron was seated behind a surprisingly modern desk, reading a book by thelight of a Confederation glowtube. I looked at its title--_The Analectsof Confucius_--and blinked. I'd heard of it. It and Machiavelli's_Prince_ are classics on governmental personality and philosophy, but Ihad never read it. Yet here, hundreds of light years from the homeworld, this naked alien was reading and obviously enjoying that ancientwork. It made me feel oddly ashamed of myself.
He looked up at me, nodded a greeting and laid the book down with afaint expression of regret on his doglike face. I found a chair and satdown silently. I wondered how he found time to read. My job with the BEEkept me busy every day of the 279-day year. And his, which was moreimportant and exacting than mine, gave him time to read philosophy! Isighed. It was something I could never understand.
I waited for him to speak. As host, it was his duty to open the wall ofsilence which separated us.
"Greetings, friend Lanceford," Kron said. "My eyes are happy with thepleasure of beholding you." He spoke in the ancient Niobian formula ofhospitality. But he made it sound as though he really meant it.
"It's a double joy to behold the face of my friend and to hear hisvoice," I replied in the same language. Then I switched to Confed forthe business I had in mind. Their polite forms are far too clumsy anduncomfortable for business use; it takes half a day to get an ideaacross. "It seems as though I'm always coming to you with trouble," Ibegan.
"What now?" Kron asked. "Every time I see you, I hope that we can relaxand enjoy our friendship, but every time you are burdened. Are youEarthmen forever filled with troubles or does my world provoke them?" Hesmiled at me.
"A little of both, I suppose," I said.
Kron hummed--the Niobian equivalent of laughter. "I've been observingyou Earthmen for the past twenty years, and I have yet to see one of youcompletely relaxed. You take yourselves much too seriously. After all,my friend, life is short at best. We should enjoy some of it. Now tellme your troubles, and perhaps there is no cause to worry."
"You're wrong, Kron. There is plenty of cause to worry. This can affectthe well-being of everything on this world."
Kron's face sharpened into lines of interest. "Continue, friendLanceford."
"It's those oysters the BIT sent you a few years ago. They're gettingout of hand."
Kron hummed. "I was afraid that it--"
"--was something serious!" I finished. "That's what I told HeinzBergdorf when he came to me with this story. Now sober down and listen!This _is_ serious!"
* * * * *
"It sounds pretty grim," Kron said after I had finished. "But how is itthat your people didn't foresee the danger? Something as viciouslyreproductive as the oyster should be common knowledge."
"Not on our world. You see, the study of sea life is a specializedscience on Earth. It is one of the faults of our technologicalcivilization that almost everyone must specialize from the time heenters secondary school. Unless one specializes in marine biology, onegenerally knows little or nothing about it."
"Odd. Very odd. But then, you Earthmen always were a peculiar race. Now,if I heard you right, I believe that you said there is an animal on yourworld which preys upon these oysters. A starfish?"
"Yes."
"Won't this animal be as destructive as the oyster?"
"Bergdorf doesn't think so, and I trust his judgment."
"Won't this animal also kill our Komal? They are like these oysters ofyours in a way."
"But they burrow, and the starfish doesn't. They'll be safe enough."
Kron sighed. "I knew that association with you people would prove to bea mixed blessing." He shrugged his shoulders and turned his chair to hisdesk. A Niobian face appeared on the screen. "Call a Council meeting andlet me know when it is ready," Kron ordered.
"Yes, Councilor," the face replied.
"Well, that's that. Now we can relax until the Council manages to gettogether."
"How long will that take?"
"I haven't the least idea," Kron said. "Several days--several weeks. Itall depends upon how soon we can get enough Council members together toconduct business."
I said unhappily, "I'd like to have your outlook but we're fightingagainst time!"
"You Earthmen pick the most impossible opponents. You should learn towork with time rather than against it." He pulled at one earreflectively. "You know, it is strange that your race could produceethical philosophers like this one." He tapped the _Analects_ with awebbed forefinger. "Such contrast of thought on a single world is almostincredible!"
"You haven't seen the half of it!" I chuckled. "But I'm inclined toagree with you. Earth is an incredible world."
* * * * *
Fortunately there was a battle cruiser in the Polar spaceport on agoodwill mission. We had no trouble about getting the detectors Bergdorfneeded, plus a crew to run them. The Navy is co-operative about suchthings, and every officer knows the importance of the BEE on a planetaryoperation. We could have had the entire cruiser if we had wanted it.
A week later the four Marine Lab ships, each equipped with a detector,started a search of Niobe's oceans. Their atomic powerplants could drivethem along at a respectable speed. Bergdorf and I expected a preliminaryreport within a month.
We weren't disappointed.
The results were shocking, but not unexpected. Preliminary searchrevealed no oysters in the other two major oceans, but the Baril Oceanwas badly infested. There were groups and islands of immature oystersalong the entire course of the Equatorial current and the tropical coastof Alpha. Practically every island group in the central part of theocean showed traces of the bivalves. It was amazing how far they hadspread. Even the northern shallows had a number of thriving youngcolonies.
Bergdorf was right. Another year and we'd have been swamped. As it wasit was nothing to laugh about.
The news reached Kron just before the Council meeting, which, like mostof Niobe's off-season politics, had been delayed time after time. Sincea Council meeting
requires an attendance of ninety per cent of theCouncil, it had been nearly impossible to schedule an assembly where aquorum could be present. But our news broadcasts over the BEE radioreached every corner of the planet, and the note of urgency in themfinally produced results.
The Niobians held the emergency session at Base Alpha, where our radiocould carry the proceedings to the entire planet. Whatever else they maybe, Niobian government sessions are open to the public. Since the adventof radio, practically the entire public listens in.
Like the natives, I listened too. I wasn't surprised when Kron appearedin my office, his eyes red and swollen from lack of sleep, but with abig grin on his
To Choke an Ocean Page 5
