by Isaac Asimov
no real purpose.
There would be no rescue, of course. That was the penalty paid for thehigh profits which unrestrained competition could lead to. The Merchantwho opened a new planet could have a ten year monopoly of its trade,which he might hug to himself or, more likely, rent out to all comers ata stiff price. It followed that planets were searched for in secrecyand, preferably, away from the usual trade routes. In a case such astheirs, then, there was little or no chance that another ship would comewithin range of their subetherics except for the most improbable ofcoincidences. Even if they were in their ship, that is, rather than inthis--this--_cage_.
The Explorer grasped the thick bars. Even if they blasted those away, asthey could, they would be stuck too high in open air for leaping.
It was too bad. They had landed twice before in the scout-ship. They hadestablished contact with the natives who were grotesquely huge, but mildand unaggressive. It was obvious that they had once owned a flourishingtechnology, but hadn't faced up to the consequences of such atechnology. It would have been a wonderful market.
And it was a tremendous world. The Merchant, especially, had been takenaback. He had known the figures that expressed the planet's diameter,but from a distance of two light-seconds, he had stood at the visi-plateand muttered, "Unbelievable!"
"Oh, there are larger worlds," the Explorer said. It wouldn't do for anExplorer to be too easily impressed.
"Inhabited?"
"Well, no."
"Why, you could drop your planet into that large ocean and drown it."
The Explorer smiled. It was a gentle dig at his Arcturian homeland,which was smaller than most planets. He said, "Not quite."
The Merchant followed along the line of his thoughts. "And theinhabitants are large in proportion to their world?" He sounded asthough the news struck him less favorably now.
"Nearly ten times our height."
"Are you sure they are friendly?"
"That is hard to say. Friendship between alien intelligences is animponderable. They are not dangerous, I think. We've come across othergroups that could not maintain equilibrium after the atomic war stageand you know the results. Introversion. Retreat. Gradual decadence andincreasing gentleness."
"Even if they are such monsters?"
"The principle remains."
It was about then that the Explorer felt the heavy throbbing of theengines.
He frowned and said, "We are descending a bit too quickly."
There had been some speculation on the dangers of landing some hoursbefore. The planetary target was a huge one for an oxygen-water world.Though it lacked the size of the uninhabitable hydrogen-ammonia planetsand its low density made its surface gravity fairly normal, itsgravitational forces fell off but slowly with distance. In short, itsgravitational potential was high and the ship's Calculator was arun-of-the-mill model not designed to plot landing trajectories at thatpotential range. That meant the Pilot would have to use manual controls.
It would have been wiser to install a more high-powered model, but thatwould have meant a trip to some outpost of civilization; lost time;perhaps a lost secret. The Merchant demanded an immediate landing.
The Merchant felt it necessary to defend his position now. He saidangrily to the Explorer, "Don't you think the Pilot knows his job? Helanded you safely twice before."
Yes, thought the Explorer, in a scout-ship, not in this unmaneuverablefreighter. Aloud, he said nothing.
He kept his eye on the visi-plate. They were descending too quickly.There was no room for doubt. Much too quickly.
The Merchant said, peevishly, "Why do you keep silence?"
"Well, then, if you wish me to speak, I would suggest that you strap onyour Floater and help me prepare the Ejector."
The Pilot fought a noble fight. He was no beginner. The atmosphere,abnormally high and thick in the gravitational potential of this worldwhipped and burned about the ship, but to the very last it looked asthough he might bring it under control despite that.
He even maintained course, following the extrapolated line to the pointon the northern continent toward which they were headed. Under othercircumstances, with a shade more luck, the story would eventually havebeen told and retold as a heroic and masterly reversal of a lostsituation. But within sight of victory, tired body and tired nervesclamped a control bar with a shade too much pressure. The ship, whichhad almost levelled off, dipped down again.
There was no room to retrieve the final error. There was only a mileleft to fall. The Pilot remained at his post to the actual landing, hisonly thought that of breaking the force of the crash, of maintaining thespaceworthiness of the vessel. He did not survive. With the ship buckingmadly in a soupy atmosphere, few Ejectors could be mobilized and onlyone of them in time.
When afterwards, the Explorer lifted out of unconsciousness and roseto his feet, he had the definite feeling that but for himself andthe Merchant, there were no survivors. And perhaps that was anover-calculation. His Floater had burnt out while still sufficientlydistant from surface to have the fall stun him. The Merchant might havehad less luck, even, than that.
He was surrounded by a world of thick, ropy stalks of grass, and in thedistance were trees that reminded him vaguely of similar structures onhis native Arcturian world except that their lowest branches were highabove what he would consider normal tree-tops.
He called, his voice sounding basso in the thick air and the Merchantanswered. The Explorer made his way toward him, thrusting violently atthe coarse stalks that barred his path.
"Are you hurt?" he asked.
The Merchant grimaced. "I've sprained something. It hurts to walk."
The Explorer probed gently. "I don't think anything is broken. You'llhave to walk despite the pain."
"Can't we rest first?"
"It's important to try to find the ship. If it is spaceworthy or if itcan be repaired, we may live. Otherwise, we won't."
"Just a few minutes. Let me catch my breath."
The Explorer was glad enough for those few minutes. The Merchant's eyeswere already closed. He allowed his to do the same.
He heard the trampling and his eyes snapped open. Never sleep on astrange planet, he told himself futilely.
The Merchant was awake too and his steady screaming was a rumble ofterror.
The Explorer called, "It's only a native of this planet. It won't harmyou."
But even as he spoke, the giant had swooped down and in a moment theywere in its grasp being lifted closer to its monstrous ugliness.
The Merchant struggled violently and, of course, quite futilely. "Can'tyou talk to it?" he yelled.
The Explorer could only shake his head. "I can't reach it with theProjector. It won't be listening."
"Then blast it. Blast it down."
"We can't do that." The phrase "you fool" had almost been added. TheExplorer struggled to keep his self-control. They were swallowing spaceas the monster moved purposefully away.
"Why not?" cried the Merchant. "You can reach your blaster. I see it inplain sight. Don't be afraid of falling."
"It's simpler than that. If this monster is killed, you'll never tradewith this planet. You'll never even leave it. You probably won't livethe day out."
"Why? Why?"
"Because this is one of the young of the species. You should know whathappens when a trader kills a native young, even accidentally. What'smore, if this is the target-point, then we are on the estate of apowerful native. This might be one of his brood."
That was how they entered their present prison. They had carefully burntaway a portion of the thick, stiff covering and it was obvious that theheight from which they were suspended was a killing one.
Now, once again, the prison-cage shuddered and lifted in an upward arc.The Merchant rolled to the lower rim and startled awake. The coverlifted and light flooded in. As was the case the time before, there weretwo specimens of the young. They were not very different in appearancefrom adults of the species, reflected the Explorer, though, of course,
they were considerably smaller.
A handful of reedy green stalks was stuffed between the bars. Its odorwas not unpleasant but it carried clods of soil at its ends.
The Merchant drew away and said, huskily, "What are they doing?"
The Explorer said, "Trying to feed us, I should judge. At least thisseems to be the native equivalent of grass."
The cover was replaced and they were set swinging again, alone withtheir fodder.
IV
Slim started at the sound of footsteps and brightened when it turned outto be only Red.
He said, "No one's around. I had my eye peeled, you bet."
Red said, "Ssh. Look. You take this stuff and stick it in the cage. I'vegot to scoot back to the house."
"What is it?" Slim reached reluctantly.
"Ground meat. Holy Smokes, haven't you ever seen ground meat? That'swhat you should've got when I sent you to the house instead of comingback with that stupid grass."
Slim was hurt. "How'd I know they don't eat grass. Besides, ground meatdoesn't come loose like that. It comes in cellophane and it isn't thatcolor."
"Sure--in the city. Out here we grind our own and it's always this colortill it's cooked."
"You mean it isn't cooked?" Slim drew away quickly.
Red looked disgusted. "Do you think animals eat _cooked_ food. Come on,take it. It won't hurt you. I tell you there isn't much time."
"Why? What's doing back at the house?"
"I don't know. Dad and your father are walking around. I think maybethey're looking for me. Maybe the cook told them I took the meat.Anyway, we don't want them coming here after me."
"Didn't you ask the cook before you took this stuff?"
"Who? That crab? Shouldn't wonder if she only let me have a drink ofwater because Dad makes her. Come on. Take it."
Slim took the large glob of meat though his skin crawled at the touch.He turned toward the barn and Red sped away in the direction from whichhe had come.
He slowed when he approached the two adults, took a few deep breaths tobring himself back to normal, and then carefully and nonchalantlysauntered past. (They were walking in the general direction of the barn,he noticed, but not dead on.)
He said, "Hi, Dad. Hello, sir."
The Industrialist said, "Just a moment, Red. I have a question to askyou?"
Red turned a carefully blank face to his father. "Yes, Dad?"
"Mother tells me you were out early this morning."
"Not real early, Dad. Just a little before breakfast."
"She said you told her it was because you had been awakened during thenight and didn't go back to sleep."
Red waited before answering. Should he have told Mom that?
Then he said, "Yes, sir."
"What was it that awakened you?"
Red saw no harm in it. He said, "I don't know, Dad. It sounded likethunder, sort of, and like a collision, sort of."
"Could you tell where it came from?"
"It _sounded_ like it was out by the hill." That was truthful, anduseful as well, since the direction was almost opposite that in whichthe barn lay.
The Industrialist looked at his guest. "I suppose it would do no harm towalk toward the hill."
The Astronomer said, "I am ready."
Red watched them walk away and when he turned he saw Slim peeringcautiously out from among the briars of a hedge.
Red waved at him. "Come on."
Slim stepped out and approached. "Did they say anything about the meat?"
"No. I guess they don't know about that. They went down to the hill."
"What for?"
"Search me. They kept asking about the noise I heard. Listen, did theanimals eat the meat?"
"Well," said Slim, cautiously, "they were sort of _looking_ at it andsmelling it or something."
"Okay," Red said, "I guess they'll eat it. Holy Smokes, they've got toeat _something_. Let's walk along toward the hill and see what Dad andyour father are going to do."
"What about the animals?"
"They'll be all right. A fellow can't spend all his time on them. Didyou give them water?"
"Sure. They drank that."
"See. Come on. We'll look at them after lunch. I tell you what. We'llbring them fruit. Anything'll eat fruit."
Together they trotted up the rise, Red, as usual, in the lead.
V
The Astronomer said, "You think the noise was their ship landing?"
"Don't you think it could be?"
"If it were, they may all be dead."
"Perhaps not." The Industrialist frowned.
"If they have landed, and are still alive, where are they?"
"Think about that for a while." He was still frowning.
The Astronomer said, "I don't understand you."
"They may not be friendly."
"Oh, no. I've spoken with them. They've--"
"You've spoken with them. Call that reconnaissance. What would theirnext step be? Invasion?"
"But they only have one ship, sir."
"You know that only because they say so. They might have a fleet."
"I've told you about their size. They--"
"Their size would not matter, if they have handweapons that may well besuperior to our artillery."
"That is not what I meant."
"I had this partly in mind from the first." The Industrialist went on."It is for that reason I agreed to see them after I received yourletter. Not to agree to an unsettling and impossible trade, but to judgetheir real purposes. I did not count on their evading the meeting."
He sighed. "I suppose it isn't our fault. You are right in one thing, atany rate. The world has been at peace too long. We are losing a healthysense of suspicion."
The Astronomer's mild voice rose to an unusual pitch and he said, "I_will_ speak. I tell you that there is no reason to suppose they canpossibly be hostile. They are small, yes, but that is only importantbecause it is a reflection of the fact that their native worlds aresmall. Our world has what is for them a normal gravity, but because ofour much higher gravitational potential, our atmosphere is too dense tosupport them comfortably over sustained periods. For a similar reasonthe use of the world as a base for interstellar travel, except for tradein certain items, is uneconomical. And there are important differencesin chemistry of life due to the basic differences in soils. Theycouldn't eat our food or we theirs."
"Surely all this can be overcome. They can bring their own food, builddomed stations of lowered air pressure, devise specially designedships."
"They can. And how glibly you can describe feats that are easy to a racein its youth. It is simply that they don't have to do any of that. Thereare millions of worlds suitable for them in the Galaxy. They don't needthis one which isn't."
"How do you know? All this is their information again."
"This I was able to check independently. I am an astronomer, after all."
"That is true. Let me hear what you have to say then, while we walk."
"Then, sir, consider that for a long time our astronomers have believedthat two general classes of planetary bodies existed. First, the planetswhich formed at distances far enough from their stellar nucleus tobecome cool enough to capture hydrogen. These would be large planetsrich in hydrogen, ammonia and methane. We have examples of these in thegiant outer planets. The second class would include those planets formedso near the stellar center that the high temperature would make itimpossible to capture much hydrogen. These would be smaller planets,comparatively poorer in hydrogen and richer in oxygen. We know that typevery well since we live on one. Ours is the only solar system we know indetail, however, and it has been reasonable for us to assume that thesewere the _only_ two planetary classes."
"I take it then that there is another."
"Yes. There is a super-dense class, still smaller, poorer in hydrogen,than the inner planets of the solar system. The ratio of occurrence ofhydrogen-ammonia planets and these super-dense water-oxygen worlds oftheirs over the entire
Galaxy--and remember that they have actuallyconducted a survey of significant sample volumes of the Galaxy which we,without interstellar travel, cannot do--is about 3 to 1. This leavesthem seven million super-dense worlds for exploration and colonization."
The Industrialist looked at the blue sky and the green-covered treesamong which they were making their way. He said, "And worlds like ours?"
The Astronomer said, softly, "Ours is the first solar system they havefound which contains them. Apparently the development of our solarsystem was unique and did not follow the ordinary rules."
The Industrialist considered that. "What it amounts to is that thesecreatures from space are asteroid-dwellers."
"No, no. The asteroids are something else again. They occur, I was told,in one out of eight stellar systems, but they're completely differentfrom what we've been discussing."
"And how does your being an astronomer change the fact that you arestill only quoting their unsupported statements?"
"But they did not restrict themselves to bald items of information. Theypresented me with a theory of stellar evolution which I had to acceptand which is more nearly valid than anything our own astronomy has everbeen able to devise, if we except possible
