The Star Beast (29 page)

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Authors: Robert A Heinlein

BOOK: The Star Beast
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And more Hroshii were pouring out the gap. They made still heavier weather of the immobilizing field, but still they came. As Cowen watched, Lummox broke free of the zone and came on at a gallop, with people scattering ahead of her.

Cowen snapped, “Myra, get through on another circuit to the military! I’ll call the office.”

Betty grabbed his sleeve. “No!”

“Huh? You again! Shut up or you’ll get the back of my hand.”

“Mr. Cowen, will you
listen
.” She went on hastily, “It’s no good calling for help. There isn’t anybody who can make Lummox listen but Johnnie—and
they
won’t listen to anybody but Lummox. You
know
that. So put him down where he can talk to Lummie—or you’re going to have a lot of people hurt and it will be all your fault.”

Security Operative First Class Edwin Cowen stared at her and reviewed in his mind his past career and future hopes. Then he made a brave decision almost instantly. “Take her down,” he snapped. “Land her and let the kid and me out.”

The driver groaned. “I’m charging extra for this.” But he landed the car so fast that it jarred them. Cowen snatched the door open and he and John Thomas burst out; Myra Holtz tried to grab Betty, was unsuccessful. She herself jumped out as the driver was already raising.

“Johnnie!” squealed Lummox and held out mighty arms in a universal gesture of welcome.

John Thomas ran to the star beast. “Lummie! Are you all right?”

“Sure,” agreed Lummox. “Why not? Hi, Betty.”

“Hi, Lummie.”

“Hungry, though,” Lummox added thoughtfully.

“We’ll change that.”

“It’s all right. I’m not supposed to eat now.”

John Thomas started to answer this amazing statement when he noticed Miss Holtz ducking away from one of the Hroshii. Others were milling around as if uncertain how to treat this development. When Johnnie saw Ed Cowen draw his gun and place himself between the Hroshiu and Myra he said suddenly, “Lummox! These are my friends. Tell your friends to leave them alone and get back inside. Quickly!”

“Whatever you say, Johnnie.” The Hroshia spoke in the whining speech to her kin; at once she was obeyed.

“And make us a saddle. We’ll go with you and have a long talk.”

“Sure, Johnnie.”

They got aboard, Johnnie giving Betty a hand up, and started in through the break in the barrier. When Lummox struck the tanglefoot field again they stopped and Lummox spoke sharply to one of the others.

That Hroshiu called out to one inside; the tanglefoot field disappeared. They moved on in without difficulty.

When Mr. Kiku, Sergei Greenberg, and Dr Ftaeml arrived they found an armed truce, tense on both sides. All the Hroshii were back inside the broken barrier; military craft in quantity had replaced the police patrol and far overhead, out of sight, bombers were ready in final extremity to turn the area into a radioactive desert.

The Secretary General and the Chief of Staff met them at the barricade. The Secretary General looked grave. “Ah, Henry. It seems we have failed. Not your fault.”

Mr. Kiku looked out at the massed Hroshii. “Perhaps.” The Chief of Staff added, “We are evacuating the blast radius as rapidly as possible. But if we have to do it, I don’t know what we can do for those two youngsters in there.”

“Then let’s not do anything, shall we? Not yet.”

“I don’t think you understand the seriousness of the situation, Mr. Under Secretary. For example, we placed an immobilizing locus entirely around this area. It’s gone. They cancelled it out. Not just here. Everywhere.”

“So. Perhaps
you
do not understand the seriousness of the situation, General. In any case, a few words can do no harm. Come, Sergei. Coming, Doctor?” Mr. Kiku left the group around the Secretary General and headed for the break in the barricade. Wind sweeping across the miles-wide field forced him to clutch his hat. “I do not like wind,” he complained to Dr. Ftaeml. “It is disorderly.”

“There is a stronger wind ahead,” the Rargyllian answered soberly. “My friend, is this wise? They will not hurt me; I am their employee. But you…”

“What else can I do?”

“I do not know. But there are situations in which courage is useless.”

“Possibly. I’ve never found one yet.”

“One finds such a situation but once.”

They were approaching the solid mass of Hroshii around Lummox. They could make out the two humans on the back of the Hroshia a good hundred yards beyond. Kiku stopped. “Tell them to get out of my way. I wish to approach the Hroshia Lummox.”

Ftaeml translated. Nothing happened, though the Hroshii stirred uneasily. Greenberg said, “Boss, how about asking Lummox and the kids to come out here? That crowd doesn’t smell friendly.”

“No. I dislike shouting into this wind. Please call out to the Stuart lad and tell him to have them make way.”

“Okay, boss. It will be fun to tell my grandchildren—if I have grandchildren.” He cupped his mouth and shouted, “Johnnie! John Stuart! Tell Lummox to have them clear a path.”

“Sure!”

A path wide enough for a column of troops opened as if swept with a broom. The little procession moved down the ranks of Hroshii. Greenberg felt goose flesh crawl up and down his back.

Mr. Kiku’s only worry seemed to be keeping his hat on in the wind. He swore primly while clutching at his head. They stopped in front of Lummox. “Howdy, Mr. Kiku,” John Thomas called out. “Shall we come down?”

“Perhaps it would be best.”

Johnnie slid off, then caught Betty. “Sorry we messed things up.”

“So am I. If you did. Will you introduce me to your friend, please?”

“Oh, sure. Lummox, this is Mr. Kiku. He’s a nice fellow, a friend of mine.”

“How do you do, Mr. Kiku.”

“How do you do, Lummox.” Mr. Kiku looked, thoughtful. “Doctor, is not that the commander, there by the Hroshia? The one with the ugly glint in his eye?”

The Rargyllian looked. “Yes, it is he.”

“Um. Ask him if he has reported the conference to his mistress.”

“Very well.” The medusoid spoke to the Hroshij commander, was answered. “He says not.”

“Um. John Thomas, we concluded a treaty with the Hroshii to permit all that I discussed with you. Suddenly they repudiated the agreement when they discovered that we would not surrender your person without guarantees. Will you help me find out if such were the wishes of your friend?”

“You mean Lummox? Sure.”

“Very well. Wait a moment. Dr. Ftaeml, will you report the essentials of our agreement to the Hroshia Lummox—in the presence of the commander? Or are the concepts beyond her?”

“Eh? Why should they be? She was perhaps two hundred of your years old when she was brought here.”

“So much? Well, speak ahead.”

The Rargyllian commenced the curious whines of the Hroshij tongue, addressing Lummox. Once or twice Lummox interrupted, then allowed him to continue. When Dr. Ftaeml had finished she spoke to the expedition commander. Ftaeml said to the humans, “She asks, ‘Can this be true?’”

The commander made as wide a circle as space permitted, crept up in front of her, with the little group representing the Federation giving way. His legs were retracted so that he crawled like a caterpillar. Without lifting his head from the ground he whined his answer.

“He is admitting the truth but pleading necessity.”

“I wish he would hurry with it,” Kiku fretted. “I’m getting chilly.” His thin knees trembled.

“She is not accepting the explanation. I will spare you the exact tenor of her language—but her rhetoric is superb.”

Suddenly Lummox spat out one squeal, then reared up with four legs clear of the ground. With arms retracted the great beast swung down her head and struck the unfortunate commander a smashing sidewise blow.

It lifted him off the ground, bowled him into the crowd. Slowly he regained his feet, slunk back to the spot in front of Lummox.

Lummox began to speak. “She is saying… I wish you could hear this in
her
language!…that so long as the Galaxy shall last the friends of Johnnie are her friends. She adds that those who are not friends of her friends are nothing, less than nothing, never to be suffered in her sight. She commands this in the names of…it is a recitation of her ancestry with all its complicated branches and is somewhat tedious. Shall I attempt to translate?”

“Don’t bother,” Mr. Kiku told him. “‘Yes’ is ‘yes’ in any language.”

“But she tells it with great beauty,” Ftaeml said. “She is recalling to them things dreadful and wonderful, reaching far into the past.”

“I am interested only in how it affects the future…and in getting out of this pesky wind.” Mr. Kiku sneezed. “Oh dear!”

Dr. Ftaeml took his cape off and hung it around Mr. Kiku’s narrow shoulders. “My friend…my brother. I am sorry.”

“No, no, you will be cold.”

“Not I.”

“Let us share it, then.”

“I am honored,” the medusoid answered softly, his tendrils twitching with emotion. He spread it around them and they huddled together while Lummox finished her peroration. Betty turned to Johnnie.

“That’s more than you ever did for me.”

“Now, Slugger, you know you’re never cold.”

“Well, put your arm around me at least.”

“Huh? In front of everybody? Go snuggle up to Lummox.”

While speaking Lummox had stayed reared up. As the oration progressed the assembled Hroshii sank down, retracting their legs until they were all in the humble position of the commander. At last it was over and Lummox added one sharp remark. The Hroshii stirred and began to move. “She says,” translated Ftaeml, “that she now wishes to be alone with her friends.”

“Ask her;” directed Kiku, “please to assure her friend John Thomas that all she has said is true and binding.”

“Very well.” As the other Hroshii hurried away Ftaeml spoke briefly to Lummox.

Lummox listened, then turned to John Thomas. Out of the great mouth came the piping, little-girl voice. “That’s right, Johnnie. Cross my heart.”

John Thomas nodded solemn agreement. “Don’t worry, Mr. Kiku. You can depend on it.”

XVII
Ninety-Seven Pickle Dishes

CHAPTER XVII

Ninety-Seven Pickle Dishes


SEND
her in.”

Mr. Kiku composed himself nervously, giving the tea tray one last glance, making sure that the intimate little conference room was all that he wished of it. While he was thus fussing a door dilated and Betty Sorenson walked in, said sweetly, “Hello, Mr. Kiku,” and seated herself with composure.

He said, “How do you do, Miss Sorenson?”

“Call me Betty. My friends all do.”

“Thank you. I would wish to be one.” He looked her over and shuddered. Betty had been experimenting with a new design of bars; it made her face somewhat like a checker board. Besides that she had evidently been shopping and was dressed in styles far too old for her. Mr. Kiku was forced to remind himself that customs varied. “Um…my dear young lady, the purpose of this consultation is somewhat difficult to explain.”

“Make it easy on yourself. I’m in no hurry.”

“Will you have tea?”

“Let me pour for us. It’s chummier.” He allowed her to, then sat back with his cup in a relaxed attitude he did not feel.

“I trust you have been enjoying your stay?”

“Oh my, yes! I’ve never been able to shop before without counting pennies. Everybody should have an expense account.”

“Enjoy it I assure you it will never show in the annual budget…literally. Our discretionary fund. Uh, you are an orphan, are you not?”

“A legal orphan. I’m a Free Child. My guardian is the Westville Home for Free Children. Why?”

“Then you are not of age?”

“Depends on how you look at it. I think I am, the court says I’m not. But it won’t be long now, thank goodness.”

“Um, yes. Perhaps I should say that I knew all this,”

“I figured you did. What’s it all about?”

“Um. Perhaps I should tell a little story. Did you ever raise rabbits? Or cats?”

“I’ve had cats.”

“We have run into a difficulty with the Hroshia we know as Lummox. Nothing disastrous; our treaty with them is not affected, since she has given her word. But, uh, shall we say that if we could oblige Lummox in a certain matter, it would make for better feelings, better future relations?”

“I suppose we shall say so, if you say so. What is it, Mr. Kiku?”

“Um. We are both aware that this Hroshia Lummox has long been a pet of John Thomas Stuart.”

“Why, certainly. It worked out funny, didn’t it?”

“Um, yes. And that Lummox was the pet of John Thomas’s father before him, and so on for four generations.”

“Yes, of course. Nobody could want a sweeter pet.”

“Now, that is just the point, Miss Sorenson… Betty. That is the point of view of John Thomas and his forebears. But there are always at least two points of view. From the viewpoint of Lummox she…he…was not a pet. Quite the contrary. John Thomas was his pet. Lummox was engaged in raising John Thomases.”

Betty’s eyes widened, then she started to laugh and choked. “Mr. Kiku! Oh
no!

“I am quite serious. It is a matter of viewpoint and made more reasonable by considering relative lifetimes. Lummox had raised several generations of John Thomases. It was Lummox’s only hobby and principal interest. Childish, but Lummox was, and still is, a child.”

Betty got herself under control to the point where she could talk through giggles. “‘Raising John Thomases.’ Does Johnnie know about this?”

“Well, yes, but I explained it to him somewhat differently.”

“Does Mrs. Stuart know about this?”

“Ah… I haven’t found it necessary to tell her.”

“May I tell her? I want to see her face. ‘John Thomases’…oh my!”

“I think that would be cruel,” Mr. Kiku answered stiffly.

“I suppose so. All right, I won’t do it. But I can dream about it, can’t I?”

“We all can dream. But to continue: Lummox appears to have been perfectly happy with this innocent hobby. It was the Hroshia’s intention to continue it indefinitely. That was the reason that we found ourselves faced with this curious dilemma of being unable to get the Hroshii to leave after their sibling had been restored. Lummox wished to continue, uh, raising John Thomases.” He hesitated.

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