Hal Clement - Natives of Space

“Yes, Boss.”

“Clear out, then. That’s the way you wanted things, isn’t it, Talker?”

The being addressed, who had heard the preceding dialogue with more amusement than respect, was watching from the inner door of the air lock. Like the blustering commander and the obsequious crew member, he supported his body almost horizontally on four slender legs.

Another pair of appendages terminated in prehensile organs as efficient as human hands, and a double pair of silvery-gray, membranous wings were folded along the sides of his streamlined, insectile body.

He could best be described to an Earthman as a giant hawk moth, the resemblance being heightened by the broad, feathery antennae projecting some eighteen inches from a point above his eyes. Those appendages alone differentiated him from the others of his kind; those of the captain and crew were a bare eight inches in length, narrower, and less mobile.

His eyes were the most human characteristics — more accurately, the only ones — that he possessed. Two disks of topaz, more than three inches across, they lent a strangely sagacious expression to the grotesque countenance.

“You have understood well, commander,” radiated Talker, “even though you seem unable to realize the necessity for this action. The creature must see enough of the ship to arouse his curiosity; at the same time he must gain no inkling of our presence.”

“Why not?” asked Boss. “It seems to me that we could learn to communicate much more quickly if we capture him. You say he must be allowed to come and go as he pleases for many days, and must remain under the impression that this ship is deserted. I know you’ve been trained to communication all your life, but — “

“But nothing! That one fact should make it evident that I know more than you can hope to understand about the problem we’re facing. Come up to the control room — that native will arrive shortly, and that’s the only place from which we can watch him without being seen ourselves.”

Talker led the way forward along the dimly lit main corridor, into which the inner door of the air lock opened directly. At its end, a low doorway opened, and a spiral ramp led to the control deck, half a level higher. Here the two paused. Metal grillework, its interstices filled with glass, formed the rear wall of the room and afforded a view the whole length of the corridor. Talker extinguished the control-room lights, and settled himself at this vantage point.

His name was no indication of his temperament. The narrator, in fact, must accept full blame for the former. Had it been merely a question of translating from one vocal language to another, it would have been possible to set down a jumble of vowels and consonants, the more unpronounceable the better, and claim that the English alphabet provided no means of coming closer to the true pronunciation. Unfortunately, these beings were able to sense directly the minute electrical disturbances that accompany nerve currents; they conversed by broadcasting reproductions of the appropriate sensory impressions. The “language,” if it could be so called, might be thought of as possessing the elements of a vocal tongue — nouns, verbs, and modifiers; interjections were replaced by the appropriate emotions, but most of the conversation was reproduced visual imagery.

Obviously, personal names were nonexistent; but theknowledge of identity was in no way impaired. An individual was thought of with respect to his position; temporary or permanent, in the group, or by his personal characteristics. The names used are attempts to show this fact.

No name would suit the arrogant, peppery commander of the vessel, other than the one we have used; but the cognomen “Talker” merits further explanation.

The rulers of his home planet had many of Boss’ characteristics. They were the outcome of ages of government similar to the feudal systems of Earth’s Middle Ages. Ranks corresponding to kings, lords, and dukes existed; warfare was almost continuous. Talker belonged to a class having almost exactly the same duties as medieval heralds; he had been trained from infancy in the traditions, obligations, and special abilities of that class. He was one of a clique which, within itself, formed an international fraternity almost as powerful as any of the governments. Their indispensability protected them; they formed, in addition, probably the most intelligent group in the world. The rulers, and through them, the other inhabitants, looked up to them, and perhaps even feared them a little. The enormously developed faculty of communication implied an unparalleled ability to catch and decipher the mental radiations of others; the development of that power was the “herald’s” chief exercise. These last facts should suffice to explain the power of the group, as well as the origin of Talker’s name.

Once comfortably settled, Talker again addressed the captain.

“I can’t blame you too much for failure to understand the need for this procedure. You lack the training, as you have said; and in addition, there is a condition present whose very possibility never before occurred to me. Tell me, Boss, could you imagine someone — one of your engineers, let us say — acting quite normally, and yet radiating impulses that meant absolutely nothing to you?”

“None of them knows enough to think anything I couldn’t understand,” was the incredulous answer. “If one of them did, I’d lock him up for examination.”

“Exactly. You can’t imagine a perfectly sane mind giving off anything but clear thoughts. But what are the thoughts, the waves, that you hear?”

“I hear what he’s thinking.”

“You don’t. Your antennae pick up waves which are generated by the chemical processes going on in his brain. Through long practice, you have learned to interpret those waves in terms of the original thoughts; but what thought actually is, neither you nor I nor anyone else knows. We havèthought’ in the same fashion all our lives; one brain radiates just like another. But this creature, with whom we have to communicate, is a member of another race; the same thoughts in his mind produce different radiations — the very structure of his brain is, quite likely, different from ours.

That was why I was so long finding him; I could not disentangle his radiations from the nerve waves of the other relatively unintelligent life forms around here, until I actually saw him performing actions that proved unquestionably that he does possess a reasoning brain. Even then, it was some time before I realized just what was wrong — it was so new and different.”

“Then what can you do? What good will those observations do us!” asked Boss, almost tremulously. “I don’t get it entirely, but you seem to. If you can’t talk to him, how can we get the stuff we need? And if we don’t get it, please tell me how we dare show our faces again within five light-years of home!”

“I am far from sure of just how much can be done,” replied the other. “It will be necessary to determine, if possible, the relation between what this creature thinks and what he radiates; I don’t think it will be easy. These observations are for the purpose of getting a start in that direction.,

“As to the other questions, they are entirely your business. You command this ship; and this is the first time I ever saw you want to talk to someone before you helped yourself to his belongings. If you find yourself unable to do so, we can go back, anyway — if labor is scarce, we might get off with a life sentence in the King’s mines on the big moon.”

“If they still belong to the King by then. I think I’d rather die here, or in space.”

“At least, there would be no trouble in getting hold of arsenic,” said Talker dryly. “Those mines produce more of that stuff than anything else. If there is any at all on this planet, we have no time to waste on a probably fruitless search, we must get it from the natives, if they know what it is and have any.”