Hal Clement - Natives of Space

He crawled back to the point from which he could see Tes’ hiding place, and watched her move to the edge of the quarry, poise, and dive; then he returned to his sentry duty.

His wife had eaten, rested, brought up food for him, and been back at her place for some time before anything else happened. Then it was Thrykar who saw the new-comer; and in the instant of perception he not only informed Tes, but formed a hypothesis which would account for the observed motions of the human beings and implied the possibility of productive action in a very short time.

The present passer turned out not to be alone; there were two individuals, once more carrying books. Thrykar watched them pass, mulling over his idea; and when they were out of sight he signaled Tes to come over to his hiding place. She came, working her way carefully among the bushes above the quarry, and asked what he wanted.

“I think I know what is going on now,” he said. “These people we have seen pass apparently live some-where up the road, and are required for some reason to spend much of the day in town. It is therefore reasonable to assume that they will all be returning the way they went, sometime before dark. I am quite sure that the two who just passed were among those who went the other way this morning.

“Therefore, I want you to watch here, while I work my way down to the place where the little road from this quarry joins the other. You will signal me when more of these people approach; and I, concealed at the roadside, will be able to get a first specimen if and when a solitary human being passes. If others approach while I am at work, you can warn me; but it should take only a few seconds, and the creature need not be unconscious much longer than that. Even if others are following closely, I can arrange matters to seem as though it had a fall or some similar accident. I am assuming that no one will come from the other direction; it’s a chance we have to take, but the amount of traffic so far today seems to justify it.”

“All right,” replied Tes. “I’ll stay here and watch. I hope it doesn’t take long; I’m getting mortally weary of waiting for something interesting or useful to happen.”

Thrykar made a gesture of agreement, and gathered his equipment for the move.

Jackie Wade would have sympathized with Tes, had he dreamt of her existence. He, too, was thoroughly bored. Yesterday hadn’t been so bad — the first day of school at least has the element of interest inherent in new classes, possible new teachers, and — stretching a point — even new books; but the second day was just school. Five years of education had not taught Jackie to like it; at the beginning of the sixth, it was simply one of life’s less pleasant necessities.

He looked, for the hundredth time, at the lock placed by intent at the back of the room. It lacked two minutes of dismissal time; and he began stealthily to gather the few books he planned to take home for appearance’s sake. He had just succeeded in buckling the leather strap about them when the bell rang. He knew better than to make a dash for the door; he waited until the teacher herself had risen, looked over the class, and given verbal permission to depart. Fifteen seconds later he was in front of the school building.

His brother James, senior to him by two years and taller by nearly a head, joined him a moment later. They started walking slowly toward the country road, and within a minute or two the other dozen or so boys from valley farms had caught up with them. When the last of these had arrived, Jackie started to increase his pace; but his brother held him back. He looked up in surprise.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “You getting rheuma-tism?” Jimmy gestured toward small figures, some dis-tance in front.

“Fatty and Mice. Let ‘em get good and far ahead. We’re going swimming, and Fatty’s a tattler if there ever was one.”

Jack nodded understandingly, and the group dawdled on. The shortest way to the quarries would have taken them past the still active pits and — more to the point — past the houses lying farthest out on the road. The adult inhabitants of one or two of these dwellings had made themselves unpopular with the boys by interfering with the swimming parties; so before the country road was reached, the group turned north on a street which ran parallel to the desired route. This they followed until it degenerated into a rutted country lane; then they turned left again and proceeded to cross the fields and through a small wood — the straggling edge of the growth that covered the mountain — until the road was reached. It was approached with caution, the boys making an Indian stalk of the business.

There was no sign of anyone, according to the “scouts”; the two girls had presumably passed already. The party hastily crossed the road, and ran down the drive that led to the most secluded of the quarries. Thrykar was not the first to appreciate this quality. Thirteen boys, from seven years of age to about twice that, dived into convenient bushes, shed garments with more haste than neatness, and a moment later were splashing about in the appallingly deep water.

They, were all good swimmers; the parents of town and valley had long since given up hope of keeping their offspring out of the quarries all the time, and most of them had taken pains to do the next best thing. Jackie and Jimmie Wade were among the best.

Thrykar, whose journey down to the road had been interrupted by the boisterous arrival of the gang, didn’t think too much of their swimming abilities; but he was fair-minded enough to realize their deficiencies in that respect were probably for anatomical reasons. His first emotion at the sight of them had been a fear that they would discover the hiding place where the gas cylinders and Tes were concealed, and he had returned thereto in a manner as expeditious as was consistent with careful concealment. The fear remained as he and Tes carefully watched from the edge of the pit; but there was nothing they could do to prevent such a discovery. On dry land they could not move nearly so fast as they had seen the boys run; and there were too many eyes about to risk a drop over the edge into the water.

Two or three of the boys did climb the sides of the quarry some distance, to dive back down; but Thrykar, after seeing the splashes they made on entry, decided they were not likely to come much higher. He wondered how long they were likely to stay; it was obvious that they had no motive but pleasure. He also wondered if they would all leave together; and as that thought struck him, he glanced at the gas cylinders behind him.

The boys might have remained longer, but the local geography influenced them to some extent.

The quarry was on the east side of the mountain, it was mid-afternoon, and most of the water had been in shadow at the time of their arrival. As the sun sank lower, depriving them of the direct heat that was necessary to make their swimming costume comfortable in mid-September, their enthusiasm began to decline. The youngest one present remembered that he lived farther up the valley than any of them, and presently withdrew, to return fully clothed and exhorting one or two of his nearest neighbors to accompany him.

Jackie Wade looked at the boy in surprise as he heard his request.

“Why go so soon? Afraid of something?” he jeered.

“No,” denied the seven-year-old stoutly, “but it’s get-ting late. Look at the sun.”

“Go on home if you want, little boy,” laughed Jack, plunging back into the water. He lived only a short distance out on the road, and was no less self-centered than any other child of ten. Two or three of the others, however, appreciated the force of the argument the youngster had implied, rather than the one he had voiced; and several more disappeared into the bushes where the clothes had been left. One of these was James, who had foresight enough to realize that the distance home was not sufficient to permit his hair to dry. After all, they weren’t supposed to swim in the quarry, and there was no point in asking for trouble.