Larry Niven - Footfall

“It all sounds wonderful, but aren’t you forgetting something?” Rohrs asked. “Sheriff Lafferty isn’t going to help you do any of this.”

“We do it ourselves.”

“Yeah.” Rohrs scratched his head. “But, Mr. Clybourne—”

“Jack.”

“Jack, I don’t have anybody to spare.”

Jack chuckled. “Now, how did I guess that? It’s okay. First thing, we get some Army troops in here.”

“Intelligence types,” Rohrs said. “Sure.”

“MPs, too. Construction engineers to build prisons. And combat troops, just in case,” Jack said. “The next time we talk to Sheriff Lafferty, I want him to know he’s talking uphill.”

“Did I just hear something tear?” General Gillespie asked. “It sounded like the Constitution.”

Jenny caught the look on Max’s face. Interesting. He looked disgusted. A liberal general? We’re fighting snouts here!

“No.” Jack Clybourne was positive. “What you hear is the sound of Bellingham being put outside the boundaries of the United States.” He opened his brief case and removed a document. “I hold here a presidential order suspending the rules of habeas corpus in the Bellingham area. It’s quite constitutional. I play by the rules, General.”

“Yeah, but when word of that gets out …”

“It won’t. The first thing we do when the troops get here is seal off Bellingham. No one leaves.”

“What about people from the highway?”

“There isn’t much traffic now,” Rohrs said.

“You can’t see the harbor area from the highway,” Jack said. “The big hill with the university on it is in the way. So we leave service stations alongside the highway, and all’s well for people who go to them, but anybody who goes further into town, to the other side of the hill — they don’t leave, that’s all.”

“But what about—”

There was a knock at the door. Rohrs shouted, but no one heard. He went to the door. A flood of sound washed into the room. The workman at the door shouted. “Max, turn on the radio. There’s something important—”

“Okay. Thanks!” Rohrs closed the door and the hammers and rivet guns became tolerable again.

“What station?” Clybourne asked.

“There’s only one.” Rohrs went to the radio that perched above a file cabinet.

A voice boomed out. It sounded familiar, like a professional orator.

“They will take the surrender of all humans — and they will incorporate them into their herd. Those of their race who surrender become the property of the herd. Eventually they or their descendants may find status therein …”

“Son of a bitch!” General Gillespie said. “That’s Wes Dawson!”

They all stood when the President came in. He gestured impatiently for them to be seated. Reynolds stood with the rest of them. With its haphazard furniture and refreshments the room looked like the Green Room at an underfunded science-fiction convention, but it felt weirdly like the White House. Most of the Dreamer Fithp were present. Harpanet was not.

“Commander, I understand that you have a tape?”

The naval officer looked young for his rank. “Yes, Mr. President. It’s just as we received it. We’ve put it through filters to clean out the noise, but nothing else.”

“Play it, then.”

“Yes, sir.” The navy commander gestured.

There was a short hissing sound, and then a voice from outer space.

“My fellow Americans, I’m Wesley Dawson, formerly a congressman from California. I’m now a member of the Chtaptisl Fithp — which is to say the Traveler Herd. I am alive and well and I send my regards to my family. We have been well treated by their standards.”

By their standards. The words stood out; Dawson must have intended them to.

“The human fithp aboard Message Bearer have been brought together. There are three Russians. Commander Rogachev, Lieutenant Colonel Dmitri Grushin, and Commander Rogachev’s sergeant. There are six Americans in addition to me. Mrs. Geraldine Wilson and her daughter Melissa. Gary Capehart, aged nine. John and Carrie Woodward of Lawton, Kansas; and Alice McLennon, who was formerly resident in Topeka. We’re all alive, in reasonable health, due largely to Alice’s forethought in bringing us dietary supplements.

“The fithp complain that their warriors have not been well treated, and that many were killed as they attempted to surrender. The fithp regard this as barbaric.” Dawson’s voice registered bitter amusement.

“The surrender gesture is easily seen. They lie on their backs, rendering themselves helpless. This gesture is deeply embedded into their psychology. One might say it is deep within their very souls. They do not surrender lightly, and when they do, the submission is total. You may believe this. It is true.

“Their leader or Admiral-the word translates to herdmaster as closely as anything else-has asked me to speak to you in order to save slaughter. He says that he can deliver many asteroids, and drop them precisely where he wishes. They do not need to go to the asteroid belt. They can use lunar rocks. Their command of space is complete and they have begun construction of a lunar base.

“When they first approached Earth we all wondered what they wanted. We know now. They intend to live on the Earth. They intend that all humans submit. They have come to stay. They mean to be the dominant but not the only intelligent species on Earth. They have assured me-and I believe them-that they will take the surrender of all humans, and they will incorporate them into their herd.

“Those of their race who surrender become the property of the herd. Eventually they or their descendants may find status therein. For biological reasons humans will never be able to integrate as fithp have traditionally done, but our descendants will be their partners. The human herd will be allowed to live under man-made rules. They will study us to know what those rules shall be.

“We will be allowed to choose our own rules so long as they do not conflict with fithp dominance, but they insist that we must live by the rules we choose. They do not tolerate rogues. We will achieve mankind’s oldest dream, to be one people, with one philosophy, one set of rules for all of us. They do nothing alone. A individual’s acts are taken to be the responsibility of his grout In particular, the fithp mating practices are entirely instinctual going by mating seasons, and they mate for life.”

Good-bye to individualism. Reynolds shuddered. A moment later, Hello, monogamy. Interesting.

Dawson went on. “They intend to do what they must to rule the Earth. They regret the great loss of life from the Foot, but this will not stop them from sending another, and another, until humans understand the great power of the fithp.

“Until you do understand, they have no wish to kill noncombatants. There is a symbol—”

Dawson was describing a fithp on its back, Oh? We use a red cross—

“—urge you not to misuse the symbol. They will be watching. Using the ‘harmless’ symbol for military equipment or installation will result in bombardment of all the places so marked. They se more than you believe they can see. Their radars and lasers are efficient and powerful

They would be.

“Do understand,” Dawson’s recorded voice said. “The Chtap tisk Fithp mean what they say. They have crossed light-years a space to come here. They will not go home. They will be here for centauries.

“They are a collective people who live by strict rules in herds Evolution has eliminated all the rogues from the fithp. They will give humans good treatment by their standards. They would prefer to take the Earth in good condition, but take it they must. Their large spacecraft is their world until they do.”