Гарднер Дозуа - The Good Old Stuff

It was hard to find any good in them, other than the virtue of persistence. Every three hundred years, they punctually utilized that brief period to execute one more thrust, carefully prepared and placed, and carried out with a dreadfully complete abruptness, against some new point of human civilization-and this time the attack was going to come through on Noorhut.

“Something’s starting to move around in that hollow?” the pony announced suddenly. “It’s not one of their globe-detectors.”

“I know,” murmured Grandma. “That’s the first of the Halpa themselves.

They’re going to be right on schedule, it seems. But don’t get nervous. They can’t hurt anything until their transmitter comes through and revives them. We’ve got to be particularly careful now not to frighten them off. They seem to be even more sensitive to emotional tensions in their immediate surroundings than the globes.”

The pony made no reply. It knew what was at stake and why eight big ships were circling Noorhut somewhere beyond space-detection tonight.

It knew, too, that the ships would act only if it was discovered that Grandma had failed. But-The pony shook its head uneasily. The people on Treebel had never become civilized to the point of considering the possibility of taking calculated risks on a planetary scale—not to mention the fact that the lives of the pony and of Grandma were include d in the present calculation. In the eight years it had been accompanying her on her travels, it had developed a tremendous respect for Erisa Wannattel’s judgment and prowess. But, just the same, frightening the Halpa off, if it still could be done, seemed like a very sound idea right now to the pony.

As a matter of fact, as Grandma well knew, it probably could have been done at this stage by tossing a small firecracker into the hollow.

Until they had established their planetary foothold, the Halpa took extreme precautions. They could spot things in the class of radiation weapons a hundred miles away, and either that or any suggestion of local aggressiveness or of long-range observation would check the invasion attempt on Noorhut then and there.

But one of the principal reasons she was here tonight was to see that nothing did happen to stop it. For this assault would only be diverted against some other world then, and quite probably against one where the significance of the spying detector-globe s wouldn’t be understood before it was too late. The best information system in the Galaxy couldn’t keep more than an insignificant fraction of its population on the alert for dangers like that-She bounced suddenly to her feet and, at the same instant, the pony swung away from the hollow toward which it had been staring. They both stood for a moment then, turning their heads about, like baffled hounds trying to fix a scent on the wind.

“It’s Grimp!” Grandma exclaimed.

The rhinocerine pony snorted faintly. “Those are his thought images, all right,” it agreed. “He seems to feel you need protection. Can you locate him?”

“Not yet,” said Grandma anxiously. “Yes, I can. He’s coming up through the woods on the other side of the hollow, off to the left.

The little devil!” She was hustling back to the trailer. “Come on, I’ll have to ride you there. I can’t even dare use the g o-buggy this late in the day.”

The pony crouched beside the trailer while she quickly snapped on its saddle from the top of the back steps. Six metal rings had been welded into the horny plates of its back for this purpose, so it was a simple job. Grandma clambered aloft, hanging onto the saddle’s handrails.

“Swing wide of the hollow!” she warned. “This could spoil everything.

But make all the noise you want. The Halpa don’t care about noise as such—it has to have emotional content before they get interested—and the quicker Grimp spots us, the easier it will be to find him.”

The pony already was rushing down into the meadow at an amazing rate of speed—it took a lot of very efficient muscle to drive as heavy a body as that through the gluey swamps of Treebel. It swung wide of the hollow and of what it contained, crossed a shallow bog farther down the meadow with a sound like a charging torpedo-boat, and reached the woods.

It had to slow down then, to avoid brushing off Grandma.

“Grimp’s down that slope somewhere,” Grandma said. “He’s heard us.”

“They’re making a lot of noise!” Grimp’s thought reached them suddenly and clearly. He seemed to be talking to someone. “But we’re not scared of them, are we?”

“Bang-bang!” another thought-voice came excitedly.

“It’s the lortel,” Grandma and the pony said together.

“That’s the stuff!.” Grimp resumed approvingly. “We’ll sling-shoot them all if they don’t watch out. But we’d better find Grandma soon.”

“Grimp!” shouted Grandma. The pony backed her up with a roaring call.

“Hello?” came the lortel’s thought.

“Wasn’t that the pony?” asked Grimp. “All right—let’s go that way.”

“Here we come, Grimp!” Grandma shouted as the pony descended the steep side of a ravine with the straightforward technique of a rockslide.

“That’s Grandma!” thought Grimp. “Grandma!” he yelled. “Look out!

There’s monsters all around!”

“What you missed!” yelled Grimp, dancing around the pony as Grandma Wannattel scrambled down from the saddle. “There’s monsters all around the village and the Guardian killed one and I slingshot another till he fizzled out and I was coming to find you—”

“Your mother will be worried!” began Grandma as they rushed into each other’s arms.

“No,” grinned Grimp. “All the kids are supposed to be sleeping in the school house and she won’t look there till morning and the schoolteacher said the monsters were all”—he slowed down cautiously—“ho-lucy-nations. But he wouldn’t go look when the Guardian said they’d show him one. He stayed right in bed. But the Guardian’s all right—he killed one and I slingshot another and the lortel learned a new word. Say ‘bang-bang,’ lortel!” he invited.

“Hello!” squeaked the lortel.

“Aw,” said Grimp disappointedly. “He can say it, though. And I’ve come to take you to the village so the monsters don’t get you. Hello, pony!”

“Bang-bang,” said the lortel, distinctly.

“See?” cried Grimp. “He isn’t scared at all—he’s a real brave lortel! If we see some monsters don’t you get scared either, because I’ve got my slingshot,” he said, waving it blood-thirstily, “and two back pockets still full of medium stones. The way to do it is to kill them all!”

“It sounds like a pretty good idea, Grimp,” Grandma agreed. “But you’re awfully tired now.”

“No, I’m not!” Grimp said surprised. His right eye sagged shut and then his left; and he opened them both with an effort and looked at Grandma.

“That’s right,” he admitted. “I am ...”

“In fact,” said Grandma, “you’re asleep!”

“No, I’m—” objected Grimp. Then he sagged toward the ground, and Grandma caught him.

“In a way I hate to do it,” she panted, wrestling him aboard the pony which had lain down and flattened itself as much as it could to make it easier.

“He’d probably enjoy it. But we can’t take a chance. He’s a husky little devil, too,” she groaned, giving a final boost, “and those ammunition pockets don’t make him any lighter!” She clambered up again herself and noticed that the lortel had transferred itself to her coat collar.

The pony stood up cautiously.

“Now what?” it said.

“Might as well go straight to the hollow,” said Grandma, breathing hard.

“We’ll probably have to wait around there a few hours, but if we’re careful it won’t do any harm.”