menu_book Chapter 1

MISSING LINK by Frank Herbert The story was first published in Astounding Science-Fiction, February 1959. We ought to scrape this planet clean of every living thing on it, muttered Umbo Stetson, section chief of investigation and adjustment. Stetson paced the landing-control bridge of his scout cruiser. His footsteps grated on a floor that was the rear wall of the bridge during flight. But now the ship rested on its tail-fins, all four hundred glistening red and black meters of it.

The open ports of the bridge looked out on the jungle roof of Guyana III, some one hundred fifty meters below. A butter yellow sun hung above the horizon, perhaps an hour from setting. Clean as an egg, he barked. He paused in his round of the bridge, glared out the starboard port, spat into the fire-blackened circle that the cruiser's jets had burned from the jungle. The IA section chief was dark-haired, gangling, with large head and big features.

He stood in his customary slouch, a stance not improved by sack-like patched blue fatigues. Although on this present operation he rated the flag of a division admiral, his fatigues carried no insignia. There was a general unkempt, straggling look about him. Louis Arne, junior IA field man with a maiden diploma, stood at the opposite port, studying the jungle horizon. Now and then he glanced at the bridge control console, the chronometer above it, the big trans-light map of their position, tilted from the opposite bulkhead.

A heavy planet native, he felt vaguely uneasy on this Guyana III, with its gravity of only seven-eighths Terran standard. The surgical scars on his neck, where the microcommunications equipment had been inserted, itched maddeningly. He scratched. Ha! said Stetson, politicians! A thin black insect with shell-like wings flew in Arne's port, settled in his close-cropped red hair. Arne pulled the insect gently from his hair, released it. Again it tried to land in his hair. He ducked. It flew across the bridge, out the port beside Stetson.

There was a thick-muscled, no-fat look to Arne, but something about his blocky off-center features suggested a clown. I'm getting tired of waiting, he said. You're tired, ha! A breeze rippled the tops of the green ocean below them. Here and there red and purple flowers jutted from the verdure, bending and nodding like an attentive audience. Look at that blasted jungle! barked Stetson. Them and their stupid Arters!

A call-bell tinkled on the bridge control console. The red light above the speaker-grid began blinking. Stetson shot an angry glance at it. Yeah, Hal? Okay, Stet, Arters just came through. We used plan C. Com-Geo said to brief the Field-Man and jet out of here. Did you ask them about using another Field-Man? Arne looked up attentively. The speaker said, Yes, they said we have to use Arne because of the records on the Delphinus.

Well then, will they give us more time to brief him? Negative, it's crash priority. Com-Geo expects to blast the planet anyway. Stetson glared at the grid. Those fat-headed, lord-bottomed, pig-brained politicians! He took two deep breaths, subsided. Okay, tell them we'll comply. One more thing, Stet.

What now? I've got a confirmed contact. Instantly Stetson was poised on the balls of his feet. Alert! Where? About ten kilometers out, section AAB-6.

How many? Hey, Mob, you want I should count them? No. What are they doing? Making a B-line for us. You better get a move on.

Okay, keep us posted. Right. Stetson looked across at his junior field-man. Arne, if you decide you want out of this assignment, you just say the word. I'll back you to the hilt. Why should I want out of my first field assignment?

Listen and find out. Stetson crossed to a tilt-locker behind the big trans-light map. Hall dot a white coverall uniform with gold insignia, tossed it to Arne. Get into these while I brief you on the map. But this is an R&R you—began Arne. Get that uniform on your ugly frame.

Yes, sir, Admiral Stetson, sir, right away, sir. But I thought I was through with old rediscovery and re-education when you drafted me off of Hummel into the IA, sir. He began changing from the IA blue to the R&R white. Almost as an afterthought he said, sir. A wolfish grin cracked Stetson's big features. I'm so happy you have the proper attitude of subservience toward authority.

Arne zipped up the coverall uniform. Oh, yes, sir, sir. Okay, Arne, pay attention. Stetson gestured at the map with its green superimposed grid squares. Here we are. Here's that city we flew over on our way down.

You head for it as soon as we drop you. The place is big enough that if you hold a course roughly northeast you can't miss it. We're— Again the call bell rang. What is it this time, Hall? barked Stetson.

They've changed to Plan H, Stet. New orders cut. Five days? That's all they can give us. Comm-Gio said he can't keep the information out of High Commissioner Bullone's hands any longer than that. It's five days for sure, then. Is this the usual R&R foul-up? asked Arne.

Stetson nodded. Thanks to Bullone and company. We're just one jump ahead of catastrophe, but they still pump the bullwash into the R&R boys back at dear old Uni Galacta. You're making light of my revered alma mater, said Arne. He struck a pose.

We must reunite the lost planets with our centers of culture and industry and take up the glorious onward march of mankind that was so brutally— Can it? snapped Stetson. We both know we're going to rediscover one planet too many one day. Rim wore all over again. But this is a different breed of fish.

It's not, repeat, not a re-discovery. Arne sobered. Alien? Yes, A-L-I-E-N, a never-before-contacted culture. That language you were force-fed on the way over?

That's an alien language. It's not complete. All we have off the minis, and we excluded data on the natives, because we've been hoping to dump this project in nobody the wiser. Holy Mazzou! Twenty-six days ago, and I, a search-ship, came through here, had a routine mini-sneaker look at the place.

When he combed in his net of sneakers to check the tapes and films, lo and behold, he had a little stranger. One of theirs? No, it was a mini off the Delphinus re-discovery. The Delphinus has been unreported for eighteen standard months. Did it crack up here?

We don't know. If it did, we haven't been able to spot it. She was supposed to be way off in the Belladine system by now, but we've something else on our minds. It's the one item that makes me want to blot out this place and run home with my tail between my legs. We've a—

Again the call-bell chimed. Now what? roared Stetson into the speaker. I've got a mini over that mob, Stet. They're talking about us.

It's a definite raiding party. What armament? Too gloomy in that jungle, to be sure. The infra-beams out on this mini. Looks like hard-pellet rifles of some kind.

Might even be off the Delphinus. Can't you get any closer? Wouldn't do any good. No light down there, and they're moving up fast. Keep an eye on them, but don't ignore the other sectors, said Stetson. You think I was born yesterdy? barked the voice from the grid.

The contact broke off with an angry sound. One thing I like about the I.A., said Stetson, it collects such even tempered types. He looked at the white uniform on Orn, wiped a hand across his mouth as though he tasted something dirty. Why am I wearing this thing? asked Orn. Disguise.

But there's no moustache! Stetson smiled without humor. That's one of I.A.'s answers to those fat keistered politicians. We're setting up our own search system to find the planets before they do. We've managed to put spies in key places at R. and R. Any touchy planets our spies report, we divert the files.

Then what? Then we look into them with bright boys like you, disguised as R. and R. field men. Goody, goody! And what happens if R. and R. stumbles on to me while I'm down there playing patty-cake? We disown you. But you said an I.A. ship found this joint.

It did. And then one of our spies in R. and R. intercepted a routine request for an agent-instructor to be assigned here with full equipment. Request signed by a first contact officer, name of Diston, of the Delphinus. But the Del... Yeah, missing. The request was a forgery.

Now you see why I'm mostly for rubbing out this place. Who'd dare forge such a thing unless he knew for sure that the original F.C. officer was missing or dead? What the jumped up Mizzou are we doing here, Stet? asked Orn. Alien calls for a full contact team with all of the... He calls for one planet-buster bomb-buster in five days.

Unless you give them a white bill in the meantime. High Commissioner Boulogne will have word of this planet by then. If Guyana III still exists in five days, you can't imagine the fun the politicians will have with it. Mamma mia! We want this planet cleared for contact or dead before then. I don't like this, Stet.

You don't like it. Look, said Orn, there must be another way. Why, when we teamed up with the Alerinoids we gained five hundred years in the physical sciences alone. Not to mention the... the Alerinoids didn't knock over one of our survey ships first. What if the Delphinus just crashed here and the locals picked up the pieces?

That's what you're going in to find out, Orn. But answer me this. If they do have the Delphinus, how long before a tool using race could be a threat to the galaxy? I saw that city they built, Stet. They could be dug in within six months, and there'd be no... yeah.

Orn shook his head. But think of it. Two civilizations that matured along different lines. Think of all the different ways we'd approach the same problems. The lever that'd give us for...

You sound like a Uni Galacta lecture. Are you through marching arm in arm into the misty future? Orn took a deep breath. Why is a freshman like me being tossed into this dish? You'd still be on the Delphinus master lists as an R&R fieldman.

That's important if you're masquerading. Am I the only one? I know I'm a recent convert. But you want out? I didn't say that. I just want to know why I'm... Because the Big Domes fed a set of requirements into one of their iron monsters. Your card popped out.

They were looking for somebody capable, dependable, and expendable. Hey, that's why I'm down here briefing you instead of sitting back on a flagship. I got you into the I.A. Now, you listen carefully. If you push the panic button on this one without cause, I will personally flay you alive.

We both know the advantages of an alien contact. But if you get into a hot spot and call for help, I'll dive this cruiser into that city to get you out. Orn swallowed. Thanks, Stet. I'm... We're going to take up a tight orbit. Out beyond us will be five transports full of I.A. Marines and a Class IX monitor with one planet-buster.

You're calling the shots, God help you. First we want to know if they have the Delphinus, and if so where it is. Next we want to know just how warlike these goons are. We control them if they're bloodthirsty. What's their potential? In five days?

Not a second more. What do we know about them? Not much. They look something like an ancient Terran chimpanzee, only with blue fur. Face is hairless, pink-skinned. Stetson snapped a switch. The Translite map became a screen with a figure frozen on it.

Like that. This is life-size. Looks like the missing link they're always hunting for, said Orn. Yeah, but you've got a different kind of a missing link. Vertical slit pupils in their eyes, said Orn. He studied the figure. It had been caught from the front by a mini-sneaker camera, about five feet tall.

The stance was slightly bent forward, long arms, two vertical nose slits, a flat, lipless mouth, receding chin, four-fingered hands. It wore a wide belt from which dangled neat pouches and what looked like tools, although their use was obscure. There appeared to be the tip of a tail protruding from behind one of the squat legs. Behind the creature towered the fairy spires of the city they'd observed from the air. Tails? asked Orn.

Yeah, they're arboreal. Not a road on the whole planet that we can find, but there are a lot of vine lanes through the jungles. Stetson's face hardened. Match that with a city as advanced as that one. Slave culture? Probably. How many cities have they? We've found two, this one and another on the other side of the planet, but the other one's a ruin.

A ruin? Why? You tell us. Lots of mysteries here. What's the planet like? Mostly jungle. There are polar oceans, lakes and rivers. One low mountain chain follows the equatorial belt about two-thirds around the planet. But only two cities? Are you sure? Reasonably so. It'd be pretty hard to miss something the size of that thing we flew over.

It must be fifty kilometers long and at least ten wide. Swarming with these creatures, too. We've got a zone count estimate that places the city's population at over thirty million. Hoo-wee! Those are tall buildings, too. We don't know much about this place, Orin, and unless you bring them into the fold there'll be nothing but ashes for our archaeologists to pick over. Seems a dirty shame.

I agree, but— The call bell jangled. Stetson's voice sounded tired. Yeah, Hal, that mob's only about five kilometers out, Stet. We've got Orin's gear outside in the disguised air-sled. We'll be right down. Why a disguised sled? asked Orin.

If they think it's a ground buggy they might get careless when you most need an advantage. We could always scoop you out of the air, you know. What are my chances on this one, Stet? Stetson shrugged. I'm afraid they're slim. These goons probably have the Delphinus, and they want you just long enough to get your equipment and everything you know. Rough as that, eh? According to our best guess, if you're not out in five days we blast.

Orin cleared his throat. Want out? asked Stetson. No. Use the back-door rule, son. Always leave yourself a way out. Now let's check that equipment the surgeons put in your neck.

Stetson put a hand to his throat. His mouth remained closed, but there was a surf-hissing voice in Orin's ear. You read me? Sure I can. No! hissed the voice. Touch the mic-contact. Keep your mouth closed. Just use your speaking muscles without speaking. Orin obeyed. Okay, said Stetson. You come in loud and clear. I ought to. I'm right on top of you.

There'll be a relay ship over you all the time, said Stetson. Now, when you're not touching that mic-contact, this rig'll still feed us what you say, and everything that goes on around you, too. We'll monitor everything. Got that? Yes. Stetson held out his right hand. Good luck. I mean that, about diving in for you. Just say the word. I know the word, too, said Orin. Help!

Gray mud floor and gloomy aisles between monstrous bluish tree-trunks. That was the jungle. Only the barest weak glimmering of sunlight penetrated to the mud. The disguised sled, its paragrav units turned off, lurched and skidded around buttress roots. Its headlights swung in wild arcs across the trunks and down to the mud. Aerial creepers, great looping vines of them, swung down from the towering forest ceiling. A steady drip of condensation splattered the windshield, forcing Orin to use the wipers. In the bucket seat of the sled's cab, Orin fought the controls. He was plagued by the vague slow-motion floating sensation that a heavy planet native always feels in lighter gravity. It gave him an unhappy stomach. Things skipped through the air around the lurching vehicle, flitting and darting things. Insects came in twin cones, siphoned toward the headlights. There was an endless, chittering, whistling, tuck-tuck-tucking in the gloom beyond the lights. Stetson's voice hissed suddenly through the surgically implanted speaker.

How's it look? Alien. Any sign of that mob? Negative. Okay, we're taking off.

Behind Orin there came a deep, rumbling roar that receded as the scout cruiser climbed its jets. All other sounds hung suspended in after silence, then resumed, the strongest first and then the weakest. A heavy object suddenly arced through the headlights, swinging on a vine. It disappeared behind a tree. Another. Another. Ghostly shadows with vine pendulums on both sides. Something banged down heavily onto the hood of the sled.

Orin braced to a creaking stop that shifted the load behind him, found himself staring through the windshield at a native of Guyana III. The native crouched on the hood, a Mark XX exploding pellet rifle in his right hand directed at Orin's head. In the abrupt shock of meeting Orin recognized the weapon, standard issue to the Marine Guards on all R&R survey ships. The native appeared the twin of the one Orin had seen on the trans-light screen. The four-fingered hand looked extremely capable around the stock of the Mark XX. Slowly Orin put a hand to his throat, pressed the contact button. He moved his speaking muscles.

Just made contact with the mob. One on the hood now has one of our Mark XX rifles aimed at my head. The surf-hissing of Stetson's voice came through the hidden speaker. Want us to come back? Negative. Stand by. He looks cautious rather than hostile.

Orin held up his right hand, palm out. He had a second thought, held up his left hand too. Universal symbol of peaceful intentions. Empty hands. The gun muzzle lowered slightly. Orin called into his mind the language that had been hypno-forced into him. O-Kiro? No, that means the people. Ah, and he had the heavy fricative greeting sound. Firogy-ragrazi? He said.

The native shifted to the left, answered in pure, unaccented, high galactese. Who were you? Orin fought down sudden panic. The lipless mouth had looked so odd forming the familiar words. Stetson's voice hissed. Is that native-speaking galactese? Orin touched his throat. You heard him. He dropped his hand, said, I am Louis Orin of Rediscovery and Re-Education. I was sent here at the request of the First Contact Officer on the Delphinus Rediscovery.

Where is your ship? demanded the Gaennan. It put me down and left. Why? It was behind schedule for another appointment. Out of the corners of his eyes Orin saw more shadows dropping to the mud around him.

The sled shifted as someone climbed onto the load behind the cab. Then someone scuttled agilely for a moment. The native climbed down to the cab's side step, opened the door. The rifle was held at the ready. Again the lipless mouth formed galactese words. What do you carry in this vehicle? The equipment every R. and R. Fieldman uses to help the people of a rediscovered planet improve themselves. Orin nodded at the rifle.

Would you mind pointing that weapon some other direction? It makes me nervous. The gun muzzle remained unwaveringly on Orin's middle. The native's mouth opened, revealing long canines. Do we not look strange to you? I take it there's been a heavy mutational variation in the humanoid norm on this planet? said Orin. What is it, hard radiation? No answer.

It doesn't really make any difference of course, said Orin. I'm here to help you. I am Tanub, High Path Chief of the Grazi, said the native. I decide who is to help. Orin swallowed. Where do you go? demanded Tanub. I was hoping to go to your city. Is it permitted? A long pause while the vertical slit pupils of Tanub's eyes expanded and contracted. It is permitted.

Stetson's voice came through the hidden speaker. All bets off. We're coming in after you. That Marked 20 is the final straw. It means they have the Delphinus for sure. Orin touched his throat. No! Give me a little more time. Why?

I have a hunch about these creatures. What is it? No time now. Trust me. Another long pause in which Orin and Tanub continued to study each other. Presently Stenton said, Okay, go ahead as planned, but find out where the Delphinus is. If we get that back we pull their teeth. Why do you keep touching your throat? demanded Tanub.

I'm nervous, said Orin. Guns always make me nervous. The muzzle lowered slightly. Shall we continue on to your city? asked Orin. He wet his lips with his tongue. The cab light on Tanub's face was giving the Gaianin an eerie sinister look. We can go soon, said Tanub. Will you join me inside here? asked Orin. There is a passenger seat right behind me.

Tanub's eyes moved cat-like, right, left. Yes. He turned, barked an order into the jungle gloom, then climbed in behind Orin. Where do we go? asked Orin. The great sun will be down soon, said Tanub. We can continue as soon as Chiran-Akruso rises. Chiran-Akruso?

Our satellite, our moon, said Tanub. It's a beautiful word, said Orin. Chiran-Akruso. In our tongue it means the limb of victory, said Tanub. By its light we will continue. Orin turned, looked back at Tanub. Do you mean to tell me that you can see by what light gets down here through those trees? Can you not see? asked Tanub.

Not without the headlights. Our eyes differ, said Tanub. He bent toward Orin, peered. The vertical slit pupils of his eyes expanded, contracted. You are the same as the others. Oh, on the Delphinus? Pause. Yes.

Presently a greater gloom came over the jungle, bringing a sudden stillness to the wildlife. There was a chittering commotion from the natives and the trees around the sled. Tanub shifted behind Orin. We may go now, he said slowly, to stay behind my scouts. Right. Orin eased the sled forward around an obstructing route. Silence while they crawled ahead. Around them shapes flung themselves from vine to vine.

I admired your city from the air, said Orin. It is very beautiful. Yes, said Tanub. Why did you land so far from it? We didn't want to come down where we might destroy anything. There is nothing to destroy in the jungle, said Tanub. Why do you have such a big city? asked Orin. Silence.

I said, why do you— You are ignorant of our ways, said Tanub. Therefore, I forgive you. The city is for our race. We must breed and be born in sunlight. Once, long ago, we used crude platforms on the tops of the trees. Now only the wild ones do this, Stinton's voice hissed in Orin's ear. Easy on the sex-line, boy. That's always touchy. These creatures are oviparous. Sex-glans are apparently hidden in that long fur behind where their chins ought to be.

Who controls the breeding-sites controls our world, said Tanub. Once there was another city. We destroyed it. Are there many wild ones? asked Orin. Fewer each year, said Tanub. There's how they get their slaves, hissed Stinton. You speak excellent Galactese, said Orin. The High Path Chief commanded the best teacher, said Tanub. Do you two know many things, Orin?

That's why I was sent here, said Orin. Are there many planets to teach, said Tanub? Very many, said Orin. Your city—I saw very tall buildings. Of what do you build them? In your tongue—glass, said Tanub. The engineers of the Delphinus said it was impossible. As you saw, they are wrong. A glass-blowing culture, hissed Stinton. That'd explain a lot of things.

Slowly the disguised sled crept through the jungle. Once a scout swooped down into the headlights, waved. Orin stopped on Tanub's order, and they waited almost ten minutes before proceeding. Wild ones? asked Orin. Perhaps, said Tanub. A glowing of many lights grew visible through the giant tree-trunks. It grew brighter as the sled crept through the last of the jungle, emerged in clear land at the edge of the city. Orin stared upward in awe. The city fluted and spiraled into the moonlit sky. It was a fragile-appearing lacery of bridges winking dots of light.

The bridges wove back and forth from building to building, until the entire visible network appeared one gigantic dew-glittering web. All that with glass, murmured Orin. What's happening? hissed Stetson. Orin touched his throat contact. We're just into the city clearing, proceeding toward the nearest building.

This is far enough, said Tanub. Orin stopped the sled. In the moonlight he could see armed Gaennans all around. The buttressed pedestal of one of the buildings loomed directly ahead. It looked taller than had the scout cruiser in its jungle-landing circle. Tanub leaned close to Orin's shoulder. We have not deceived you, have we, Orn?

Huh? What do you mean? You have recognized that we are not mutated members of your race. Orin swallowed. Into his ears came Stetson's voice. Better admit it. That's true, said Orn. I like you, Orn, said Tanub. You shall be one of my slaves. You will teach me many things.

How did you capture the Dauphinus? asked Orn. You know that too? You have one of their rifles, said Orn. Your race is no match for us, Orn, in cunning, in strength, in the prowess of the mind. Your ship landed to repair its tubes, very inferior ceramics in those tubes. Orin turned, looked at Tanub in the dim glow of the cab-light.

Have you heard about the I.A., Tanub? I.A.? What is that? There was a wary tenseness in the Guyanian's figure. His mouth opened to reveal the long canines. You took the Dauphinus by treachery, asked Orn. They were simple fools, said Tanub. We are smaller, thus they thought us weaker.

The Mark XX's muzzle came around to center on Orn's stomach. You have not answered my question. What is the I.A.? I am of the I.A., said Orn. Where have you hidden the Dauphinus? In the place that suits us best, said Tanub. In all our history there has never been a better place.

What do you plan to do with it? asked Orn. Within a year we will have a copy with our own improvements. After that— You intend to start a war? asked Orn. In the jungle the strong slay the weak until only the strong remain, said Tanub. And then the strong prey upon each other? asked Orn.

That is a quibble for women, said Tanub. It's too bad you feel that way, said Orn. When two cultures meet like this they tend to help each other. What have you done with the crew of the Dauphinus? They are slaves, said Tanub, those who still live. Some resisted. Others objected to teaching us what we want to know.

He waved the gun muzzle. You will not be that foolish, will you, Orn? No need to be, said Orn. I have another little lesson to teach you. I already know where you've hidden the Dauphinus. Go, boy! hissed Stetson. Where is it?

Impossible! barked Tanub. It's on your moon, said Orn, dark side. It's on a mountain on the dark side of your moon. Tanub's eyes dilated, contracted. You read minds? The I.A. has no need to read minds, said Orn. We rely on superior mental prowess. The marines are on their way, hissed Stetson. We're coming in to get you. I'm going to want to know how you guessed that one.

You are a weak fool, like the others, gritted Tanub. It's too bad you formed your opinion of us by observing only the low grades of the R and R, said Orn. Easy, boy, hissed Stetson. Don't pick a fight with him now. Remember his race is arboreal. He's probably as strong as an ape. I could kill you where you sit, gritted Tanub. You write finish for your entire planet if you do, said Orn. I'm not alone. There are others listening to every word we say.

There's a ship overhead that could split open your planet with one bomb, wash it with molten rock. It'd run like the glass you use for your buildings. You are lying. We'll make an offer, said Orn. We don't really want to exterminate you. We'll give you limited membership in the Galactic Federation until you prove you're no menace to us. Keep talking, hissed Stetson. Keep him interested. You dare insult me, growled Tanub. You had better believe me, said Orn. We—

Stetson's voice interrupted him. Got it, Orn? They caught the Delphinus on the ground right where you said it'd be. Blew the tubes off it. Marines now mopping up. It's like this, said Orn. We already have recaptured the Delphinus. Tanub's eyes went instinctively skyward. Except for the captured armament you still hold, you obviously don't have the weapons to meet us, continued Orn. Otherwise you wouldn't be carrying that rifle off the Delphinus.

If you speak the truth, then we shall die bravely, said Tanub. No need for you to die, said Orn. Better to die than be slaves, said Tanub. We don't need slaves, said Orn. We— I cannot take the chance that you are lying, said Tanub. I must kill you now.

Orn's foot rested on the air-sled control-pedal. He depressed it. Instantly the sleds shot skyward, heavy jeez pressing them down into the seats. The gun in Tanub's hands was slapped into his lap. He struggled to raise it. To Orn the weight was still only about twice that of his home planet of Chargon. He reached over, took the rifle, found the safety-belts, bound Tanub with them. Then he eased off the acceleration.

We don't need slaves, said Orn. We have machines to do our work. We'll send experts in here, teach you people how to exploit your planet, how to build good transportation facilities, show you how to mine your minerals, how to— And what do we do in return? whispered Tanub. You could start by teaching us how to make your superior glass, said Orn. I certainly hope you see things our way. We really don't want to have to come down here and clean you out.

It'd be a shame to have to blast that city into little pieces. Tanub wilted. Presently he said, Send me back. I will discuss this with our council. He stared at Orn. You I A's are too strong. We did not know.

In the wardroom of Stetson's Scout Cruiser the lights were low, the leather chairs comfortable, the green beige table set with a decanter of Hochar brandy and two glasses. Orn lifted his glass, sipped the liquor, smacked his lips. For a while there I thought I'd never be tasting anything like this again. Stetson took his own glass. Com-Gio heard the whole thing over the General Monitor Net, he said.

Do you know you've been breveted to senior field men? Ah, they've already recognized my sterling worth, said Orn. The wolfish grin took over Stetson's big features. Senior field men last about half as long as the juniors, he said. Mortality's terrific? I might have known, said Orn.

He took another sip of the brandy. Stetson flicked on the switch of a recorder beside him. Okay, you can go ahead any time. Where do you want me to start? First, how'd you spot right away where they'd hidden the Delphinus?

Easy. Tanub's word for his people was Grazi. Most races call themselves something meaning the people. But in his tongue that's Ochiro. Grazi wasn't on the translated list.

I started working on it. The most likely answer was that it had been adopted from another language and meant enemy. And that told you where the Delphinus was? No, but it fitted my hunch about these Guyanians. I kind of felt from the first minute of meeting them that they had a culture like the Indians of ancient Chera.

Why? They came in like a primitive raiding party. The leader dropped right onto the hood of my sled. An act of bravery no less. Counting coop, you see?

I guess so. Then he said he was High Path Chief. That wasn't on the language list either, but it was easy. Raider Chief. There's a word in almost every language in history that means Raider, and derives from a word for Road, Path, or Highway.

Highwaymen, said Stetson. Raid itself, said Orn, an ancient Terran language corruption of Road. Yeah, yeah, but where'd all this translation griff, but don't be impatient. Glass-blowing culture meant they were just out of the primitive stage. That we could control.

Next he said their moon was Chiranakruso, translated as the limb of victory. After that it just fell into place. How? The vertical slit pupils of their eyes. Doesn't that mean anything to you?

Maybe. What's it mean to you? Night-hunting predator accustomed to dropping upon its victims from above. No other type of creature ever has had the vertical slit. And Tannub said himself that the Delphinus was hidden in the best place in all their history.

History? That'd be a high place. Dark likewise. Ergo, a high place on the dark side of their moon. I'm a pie-eyed Greepus, whispered Stetson.

Orn grinned, said, You probably are. A-sir. End of Missing Link