'-those were explosions out there, shells and bombs and stuff, as though a war were going on.' While he mused over this, Jerry had pulled back on the wheel and fed full power to the engines and the leviathan of the skies roared up and away from the tumult below.
'I don't think we should mix in a war,' John opined. Jerry nodded agreement. 'Particularly since that hole in the wing ruptured our main fuel tank and we only have about fifteen minutes' fuel left.'
'That is annoying,' Chuck agreed. 'Better buckle your seat belts, guys,' and he turned on the 'seat belts' and 'no smoking' signs as he said this.
The Pleasantville Eagle clawed its way back into the sky reaching for altitude to stretch its meager fuel supply to the upmost, fighting to clear the immense area of the strange battlefield below. They were above the clouds, droning away merrily, while the fuel needles loudly clicked, one by one, against their bottom pins. Then came the moment they had awaited and feared as, one by one, the greedy engines sucked in the last drops of fuel, then gurgled and gasped into silence. The instant the powerful thrust stopped the ship fell off into a dive, plunged toward the woolly clouds below it, diving into their misty embrace. None of the three comrades said anything, but if pulses hammered faster and jaws were clenched more firmly, who was to blame them? Anything could be waiting below the clouds.
What was waiting, they saw when they plunged through the bottom of the fleecy layer, was not very much of anything at all. From horizon to horizon, shadowed by the thick clouds above, lay a sandy waste barren of life of any kind.
'I don't think we should land down there,' John said, speaking for all of them.
Jerry stretched the glide with all his considerable talent, but though he could fight, he could not win against the inexorable grip of gravity that clutched at the 747 with greedy fingers. The featureless desert flashed by below them, ever closer, and dimly far ahead a range of mountains appeared.
'Quick, the glasses!' Chuck exclaimed, leaning forward and peering intently into the distance. John slapped them into his hand, and in an instant he had them trained on the ground. 'There's a fort there of some kind, I can see a flag waving over it, and explosions all around it, more fighting I guess. Yes, there are vehicles of some kind circling it, firing, and guns on the wall firing back. I can see the defenders now! Why, they're almost human except maybe they have an extra couple of arms, but what does that matter!'
'Who are they fighting?' Jerry asked, concentrating firmly on the controls.
'Hard to tell – wait – one of their cars just got blown over, the driver is crawling out and . . . ugggh!'
'Ugggh?'
'That's the word for it. A thing with a sort of repulsive purplish yellow body like a tree trunk with sort of openings all over it, four legs like smaller tree trunks and black tentacles sprouting on top where a real person would have a head.'
'Well that's enough for me!' Jerry shouted for them all.
'We just have to come in on the side of the humanoids
'and show those uggghs what real humans can do.'
'Right!' Chuck agreed. 'But what can we do?'
'You've got a point there. Any ideas, guys?'
It was John, trained spy and saboteur, who quickly came up with the answer. 'All the seats dismount easily. Make a turn and come back over the enemy and we'll show them what men can do against those purple scum.' And show them they did. As the Pleasantville Eagle swooped down like its avenging namesake, from the opened emergency doors on each side dropped a stream of metal seats. Dropped straight and true as though aimed by computing bombsights, each seat plunging headlong onto one of the fleeing vehicles.
And the ruse worked. It was not obvious how much damage the chairborne attack had done, but it had apparently broken the spirit of the enemy, for they now fled with their tentacles tucked between their legs, across the desert to vanish in the range of hills. Cheers broke out in the cabin, and through the whistling slipstream, echoing cheers could be heard from the defenders below. Jerry whipped the plane about in a tight turn and with their last bit of speed brought the Eagle safely home to roost on the smooth desert floor, braking to a stop in the shadow of the fort's high walls.
'Here,' Jerry said, passing on the electric razor to the others after he had used it. 'Let's neaten up, give these guys the right impression.'
They all agreed on this, and by the time they had used deodorant too and brushed the last green stain of Titanian ichor from their clothing, combed their hair and renewed Sally's frozen oxygen a reception committee was waiting for them at the foot of the folding stairway that automatically slipped out of the plane's side when the entrance was opened. Step by step they descended to the historical moment when humanoid met humanoid for the first time across the trackless oceans of space. Each group examined the other with unabashed curiosity. What the aliens saw was, of course, the three Americans. What the Americans saw were three aliens. They had very smooth, white, shining skin, and when the first one raised his steel helmet in greeting, they saw that the humanoids were hairless as well. The pupils of their eyes were shaped like the number 8 and were bright pink. They wore no clothes but instead were draped about with a leather harness from which were suspended a number of weapons as well as other items not easily identifiable. Then, upon a shouted signal from their leader – the one in front whose helmet was gold instead of black like the others – they pulled out their swords and raised them in salute. The three Americans jumped to attention and returned the salute snappily, although John raised his clenched fist first before remembering and quickly touching his forefinger to his brow, hand and forearm straight, longest way up and shortest way down, like the others. Then the steel of the swords rasped back into the scabbards, and the leader stepped forward:
'Sdrah stvoo ee tyeh,' he gurgled in a deep voice.
'Though we are strangers from across the deeps of space and do not speak your fine though incomprehensible language, nevertheless we come in peace and bring you greetings from the men of planet Earth, and particularly the United States,' Jerry answered.
'Daw braw yeh oo traw,' John said. 'He was just saying hello in Russian, and I told him good morning back.'
'Jumping Jehoshaphat,' Chuck whispered. 'You don't think they're Commies, do you?' They all stepped backward cautiously.
'No Commies,' the leader said, smiling a toothless grin, since he had a bony ridge instead of teeth, and raising his helmet again in greeting. 'We are the Ormoloo who battle against the repulsive Garnishee from whom you saved us and for which we will be internally grateful.'
'You speak English pretty well for an Ormoloo,' Jerry said.
'For many years our powerful radio receivers have been picking up radio transmissions from your planet, and we have studied them and have learned your language. Men of Earth and of the great country the United States of America, I return your greetings and welcome you in peace to our planet Domite. Everything we have is at your disposal on this most momentous occasion. A banquet has been prepared in your honor, and we beg you to grace our table with your noble democratic presences.'
'Lead the way,' Chuck said, and they did.
The three Earthmen looked around with wonder at the inside of the fort. In some way it was very much like a desert fort on Earth with plastered walls and a crenellated top above the firing step. But here the resemblance ended, for the Ormoloo had a fantastic assortment of strange weapons, some of which defied description. They then and there determined to examine these later to see how they worked. The leader, who had introduced himself as Steigen-Sterben, turned and smiled his toothless grin back at them.
'Later you must examine our weapons and see how they work,' he said.
They nodded agreement and entered the banquet hall, where each was conducted to a place of honor at the long table. The table was bare except for a clay bowl before each place filled with cool water. After they were all seated, Steigen-Sterben raised his hand and all of the heads were lowered as he spoke.
'Oh, Great Spirit who lives in the Other World above, we thank you for what you have provided.' The prayer over, they raised their heads, and Chuck nudged Jerry in the ribs and whispered.
'They must be great guys, with religion and everything,' and Jerry agreed.
Now the waiters appeared carrying great baskets, and with three-pronged tines, they scooped out mounds of what looked like green grass and deposited them on the bare table before each diner. As soon as they had all been served, Steigen-Sterben signaled, and they all fell to with a will, bending over and munching up mouthfuls of the
