is, it is stable, but we know from past disasters of our fragility, of the tenuous hold we have on life.'
'You have five planets.' Rei said.
'To each a purpose.' Miaree said. 'Each carefully balanced and a part of the whole.'
Rei was silent. The floater, the hum of the drive sucked behind them by the wind, seemed to move on nothingness, rocked slightly by the running waves which sent spray from the prow. He was impressed by the beautiful female’s poise, as he had been impressed by the demonstration of the hand weapon. The weapon, he reasoned, was light, a tight beam. The principle was not unfamiliar to him. Each of the approaching star ships, with its precious cargo, was armed with weapons based on the same physical principle. Each skip was capable of destroying anything in its path. Had there been time, for example, he could have burned his way through the asteroid belt which killed his own ship.
When the distant shore was close enough for him to see with his naked
eye the forms of other Artonuee waiting at the dock, he spoke again. 'Has the decision been made?'
She was not ready to answer, but his directness demanded it. She looked back at the high cliffs and sighed. 'We have made no decisions.'
'You have five worlds,' Rei said. 'Each is thinly populated.'
'Please,' Miaree said. 'Not here.'
He glanced at the two male crewmen. Sullen faces returned his look.
The male eyes were smaller, but of the same general construction. Only the outer circle of facets were missing.
Forbidden to talk, he observed. The female sat with a straight back, her face in profile to him. The air was cool and pleasant on his face. He contented himself with watching the activity on the shore, seeing adult females herd scampering young ahead of them as if to prevent contact with the alien. When the floater drew abreast of the dock there were only two females and a contingent of males on the structure.
Miaree stood, motioned him to precede her. He climbed out of the floater and extended both his hands toward the assembled group. The males stared at him dourly. The tallest of the two females smiled and imitated his motion, both delicate hands extended.
Miaree did not speak. She indicated the passage leading from the dock into a gleaming structure. The doors leading off the passageway were closed. Behind them he heard the musical voices of the young. From the front, as he boarded a ground vehicle, he could see the vast extent of the complex of buildings on the shore of the inland sea. He seated himself in the rear next to Miaree.
The roller moved smoothly over the terrain. There were no roads. However, the ground showed indications of former passage of vehicles and, rounding a hill, he saw something which sent a shock of disbelief through him. It was a primitive rocket. Flared tubes indicated that it was chemical. It was an anachronistic monster in gleaming metals, totally out of keeping with his preconceived ideas about a race which sent messages to the stars. He said nothing, however, since his escort seemed disinclined to talk. He climbed the series of steps to the entrance port, entered, saw the passenger compartment and was taken back in time. Vehicles such as this were rare at home, to be seen only in the best museums which housed the antiquities of his race.
He was alone with the female. He heard the rumble of the engines, felt the lift. He felt a bit like biting his fingernails, but forced himself to be calm until the bellowing of the engines had reached a peak and they had muted themselves. It took long minutes. Afloat in space, he asked, 'Chemical fuels?'
She looked at him. Her lips were closed in a tight line.
'Our engines are powered by fusion.' he said.
'Yes,' she said, in his language.
He spoke in technical terms. He was no atomic expert, but he had passed a basic course before joining the fleet.
'Your faster-than-light ships operate on the same principle, I assume?' he asked.
'Of course,' she said.
He did not smile, although he’d thrown into his discourse on engines some hopelessly muddled gobble de gook. Obviously, the female had either been ordered not to share knowledge, or—as it seemed likely from the primitive rocket, which was now approaching an artificial satellite—these lovely Artonuee knew nothing about atomics, were not in deep space, but were limited to chemical travel between their rather closely situated worlds.
He turned his attentions to the docking and was pleased with its smoothness. At least they knew what they were doing with the old fire-burners.
The satellite itself was well-built, had, surprisingly, artificial gravity. This was inconsistent. If they could produce a gravity, why couldn’t they find a more efficient means of lifting from a planet?
'Come, please,' Miaree said, leading the way from the rocket.
Curious bystanders, mostly males, watched them as she led the way
past shops and quarters buildings to the flyer docks. There, on the satellite of The World, the flyer facilities were few, largely emergency repair facilities. There was no regular traffic to The World-gate, but if a lady were in trouble she could come in for first aid to a reluctant converter. There was only one flyer at the dock. Rim Star.
'We could have gone by driver,' Miaree said, as she opened the entrance hatch and motioned Rei in. 'But drivers are slow and I abhor them.'
His interest soared. He noted that the second seat within the small ship seemed to be jury-rigged, set back at an angle behind the pilot’s seat. He took his place and Miaree sat in front of him. He looked past her shoulder. The instruments were unfamiliar to him. The ship was too small for atomics. He guessed that the dials measured some electromagnetic force. He watched and listened with great interest as she moved her hands, activating machinery within the hull, sending a crawl of some force over his skin to leave chill bumps there. She spoke into an instrument with her musical, birdlike voice, was answered. The check-out was businesslike.
The girl knew what she was about. And then, with clankings and jerkings, they were lifted, pushed, expelled. The full force of the sun came into the front viewer and he yelled in pain, his eyes unprotected. With impressive speed, she closed the viewer, hooding it to expel rays which were harmful to his eyes.
'Sorry.' she said.
'You can take that stuff?' he asked. He’d closed his eyes before damage was done, but there were sun-ghosts dancing there.
He’d missed the unfolding of the wings. They billowed out in an impressive array, thin, almost invisible through the darkened viewer. Looking back, the satellite was already lost in the distance. This thing, he thought, really moves.
She was busy for a few moments, then, with a nod of her graceful head, she turned to him, loosing her belts. 'It will not be a long flight,' she said. 'But perhaps we can use the time to some advantage.' Her lips were held in, her eyes darkening in her intensity of manner. 'You asked if there had been a decision. I said there had not been. That was only partially true. Whatever decision is made will, in the main, be dependent on what I can learn from you.'
'We come in peace,' he said.
'But you come.'
'The fleet carries only a few,' he said.
'May I ask how many is a few?'
'Ten thousand,' he said, waiting for her reaction. 'They are mainly technicians, but they have brought their families. It was felt that if, working together, we'—he used her term for it—'Delanians and you Artonuee could not find some solution to our problem, then our race could at least survive here among you.'
Her yellow hair framed her eyes, which had gone deep purple.
'And in a hundred years,' she asked, 'how many will your ten thousand be then?' She turned, checked instruments. Flying down the solar wind, the Rim Star had reached maximum speed.
'Surely you can share a world with us,' he said. 'In the name of common humanity.'
'And if we say no?'
'I can only hope that you won’t,' he said.
'But?' She was looking at him, her eyes dark.
'We must survive,' he said.
And Miaree shuddered inwardly. His race knew the power source of a sun. The application of such force for
