philosophers and logicians of my home world! I have brought it to you in complete confidence that, without haste and after examining every aspect of the situation, you will penetrate its intricacies and find the one true solution! When this is done I shall return to my home world bearing the triumphant result of your cerebration and a new field of intellectual research will be opened for the minds of all future generations!”
He made a gesture of finality. There was really loud cheering now. Link was a stranger. He had flattered the uffts and those near him were charmed by his tribute, and those farther away cheered because those near him had cheered, and those still farther away—
“Let’s get going,” said Link briefly.
The cavalcade took up its march again. But now there were groups of uffts running alongside Link’s unicorn, cheering him from time to time and in between beginning to argue vociferously among themselves that the barber did or didn’t shave himself because if he didn’t, or if he did, why? And if he wore whiskers he would not shave himself and therefore would have to shave himself and therefore couldn’t have whiskers.
The angular, ungainly unicorns moved in their slab-sided fashion across the remaining dirt piles and burrows of the ufft city. Behind them, a buzz of argument began and rose to the sky. Uffts by thousands zestfully discussed the problem of the barber. He shaved everybody who didn’t shave himself. He didn’t shave anybody who did shave himself. Therefore—
Harl rode in something like a brown study for a long way after the ufft metropolis was left behind. Then he said heavily:
“Uh… Link, did you sure enough come here to ask the uffts that there question?”
“No,” admitted Link. “But it seemed like a good idea to ask it.”
Harl considered for a long time. Then he said:
“What did you come here for, Link?”
Link considered in his turn. Viewing the matter dispassionately, he didn’t seem to have had any clear cut reason. One thing had led to another, and here he was. But a serious minded character like Harl might find the truth difficult to understand. So Link said with a fine air of regret:
“I’ll tell you, Harl. There was a girl named Imogene—”
“Uh-uh,” said Harl regretfully. “I’m gettin’ kind of troubled about you, Link. You’re guestin’ with me, an’ all that, but that whiskery fella that cussed so bad an’ insulted me, he came on the spaceship with you. And that speech you made to those uffts—I don’t understand it, Link. I just don’t understand it! You seem like a right nice fella to me, but I’m a Householder and I got responsibilities. And I’m gettin’ to think that with times like they are, and the uffts cheering you like they did, an’ all my other troubles—”
“What?” asked Link.
“I hate to say it, Link,” said Harl apologetically, “an’ it may not seem mannerly of me, but honest I think I’d better get you hung along with that whiskery fella that wanted to send a message to Old Man Addison. I won’t like doin’ it, Link, and I hope you won’t take it unkindly, but it does look like I better hang you both to avoid trouble.”
Harl’s followers rearranged themselves, closing Link in so there was no possibility of his escape.
Chapter 4
They reached the village which Harl pointed to with the comment that it was his Household. They rode into it, and there were a good many women and girls in sight. They were elaborately clothed in garments at once incredibly brilliant and sometimes patched. But only a few men were visible. There were no dogs, such as properly belong in a small human settlement, but there were uffts in the streets sauntering about entirely at their ease. Once the cavalcade passed two of them, squatted on their haunches in the position of quadrupeds sitting down, apparently deep in satisfying conversation. It overtook a small cart loaded with a remarkable mixture of leaves, weeds, roots, grass, and all manner of similar debris. It looked like the trash from a gardening job, headed either for a compost heap or for a place where it would be burned to be gotten rid of. But there were four uffts pulling it by leather thongs they held in their teeth. It had somehow the look of a personal enterprise of the uffts, personally carried out.
A little way on there was a similar cart backed up to a wide door in the largest building of the village. That cart was empty, but a man in strikingly colored, but patched, clothing was putting plastic bottles into it. The contents looked like beer. An ufft supervised the placing, counting aloud in a sardonic voice as if ostentatiously guarding against being cheated. Three other uffts waited for the tally to be complete.
The cavalcade drew rein at a grand entrance to this largest building. Harl dismounted and said heavily:
“Here’s where I live. I don’t see anything else to do but hang you, Link, but there’s no need to lock you up. Come along with me. My fellas will be watchin’ all the doors an’ windows. You can’t get away, though I mighty near wish you could.”
The four other riders dismounted. There’d been no obvious sign of Link’s change of status, from warmly approved guest to somebody it seemed regrettably necessary to hang, but after Harl’s decision his followers had matter-of-factly taken measures to prevent his escape. There was no hope of a successful dash now, nor was there any place to dash to.
Link climbed down to the ground. During all his life, up to now, he’d craved the novel and the unexpected. But it hadn’t happened that the prospect of being hanged had ever been a part of his life. In a way, without realizing it, he’d taken the state of not being hanged for granted. He’d never felt that he needed to work out solid reasons against his hanging as a project. But Harl appeared to be wholly in earnest. His air of regret about the necessity seemed sincere, and Link rather startledly believed that he needed some good arguments. He needed them both good and quick.
“Come inside,” said Harl gloomily. “I never had anything bother me so much, Link! I don’t even know what it’s mannerly to do about your ship. You ain’t given it to me, and you welcomed me in it, so it would be disgraceful to take it. But it’s the most iron I ever did see! And things are pretty bad for iron, like most other things. I got to think things out.”
Link followed him through huge, wide doors. It looked like a ceremonial entranceway. Inside there was a splendid hall hung with draperies that at some time had been impressive. They were a mass of embroidery from top to bottom and the original effect must have been one of genuine splendor. But they were ancient, now, and they showed it. At the end of the hall there was a grandiose, stately, canopied chair upon a raised dais. It looked like a chair of state. The entire effect was one of badly faded grandeur. The present effect was badly marred by electric panels which obviously didn’t light, and by three uffts sprawled out and sleeping comfortably on the floor.
“Most of my fellas are away,” said Harl worriedly. “An ufft came in yesterday with some bog-iron and said he’d found the biggest deposit of it that ever was found. But y’can’t trust uffts! He wanted a thousand bottles of beer for showin’ us where it was, and five bottles for every load we took away. So I got most of my fellas out huntin’ for it themselves. The ufft’d think it was a smart trick to get a thousand bottles of beer out of me for nothing, and then laugh!”
One of the seemingly dozing uffts yawned elaborately. It was not exactly derisive, but it was not respectful, either.
Harl scowled. He led the way past the ceremonial chair and out a small sized door just beyond. Here, abruptly, there was open air again. And here, in a space some fifty by fifty feet, there was an absolutely startling garden. It struck Link forcibly because it made him realize that at no time on the journey from the landed
