and monitoring equipment, lighting, and the translator by-pass.
“Have I forgotten anything?”
She shook her head.
“Don’t worry about me,” he said awkwardly. “Everything will be just fine.”
But still she did not speak. Martin reached toward her and carefully removed her glasses, folded them, and placed them on top of the control console.
“I’m ready to go,” he said, then added gently, “sometime tomorrow…”
Martin made no secret of his landing. He arrived at night with all the lander’s external lights ablaze, and came in slowly so as not to be mistaken for one of the larger meteors. Then he waited anxiously for the reaction of the inhabitants and authorities of the nearby city.
With diminished anxiety and growing impatience, he was still waiting more than a full Teldin day later.
“I expected crowds around me by now,” Martin said in bewilderment. “But they just look at me as they pass on by. I have to make one of them stop ignoring me and talk. I’m leaving the lander now and beginning to move toward the road.”
“I see you,” Beth said from the hyper ship, then added warningly, “the chances of you being hit during the few minutes it takes you to reach the protection of the road are small, but even the computer cannot predict the impact point of every meteorite.”
Especially the rogues which were the result of collisions in low orbit, Martin thought, and which dropped in at a steep angle instead of slanting in from the west at the normal angle of thirty degrees or less. But the odd behavior of the satellite debris which fell around and onto Teldi, and which so offended Beth’s orderly mind, faded from his mind at the thought of meeting his first Teldin.
It would be a member of a species which had advanced perhaps only to the verge of achieving space-flight, and which still practiced astronomy in their dark, polar settlement. Such a species would have considered the possibility of off-planet intelligent life. Perhaps the idea might now exist only in the Teldin history books, but an ordinary Teldin should be aware of it and not be panicked into hostile activity by the sight of a puny and obviously defenseless off-worlder like Martin.
It was a nice, comforting theory which had made a lot of sense when they had discussed it back on the ship. Now he was not so sure.
“Can you see anyone on the road?”
“Yes,” Beth said. “Just over a mile to the north of you, heading your way and toward the city. One person riding a tricycle and towing a two-wheeled trailer. It should be visible to you in six minutes.”
While he was waiting, Martin tried to calm himself by examining at close range a stretch of the banked rock wall which ran along the side of the road. Like the majority of the roads on Teldi, this one ran roughly north and south, and the wall protected travelers from the meteorites which came slanting in from the west.
The banked walls were on average four meters high and built from rocks gathered in the vicinity. The roads were rarely straight, but curved frequently to take advantage of the protection furnished by natural features such as deep gullies or outcroppings of rock. When east-west travel was necessary, the roads proceeded in a series of wide zig-zags, like the track of a sailing ship tacking to windward.
Suddenly there was the sound of a short, sharp hiss and thud, and midway between his lander and the roadside there was a small, glowing patch of ground with a cloud of rock dust settling around it. A meteorite strike. When he looked back to the roadway, the Teldin was already in sight, peddling rapidly toward him and hugging the protective wall.
Martin walked to the outer edge of the roadway to get out of its path. He did not know anything about the oncoming vehicle’s braking system, and it was possible that he was in greater danger of being run over by a Teldin tricycle than being hit by a meteorite. His action could also, he hoped, be construed as one of politeness. When the vehicle slowed and came to a halt abreast of him, Martin extended both hands palms outward, then let them fall to his side again.
“I wish you well,” he said softly. Loudly and clearly and taking a fraction of a second longer, his translator expressed the same sentiment in Teldin.
The cyclist looked like a cross between an overgrown, four-armed kangaroo and a frog which was covered with sparse, sickly yellow fur. Because of the being’s size and his own lack of defensive armament, Martin was acutely aware of the other’s long, well-muscled legs which terminated in huge, clawed feet, and of the enormous teeth which showed clearly within the wide, open mouth. Its four, six-fingered hands also had bony terminations which had been filed short and painted bright blue, presumably to aid the manipulation of small objects and for decoration. It was wearing a dark brown cloak of some coarse, fibrous material, and the garment was fastened at the neck and thrown back over the shoulders where it was attached in some fashion to the being’s backpack, probably to leave the other’s limbs free for peddling and steering its vehicle. There was no doubt that this was a civilized entity, and that the open mouth with its fearsome display of teeth was simply a gape of surprise and curiosity, not a snarl of fury presaging an attack.
Perhaps there was a little bit of doubt, Martin thought nervously, and spoke again.
“If you are not engaged in urgent and important business,” he said slowly while the translator rattled out the guttural gruntings and gobblings which were the Teldin equivalent, “I would be grateful if you could spare some of your time talking to me.”
The Teldin made a harsh, barking sound which did not translate, followed by other noises which did. They sounded in Martin’s earpiece as “The conversation is likely to be a short one, stranger, if you do not move over here to the protection of the wall. Naturally I would be delighted to talk to you about yourself, the mechanism yonder in which you arrived, and any other subject which mutually interests us. But first there is a question…”
The being paused for a moment. There was no way that Martin could read its facial expression on such short acquaintance, but from a certain tension and awkwardness in the way the Teldin was holding its limbs and body, he had a strong impression that the question was an important one. Finally it came.
“Who owns you, stranger?”
Chapter 6
BE careful, Martin thought. The alien’s understanding of the word “own” might be different from his. Could the question involve patriotism, or loyalty owed to its country, tribe, or employer? Was the Teldin using some kind of local slang which the translator was reproducing literally? He dare not answer until he was completely sure of the meaning of the question.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Your question is unclear to me.”
Before the Teldin could reply, Martin introduced himself and began describing his planet of origin. He spoke of the Earth as it had been before the coming of the Federation, not the denuded and well-nigh depopulated planet that it had since become. Then he quickly went on to talk about the lander and the much larger hypership in orbit above them and, when the Teldin expressed sudden concern, he assured it that neither had anything to fear from the meteorites. He added that he, himself, did not carry such protection nor, for that matter, any other means of defense or offense.
When he finished speaking the Teldin was silent for a moment. Then it said, “Thank you for this information which, in spite of being hearsay, could be of great importance. Does the being in the orbiting vessel own you?”
In the earpiece he could hear Beth, who was monitoring the conversation, suppressing laughter.
“No,” he said.
“Do you own it?”
“No,” he said again.
“You only act that way sometimes,” Beth said. “But be alert. Another pedal vehicle is heading out of the city toward you. It is painted brown and bright yellow, towing an enclosed trailer and flying some kind of pennant, with two people on board pedaling fast. It should reach you in about twenty minutes.”
Martin bypassed the translator momentarily to say, “The local constabulary, do you think? I can’t react until they come into sight, when it would be natural for me to ask who and what they are. But our friend here worries me with its constant harping on ownership. And what does it mean by hearsay? I can’t give it a straight answer until I
