Youth - 2

"It _sounded_ like it was out by the hill." That was truthful, and
useful as well, since the direction was almost opposite that in which
the barn lay.
The Industrialist looked at his guest. "I suppose it would do no harm to
walk toward the hill."
The Astronomer said, "I am ready."
Red watched them walk away and when he turned he saw Slim peering
cautiously out from among the briars of a hedge.
Red waved at him. "Come on."
Slim stepped out and approached. "Did they say anything about the meat?"
"No. I guess they don't know about that. They went down to the hill."
"What for?"
"Search me. They kept asking about the noise I heard. Listen, did the
animals eat the meat?"
"Well," said Slim, cautiously, "they were sort of _looking_ at it and
smelling it or something."
"Okay," Red said, "I guess they'll eat it. Holy Smokes, they've got to
eat _something_. Let's walk along toward the hill and see what Dad and
your father are going to do."
"What about the animals?"
"They'll be all right. A fellow can't spend all his time on them. Did
you give them water?"
"Sure. They drank that."
"See. Come on. We'll look at them after lunch. I tell you what. We'll
bring them fruit. Anything'll eat fruit."
Together they trotted up the rise, Red, as usual, in the lead.

V
The Astronomer said, "You think the noise was their ship landing?"
"Don't you think it could be?"
"If it were, they may all be dead."
"Perhaps not." The Industrialist frowned.
"If they have landed, and are still alive, where are they?"
"Think about that for a while." He was still frowning.
The Astronomer said, "I don't understand you."
"They may not be friendly."
"Oh, no. I've spoken with them. They've--"
"You've spoken with them. Call that reconnaissance. What would their
next step be? Invasion?"
"But they only have one ship, sir."
"You know that only because they say so. They might have a fleet."
"I've told you about their size. They--"
"Their size would not matter, if they have handweapons that may well be
superior to our artillery."
"That is not what I meant."
"I had this partly in mind from the first." The Industrialist went on.
"It is for that reason I agreed to see them after I received your
letter. Not to agree to an unsettling and impossible trade, but to judge
their real purposes. I did not count on their evading the meeting."
He sighed. "I suppose it isn't our fault. You are right in one thing, at
any rate. The world has been at peace too long. We are losing a healthy
sense of suspicion."
The Astronomer's mild voice rose to an unusual pitch and he said, "I
_will_ speak. I tell you that there is no reason to suppose they can
possibly be hostile. They are small, yes, but that is only important
because it is a reflection of the fact that their native worlds are
small. Our world has what is for them a normal gravity, but because of
our much higher gravitational potential, our atmosphere is too dense to
support them comfortably over sustained periods. For a similar reason
the use of the world as a base for interstellar travel, except for trade
in certain items, is uneconomical. And there are important differences
in chemistry of life due to the basic differences in soils. They
couldn't eat our food or we theirs."
"Surely all this can be overcome. They can bring their own food, build
domed stations of lowered air pressure, devise specially designed
ships."
"They can. And how glibly you can describe feats that are easy to a race
in its youth. It is simply that they don't have to do any of that. There
are millions of worlds suitable for them in the Galaxy. They don't need
this one which isn't."
"How do you know? All this is their information again."
"This I was able to check independently. I am an astronomer, after all."
"That is true. Let me hear what you have to say then, while we walk."
"Then, sir, consider that for a long time our astronomers have believed
that two general classes of planetary bodies existed. First, the planets
which formed at distances far enough from their stellar nucleus to
become cool enough to capture hydrogen. These would be large planets
rich in hydrogen, ammonia and methane. We have examples of these in the
giant outer planets. The second class would include those planets formed
so near the stellar center that the high temperature would make it
impossible to capture much hydrogen. These would be smaller planets,
comparatively poorer in hydrogen and richer in oxygen. We know that type
very well since we live on one. Ours is the only solar system we know in
detail, however, and it has been reasonable for us to assume that these
were the _only_ two planetary classes."
"I take it then that there is another."
"Yes. There is a super-dense class, still smaller, poorer in hydrogen,
than the inner planets of the solar system. The ratio of occurrence of
hydrogen-ammonia planets and these super-dense water-oxygen worlds of
theirs over the entire Galaxy--and remember that they have actually
conducted a survey of significant sample volumes of the Galaxy which we,
without interstellar travel, cannot do--is about 3 to 1. This leaves
them seven million super-dense worlds for exploration and colonization."
The Industrialist looked at the blue sky and the green-covered trees
among which they were making their way. He said, "And worlds like ours?"
The Astronomer said, softly, "Ours is the first solar system they have
found which contains them. Apparently the development of our solar
system was unique and did not follow the ordinary rules."
The Industrialist considered that. "What it amounts to is that these
creatures from space are asteroid-dwellers."
"No, no. The asteroids are something else again. They occur, I was told,
in one out of eight stellar systems, but they're completely different
from what we've been discussing."
"And how does your being an astronomer change the fact that you are
still only quoting their unsupported statements?"
"But they did not restrict themselves to bald items of information. They
presented me with a theory of stellar evolution which I had to accept
and which is more nearly valid than anything our own astronomy has ever
been able to devise, if we except possible lost theories dating from
Beforethewars. Mind you, their theory had a rigidly mathematical
development and it predicted just such a Galaxy as they describe. So you
see, they have all the worlds they wish. They are not land-hungry.
Certainly not for our land."
"Reason would say so, if what you say is true. But creatures may be
intelligent and not reasonable. Our forefathers were presumably
intelligent, yet they were certainly not reasonable. Was it reasonable
to destroy almost all their tremendous civilization in atomic warfare
over causes our historians can no longer accurately determine?" The
Industrialist brooded over it. "From the dropping of the first atom bomb
over those islands--I forget the ancient name--there was only one end in
sight, and in plain sight. Yet events were allowed to proceed to that
end."
He looked up, said briskly, "Well, where are we? I wonder if we are not
on a fool's errand after all."
But the Astronomer was a little in advance and his voice came thickly.
"No fool's errand, sir. Look there."

VI
Red and Slim had trailed their elders with the experience of youth,
aided by the absorption and anxiety of their fathers. Their view of the
final object of the search was somewhat obscured by the underbrush
behind which they remained.
Red said, "Holy Smokes. Look at that. It's all shiny silver or
something."
But it was Slim who was really excited. He caught at the other. "I know
what this is. It's a space-ship. That must be why my father came here.
He's one of the biggest astronomers in the world and your father would
have to call him if a space-ship landed on his estate."
"What are you talking about? Dad didn't even know that thing was there.
He only came here because I told him I heard the thunder from here.
Besides, there isn't any such thing as a space-ship."
"Sure, there is. Look at it. See those round things. They are ports. And
you can see the rocket tubes."
"How do you know so much?"
Slim was flushed. He said, "I read about them. My father has books about
them. Old books. From Beforethewars."
"Huh. Now I know you're making it up. Books from Beforethewars!"
"My father _has_ to have them. He teaches at the University. It's his
job."
His voice had risen and Red had to pull at him. "You want them to hear
us?" he whispered indignantly.
"Well, it is, too, a space-ship."
"Look here, Slim, you mean that's a ship from another world."
"It's _got_ to be. Look at my father going round and round it. He
wouldn't be so interested if it was anything else."
"Other worlds! Where are there other worlds?"
"Everywhere. How about the planets? They're worlds just like ours, some
of them. And other stars probably have planets. There's probably
zillions of planets."
Red felt outweighed and outnumbered. He muttered, "You're crazy!"
"All right, then. I'll show you."
"Hey! Where are you going?"
"Down there. I'm going to ask my father. I suppose you'll believe it if
_he_ tells you. I suppose you'll believe a Professor of Astronomy knows
what--"
He had scrambled upright.
Red said, "Hey. You don't want them to see us. We're not supposed to be
here. Do you want them to start asking questions and find out about our
animals?"
"I don't care. You said I was crazy."
"Snitcher! You promised you wouldn't tell."
"I'm _not_ going to tell. But if they find out themselves, it's your
fault, for starting an argument and saying I was crazy."
"I take it back, then," grumbled Red.
"Well, all right. You better."
In a way, Slim was disappointed. He wanted to see the space-ship at
closer quarters. Still, he could not break his vow of secrecy even in
spirit without at least the excuse of personal insult.
Red said, "It's awfully small for a space-ship."
"Sure, because it's probably a scout-ship."
"I'll bet Dad couldn't even get into the old thing."
So much Slim realized to be true. It was a weak point in his argument
and he made no answer. His interest was absorbed by the adults.
Red rose to his feet; an elaborate attitude of boredom all about him.
"Well, I guess we better be going. There's business to do and I can't
spend all day here looking at some old space-ship or whatever it is.
We've got to take care of the animals if we're going to be circus-folks.
That's the first rule with circus-folks. They've got to take care of the
animals. And," he finished virtuously, "that's what I aim to do,
anyway."
Slim said, "What for, Red? They've got plenty of meat. Let's watch."
"There's no fun in watching. Besides Dad and your father are going away
and I guess it's about lunch time."
Red became argumentative. "Look, Slim, we can't start acting suspicious
or they're going to start investigating. Holy Smokes, don't you ever
read any detective stories? When you're trying to work a big deal
without being caught, it's practically the main thing to keep on acting
just like always. Then they don't suspect anything. That's the first
law--"
"Oh, all right."
Slim rose resentfully. At the moment, the circus appeared to him a
rather tawdry and shoddy substitute for the glories of astronomy, and he
wondered how he had come to fall in with Red's silly scheme.
Down the slope they went, Slim, as usual, in the rear.

VII
The Industrialist said, "It's the workmanship that gets me. I never saw
such construction."
"What good is it now?" said the Astronomer, bitterly. "There's nothing
left. There'll be no second landing. This ship detected life on our
planet through accident. Other exploring parties would come no closer
than necessary to establish the fact that there were no super-dense
worlds existing in our solar system."
"Well, there's no quarreling with a crash landing."
"The ship hardly seems damaged. If only some had survived, the ship
might have been repaired."
"If they had survived, there would be no trade in any case. They're too
different. Too disturbing. In any case--it's over."
They entered the house and the Industrialist greeted his wife calmly.
"Lunch about ready, dear."
"I'm afraid not. You see--" She looked hesitantly at the Astronomer.
"Is anything wrong?" asked the Industrialist. "Why not tell me? I'm sure
our guest won't mind a little family discussion."
"Pray don't pay any attention whatever to me," muttered the Astronomer.
He moved miserably to the other end of the living room.
The woman said, in low, hurried tones, "Really, dear, cook's that upset.
I've been soothing her for hours and honestly, I don't know why Red
should have done it."
"Done what?" The Industrialist was more amused than otherwise. It had
taken the united efforts of himself and his son months to argue his wife
into using the name "Red" rather than the perfectly ridiculous (viewed
youngster fashion) name which was his real one.
She said, "He's taken most of the chopped meat."
"He's eaten it?"
"Well, I hope not. It was raw."
"Then what would he want it for?"
"I haven't the slightest idea. I haven't seen him since breakfast.
Meanwhile cook's just furious. She caught him vanishing out the kitchen
door and there was the bowl of chopped meat just about empty and she was
going to use it for lunch. Well, you know cook. She had to change the
lunch menu and that means she won't be worth living with for a week.
You'll just have to speak to Red, dear, and make him promise not to do
things in the kitchen any more. And it wouldn't hurt to have him
apologize to cook."
"Oh, come. She works for us. If we don't complain about a change in
lunch menu, why should she?"
"Because she's the one who has double-work made for her, and she's
talking about quitting. Good cooks aren't easy to get. Do you remember
the one before her?"
It was a strong argument.
The Industrialist looked about vaguely. He said, "I suppose you're
right. He isn't here, I suppose. When he comes in, I'll talk to him."
"You'd better start. Here he comes."
Red walked into the house and said cheerfully, "Time for lunch, I
guess." He looked from one parent to the other in quick speculation at
their fixed stares and said, "Got to clean up first, though," and made
for the other door.
The Industrialist said, "One moment, son."
"Sir?"
"Where's your little friend?"
Red said, carelessly, "He's around somewhere. We were just sort of
walking and I looked around and he wasn't there." This was perfectly
true, and Red felt on safe ground. "I told him it was lunch time. I
said, 'I suppose it's about lunch time.' I said, 'We got to be getting
back to the house.' And he said, 'Yes.' And I just went on and then when
I was about at the creek I looked around and--"
The Astronomer interrupted the voluble story, looking up from a
magazine he had been sightlessly rummaging through. "I wouldn't worry
about my youngster. He is quite self-reliant. Don't wait lunch for him."
"Lunch isn't ready in any case, Doctor." The Industrialist turned once
more to his son. "And talking about that, son, the reason for it is that
something happened to the ingredients. Do you have anything to say?"
"Sir?"
"I hate to feel that I have to explain myself more fully. Why did you
take the chopped meat?"
"The chopped meat?"
"The chopped meat." He waited patiently.
Red said, "Well, I was sort of--"
"Hungry?" prompted his father. "For raw meat?"
"No, sir. I just sort of needed it."
"For what exactly?"
Red looked miserable and remained silent.
The Astronomer broke in again. "If you don't mind my putting in a few
words--You'll remember that just after breakfast my son came in to ask
what animals ate."
"Oh, you're right. How stupid of me to forget. Look here, Red, did you
take it for an animal pet you've got?"
Red recovered indignant breath. He said, "You mean Slim came in here and
said I had an animal? He came in here and said that? He said I had an
animal?"
"No, he didn't. He simply asked what animals ate. That's all. Now if he
promised he wouldn't tell on you, he didn't. It's your own foolishness
in trying to take something without permission that gave you away. That
happened to be stealing. Now have you an animal? I ask you a direct
question."
"Yes, sir." It was a whisper so low as hardly to be heard.
"All right, you'll have to get rid of it. Do you understand?"
Red's mother intervened. "Do you mean to say you're keeping a
meat-eating animal, Red? It might bite you and give you blood-poison."
"They're only small ones," quavered Red. "They hardly budge if you touch
them."
"They? How many do you have?"
"Two."
"Where are they?"
The Industrialist touched her arm. "Don't chivvy the child any further,"
he said, in a low voice. "If he says he'll get rid of them, he will,
and that's punishment enough."
He dismissed the matter from his mind.

VIII
Lunch was half over when Slim dashed into the dining room. For a moment,
he stood abashed, and then he said in what was almost hysteria, "I've
got to speak to Red. I've got to say something."
Red looked up in fright, but the Astronomer said, "I don't think, son,
you're being very polite. You've kept lunch waiting."
"I'm sorry, Father."
"Oh, don't rate the lad," said the Industrialist's wife. "He can speak
to Red if he wants to, and there was no damage done to the lunch."
"I've got to speak to Red alone," Slim insisted.
"Now that's enough," said the Astronomer with a kind of gentleness that
was obviously manufactured for the benefit of strangers and which had
beneath it an easily-recognized edge. "Take your seat."
Slim did so, but he ate only when someone looked directly upon him. Even
then he was not very successful.
Red caught his eyes. He made soundless words, "Did the animals get
loose?"
Slim shook his head slightly. He whispered, "No, it's--"
The Astronomer looked at him hard and Slim faltered to a stop.
With lunch over, Red slipped out of the room, with a microscopic motion
at Slim to follow.
They walked in silence to the creek.
Then Red turned fiercely upon his companion. "Look here, what's the idea
of telling my Dad we were feeding animals?"
Slim said, "I didn't. I asked what you feed animals. That's not the same
as saying we were doing it. Besides, it's something else, Red."
But Red had not used up his grievances. "And where did you go anyway? I
thought you were coming to the house. They acted like it was my fault
you weren't there."
"But I'm trying to tell you about that, if you'd only shut _up_ a second
and let me talk. You don't give a fellow a chance."
"Well, go on and tell me if you've got so much to say."
"I'm _trying_ to. I went back to the space-ship. The folks weren't there
anymore and I wanted to see what it was like."
"It isn't a space-ship," said Red, sullenly. He had nothing to lose.
"It is, too. I looked inside. You could look through the ports and I
looked inside and they were _dead_." He looked sick. "They were dead."
"_Who_ were dead."
Slim screeched, "Animals! like _our_ animals! Only they _aren't_
animals. They're people-things from other planets."
For a moment Red might have been turned to stone. It didn't occur to him
to disbelieve Slim at this point. Slim looked too genuinely the bearer
of just such tidings. He said, finally, "Oh, my."
"Well, what are we going to do? Golly, will we get a whopping if they
find out?" He was shivering.
"We better turn them loose," said Red.
"They'll tell on us."
"They can't talk our language. Not if they're from another planet."
"Yes, they can. Because I remember my father talking about some stuff
like that to my mother when he didn't know I was in the room. He was
talking about visitors who could talk with the mind. Telepathery or
something. I thought he was making it up."
"Well, Holy Smokes. I mean--Holy Smokes." Red looked up. "I tell you. My
Dad said to get rid of them. Let's sort of bury them somewhere or throw
them in the creek."
"He _told_ you to do that."
"He made me say I had animals and then he said, 'Get rid of them.' I got
to do what he says. Holy Smokes, he's my Dad."
Some of the panic left Slim's heart. It was a thoroughly legalistic way
out. "Well, let's do it right now, then, before they find out. Oh,
golly, if they find out, will we be in trouble!"
They broke into a run toward the barn, unspeakable visions in their
minds.

IX
It was different, looking at them as though they were "people." As
animals, they had been interesting; as "people," horrible. Their eyes,
which were neutral little objects before, now seemed to watch them with
active malevolence.
"They're making noises," said Slim, in a whisper which was barely
audible.
"I guess they're talking or something," said Red. Funny that those
noises which they had heard before had not had significance earlier. He
was making no move toward them. Neither was Slim.
The canvas was off but they were just watching. The ground meat, Slim
noticed, hadn't been touched.
Slim said, "Aren't you going to do something?"
"Aren't you?"
"You found them."
"It's your turn, now."
"No, it isn't. You found them. It's your fault, the whole thing. I was
watching."
"You joined in, Slim. You know you did."
"I don't care. You found them and that's what I'll say when they come
here looking for us."
Red said, "All right for you." But the thought of the consequences
inspired him anyway, and he reached for the cage door.
Slim said, "Wait!"
Red was glad to. He said, "Now what's biting you?"
"One of them's got something on him that looks like it might be iron or
something."
"Where?"
"Right there. I saw it before but I thought it was just part of him. But
if he's 'people,' maybe it's a disintegrator gun."
"What's that?"
"I read about it in the books from Beforethewars. Mostly people with
space-ships have disintegrator guns. They point them at you and you get
disintegratored."
"They didn't point it at us till now," pointed out Red with his heart
not quite in it.
"I don't care. I'm not hanging around here and getting disintegratored.
I'm getting my father."
"Cowardy-cat. Yellow cowardy-cat."
"I don't care. You can call all the names you want, but if you bother
them now you'll get disintegratored. You wait and see, and it'll be all
your fault."
He made for the narrow spiral stairs that led to the main floor of the
barn, stopped at its head, then backed away.
Red's mother was moving up, panting a little with the exertion and
smiling a tight smile for the benefit of Slim in his capacity as guest.
"Red! You, Red! Are you up there? Now don't try to hide. I know this is
where you're keeping them. Cook saw where you ran with the meat."
Red quavered, "Hello, ma!"
"Now show me those nasty animals? I'm going to see to it that you get
rid of them right away."
It was over! And despite the imminent corporal punishment, Red felt
something like a load fall from him. At least the decision was out of
his hands.
"Right there, ma. I didn't do anything to them, ma. I didn't know. They
just looked like little animals and I thought you'd let me keep them,
ma. I wouldn't have taken the meat only they wouldn't eat grass or
leaves and we couldn't find good nuts or berries and cook never lets me
have anything or I would have asked her and I didn't know it was for
lunch and--"
He was speaking on the sheer momentum of terror and did not realize that
his mother did not hear him but, with eyes frozen and popping at the
cage, was screaming in thin, piercing tones.

X
The Astronomer was saying, "A quiet burial is all we can do. There is no
point in any publicity now," when they heard the screams.
She had not entirely recovered by the time she reached them, running and
running. It was minutes before her husband could extract sense from her.
She was saying, finally, "I tell you they're in the barn. I don't know
what they are. No, no--"
She barred the Industrialist's quick movement in that direction. She
said, "Don't _you_ go. Send one of the hands with a shotgun. I tell you
I never saw anything like it. Little horrible beasts with--with--I can't
describe it. To think that Red was touching them and trying to feed
them. He was _holding_ them, and feeding them meat."
Red began, "I only--"
And Slim said, "It was not--"
The Industrialist said, quickly, "Now you boys have done enough harm
today. March! Into the house! And not a word; not one word! I'm not
interested in anything you have to say. After this is all over, I'll
hear you out and as for you, Red, I'll see that you're properly
punished."
He turned to his wife. "Now whatever the animals are, we'll have them
killed." He added quietly once the youngsters were out of hearing,
"Come, come. The children aren't hurt and, after all, they haven't done
anything really terrible. They've just found a new pet."
The Astronomer spoke with difficulty. "Pardon me, ma'am, but can you
describe these animals?"
She shook her head. She was quite beyond words.
"Can you just tell me if they--"
"I'm sorry," said the Industrialist, apologetically, "but I think I had
better take care of her. Will you excuse me?"
"A moment. Please. One moment. She said she had never seen such animals
before. Surely it is not usual to find animals that are completely
unique on an estate such as this."
"I'm sorry. Let's not discuss that now."
"Except that unique animals might have landed during the night."
The Industrialist stepped away from his wife. "What are you implying?"
"I think we had better go to the barn, sir!"
The Industrialist stared a moment, turned and suddenly and quite
uncharacteristically began running. The Astronomer followed and the
woman's wail rose unheeded behind them.

XI
The Industrialist stared, looked at the Astronomer, turned to stare
again.
"Those?"
"Those," said the Astronomer. "I have no doubt we appear strange and
repulsive to them."
"What do they say?"
"Why, that they are uncomfortable and tired and even a little sick, but
that they are not seriously damaged, and that the youngsters treated
them well."
"Treated them well! Scooping them up, keeping them in a cage, giving
them grass and raw meat to eat? Tell me how to speak to them."
"It may take a little time. Think _at_ them. Try to listen. It will come
to you, but perhaps not right away."
The Industrialist tried. He grimaced with the effort of it, thinking
over and over again, "The youngsters were ignorant of your identity."
And the thought was suddenly in his mind: "We were quite aware of it and
because we knew they meant well by us according to their own view of the
matter, we did not attempt to attack them."
"Attack them?" thought the Industrialist, and said it aloud in his
concentration.
"Why, yes," came the answering thought. "We are armed."
One of the revolting little creatures in the cage lifted a metal object
and there was a sudden hole in the top of the cage and another in the
roof of the barn, each hole rimmed with charred wood.
"We hope," the creatures thought, "it will not be too difficult to make