Youth - 3

repairs."
The Industrialist found it impossible to organize himself to the point
of directed thought. He turned to the Astronomer. "And with that weapon
in their possession they let themselves be handled and caged? I don't
understand it."
But the calm thought came, "We would not harm the young of an
intelligent species."

XII
It was twilight. The Industrialist had entirely missed the evening meal
and remained unaware of the fact.
He said, "Do you really think the ship will fly?"
"If they say so," said the Astronomer, "I'm sure it will. They'll be
back, I hope, before too long."
"And when they do," said the Industrialist, energetically, "I will keep
my part of the agreement. What is more I will move sky and earth to have
the world accept them. I was entirely wrong, Doctor. Creatures that
would refuse to harm children, under such provocation as they received,
are admirable. But you know--I almost hate to say this--"
"Say what?"
"The kids. Yours and mine. I'm almost proud of them. Imagine seizing
these creatures, feeding them or trying to, and keeping them hidden. The
amazing gall of it. Red told me it was his idea to get a job in a circus
on the strength of them. Imagine!"
The Astronomer said, "Youth!"

XIII
The Merchant said, "Will we be taking off soon?"
"Half an hour," said the Explorer.
It was going to be a lonely trip back. All the remaining seventeen of
the crew were dead and their ashes were to be left on a strange planet.
Back they would go with a limping ship and the burden of the controls
entirely on himself.
The Merchant said, "It was a good business stroke, not harming the young
ones. We will get very good terms; _very_ good terms."
The Explorer thought: Business!
The Merchant then said, "They've lined up to see us off. All of them.
You don't think they're too close, do you? It would be bad to burn any
of them with the rocket blast at this stage of the game."
"They're safe."
"Horrible-looking things, aren't they?"
"Pleasant enough, inside. Their thoughts are perfectly friendly."
"You wouldn't believe it of them. That immature one, the one that first
picked us up--"
"They call him Red," provided the Explorer.
"That's a queer name for a monster. Makes me laugh. He actually feels
_bad_ that we're leaving. Only I can't make out exactly why. The nearest
I can come to it is something about a lost opportunity with some
organization or other that I can't quite interpret."
"A circus," said the Explorer, briefly.
"What? Why, the impertinent monstrosity."
"Why not? What would you have done if you had found _him_ wandering on
_your_ native world; found him sleeping on a field on Earth, red
tentacles, six legs, pseudopods and all?"

XIV
Red watched the ship leave. His red tentacles, which gave him his
nickname, quivered their regret at lost opportunity to the very last,
and the eyes at their tips filled with drifting yellowish crystals that
were the equivalent of Earthly tears.


Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from _Space Science Fiction_ May 1952.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and
typographical errors have been corrected without note.