"I thought he wanted to negotiate?"
"The Gaol don't know the difference between demanding and negotiating. You should know that, Jack."
"Yeah, I know. Candy, when does the commander want the meeting to take place?"
"As soon as possible."
"Tell Garth to tell the commander she'll get the time of the meeting shortly. We have to confer about it first."
While the android was whistling at the cyborg, Jack swiftly considered the possible consequences of permitting the Gaol to come down in the spaceboat. Why this face-to-face confrontation? Why not just talk via Garth? It could not be because the commander wanted a close look at the situation. She could see them as clearly through her instruments as if she were hovering just above them.
Maybe she thought that her demands would be much more powerful if they were delivered personally. Issuing from a scary-looking creature with its ratcage-body, its brutal face, and its lack of brainpan, the demands would have an impact that could not be matched by messages relayed via Garth.
But then the Gaol probably did not think of themselves as frighteningly alien and horrible. On the other hand, they must have observed that their appearance did nauseate the bipedal species they had encountered. See a Gaol; feel like throwing up.
It was an anthropocentric reaction, but it was natural.
The Gaol would not wish to destroy the Imago's host except as a last resort. Did the Gaol believe that this situation demanded that Tappy be killed? He did not think so. It had not developed to the point where they would say, "Screw it!" and then kill her. Not yet, anyway, though it could lead to that.
It was not likely that the negotiator's boat was armed or equipped with an atom bomb. The Gaol would not have to depend upon that to kill Tappy if the commander decided that that was the only solution to their problem. Missiles launched from the orbiting ships could do that work much more effectively and with no warning at all.
He told Candy and Tappy what he had been thinking.
"The Gaol boat might be equipped with remote-controlled machinery," he said. "Controlled either by the negotiator or, more likely, from the spaceship by the commander. She might have ideas about abducting you, Tappy. I don't know how, but I'm thinking of something like paralyzing gas sprayed from it, then the boat opening up and scooping you into it and taking off. The negotiator would be sacrificed, but they wouldn't care."
They agreed, and so did the Integrator when they explained what they had been talking about. Jack told Candy to send a message through Garth.
"The boat must land at least half a mile from us," Jack said. "The negotiator will walk to us. Just after he leaves the boat, it will ascend. When it's at least a hundred miles above the surface, the negotiator can start walking toward us. Tell the commander that you have radar capabilities and can ascertain that the boat rises to the agreed- upon altitude. And you'll know immediately if it starts to go below that height."
Garth whistled. Candy said, "He says he doesn't have long-range radar."
"The commander probably doesn't know that. Even if she checks up on the specs for Garth's type of cyborg and they don't indicate he has radar, she can't be sure we haven't installed the equipment in him."
The airboat had returned. It was as packed with passengers as during the first haul. They spilled out, the number of males being the same as the number of females. Now that he thought of it, the first load had been an equal division of the sexes. That was strange because the warriors who had attacked the ship had been mostly male.
The women and men were covered with war paint, black, white, and red stripes. Interspersed among these were stars and triple crosses. The women bore crimson six-pointed stars, and the men bore blue five-pointed stars. The triple crosses were all purple edged with yellow. The foreheads of both sexes were marked with three concentric circles. The outer circle was white; the next circle, black; the inner circle, blue. Around the women's navels were three similarly colored concentric circles. The navels were painted a bright rosy red.
The men's penises were decorated with three red wavy lines radiating from the longitudinal axis. The same number of wavy lines, colored blue, spread out from each side of the women's vaginas and across the upper thighs.
The second boatload had brought brushes and paint pots with them. They proceeded at once, in the midst of much honking and gesticulating, to paint the first boatload.
What were they up to? Jack thought. They certainly were not going to attack the Gaol negotiator. Probably, they were getting ready for some sort of magical ceremony. Though they were far advanced in biological science and technology, they were otherwise primitives. They believed in magic. That, at least, was the impression he had gotten during his brief but intense experiences with them.
But he could be mistaken.
Garth whistled. When he was done, Candy said, "The commander agrees to your terms. Everything will be done as you wish. The boat will land in approximately an hour."
"Ask the commander if we can get a preview of the offers that'll be made by the negotiator," Jack said. "We can think them over while we're waiting for him."
In less than a minute, the commander's reply was relayed by Candy.
"She prefers that the negotiator deliver the terms in person."
"Okay," Jack said. "We can't force her."
He wondered what the Gaol were planning. It would be nothing good for anybody in this camp and especially not for Tappy.
During the hour allotted, five more boatloads of honkers came. The sixth was jammed with cooking utensils and food. Jack asked Tappy to ask the Integrator about the reason for bringing in all these people. Also, she should ask him why they were all painted. By then, the shaman had also been decorated.
Tappy, after a brief exchange with the shaman, said, "He'll only say that this is all for, uh..."
She cocked her head as she did so often when thinking hard. "Uh, the best translation would be, 'for the big showdown.' "
"Showdown?" Jack said.
"Yes. And that's all he'll say."
"How the hell could this be a showdown? And how would he know it is?"
"He won't say anything more about it. Don't press him. Jack. It's not the honker way. He'd be offended."
"He knows or thinks he knows much more man I do. More than you, too, right, Tappy?"
"Yes, I think so. I hope so."
Jack strode back and forth, fuming and muttering to himself. Sometimes, he believed that he was the leader, the captain, the man with the ultimate authority. The Integrator had let him make decisions and so deluded him into believing that he was the leader. But when the shaman wanted to do certain things, he just ignored Jack.
Tappy was looking even more distraught than when they had first come to this place. In fact, she seemed to be coiling in on herself. She needed consolation, moral support, assurance, and love. He started toward her to give her what she needed. Garth's whistles halted him.
He stopped and went back to Candy. By the time he got there, the cyborg had quit speaking.
The android said, "The commander says that the spaceboat will soon be in sight."
Jack went to tell Tappy and the Integrator. But the shaman was busy marshaling his people into three still- ragged concentric circles which had the rose-red throne as its center. He was honking away, and his aides were pushing and pulling their charges into their places. Everybody had a short stick with a gourd at its end. These had come with the food and cooking utensils but had not been unloaded until a few minutes ago.
The commander, viewing this scene from her spaceship, must be as uncertain about this activity as he was, Jack thought.
Then the entire group of Latest blasted out a sustained sound. While doing this, they looked upward and lifted their sticks and rattled the gourds with a mighty noise. Jack also gazed upward.
The spaceboat was a black dot in the blue sky. It swelled quickly and became a small needle-shaped vessel. The honkers went back to their preparations for whatever they were going to do.
Chapter 19
Just to make sure that the vessel would land at the distance indicated, a cross of stones had been laid out. Jack had not sent a message to this effect; he had assumed that the Gaol would figure it out. But the spaceboat settled down at a spot one hundred and eighty degrees north of the cross.
"Either he thinks there's a trap prepared under the cross or he's just contrary," Jack muttered to himself. It was also possible, however, that the negotiator was not as intelligent as he should be. Or that the cross symbol meant nothing in the Gaol culture.
A hatch on the side of the vessel opened, a ramp rolled out, and the negotiator walked out. The ramp slid back inside the hull, the hatch closed, and the vessel shot upward. It soon disappeared. About two minutes later, Garth whistled a message. Candy said, "The boat has now attained the agreed-upon altitude. If the commander is not lying."
Then the Gaol was walking across the plain, waddling a little because of its turtlelike underplate. His skin was much darker than that of the other Gaol Jack had seen. He had much higher cheekbones, and his eye sockets were square, not round. The Gaol, like humans, must have differentiated into races during their evolution.
Behind Jack, the honkers were still noisy as they organized the arrangement of the circles. A few seconds later, the Integrator joined Jack, Tappy, Candy, and Garth. He had turned over the directorship to an aide. Jack saw the shaman out of the corner of his eye. But when he turned his head toward him, he was startled. The severed head of the Gaol captain lay at the shaman's feet. Jack did not think that this defiant gesture was diplomatic. Surely, the negotiator would be offended. And so would the fleet commander, who would be looking at the head right now.
Jack started to ask Tappy to tell the shaman that he had acted untactfully. Then he closed his mouth. Why not show the ratcages that they were not quivering with fear of them?
"I wonder what the negotiator is going to say?" Tappy said nervously. Her hands were clasped on her stomach, and her face was even more drawn.
He hugged her briefly and said, "We'll find out. It's going to be okay, Tappy. The Integrator is planning something bad, real bad, for the Gaol. I'm sure of that."
The words were for her. He did not feel as confident as he sounded.
Presently, the Gaol halted a few feet from them. He glanced at the head lying at the shaman's feet. If he was affected by it in any way, he did not show it. He lifted his hands above his head and locked the thumbs. Candy said, "That means he comes in peace, and he plans no treachery. With your permission, I'll reply for you."
Jack nodded. She imitated the Gaol's gesture. The Gaol lowered his hands and whistled for at least a minute. Candy interpreted.
"I'll condense his speech if it is your will. Much of it is bragging about the might of the empire."
Jack said, "Fine, as long as you don't omit anything important."
"He says that this business could have been settled long ago if we non-Gaol were not subject to irrationality. But the Emperor has taken this into account. Therefore, since irrationality makes us delay the inevitable and we are procrastinators, the Emperor gives us more time than is necessary to make up our minds to accept what must be.
"He says that we must deliver the Imago to the commander of the fleet. When we do that, no harm will come to those who have fought the empire. You, Jack, may live here as long as you wish. In fact, the Emperor, in his magnanimity, will leave this planet alone. The Gaol will stay away from it.
"You will have four hours to consider the terms and to decide what a Gaol would have decided within a minute. The Emperor is patient."
"And what if we still persist in being irrational?" Jack said harshly. "What if we refuse to surrender the Imago? "
Candy whistled. The negotiator's expression did not change. His "speech" this time was much shorter.
Candy said, "He says that the Emperor is patient, but his patience is almost at an end. This time, the Imago will not escape. Even if they have to search every square meter of the planet on or below its surface, they will do so. And they will find it. "If, in our irrationality, we decide to kill the host and so release the Imago, we will all be killed. Indeed, all life on this planet will be destroyed. It will be so radioactive and so fragmented, nothing will ever again live here.
"Moreover, now that the empire has become aware of the native planet of the host's mate and it knows that there are gates to Earth, it will destroy Earth, too! He says to think of that, Earthman, before you defy the empire!"
Tappy gasped, and she gripped Jack's hand. Her hand felt very cold and damp.
The negotiator whistled. Candy said, "He says that the Emperor's terms have been delivered. There is no use continuing the meeting. He will be leaving as soon as his boat returns."
Jack thought of telling Candy to thank the Gaol for being such an excellent negotiator. Sarcasm, however, would probably ricochet off the Gaol's thick skull.
Presently, the boat landed. Before walking the half mile back to it, the negotiator whistled again. Then it turned and waddled away.
Candy said, "He said that the four hours allowed us start the moment he enters the boat."
The Integrator honked; Tappy replied; the shaman honked again. Then she spoke to Jack.
"I've told him what we and the Gaol said. He says that four hours should be enough. If, that is, all goes as he hopes it will, and if the Gaol don't break their word that we'll have that time. But it'll be, uh, how can I put it?"
After frowning for a moment, she said, "It'll be nip and tuck. It also will be chancy, iffy, but we have to do it!"
"Do what?" Jack said, close to snarling with frustration.
Tappy shrugged and lifted up her hands. "I don't know, and he won't tell me! But he says it'll be self-evident."
"The way of the honker," Jack said.
The shaman blasted again at Tappy. Then, his body movements expressing impatience, he took Tappy's hand and led her away. Jack, Candy, and Garth followed her. By then, he had become aware that the weather had changed. The sun was suddenly blocked. When he looked up, he saw that grayish clouds covered it. They scudded along, driven by a wind whose force was only beginning to be felt on the surface. The gentle breeze here had picked up a bit and hinted that it was going to get stronger. To the west, beyond the crater wall, black clouds towered. Lightning, very far away, flashed briefly and weakly. But the menacing-looking clouds would soon be over the crater floor itself, bringing with them the lightning.