The Collection (13 page)

Casey, owner of the tavern, was the first one to see them
coming across the plain, from the direction of the mountain range to the east.
He'd stepped out of the back door of his tavern for a breath of fresh, if hot,
air. They were about a hundred yards away at that time, and already he could
see the utter alienness of the figure on the lead burro. Just alienness at that
distance, the horror came only at closer range. Casey's jaw dropped and stayed
down until the strange trio was about fifty yards away, then he started slowly
toward them. There are people who run at the sight of the unknown, others who
advance to meet it. Casey advanced, however slowly, to meet it.

Still in the wide open, twenty yards from the back of the
little tavern, he met them. Dade Grant stopped and dropped the rope by which he
was leading the burro. The burro stood still and dropped its head. The
stick-man stood up simply by planting his feet solidly and standing, astride
the burro. He stepped one leg across it and stood a moment, leaning his weight
against his hands on the burro
^'
s back, and then sat down in the
sand. "High-gravity planet," he said. "Can't stand long."

"Kin I get water for my burro?" the prospector
asked Casey.
^"
Must be purty thirsty by now. Hadda leave water
bags, some other things, so it could carry—" He jerked a thumb toward the
red-and-blue horror.

Casey was just realizing that it was a horror. At a distance
the color combination seemed a bit
outre,
but close— The skin was rough
and seemed to have veins on the outside and looked moist (although it wasn't)
and
damn
if it didn't look just like he had his skin peeled off and put
back upside down. Or just peeled off, period. Casey had never seen anything
like it and hoped he wouldn't ever see anything like it again.

Casey felt something behind him and looked over his shoulder.
Others had seen now and were coming, but the nearest of them, a pair of boys,
were ten yards behind him.
"Muchachos,"
he called out.
"Agua por el burro. Un pazal.
Pronto?

He looked back and said, 'What-? Who—?"

^"
Name
^'
s Dade Grant,
^"
said the prospector, putting out a hand, which Casey took absently. When he let
go of it it jerked back over the desert rat's shoulder, thumb indicating the
thing that sat on the sand.
^"
His name
^'
s Garth, he
tells me. He
^'
s an extra something or other, and he
^'
s some
kind of minister.
^"

Casey nodded at the stick-man and was glad to get a nod in
return instead of an extended hand.
^"
I
^'
m
Manuel
Casey,
^"
he said. 'What does he mean, an extra something?"

The stick-man
^'
s voice was unexpectedly deep and
vibrant.
^"
I
am an extraterrestrial. And a minister plenipotentiary.
^"

Surprisingly, Casey was a moderately well-educated man and
knew both of those phrases; he was probably the only person in Cherrybell who
would have known the second one. Less surprisingly, considering the speaker
^'
s
appearance, he believed both of them.
^'
What can I do for you, sir?
^"
he asked.
^"
But first, why not come in out of the sun?
^"

^"
No, thank you. It
^'
s a bit cooler
here than they told me it would be, but I
^'
m quite comfortable. This
is equivalent to a cool spring evening on my planet. And as to what you can do
for me, you can notify your authorities of my presence. I believe they will be
interested."

Well, Casey thought, by blind luck he's hit the best man for
his purpose within at least twenty miles. Manuel Casey was half-Irish, half-Mexican.
He had a half-brother who was half-Irish and half assorted-American, and the
half-brother was a bird colonel at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base in Tucson. He
said,
^"
Just a minute, Mr. Garth, I
^'
ll telephone.
You, Mr. Grant, would you want to come inside?
^"

^"
Naw, I don
^'
t mind sun. Out in it
all day every day. An
^'
Garth here, he ast me if I'd stick with him
till he was finished with what he
^'
s gotta do here. Said he
^'
d
gimme somethin
^'
purty vallable if I did. Somethin
^'
—a
^'
lectrononic—
^"

^"
An electronic battery-operated portable ore
indicator,
^"
Garth said.
^"
A
simple
little device, indicates presence of a concentration of ore up to two miles,
indicates kind, grade, quantity and depth.
^"

Casey gulped, excused himself, and pushed through the gathering
crowd into his tavern. He had Colonel Casey on the phone in one minute, but it
took him another four minutes to convince the colonel that he was neither drunk
nor joking.

Twenty-five minutes after that there was a noise in the sky,
a noise that swelled and then died as a four-man helicopter sat down and shut
off its rotors a dozen yards from an extraterrestrial, two men and a burro.
Casey alone had had the courage to rejoin the trio from the desert; there were
other spectators, but they still held well back.

Colonel Casey, a major, a captain and a lieutenant who was
the
^.
helicopter's pilot all came out and ran over. The stick-man
stood up, all nine feet of him; from the effort it cost him to stand you could
tell that he was used to a much lighter gravity than Earth
^'
s. He
bowed, repeated his name and identification of himself as an extraterrestrial
and a minister plenipotentiary. Then he apologized for sitting down again,
explained why it was necessary, and sat down.

The colonel introduced himself and the three who had come
with him.
^"
And now, sir, what can we do for you?
^"

The stick-man made a grimace that was probably intended as a
smile. His teeth were the same light blue as his hair and eyes. "You have
a cliche, `take me to your leader.' I do not ask that. In fact, I
must
remain
here. Nor do I ask that any of your leaders be brought here to me. That would
be impolite. I am perfectly willing for you to represent them, to talk to you
and let you question me. But I do ask one thing.

"You have tape recorders. I ask that, before I talk or
answer questions, you have one brought. I want to be sure that the message
your leaders eventually receive is full and accurate.
^"

"Fine," the colonel said. He turned to the pilot.
^"
Lieutenant,
get on the radio in the whirlybird and tell them to get us a tape recorder
faster than possible. It can be dropped by para— No, that
^'
d take
longer, rigging it for a drop. Have them send it by another helicopter."
The lieutenant turned to go.
^"
Hey," the colonel said.
"Also fifty yards of extension cord. We'll have to plug it in inside Manny
^'
s
tavern.
^"

The lieutenant sprinted for the helicopter.

The others sat and sweated a moment and then Manuel Casey
stood up. "That's a half an hour wait," he said, "and if we're
going to sit here in the sun, who
^'
s for a bottle of cold beer? You,
Mr. Garth?
^"

"It is a cold beverage, is it not? I am a bit chilly.
If you have something hot—?
^"

^"
Coffee, coming up. Can I bring you a
blanket?
^"

^"
No, thank you. It will not be necessary.
^"

Casey left and shortly returned with a tray with half a
dozen bottles of cold beer and a cup of steaming coffee. The lieutenant was
back by then. Casey put down the tray and first served the stick-man, who
sipped the coffee and said,
^"
It is delicious.
^"

Colonel Casey cleared his throat. "Serve our prospector
friend next, Manny. As for us—well, drinking is forbidden on duty, but it was a
hundred and twelve in the shade in Tucson, and this is hotter and also is
not
in the shade. Gentlemen, consider yourselves on official leave for as long
as it takes you to drink one bottle of beer, or until the tape recorder
arrives, whichever comes first.
^"

The beer was finished first, but by the time the last of it
had vanished, the second helicopter was within sight and sound. Casey asked the
stick-man if he wanted more coffee. The offer was politely declined. Casey
looked at Dade Grant and winked and the desert rat winked back, so Casey went
in for two more bottles, one apiece for the civilian terrestrials. Coming back
he met the lieutenant coming with the extension cord and returned as far as the
doorway to show him where to plug it in.

When he came back, he saw that the second helicopter had
brought its full complement of four, besides the tape recorder. There were,
besides the pilot who had flown it, a technical sergeant who was skilled in
the operation of the tape recorder and who was now making adjustments on it,
and a lieutenant-colonel and a warrant officer who had come along for the ride
or because they had been made curious by the request for a tape recorder to be
rushed to Cherrybell, Arizona, by air. They were standing gaping at the
stick-man and whispered conversations were going on.

The colonel said,
^"
Attention
^"
quietly, but it brought complete silence. "Please sit down, gentlemen. In
a rough circle. Sergeant, if you rig your mike in the center of the circle,
will it pick up clearly what any one of us may say?"

"Yes, sir. I'm almost ready."

Ten men and one extraterrestrial humanoid sat in a rough circle,
with the microphone hanging from a small tripod in the approximate center. The
humans were sweating profusely; the humanoid shivered slighty. Just outside the
circle, the burro stood dejectedly, its head low. Edging closer, but still
about five yards away, spread out now in a semicircle, was the entire population
of Cherrybell who had been at home at the time; the stores and the filling
stations were deserted.

The technical sergeant pushed a button and the tape recorder
^'
s
reel started to turn.
^"
Testing . . . testing," he said. He
held down the rewind button for a second and then pushed the playback button.
^"
Testing
. . . testing," said the recorder
^'
s speaker. Loud and clear.
The sergeant pushed the rewind button, then the erase one to clear the tape.
Then the stop button.
^"
When I push the next button, sir,
^"
he said to the colonel,
^"
we
^'
ll be recording.
^"

The colonel looked at the tall extraterrestrial, who nodded,
and then the colonel nodded at the sergeant. The sergeant pushed the recording
button.

^"
My name is Garth,
^"
said the
stick-man, slowly and clearly. "I am from a planet of a star which is not
listed in your star catalogs, although the globular cluster in which it is one
of ninety thousand stars, is known to you. It is, from here, in the direction
of the center of the galaxy at a distance of a little over four thousand
light-years.

^"
However, I am not here as a representative
of my planet or my people, but as minister plenipotentiary of the Galactic
Union, a federation of the enlightened civilizations of the galaxy, for the
good of all. It is my assignment to visit you and decide, here and now,
whether or not you are to be welcomed to join our federation.

^"
You may now ask questions freely. However,
I reserve the right to postpone answering some of them until my decision has
been made. If the decision is favorable, I will then answer all questions,
including the ones I have postponed answering mean-while. Is that satisfactory?
^"

^"
Yes,
^"
said the colonel.
^"
How
did you come here? A spaceship?"

^"
Correct. It is overhead right now, in orbit
twenty-two thousand miles out, so it revolves with the earth and stays over
this one spot. I am under observation from it, which is one reason I prefer to
remain here in the open. I am to signal it when I want it to come down to pick
me up.
^"

"How do you know our language so fluently? Are you telepathic?
^"

^"
No, I am not. And nowhere in the galaxy is
any race telepathic except among its own members. I was taught your language,
for this purpose. We have had observers among you for many centuries—by
we,
I
mean the Galactic Union, of course. Quite obviously I could not pass as an
Earthman, but there are other races who can. Incidentally, they are not spies,
or agents; they have in no way tried to affect you; they are observers and that
is all."

^"
What benefits do we get from joining your
union, if we are asked and if we accept?" the colonel asked.

"First, a quick course in the fundamental social
sciences which will end your tendency to fight among yourselves and end or at least
control your aggressions. After we are satisfied that you have accomplished
that and it is safe for you to do so, you will be given space travel, and many
other things, as rapidly as you are able to assimilate them."

"And if we are not asked, or refuse?"

"Nothing. You will be left alone; even our observers
will be withdrawn. You will work out your own fate—either you will render your
planet uninhabited and uninhabitable within the next century, or you will
master social science yourselves and again be candidates for membership and
again be offered membership. We will check from time to time and if and when
it appears certain that you are not going to destroy yourselves, you will
again be approached."