Slow or not, no better plan was conceived among six of us who met secretly that night in Benson"s new ship quarters. Donnegan brought his fellow biologist, Terrence Frost, and I had contacted the two medics. We reached swift agreement as to the necessity of taking steps, and decided to work on my rough plan. It was also voted not to divulge our intentions to the others, and then the meeting broke up.
When I returned to my hut, Jane was sitting cross-legged just outside my door visiting with Susan. I thought she would be curious about the confidential nature of the meeting from which she was excluded, but she had other things on her mind. She stood up and said, "I think your patient is recovered, and you"ve got a problem, mister." She stalked off into the night.
I looked at Sue"s pink face and half-guessed the answer before she told me. It seemed that Joe had suddenly developed amorous inclinations. Sue had the habit of stroking his head like a pet dog, and this evening, without warning, Joe had begun returning the caresses in a manner so casual and gentle that Sue hadn"t noticed the trend.
From a more objective viewpoint, however, Jane had observed the rather unplatonic indications of Joe"s att.i.tude and mortified Sue by drawing her attention to it with an acid remark.
In my fury I fancied that Joe had tried to take advantage of my absence.
His cleverness in avoiding such advances in my presence was nullified by his error of a.s.suming that Jane would pose no obstacle.
At present he sprawled in his corner beside an empty mango skin, breathing rapidly, innocently asleep. The incident served to drive home Donnegan"s story and steel me against the many twinges of conscience I was to suffer in our campaign to wipe out Joe"s race.
It also served as an adequate excuse, in Sue"s eyes, when I told Joe the next morning that he was quite well enough to return to the forest. This was a fact we both had known for over a week, but Joe in his indolent way, had been quite content to remain and talk with me endlessly. Until now, I had welcomed his presence as an inexhaustible source of information.
He accepted the dismissal without rancor and promised to return and visit us next spring.
"Next spring?" I said.
"We will leave soon," he said. "We go south in the autumn."
"Wait," I said. And I told him that as a gesture of friendship we had decided to take all males of his race for a tour through the ship. Would he take this word to his people?
He said he would, but his face became very thoughtful.
That afternoon they formed a short line at the ramp, and the "tours"
began. The line was short because they refused to wait long for anything, but as the line shortened, others came from the woods to take their places. To produce a favorable "press" on our show and thus a.s.sure perfect attendance by _all_ the males, Benson rigged several mechanical displays of flashing lights and whirling devices.
They were delighted, and when they got to the X-ray booth, to induce them to stand still we set up a gas torch with a beautiful, vermilion, strontium flame. The only problem at this point was to get them to move on after they got their painless dose of sterilizing radiation.
Every tenth "golden boy" was shunted into a small chamber filled with _orgon_, the instant anaesthetizing gas, and Dr. Sorenson, wearing an oxygen mask, would catch him as he fell, take his specimen, hand it through a slot to Dr. Bailey and then drag the unsuspecting victim into the fresh air where the nurses took over with more wonders to distract his attention.
This running spot-check on the collected s.e.m.e.n samples a.s.sured us that our radiation was effectively destroying the spermatozoa.
I sat at my old place at the base of the ramp, weeding out the occasional females who tried to sneak in and also checking to see that we had no repeats.
Our method was simplicity itself. As each native finished our tour an attendant atomized a faint but very permanent stain of waterproof dye on the hair of the right shoulder blade. It was hardly noticeable unless you were looking for it, and that was one of my jobs.
In two days we "toured" 481 males.
A week later the night rains began, and our unwelcomed neighbors vanished.
Benson had postponed his little lecture deliberately, and now he called us all together for a fatherly talk which I helped him prepare. He began abruptly.
"Since nature has been so bountiful in providing us with tala, I don"t intend to proclaim any silly prohibition regarding its consumption. With a little reflection, however, I hope that all of you can understand that we must have some control. I am fully aware that many of you arranged your own private channels for obtaining this liquor, but with the departure of our tree-climbing friends the easy source has dried up.
"Now, to prevent some of you from breaking your fool necks trying to climb the trees yourselves, I propose that we place tala in the commissary as a normal ration to be issued equitably to all--when it is available. And working together, our clearing parties will, no doubt, fell enough mango trees to give us all a fair taste."
Benson"s unexpected tolerance and remarkable proposal was received with mixed embarra.s.sment, relief and enthusiasm. He went on, "We have enjoyed almost two months of rather unrestrained partying, and I"m not going to rail at you for some of the illicit behaviour that came to my attention.
So far the intimacies which some of you took with the natives have produced no epidemics nor b.a.s.t.a.r.d offspring on either side. However, were I to accept your actions as typical of the future, I would consider our colony doomed already and write off this planet as unfit for further investment by Earth civilization.
"Instead, I feel you will, during the winter months, regain your perspective and apply yourself to the principles which brought us here and must continue to bind us together if we are to survive as a permanent culture."
Benson"s speech had the desired effect. Without the little people around to distract us, the colonists plunged into their work, and things got done. True, a rather disproportionate number of logs brought in by the falling crews turned out to be mango-wood, but the tala-rationing program added incentive precisely where it was needed. The perimeter of our clearing advanced rapidly, the cultivating and planting parties followed closely behind, and the sawmill added an industrious sound to the whole operation.
As Benson had hoped, when the people buckled down they once again began yearning for the conveniences they had left on earth. The chemists finally contrived suitable raw materials for the plasticizer and began manufacturing screens for our gaping windows, much-needed pipe for our water and sewage systems and even a few "frivolous" luxuries such as cups, saucers and fruit bowls. The commissary and other public buildings were planked out roughly, and the hospital-clinic was completed before the first two babies arrived.
The history-making blessed event was an honor and an onus to Captain Spooner and his young wife. To father the first human offspring on Sirius XXII was the fond hope of many of us, but Spooner and the Second Officer had something over a light-year head-start on the rest of us.
Infant Spooner arrived just 5-1/2 months after our landing. The Mate"s baby came two weeks later. Sue herself was satisfyingly pregnant. By spring it was obvious that Earth"s gynecologists had chosen the members of our colony well, and there would be no dearth of young blood. Fully a third of the women were expecting, and Sue"s date indicated she would have won the derby if it hadn"t been for the ship"s officers" perfidy.
The colony as a whole was in good shape. As the most pressing work was disposed of, the men took turns at the pleasant hunting details, and we began enjoying fresh meat from the small game of the forest.
On one such trip I brought back a live little animal that looked like a cross between a three-toed sloth and a teddy bear, except that he had a long, woofly snout like an ant-eater. He seemed to be hibernating in the crotch of a small tree, and when I shook him down he cuddled up and clung to my neck so lovingly that I decided he"d make a good pet for Sue.
The little cub kept nipping affectionately at my neck on the hike back, and he clung so close he was a nuisance, but Sue was delighted. We had to improvise a cage at night to keep him from mauling us and keeping us awake.
Sue named him, "Toots", and we were the envy of all the camp. When Joe and his people returned three weeks later, and we discovered the truth about Toots, the others were happy they hadn"t acquired a similar pet.
It was late spring, and the mango trees were rapidly refilling their high branches with the tala-fruit. We now had a roofed central kitchen where the women prepared our meals. We ate at long tables in the open.
Shortly after the noon meal one day, Joe and his people returned. He caught up to Sue and me as we were strolling to our hut for our daily fifteen-minute siesta. He appeared tired from the journey but quite glad to see us. I felt the pangs of conscience as I added my hypocritical welcome to Sue"s warm greeting.
In his old room we sat on the rough furniture I had fashioned, and Joe eyed Sue"s fruitful contours. "A baby soon, eh? We have many babies among us."
"You--have?" I said.
"Many were born on the return trip. They slowed up the females with their sucking. For eight days they are a burden on the mother."
Sue exclaimed, "Eight days? Then what happens?"
The subject did not greatly interest Joe. "Then they find their own food--if the _koodi_ does not find them first."
"What in the world is a _koodi_?" Sue asked with a shiver.
Joe was silent for a minute. He wrinkled his broad brow and looked at me. "Samrogers, you asked me many questions about how we die. I did not understand this death for a long time. Now I know. It is when the _koodi_ comes. He comes to the very young and to the old. The babies are too small to hold him off. The old drink much tala, then the _koodi_ comes to them. This is my third year, and my thirst for tala is great.
The _koodi_ will come."
His words painted a clear picture of a superst.i.tious concept of death, personifying it even as humans refer to the "grim reaper". But Sue took a different view. "What does the _koodi_ look like?" she persisted.
Joe looked puzzled. He raised a long, four-segmented finger and pointed to a corner of the room where Toots was curled up like a fur neck-piece.
"He looks like that. There is a _koodi_."
My first impulse was to reject the statement as ridiculous. Toots was as harmless as an over-sized kitten. Besides, the manual made no mention of--
Sue made a small sound in her throat. Her face was colorless. "Sam! Get him out of here!"