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I'd say you'd done all right, if you get what I mean, Kiachif commented, waving at the scene outside where Hrrubans and Terrans worked easily together, covering stacked crates with plastic cocoons

We have, it is true, established an outwardly harmonious relationship, Hu Shih agreed cautiously, but we are also forced by circumstance to expose a less advanced race prematurely to certain aspects of our culture which may well jeopardize their proper evolution.

They've exposed us to a few aspects of their culture that make ours look sicker than it is, McKee reminded the colony chief drily.

"Look, Hu Shih," Kiachif said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "you guys work like trolls for three hundred days, with nothing worse to deal with than the local carnivores, because Codep has said this planet's uninhabited. Okay, Codep goofed. You didn't. You're here, you've got your families if you see what I mean." He cocked his head, his eyes glinting as a knowing smile parted his thin lips. It faded abruptly as the captain sighed in patient exasperation. "I see you don't see what I mean,'' and he pointed significantly at the distant hills.

Oh, no. Absolutely no, Hu Shih declared as he suddenly grasped the Captain's meaning. We must leave when Codep's orders arrive, for that is the honorable thing to do.

The captain's hooded eyes narrowed slightly and one stained index finger speculatively scratched a hairy cheek.

Why? Kiachif drawled.

Why, because of the Principle of Non-Cohabitation.

Why? Kiachif repeated stubbornly.

Because of the Siwannese, man, McKee snapped impatiently. The captain was pointing out an alternative that was all too tempting.

Why, because of the Siwannese? Kiachif pursued ruthlessly. That Siwannah affair happened over two hundred years ago. And they were dolts, those Siwannese, anyway.

A shocked silence filled the room at such irreverence.

Aaah, by the walloping widow, you've all been taken in, the captain scoffed. Hitching his jacket up on his shoulders, he planted both forearms on the table and leaned earnestly forward.

So one paranoid race commits mass suicide and the tender conscience of our planet backs away forever from the challenge of contact with any intelligent species. His scathing look called them all cowards. Have ye never wondered what'll happen when we meet our equals? Oh, none such as those domesticated cat creatures. But our real equals. What'll the tender-minded do then? Humph. I suppose it'll be our turn to commit ritual suicide. Not that that's not what all the land-siders are doing right now, crowding everyone into lifetime coffin-sized rooms, he snorted contemptuously. If you get what I mean.

"You forget, Captain," Hu Shih said gently, pressing his fingertips together, ''that the Tragedy at Siwannah must be the last outrage our race perpetrates against a helpless minority. It must be the last one. We have so many to regret starting with the Egyptian treatment of the wandering Semitic tribes, the decimation of the Caribs, the annihilation of the Amerinds, the German massacre of the Jews, the Chinese Attempt in 1974, the Black Riots of 1980. One goes on indefinitely until the Amalgamation of 2010 which was probably bloodier than any previous pogrom. We are all products of that decision from which we retain only ethnic surnames," and Hu Shih's graceful wave included everyone. "It isn't reassuring to wonder what further terrible incidents man would have on his conscience with such a background were he not restrained by the Principle."

"Yechk!" Kiachif said derisively. "Pure luck. Wouldn't have happened on any other planet!" His stained finger pointed accusingly at the metropologist, who regarded it with hypnotic fascination. "And it wouldn't have resulted in such stupidity as that fool Principle if Terra hadn't just recovered from that nasty Amalgamation. The stabbing finger swung 180 degrees and shook out the window at the busy scene on the Common. "D'ye think those cats would have curried their fur and placidly lain down to die? No! Far better for our poor over-packed planet if we'd met them first." Kiachif's eyes widened to incredible circles of white, emphasized by the regular half-circle of black eyebrows. "Have any of you," he asked softly in a sudden switch of mood, his eyes narrowed again, "ever read the transcript of the Siwannach? What? Ssshuuu," Kiachif whistled in disgust. Up went his hands in a gesture of exasperation, one descending with a loud clap to his knee, the other to resuming its remorseless probing.

So! You must know you were being drugged into automatons on Earth. You certainly risked the indignities that they always heap on Inactives, in order to get away. But, the finger jabbed toward Reeve, then McKee and finally to the metropologist, you don't rouse yourselves enough to question what you've been taught. You hate a cramped, machine-made existence but don't question why you have to endure it. You question the emptiness of life but not why you have to wait so long for an opportunity to leave it. And you never question why this doesn't change. There have to be changes in a world if it's to grow and I don't mean spread out I mean grow up you see what I mean? The captain's voice was cajoling. Haven't you ever really looked at the beginnings of those idiotic restrictions?

"I have read the original Siwannach transcripts, Captain," Hu Shih said, gently firm." And I know to what you refer; that one little phrase that some believe was innocently mispronounced. That one little phrase that caused a whole race of profoundly gentle, devout people to commit suicide. It is a case in point of what I have always said: no adult ever really learns the nuance and rhythm of another language perfectly." He sighed deeply. "At least the Amalgamation provided one common language in which all express themselves, even as the ancient Chinese philosopher Lao Tze suggested 6500 years ago. However," and Hu Shih held up one slender hand, a contrast to the large blunt-fingered fist of Kiachif, "it was not only regret at such an occurrence and a desire to avoid a repetition which prompted the Non-Cohabitation Principle. It was the feeling that the greedy acquisition of more planets on which to spread the products of our then uncontrolled breeding was not the real answer to our problem. It was the knowledge that we have no right to take away from another species their own peculiar road toward self-fulfillment. What role might the Amerinds have played in history if the white man had not weakened them with measles and small-pox and whisky? What tragedies might have been avoided if the black man had not been wrenched from his own continent by gold-hungry exploiters? Oh, the list of intentional atrocities is so long. No, and the gentle voice was as inexorable as Kiachifs histrionics, "the Non-Cohabitation Principle is a sound one, a just one and, to my great shame, we have broken it. That is why we must perpetrate no lasting harm on these pleasant friendly people."

The captain is also right, Shih, McKee put in quietly. He has to follow his schedule. That means we stay until Codep recalls us, if you get what we mean.

Hu Shih drew himself up and looked so disapproving that McKee blanched and dropped his eyes.

I get what you mean, Macy. And I repeat we leave when we are ordered to. And if that homing capsule arrives before tomorrow's blast-off, we leave tomorrow.

The metropologist did not see the not-if-I-can-avoid-it expression of Kiachifs face.

Super, the Captain boomed out to break the awkward pause, all your papers in order? I'm getting mighty hungry for what smells like honest-injun food. By the Great Horned Toad, that aroma's killing me, and he drew in a massive breath from the open window. If you get what I mean!

Chapter XI. THE FEAST

THE HUGE BONFIRE burned with a bluish-purple, orange-tipped flame, lighting the Common spectacularly. Trestle tables had been set up and hastily improvised benches had been extruded from plastic scrounged from the ship's supplies. To men long celibate there was the wonderful presence of women, coming and going between the mess hall and the barbecue pit. There Ramasan presided over the spit with the huge prong-horned urf buck slain by the joint efforts of Hrruban and Terran hunters for the occasion. Torches moved down the long slope from Saddle Ridge, across the river, as still more Hrrubans came to the feast. As the firelight threw shadows of grotesque parodies, Ken wondered that there were so many Hrrubans in the one village.