The ironical part of it all is that Landreau is right, she mused. They are aliens.
Ken leaned forward, supporting his elbows on his knees.
"They must be, I suppose," he agreed reluctantly, "because I cannot figure out how else they could dismantle that village and the other five and hide them so effectively. Carrying houses through the forest? Up the mountainside? Throw 'em into the river?" He shook his head. "Even if they could have hidden the houses somewhere in the deepest caves, for instance it just wasn't physically possible in the time between Landreau's touch-down and our arrival at the village.
It just isn't possible, even with an advanced technology, to spirit away a substantial installation in a few minutes. I admit, he said generously as the two saw Todd appear on the far approach of the bridge, that they had more time to take the other villages apart, but not Hrrestan's.
Kate sighed over the enigma. Todd scuffled toward the bridge alone, his step still jaunty after a long, busy day. He turned toward the woods, his figure alert, and tentatively raised one arm in farewell. Hrriss must be just beyond their sight, Ken decided. Todd turned homeward, kicking a stone out of his path as he trod across the bridge. His purring song was now audible in the quiet evening air.
But I don't understand why they'd want to disappear in the first place, Kate remarked plaintively. Particularly since they know we've taken films of them and taped their voices. I mean, why hide from Landreau?
I haven't figured that out either, but it's the nub of the solution.
I should think that they would have shown themselves to Landreau. I mean one man, in a small ship, couldn't constitute a menace to the Hrrubans, so why leave without explanation or clue? Kate was saying as Todd passed them on his way to the house.
Todd halted and regarded them thoughtfully.
Hrriss said things aren't ready yet, he volunteered.
Oh, Kate drawled slowly, laying a warning hand on Ken's arm as she felt him stiffen attentively. What things aren't ready? she asked in the manner of the indifferent adult.
Todd shrugged. Oh. things. He looked down again at his bare dirty toes. Then he gazed off again toward the bridge, his eyes squinting in the last brilliance of the setting sun.
So they had to go away to get things ready? prompted Kate absently.
You mean when he was here? and Todd jerked a finger skyward.
Hmmm, Kate agreed. Ken was awed by the control of her relaxed, semi-indifferent manner.
Naww, Todd replied. Mom, can I have something to eat? Hrriss and me missed supper.
Certainly. Come in and wash first, though, Pat replied, unaware of what she was interrupting with her ready acquiescence.
Ken and Kate exchanged disgusted looks.
What things? Ken demanded in frustration when Todd had disappeared into the house. Why must things be ready?
Well, if the confusion from our planet is any indication, they must be overheating their computer circuits for a print-out on their own colonial program, Kate suggested, sluffing off her own disappointment with wry humor.
"How much time do they need? And for what? And how can you extrapolate a computer science for the Hrrubans " and Ken stopped, suddenly struck by the memory of Hrrula scratching in the dust on Saddle Ridge. Goddammit, the man had drawn samples of a binary-type computer print-out. That couldn't have been a random design, the odds were too much against it. Ken squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to recall the exact pattern of 0 and 1 which Hrrula had inscribed. The Hrruban had been trying to give him a message, perhaps. But why not speak it out loud? Oh, he had had the tape on, but what would that matter? All right, Reeve, think a little. Ken slapped his forehead.
Inspiration?" asked Kate, amused at his distress.
No, I can't remember something which might be important, he gritted out between teeth clenched at his own density. Kate would begin to believe he had gone bonkers if he voiced his incredible notion.
And suddenly Ken was certain that Hrrula had meant to reassure him by that curious method. He couldn't speak out because Ken groaned inwardly this time because Hrrula was also using a tape recorder, hidden somewhere on his person which could be easy with such a mane of hair. Or secreted in that ornate knife handle. A race that could disappear in a flash could also have miniature recording devices. Again Ken writhed inwardly. What were the odds that the Hrrubans had bugged the colony, barn, mess hall and cabin? Very high, Reeve, very high.
Panic flooded him as he tried to edit every gathering, every conversation that might have any derogatory comments that would prejudice the Hrrubans against them. Well, that explained Hrrula's sometimes capricious use of good Terran. Was he perhaps the Hrruban semanticist? No, he'd been in the village when Ken had made the first contact. Or had the Hrrubans already known the Terrans were in residence and prepared for it? Why do that? No, he was positive that the Terrans were as much a surprise to the Hrrubans as they to the colonists. But the aliens no, better keep the mental tag of 'natives' he cautioned himself the natives were far too familiar with the flora, fauna and dangers of Doona to have come after the colonists. But why the simple villages, the lack of sophisticated tools and equipment? Albeit, the Terrans had imported little automated-mechanisms; mass had been their problem in Phase III, so they had brought in only the versatile tractor sled and heat converters. What was Doona to the Hrrubans then? And was the colony still faced with a test case of the Non-Co-habitation Principle? On what count had Hrrula wished to reassure him?
Kate was asking him something and he mumbled a meaningless agreement, relieved that it seemed to suffice. Resolutely he shoved the enigma of the Hrrubans to the back of his mind until she had left.
But it wasn't until that night that he could return to the intricacies of the problem. Friend or foe? Christ, what had they been discussing when Hrrula doodled in the dust? Oh yeah, about the colony leaving because the planet was already inhabited. And then he'd gone on at length about the long history of the Terranic aggression and genocide. Ohhh, he groaned at the memory of such an admission reaching Hrruban ears; ears unfamiliar with the Terran language. What on earth had possessed him to talk about that phase of Terran history in the first place? What an impression to be misinterpreted!
Oh God, and Ken rolled over, groaning with retrospective impotence. How far up the scale of civilization were these Hrrubans? Might they be powerful enough to wipe out the Terrans as unfit to spread through the galaxy? Would the Terrans suddenly become this century's Siwannah Tragedy? And why did they play at being simple souls?
Suddenly his sense of proportion overrode this wallowing in remorse. And he was put in mind of Todd, with the ridiculous rope tail dangling aft. Todd, whom the Hrrubans cultivated assiduously; Hrrula, fascinated by horses, secretly amused, and practicing subterfuge to reassure Ken. Yes, by God, all instinct informed Ken that Hrrula had been reassuring him.
In the restless half-doze that finally overtook him, Ken was again subjected to his personal nightmare. It was so much a part of his sleeping pattern that he could enter the dream at any point of its familiar course. Any point, that is, except the ending, which eluded him always. Tonight he involuntarily started at the beginning. There was the gray street of towers, towers looming unimaginably far above him, defying geometric axiom by touching the tips of their parallel towers so that the desired sight of the sun was denied him. Onward he would dash, to the left, to the right, backward, forward. Then the mocking towers were telescoping into themselves so that there was the tantalizing glimpse of sunlight. Frantic, he would try to climb a tower, but as soon as he found a short stack, it would shoot up and its neighbors would crouch down into their bowels. Somehow, he could choose another tower, despite the eccentricities, and doggedly climb, while on either side other towers taunted him with diminished length. And it would be difficult to get hand and foot holds on the tower wall, for the surfaces would rearrange themselves He could climb, panting, thirsty, weary, hot, desperate, climb and climb and climb. Suddenly the blessing of sunlight blinded him. Threshing he woke, trying to shake off the miasma of his dream, grateful that it was Doona's sun which had awakened him.