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As he turned to go Martin gave Cromonar an unseen wave, and was about to say “Be seeing you” when he thought better of it.

“We’ll stay in touch,” he said.

Chapter 18

IN the eight years since contact had first been established, they revisited the planet of the Blind Ones three times. The visits had not been strictly necessary, but special provision had to be made for the education and subsequent examination for Federation Citizenship of a candidate species who possessed only one sensory channel. While Cromonar’s people were not distrustful of the Federation’s motives, when situations arose which were particularly delicate or complex, they preferred the personal contact of Martin and Beth to the cold, artificial touchings of induction center robots.

These extended visits had been allowed, the supervisor told them, because there was nothing more urgent or important requiring their attention. In answer to persistent questioning they had been told that first-contact situations were still occurring, but that the physiologies and environments of the life forms concerned were such that the assignments could not be carried out by warmblooded oxygen-breathers without an unacceptable level of risk.

As a result they had been given a succession of assignments which, however interesting, varied, and demanding, were simply odd-jobs. And this latest one, Martin thought as he stared through the aircraft’s nose canopy, involved a trip inside the World itself.

Far below them there unrolled a rich, dark carpet of synthetic soil which stretched endlessly toward the nonexistent horizon until sheer distance, even in this pellucidly clear and cloudless sky, made it disappear into haze. At this latitude it was possible to circumnavigate the globe without seeing any change in the scenery, so widely scattered were the inhabited areas. But if their atmospheric craft’s respectable Mach 3 could have been maintained without stopping for the replacement of age-expired components, or crews, circumnavigation would have taken more than two centuries.

In the controlled and utterly calm atmosphere of this world, the airborne seeds and spores from the seven-thousand-miles-distant cultivated area which was their destination did not propagate at anything like Mach 3, and so the soil below remained fallow.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Beth said as she stared intently into the incredibly distant haze. “It’s too big. I feel much more comfortable in the more confined depths of interstellar space.”

Martin laughed sympathetically. “With me, it is a feeling of awe mixed with utter boredom. Knowing our masters, the feelings are being engendered deliberately. They want to remind us of our origin and purpose from time to time, so that when we speak of this place to others it will be with conviction.

“When we say big,” he added, laughing, “we will mean big.”

“And our passengers?” Beth asked.

“Even though they live here as Citizens,” Martin replied, “I expect they need to be reminded, too. Especially when they decide to go calling on their neighbors.”

Beth sighed and said, “We’ll be landing before midday meal tomorrow. Maybe we should go back and try to talk to them again about the difficulties they can expect. Not to frighten or discourage them, of course. We must try to be realistic but reassuring, if that isn’t a contradiction in terms.”

“It is,” Martin replied shortly, then added, “They don’t even like us, and don’t seem to listen to anything I say. Citizens!”

“Fortunately,” she said, smiling, “you’re the contact specialist. I’m just the driver. Let’s go.”

The lounge currently being occupied by the passengers smelled to high Heaven but, because the body odor was alien, it was neither pleasant nor unpleasant. In addition to the smell, the air was filled with an alien gabble which was being processed by his translator into the buzz of excited conversation. The sound faded for a moment as he entered, then continued at a higher level.

Martin tried to control his irritation. From a species which had been Federation Citizens for three generations, he had expected better manners.

When he and Beth had been recalled to the Federation World they had wondered what, if any, work could be found for a hypership captain and a first-contact and assessment specialist to do there. But they had quickly discovered that a Ship Handler One was expected to handle vessels of all sizes down to small atmosphere craft, and a Contactor Three had to do his job whether he was at the outermost edges of the galaxy or at home.

Their assignment instructions had left them in no doubt about that.

A GROUP OF CITIZENS BELONGING TO THE RACE INHABITING AREA BD72355-8 HAVE DECIDED TO BROADEN THEIR SOCIAL AND CULTURAL AWARENESS BY OPENING OTHER-SPECIES CONTACT IN DEPTH. YOU WILL ADVISE AND ASSIST THIS PROJECT AS REQUIRED AND OBSERVE THE INITIAL REACTIONS OF BOTH GROUPS. IF THE CONTACT ATTEMPT IS CLEARLY PREMATURE. YOUR REPORT SHOULD REACH ME BEFORE AN ACT OF VIOLENCE OR OTHER MAJOR INCIVILITY CAN TAKE PLACE.

COMMUNICATION WILL BE BY SIMULTANEOUS VERBAL AND PRINTED TRANSLATION TO FACILITATE LATER REVIEW AND STUDY

Martin keyed for both audible and visual translations when he spoke to the passengers.

“You will shortly be landing in the principal city of the Surreshon,” he said, “and for the first time you will be meeting Citizens of a completely alien species. If you have questions, or require information or assistance of any kind, you have only to request it:”

The background conversation continued unabated, but one of the Keidi turned and directed its speaking horn toward Martin to show that its words were for him alone.

“We do not request it, non-Citizen,” the being said loudly as its sound focus narrowed onto Martin’s head. “Both the Surreshon and the Keidi have studied each other’s physiologies and behavior patterns in detail, and contact is desired by both our groups. We are civilized beings, technologically and philosophically advanced, and, for several generations, Federation Citizens. We are grateful for your offer but feel that your presence here is redundant.”

“Big-head,” Beth said softly, bypassing the translator. Martin smiled, then closed his fist and pointed at the Keidi with a stiffly outstretched arm.

“My orders are to make my experience available to you…” he began.

“Federation Citizens,” the other broke in, “do not take orders. We accede to requests if they seem reasonable and in the best interests of ourselves and other Citizens. We most certainly do not obey beings who are non-Citizens, regardless of the orders which they, themselves, must obey.”

A species who did not exchange personal information except in circumstances of intimacy, and who communicated with other individuals by pointing and focusing their speaking horns rather than calling them by name, would not be the kind of people to make friends easily. He hoped their behavior toward the Surreshon was better than that shown during the few conversations with their Earth-human crew.

Martin brought up his other arm and pointed both fists briefly at the Keidi, then swung them apart at shoulder level to indicate that his words were for everyone and not just the speaker, and tried again.

“There is no problem,” he said, “My orders are to give you advice and assistance when necessary, and I shall obey these orders. You will receive this advice but, as Citizens, you are not obliged to take it.”

“There are overtones of irritation in your communication,” the Keidi said. “This stems, I suspect, from the widely prevalent attitude of public servants who feel and act like the masters of those they are supposed to serve.”

“Ouch,” Beth commented.

Martin reddened, but a change in Earth-human facial coloration was unlikely to mean anything to the Keidi. Controlling his temper, he said, “May I make an observation, then, rather than give advice which might be misconstrued as instructions? The people who make up your contact group are probably the most advanced, intellectually adventurous, and forward-thinking members of your species. This is proven by the fact that you have arranged and are about to make contact with a culture which is completely alien to your own, and you intend to deepen this contact in the expectation that both species will benefit. This expectation is reasonable, but the wide-ranging cultural exchange which you envisage may not be as easy and rapid as you expect. Unless you are very lucky indeed, it might not be completed until several of your generations have passed.