The alien monsters stayed close to their ships, coming out only when Hum was there.
Twenty-four days after the arrival of the nonhumans, Hum announced that he could communicate with them, after a fashion.
“They say they come from far away,” Hum told the village that evening. “They say that they are bisexual, like us, and that they are humans, like us. They say there are reasons for their different appearance, but I couldn’t understand that part of it.”
“If we accept them as humans,” Mishill said, “then everything they say is true.”
The rest of the villagers shook in agreement.
“They say that they don’t want to disturb our life, but would be very interested in observing it. They want to come to the village and look around.”
“I see no reason why not,” one of the younger men said.
“No!” Cordovir shouted. “You are letting in evil. These monsters are insidious. I believe that they are capable of—telling an untruth!” The other elders agreed, but when pressed, Cordovir had no proof to back up this vicious accusation.
“After all,” Sil pointed out, “just because they look like monsters, you can’t take it for granted that they think like monsters as well.”
“I can,” Cordovir said, but he was outvoted.
Hum went on. “They have offered me—or us, I’m not sure which—various metal objects which they say will do various things. I ignored this breach of etiquette, since I considered they didn’t know any better.”
Cordovir nodded. The youngster was growing up. He was showing, at long last, that he had some manners.
“They want to come to the village tomorrow.”
“No!” Cordovir shouted, but the vote was against him.
“Oh, by the way,” Hum said, as the meeting was breaking up. “They have several females among them. The ones with very red mouths are females. It will be interesting to see how the males kill them. Tomorrow is the twenty-fifth day since they came.”
The next day the things came to the village, crawling slowly and laboriously over the cliffs. The villagers were able to observe the extreme brittleness of their limbs, the terrible awkwardness of their motions.
“No beauty whatsoever,” Cordovir muttered. “And they all look alike.”
In the village the things acted without any decency. They crawled into huts and out of huts. They jabbered at the surplus female pen. They picked up eggs and examined them. They peered at the villagers through black things and shiny things.
In midafternoon, Rantan, an elder, decided it was about time he killed his woman. So he pushed the thing who was examining his hut aside and smashed his female to death.
Instantly, two of the things started jabbering at each other, hurrying out of the hut.
One had the red mouth of a female.
“He must have remembered it was time to kill his own woman,” Hum observed. The villagers waited, but nothing happened.
“Perhaps,” Rantan said, “perhaps he would like someone to kill her for him. It might be the custom of their land.”
Without further ado Rantan slashed down the female with his tail.
The male creature made a terrible noise and pointed a metal stick at Rantan. Rantan collapsed, dead.
“That’s odd,” Mishill said. “I wonder if that denotes disapproval?”
The things from the metal object—eight of them—were in a tight little circle. One was holding the dead female, and the rest were pointing the metal sticks on all sides. Hum went up and asked them what was wrong.
“I don’t understand,” Hum said, after he spoke with them. “They used words I haven’t learned. But I gather that their emotion is one of reproach.”
The monsters were backing away. Another villager, deciding it was about time, killed his wife who was standing in a doorway. The group of monsters stopped and jabbered at each other. Then they motioned to Hum.
Hum’s body motion was incredulous after he had talked with them.
“If I understood right,” Hum said, “they are ordering us not to kill any more of our women!”
“What!” Cordovir and a dozen others shouted.
“I’ll ask them again.” Hum went back into conference with the monsters who were waving metal sticks in their tentacles.
“That’s right,” Hum said. Without further preamble he flipped his tail, throwing one of the monsters across the village square. Immediately the others began to point their sticks while retreating rapidly.
After they were gone, the villagers found that seventeen males were dead. Hum, for some reason, had been missed.
“Now will you believe me!” Cordovir shouted. “The creatures told a deliberate untruth! They said they wouldn’t molest us and then they proceed to kill seventeen of us! Not only an amoral act—but a concerted death effort!”
It was almost past human understanding.
“A deliberate untruth!” Cordovir shouted the blasphemy, sick with loathing. Men rarely discussed the possibility of anyone telling an untruth.
The villagers were beside themselves with anger and revulsion, once they realized the full concept of an untruthful creature. And, added to that was the monsters’ concerted death effort!
It was like the most horrible nightmare come true. Suddenly it became apparent that these creatures didn’t kill females. Undoubtedly they allowed them to spawn unhampered. The thought of that was enough to make a strong man retch.
The surplus females broke out of their pens and, joined by the wives, demanded to know what was happening. When they were told, they were twice as indignant as the men, such being the nature of women.
“Kill them!” the surplus females roared. “Don’t let them change our ways. Don’t let them introduce immorality!”
“It’s true,” Hum said sadly. “I should have guessed it.”
“They must be killed at once!” a female shouted. Being surplus, she had no name at present, but she made up for that in blazing personality.
“We women desire only to live moral, decent lives, hatching eggs in the pen until our time of marriage comes. And then twenty-five ecstatic days! How could we desire more? These monsters will destroy our way of life. They will make us as terrible as they!”
“Now do you understand?” Cordovir screamed at the men. “I warned you, I presented it to you, and you ignored me! Young men must listen to old men in time of crisis!” In his rage he killed two youngsters with a blow of his tail. The villagers applauded.
“Drive them out,” Cordovir shouted. “Before they corrupt us!”
All the females rushed off to kill the monsters.
“They have death-sticks,” Hum observed. “Do the females know?”
“I don’t believe so,” Cordovir said. He was completely calm now. “You’d better go and tell them.”
“I’m tired,” Hum said sulkily. “I’ve been translating. Why don’t you go?”
“Oh, let’s both go,” Cordovir said, bored with the youngster’s adolescent moodiness. Accompanied by half the villagers they hurried off after the females.
They overtook them on the edge of the cliff that overlooked the object. Hum explained the death-sticks while Cordovir considered the problem.
“Roll stones on them,” he told the females. “Perhaps you can break the metal of the object.”
The females started rolling stones down the cliffs with great energy. Some bounced off the metal of the object. Immediately, lines of red fire came from the object and females were killed. The ground shook.
“Let’s move back,” Cordovir said. “The females have it well in hand, and this shaky ground makes me giddy.”
Together with the rest of the males they moved to a safe distance and watched the action.
Women were dying right and left, but they were reinforced by women of other villages who had heard of the menace. They were fighting for their homes now, their rights, and they were fiercer than a man could ever be. The object was throwing fire all over the cliff, but the fire helped dislodge more stones which rained down on the thing. Finally, big fires came out of one end of the metal object.