“Temperature, 93 at 0900; wind gentle, southerly—”
He went on at considerable length, as he did each morning. Finishing off the required details, he gathered up the sheaf of specialty-reports that had been left at his door the night before, and began to read abstracts into the log; the autotype clattered merrily, and a machine somewhere in the basement of the towering E-T Affairs Building in Rio de Janeiro was reproducing his words as the subradio hookup transmitted them.
It was dull work. Devall often wondered whether he might have been ultimately happier doing simple anthropological field work, as he had once done, instead of taking on the onerous burden of routine that an administrative post entailed. But someone has to shoulder the burden, he thought.
Earthman’s burden. We’re the most advanced race; ive help the others. But no one twists our arms to come out to these worlds and share what we have. Call it an inner compulsion.
He intended to work until noon; in the afternoon a Markin high priest was coming to the enclave to see him, and the interview would probably take almost till sundown. But about 1100 he was interrupted suddenly by the sound of jeeps unexpectedly entering the compound, and he heard the clamor of voices—both Terran voices and alien ones.
A fearful argument seemed to be in progress, but the group was too far away and Devall’s knowledge of Markin too uncertain for him to be able to tell what was causing the rumpus. In some annoyance he snapped off the autotype, rose from his chair, and peered through the window into the yard.
Two jeeps had drawn up—the botanical crew, gone less than two hours. Four natives surrounded the three Earthmen. Two of the natives clutched barbed spears; a third was a woman, the fourth an old man. They were all protesting hotly over something.
Devall scowled; from the pale, tense, unhappy faces of the men in the jeep, he could tell something was very wrong. That blood-red sunset had foretold accurately, he thought, as he dashed down the steps from his study.
Seven pairs of eyes focussed on him as he strode toward the group; eight glittering alien eyes, warmly golden, and six shifting, uneasy Terran eyes.
“What’s going on out here?” Devall demanded.
The aliens set up an immediate babble of noise, chattering away like a quartet of squirrels. Devall had never seen any of them behaving this way before.
“Quiet!” he roared.
In the silence that followed he said very softly, “Lieutenant Leonards, can you tell me exactly what all this fuss is about?”
The boy looked very frightened; his jaws were stiffly clenched, his lips bloodless, “Y-yes, sir,” he said stammeringly. “Begging your pardon, sir. I seem to have killed an alien.”
In the relative privacy of his office, Devall faced them all again—Leonards, sitting very quietly staring at his gleaming boots; Meyer and Rodriguez, who had accompanied him on the ill-starred botanizing journey. The aliens were outside; there would be time to calm them down later.
“Okay,” Devall said. “Leonards, I want you to repeat the story, exactly as you just told it to me, and I’ll get it down on the autotype. Start talking when I point to you.”
He switched on the autotype and said, “Testimony of Second Lieutenant Paul Leonards, Botanist, delivered in presence of commanding officer on 4 April 2705.” He jabbed a forefinger at Leonards.
The boy’s face looked waxy, beads of sweat dotted his pale vein-traced forehead, and his blond hair was tangled and twisted. He clamped his lips together in an agonized grimace, scratched the back of one hand, and finally said, “Well, we left the enclave about 0900 this morning, bound south and westerly on a tour of the outlying regions. Our purpose was to collect botanical specimens. I— was in charge of the group, which also included Sergeants Meyer and Rodriguez.”
He paused. “We—we accomplished little in the first half-hour; this immediate area had already been thoroughly covered by us anyway. But about 0945 Meyer noticed a heavily wooded area not far to the left of the main road, and called it to my attention. I suggested we stop and investigate. It was impossible to penetrate the wooded area in our jeeps, so we proceeded on foot. I left Rodriguez to keep watch over our gear while we were gone.
“We made our way through a close-packed stand of deciduous angiosperm trees of a species we had already studied, and found ourselves in a secluded area of natural growth, including several species which we could see were previously uncatalogued. We found one in particular—a shrub consisting of a single thick succulent green stalk perhaps four feet high, topped by a huge gold and green composite flower head. We filmed it in detail, took scent samples, pollen prints, and removed several leaves.”
Devall broke in suddenly. “You didn’t pick the flower itself? Devall speaking.”
“Of course not. It was the only specimen in the vicinity, and it’s not our practice to destroy single specimens for the sake of collecting. But I did remove several leaves from the stalk. And the moment I did that, a native sprang at me from behind a thick clump of ferns.
“He was armed with one of those notched spears. Meyer saw him first and yelled, and I jumped back just as the alien came charging forward with his spear. I managed to deflect the spear with the outside of my arm and was not hurt. The alien fell back a few feet and shouted something at me in his language, which I don’t understand too well as yet. Then he raised his spear and menaced me with it. I was carrying the standard-issue radial blaster. I drew it and ordered him in his own language to lower his spear, that we meant no harm. He ignored me and charged a second time. I fired in self-defense, trying to destroy the spear or at worst wound his arm, but he spun round to take the full force of the charge, and died instantly.” Leonards shrugged. “That’s about it, sir. We came back here instantly.”
“Umm. Devall speaking. Sergeant Meyer, would you say this account is substantially true?”
Meyer was a thin-faced dark-haired man who was usually smiling, but he wasn’t smiling now. “This is Sergeant Meyer. I’d say that Lieutenant Leonards told the story substantially as it occurred. Except that the alien didn’t seem overly fierce despite his actions, in my opinion. I myself thought he was bluffing both times he charged, and I was a little surprised when Lieutenant Leonards shot him. That’s all, sir.”
Frowning, the colonel said, “Devall speaking. This has been testimony in the matter of the alien killed today by Lieutenant Leonards.” He snapped off the autotype, stood up, and leaned forward across the desk, staring sternly at the trio of young botanists facing him. These next jew days are going to be my test, he thought tensely.
“Sergeant Rodriguez, since you weren’t present at the actual incident I’ll consider you relieved of all responsibility in this matter, and your testimony won’t be required. Report to Major Dudley for re-assignment for the remainder of the week.”
“Thank you, sir.” Rodriguez saluted, grinned gratefully, and was gone.
“As for you two, though,” Devall said heavily, “you’ll both have to be confined to base pending the outcome of the affair. I don’t need to tell you how serious this can be, whether the killing was in self-defense or not. Plenty of peoples don’t understand the concept of self-defense.” He moistened his suddenly dry lips. “I don’t anticipate too many complications growing out of this. But these are alien people on an alien world,, and their behavior is never certain.”
He glanced at Leonards. “Lieutenant, I’ll have to ask for your own safety that you remain in your quarters until further notice.”