“They are dead—Wait, I see that word means more to you than I thought at first. They are dormant, temporarily uninhabitable and in need of repairs, inside the fused hull of a spaceship which was warped into this space too near a planet. This planet. That’s what wrecked us.”
“Where? You mean there’s really a spaceship near here? Where?” Elmo’s eyes were almost popping from his head as he questioned the dog.
“That is none of your business, Earthman. If it were found and examined by you creatures, you would possibly discover space travel before you are ready for it. The cosmic scheme would be upset.” He growled. “There are enough cosmic wars now. We were fleeing a Betelgeuse fleet when we warped into your space.”
“Elmo,” said Dorothy, “What’s beetle juice got to do with it? Wasn’t this crazy enough before he started talking about a beetle juice fleet?”
“No,” said Elmo resignedly. “It wasn’t.” For a squirrel had just pushed its way through a hole in the bottom of the screen door.
It said, “Hyah dar, yo-all. We-uns got yo message, One.”
“See what I mean?” said Elmo.
“Everything is all right, Four,” said the Doberman. “These people will serve our purpose admirably. Meet Elmo Scott and Dorothy Scott; don’t call her Toots.”
“Yessir. Yessum. Ah’s sho gladda meetcha.”
The Doberman’s mouth lolled open again in another laugh; it was unmistakable this time.
“Perhaps I’d better explain Four’s accent,” he said. “We scattered, each entering a creature of low mentality and from that vantage point contacting the mind of some member of the ruling species, learning from that mind the language and the level of intelligence and degree of imagination. I take it from your reaction that Four has learned the language from a mind which speaks a language differing slightly from yours.”
“Ah sho did,” said the squirrel.
Elmo shuddered slightly. “Not that I’m suggesting it, but I’m curious to know why you didn’t take over the higher species directly,” he said.
The dog looked shocked. It was the first time Elmo had ever seen a dog look shocked, but the Doberman managed it.
“It would be unthinkable,” he declared. “The cosmic ethic forbids the taking over of any creature of an intelligence over the four level. We Andromedans are of the twenty-three level, and I find you Earthlings—”
“Wait!” said Elmo. “Don’t tell me. It might give me an inferiority complex. Or would it?”
“Ah fears it might,” said the squirrel.
The Doberman said, “So you can see that it is not purely coincidence that we Bems should manifest ourselves to you who are a writer of what I see you call science-fiction. We studied many minds and yours was the first one we found capable of accepting the premise of visitors from Andromeda. Had Four here, for example, tried to explain things to the woman whose mind he studied, she would probably have gone insane.”
“She sho would,” said the squirrel.
A chicken thrust its head through the hole in the screen, clucked, and pulled its head out again.
“Please let Three in,” said the Doberman. “I fear that you will not be able to communicate directly with Three. He has found that subjectively to modify the throat structure of the creature he inhabits in order to enable it to talk would be a quite involved process. It does not matter. He can communicate telepathically with one of us, and we can relay his comments to you. At the moment he sends you his greetings and asks that you open the door.”
The clucking of the chicken (it was a big black hen, Elmo saw) sounded angry and Elmo said, “Better open the door, Toots.”
Dorothy Scott got off his lap and opened the door. She turned a dismayed face to Elmo and then to the Doberman.
“There’s a cow coming down the road,” she said. “Do you mean to tell me that she—”
“He,” the Doberman corrected her. “Yes, that will be Two. And since your language is completely inadequate, in that it has only two genders, you may as well call all of us ‘he’; it will save trouble. Of course, we are five different sexes, as I explained.”
“You didn’t explain,” said Elmo, looking interested.
Dorothy glowered at Elmo. “He’d better not. Five different sexes! All living together in one spaceship. I suppose it takes all five of you to—uh—”
“Exactly,” said the Doberman. “And now if you will please open the door for Two, I’m sure that—”
“I will not! Have a cow in here? Do you think I’m crazy?”
“We could make you so,” said the dog. Elmo looked from the dog to his wife.
“You’d better open the door, Dorothy,” he advised.
“Excellent advice,” said the Doberman. “We are not, incidentally, going to impose on your hospitality, nor will we ask you to do anything unreasonable.” Dorothy opened the screen door and the cow clumped in.
He looked at Elmo and said, “Hi, Mac. What’s cookin’?”
Elmo closed his eyes.
The Doberman asked the cow, “Where’s Five? Have you been in touch with him?”
“Yeah,” said the cow. “He’s comin’. The guy I looked over was a bindlestiff, One. What are these mugs?”
“The one with the pants is a writer,” said the dog. “The one with the skirt is his wife.”
“What’s a wife?” asked the cow. He looked at Dorothy and leered. “I like skirts better,” he said. “Hiya, Babe.”
Elmo got up out of his chair, glaring at the cow. “Listen, you—” That was as far as he got. He dissolved into laughter, almost hysterical laughter, and sank down into the chair again.
Dorothy looked at him indignantly. “Elmo! Are you going to let a cow—” She almost strangled on the word as she caught Elmo’s eye, and she, too, started laughing. She fell into Elmo’s lap so hard that he grunted.
The Doberman was laughing, too, his long pink tongue lolling out. “I’m glad you people have a sense of humor,” he said with approval. “In fact, that is one reason we chose you. But let us be serious a moment.”
There wasn’t any laughter in his voice now. He said, “Neither of you will be harmed, but you will be watched. Do not go near the phone or leave the house while we are here. Is that understood?”
“How long are you going to be here?” Elmo asked. “We have food for only a few days.”
“That will be long enough. We will be able to make a new spaceship within a matter of hours. I see that that amazes you; I shall explain that we can work in a slower dimension.”
“I see,” said Elmo.
“What is he talking about, Elmo?” Dorothy demanded.
“A slower dimension,” said Elmo. “I used it in a story once myself. You go into another dimension where the time rate is different; spend a month there and come back and you get back only a few minutes or hours after you left, by time in your own dimension.”
“And you invented it? Elmo, how wonderful!”
Elmo grinned at the Doberman. He said, “That’s all you want—to let you stay here until you get your new ship built? And to let you alone and not notify anybody that you’re here?”
“Exactly.” The dog appeared to beam with delight. “And we will not inconvenience you unnecessarily. But you will be guarded. Five or I will do that.”
“Five? Where is he?”
“Don’t be alarmed; he is under your chair at the moment, but he will not harm you. You didn’t see him come in a moment ago through the hole in the screen. Five, meet Elmo and Dorothy Scott. Don’t call her Toots.”
There was a rattle under the chair. Dorothy screamed and pulled her feet up into Elmo’s lap. Elmo tried to put his there too, with confusing results.
There was hissing laughter from under the chair. A sibilant voice said, “Don’t worry, folks. I didn’t know until I read in your minds just now that shaking my tail like that was a warning that I was about to—Think of the word for me—thank you. To strike.” A five-foot-long rattlesnake crawled out from under the chair and curled up beside the Doberman.