AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yes, superior sir,” Gorppet answered. “Remember that Tosevite male named Drucker, who was going down to Neu Strelitz to search for his mate and hatchlings?”
Hozzanet made the affirmative gesture. “I am not likely to forget him. That trip cost us a good male and a motorcar. Cursed Deutsch bandits. Why? What about him now?”
“He has been positively identified in Neu Strelitz,” Gorppet said. “Up till now, the assumption was that he too perished in the attack, even if his body was not found.”
“Assumptions are commonly worth their weight in ginger,” Hozzanet said, which made Gorppet laugh. The other male went on, “Do you suppose he might tell you the truth about what happened if you went down to Neu Strelitz and asked him?”
“Superior sir, I do not know,” Gorppet answered. “Some of that, I suppose, will depend on what did happen and how close his ties to the bandits are. Even if he owes me certain debts, Big Uglies reckon kinship more important and friendship less so than we do.”
“I understand that,” Hozzanet said. “I ought to, on this miserable ball of mud. Go on. Do your best.”
“It shall be done,” Gorppet said-again, what other choice had he?
When he got to Neu Strelitz, he found it to be another small city that had taken considerable damage during the fighting. The Deutsche were doing their best to put things to rights again. They were energetic and hardworking, almost alarmingly so.
“There!” said the informant whose tip had got back to him-a yellow-haired Tosevite female who went by the name of Friedli. She spoke the language of the Race badly but understandably. “See you him, walking there?”
“Yes.” Gorppet found one question to ask before going after Drucker: “Why do you give him away to us?”
“He my mate threatened and betrayed,” she answered. “Now get him!”
Kinship, not friendship, Gorppet thought. He skittered down the street after Johannes Drucker. When he caught up, he said, “I greet you.”
The Deutsch male stopped and stared down at him. “Gorppet?” he said, and Gorppet used the affirmative gesture. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to ask you the same question,” Gorppet said. “How did you escape the ambush that killed Chinnoss? Have you found your mate and your hatchlings?”
Drucker hesitated before answering. In that moment of hesitation, Gorppet became convinced he wouldn’t learn anything. And he was right. The Big Ugly replied, “I am sorry, but I really cannot tell you what happened that day. I was knocked unconscious when the motorcar rolled over, so I know nothing.”
“I do not believe you,” Gorppet said bluntly.
“I am sorry,” Drucker repeated. “I was lucky not to be killed.”
“That was not luck,” Gorppet said. “You were not killed because you are not a male of the Race.”
Johannes Drucker shrugged. “I must go. Will you excuse me?”
“Suppose I arrest you instead?” Gorppet demanded, his temper kindling.
“You may try.” The Big Ugly shrugged again. “I doubt you will succeed, not here in a town without a garrison.”
He was, unfortunately, almost sure to be correct. Gorppet sent him a reproachful stare, not that any Tosevite was likely to recognize it as such. He said, “I thought we were friends, you and I.”
Drucker surprised him by using the Race’s negative hand gesture. “You and I are not enemies. That is a truth. But your folk and mine are not friends, and that is also a truth. Now I must say farewell.” He walked on down the street.
Gorppet could have gone after him. Gorppet could have raised his weapon and started shooting. Instead, with a sigh, he returned to his vehicle. No, keeping the Deutsche suppressed wouldn’t be easy, or anything close to it. As if I hadn’t known as much already, he thought bitterly.
Sam Yeager wondered why he’d been summoned to Little Rock. He hadn’t wanted to come to the capital. His wife and son hadn’t wanted him to go, either; sticking your head in the lion’s mouth was the phrase Barbara had used. But he remained an officer of the U.S. Army. Unless he wanted to resign his commission, he had to follow orders. And he didn’t want to resign it; he’d worked too hard to get where he was. Resigning would have been like admitting that everything he’d been through was something he’d somehow deserved. He was damned if he’d do that.
Don’t rub. He’d learned that code in the bush leagues. Don’t let the bastards know they hurt you. A pitcher who’d just stuck a fastball in your ribs might suspect you weren’t too happy about it. But not rubbing was all about not letting the other guys know what you were feeling, or that you were feeling anything.
And so, outwardly calm, he sat in a waiting room in the Gray House, reading a Newsweek and pretending everything was just routine. After a while, a flunky came up to him and said, “The president will see you now, Lieutenant Colonel.”
“Okay.” Yeager put down the magazine and got to his feet. The Gray House dignitary led him into the president’s office. Seeing Harold Stassen behind the big desk there was a jolt. Yeager didn’t want to show that, either. He stiffened to attention and saluted. “Reporting as ordered, sir.”
“Sit down, Lieutenant Colonel,” President Stassen said. His voice didn’t carry nearly the weight of authority Earl Warren’s had. But Warren was gone, dead and buried. The king is dead; long live the king. Stassen asked, “Would you care for coffee, or anything else?”
“No, thank you, sir,” Sam answered.
“All right.” The president looked down at what were probably notes. “I understand you and your family are responsible for raising a couple of Lizard hatchlings as though they were human beings.”
“That’s right, Mr. President.” Hope blossomed in Yeager. Maybe Stassen had called him here to talk about Mickey and Donald. They were important, no doubt about it. If he were here on account of that, maybe Warren hadn’t said anything to anybody about his role in bringing down a presidency and wiping a city off the face of the earth. Ma
ybe I’m the only one who knows the whole story, Sam thought. Christ, I hope I am.
President Stassen said, “And how are the hatchlings now?”
“They’re fine, sir,” Sam said. “They’re toddlers right now, you know: growing like weeds and learning something new every day. They talk a lot more than regular Lizard hatchlings the same age would.”
Stassen shuffled papers-notes, sure enough. “I understand the Lizards have a long head start on us in this sort of research.”
“That’s true, but there’s nothing we could do about it,” Yeager said. “They got a hatchling-uh, a human baby-right after the first round of fighting ended. We couldn’t even think of trying the same sort of experiment till the colonization fleet brought females of the Race here.”
“Of course.” The president nodded. “Now, you’ve met the girl the Lizards are raising as one of their own.” He waited for Sam to nod, too, then asked, “What do you think of her?”
“Sir, Kassquit’s… pretty screwy, I’m afraid,” Yeager answered. “I don’t know how else to put it. Considering the way she was brought up, I don’t suppose that’s any big surprise. It’s probably God’s own miracle that she’s not even crazier than she is.”
“Does that mean…” Stassen glanced down again. “Does that mean Mickey and Donald are liable to end up disturbed, too?”
“From the point of view of the Race, do you mean, sir?” Sam sighed. “I’m afraid it does. I don’t know what to do about that. I don’t think there’s anything to be done about it. I feel bad sometimes, but it’s important for us to know just how much like people they can become.” He sighed again. “Ttomalss, the Lizard who’s raised Kassquit, probably feels the same way in reverse.”
“I see.” Stassen scribbled something on a scratch pad. “To turn to another matter, how seriously do you view the spread of plants and animals from the Lizards’ home planet here on Earth?”
Did Stassen know Yeager had been seized while investigating that very thing? If he did, he didn’t show it. Sam decided to assume he didn’t, and answered, “It’s going to be a problem, yes, Mr. President. It may not be too big a problem here in the States, because I didn’t think too many creatures from Home will be able to stand the winters in most of the country. But in the tropics, especially the deserts, I’d bet there’ll be wholesale replacements. The Lizards are going to try to make Earth over to suit themselves. We’d probably do the same thing if the shoe were on the other foot.”
