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With Friends Like These
J
With Friends Like These.
My favorite writer of science fiction was, and still is, the inimitable Eric Frank Russell. When I was turning in short stories to the magazines instead of papers to my college professors and collecting rejection slips instead of credits and grades, I often wondered why Russell had stopped writing. I miss him.
At the 1968 World Science-Fiction Convention in Oakland, Johm Campbell told me that Russell was his favorite writer, and that he too sorely bemoaned the lack of yarns Russellian. So I decided to try a Russell-flavored Terra uber attes story. Campbell liked it. He never sent acceptance lettersЧjust checks.
And man and boy, that was a change from rejection slips.
As she commenced her first approach to the Go-type sun, the light cruiser Tpin's velocity began to decrease from the impossible to the merely incredible. Her multidrive engines put forth the barely audible whine that signified slowdown, and she once more assumed
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a real mass that the normal universe could and would notice.
Visual observation at the organic level became possible as the great ship cut the orbit of the last gas giant. Those of the vessel's complement took the never dull opportunity to rush the ports for a glimpse of a new solar system; those whose functions did not include the actual maneuvering of the craft. Curiosity was a fairly universal characteristic among space-going races. The crew of the Tpin, although a grim lot, were no exception.
Within the protected confines of the fore control room of the half-kilometer-long bubble of metal and plastic, Communicator First Phrnnx shifted his vestigial wings and asked Commander First Rappan for the millionth time what-the-hell-equivalent they hoped to find.
"Phrnnx," Rappan sighed, "if you haven't been sufficiently enlightened as to the content of the legends by now, I fail to see how I can aid you. Instead of repeating yourself for the sake of hearing yourself oralize, I suggest you bend a membrane to your detection apparatus and see if you can pick up any traces of that murfled Yop battleship!"
Phrnnx riffled his eyelids in a manner indicative of mild denial, with two degrees of respectful impatience. "We lost those inept yipdips five parsecs ago, sir. I am fully capable of performing my duties without any well-intentioned suggestions from the bureaucracy. Do I tell you how to fly the ship?"
"A task," began Rappan heatedly, "so far beyond your level of comprehension that... !"
"Gentlebeings, gentlebeings, please!" said the Professor. Subordinate and commander alike quieted.
The "Professor"Чhis real title was unpronounceable to most of the crewЧwas both the guiding force and the real reason behind the whole insane expedition. It was he who rediscovered the secret of breaking the Terran Shield. He came from a modest three-system cluster nearly halfway to the RimЧfar re-
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moved from their own worlds. Due to the distance from thing's and to their own quiet, retiring nature, his folk took little part in the perpetual cataclysm of the Federation-Yop wars. What smallЧif importantЧrole they did deign to play in the conflict was not determined by choice. Rather, it was engendered by the Yop policy of regarding all those peoples, who were not allies of the Yop, as mortal enemies of the Yop. There was room in neither Yop culture, nor Yop language, for the concept of a "neutral." Yop temperament was such that their total complement of allies came to a grand total of zero. The members of the Federation had matured beyond prejudice, but it was admitted hi most quarters that the Yops were not nice people. Possibly some of this attitude stemmed from the Yop habit of eating everything organic that moved, without regard for such minor inconveniences as, say, the intelligence of the diner, or his desire to be not-eaten.
Against them was allied the total remaining strength of the organized galaxy; some two hundred and twelve federated races.
HoweverЧdue to diet, perhapsЧthere were a lot of Yops.
The avowed purpose of the expedition was to make that latter total two hundred and thirteen.
The Professor continued in a less stern tone. "H you must fight among yourselves, kindly do so at a civilized level. At least out of deference to me. I am an old being, and I possess a perhaps unreasonable allergy to loud and raucous noises."
The^others in the room immediately lowered their voices in respect. In the Federation age was a revered commodity, to be conserved as such. And there was the Professor's age. His antennae drooped noticeably, his chiton was growing more and more translucent, losing its healthy purple iridescence, and his back plates were exfoliating in thin, shallow flakes. That he had held up as well as he had on this trip, with its
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sometimes strenuous dodging of Yop warships, was in itself remarkable. He seemed to grow stronger as they neared their objective, and now his eyes, at least, glowed with a semblance of vitality.
All eyes were trained on the great mottled sphere turning slowly and majestically below them.
"Planet Three," intoned Navigator First. "Primary colors-blue, white, brown, green. Atmosphere . . ." and he dropped ofi to a low mumbling. At last, "It checks, sir."
"And the gold overlay?" asked Communicator Phrnnx, for being among the youngest of the crew, his curiosity quotient was naturally among the highest.
"That, gentlebeings, means that the'Shield is still up. After all these years I'd thought perhaps . . ." The Professor made what passed for a shrug among his people. He turned from the port to the others.
"As you all recall, I hope, the phenomenon below us, the Shield, is the direct result of the Old Empire-Terran Wars of ages ago. At that time, the inhabitants of this planet first broke free of their own system and started to come out to the stars.
"They found there a multiracial empire nominally ruled by a race known to us as the Veen. The Terrans were invited to join the empire, accruing the same rights and privileges as had historically been granted to all new space-going races for thousands and thousands of years."
"And they refused," put in Rappan. "Yes, they refused. It became quickly apparent to the Veen that the Terrans intended to carve out a little pocket empire of their own in another sector of space. Since Terra was so far away from the center of things, so to speak, the Veen decided that for the sake of peaceЧand the VeenЧthis could not be allowed to take place. Accordingly, there was a war, or rather, a series of wars. These lasted for centuries, despite the overwhelming numerical superiority of the Veen. Gradually, the Terrans were pushed back to their own home world. A standoff ensued, as the Veen and .their
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allies were unable to break the ultimate defenses of the Terrans.
"Then a great scientist of one of the allied races of the Veen discovered, quite by accident, the quasi-mathematical principle behind the Shield. The nature of the Shield forbade its use on anything smaller than a good-sized moon. It was thus useless for such obvious military applications as, for example, a ship defensive screen. Then someone got the bright idea of enveloping the entire planet of Terra in one huge Shield, making it into an impenetrable cage. At worst, it would provide the Empire with a breathing spell in which to marshal its sorely battered forces. At best it would restrict the Terrans to their own fortress until such time as the Veen saw fit to let them out. The chances of the Terrans accidentally stumbling onto the same principle was considered to be slight. As you can now see, this indeed has been the case." The Professor sighed again, a high, whistling sound.
"However, the wars with Terra had also depleted the resources of the Veen tremendously. Those races which had been allied to them only by virtue of the Veen's superior knowledge and strength saw an irresistible opportunity to supplant the Veen in the hierarchy of Empire. The result? The Time of Conflicts, which resulted in the breakdown of the Empire, the final elimination of the once-proud Veen, and after considerable bickering and fighting, the formation of our present FederationЧin a much more primitive form, of course."
He returned his gaze once again to the blue-white planet circling below, its land areas blurred in the shifting golden haze which was the by-product of the Shield. They had already locked in to the Shield station on the planet's only satellite. "Unfortunately, the Ban still remains."
Rappan broke away from his console for a moment. "Look, we've been through all that. The supposed rule states that the penalty for breaking the Shield either
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partially, or completely, is death, for all those concerned. But that murfted law is millennia old!"
"And still on the books," retorted old Alo, the Commander Second.
"I know, I know!" said Rappan, adjusting a meter. "Which is one reason why every being on this ship is a volunteer. And if I thought we had a choice I'd never have commandeered the Tpin for this trip. But you know as well as I, Alo, we have no choiceV We've been fighting the Yops now for nearly three hundred sestes, and been losing ever since we started. Oh, I know how it looks, but the signs are all there. One of these days we'll turn around for the customary reinforcements and pifft, they won't be there! That's why it's imperative we find new allies . . . even if we have to try Terra. When I was a cub, my den parents would scare us away from the Gn>un/-fruit groves by saying: 'The Terrans will get you if you don't watch out!' "
" 'Ginst the Edict," murmured Alo, not to be put off.
Navigator First Zinin broke in, in the deep bass-rumbling of this heavy-planet civilization. "There will be no Edicts, old one, if the Yops crush the Federation. We must take some risks. If the Terrans are willing to aid usЧand are still capable of itЧI do believe that GalCen will agree to some slight modification of the rules. And, if these creatures have fallen back to the point where they can be of no help to us, then they will not be a threat to us either. GalCen will not be concerned."
"And if by chance mebbe they should be a bit angry at us and decide to renew an ancient grudge?" put in the ever-pessimistic Alo.
"Then the inevitable," put in Zinin, "will only be hastened."
Philosophizing was of needs broken off. The Tpin was entering the Shield.
Green, thought Phrnnx. It is the greenest nontropi-cal planet 1 have ever seen.
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He was standing by the end of the ramp which led out from the belly of the cruiser. The rest of the First Contact party was nearby. They had landed near a great mountain range, in a lush section of foothills and gently rolling green. Tall growths of brown and emerald dominated two sides of then- view. In front of them stretched low hillocks covered with what was obviously cultivated vegetation. Behind the ship, great silver-gray mountains thrust white-haloed crowns into the sky. Had the Tpin been an air vessel, the updrafts sweeping up the sides of those crags would have given them trouble. As it was, they merely added another touch to the records the meteorologists were assembling.