"Foster, Alan Dean - With Friends Like These... - uc" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

Somewhere in the tall growthsЧwhich they later learned were called treesЧa brook of liquid H2O made gurgling sounds. Overhead, orinthorphs circled lazily in the not unpleasant heat of morning. Phrnnx was meditating on how drastically the Shield might have affected the climate of this world when he became aware of Alo and Zinin strolling up behind him.
"A peaceful world, certainly," said Zinin. "Rather light on the oxygen and argon, and all that nitrogen gives it a bit of odor, but on the whole a most pleasant ball of dirt."
"Humph! From one who burns almost as much fuel as the ship I wouldn't have expected compliments," grumbled Alo. "Still, I'll grant you, 'tis a quiet locale we've chosen to search out allies. I wonder if such a world did indeed spawn such a warlike race, or were they perhaps immigrants from elsewhere?"
"They weren't, and it didn't," interposed the Professor. He had relinquished the high place to the commander and his military advisers, as then1 conversation had bored him.
"Mind explaining that a mite, Professor?" asked Alo.
The Professor bent suddenly and dug gently in the soft earth with a claw. He came up with a small wig-
WITH FRIENDS LIKE THESE . ..
gling thing. This he proceeded to pop into his mouth and chew with vigor.
"Hmmm. A bit bitter, but intriguing. I believe .there is at least one basis for trade here."
"Be intriguing if it poisons you," said Phrnnx with some relish.
The Professor moved his antennae in a gesture indicative of negativity, with one degree of mild reproach. "Nope. Sorry to disappoint you, youngster, but Bio has already pronounced most of the organics on this planet nontoxic. Watch out for the vegetation, though. Full of acids and things. As to your question, Alo. When the Terrans ..."
"Speaking of Terrans," put hi Zinin, "I'd like to see one of these mythical creatures. I don't recall seeing any cities on our descent."
"Neither did Survey. Oh, don't look so smug. Navigator. Survey reports their presenceЧTerrans, not citiesЧbut they estimate no more than a hundred million of them on the planet. The only signs of any really large clusterings are vague outlines that could be the sites of ancient ruins. Might have expected something of the sort. People change in a few Ipas, you know."
"My question," prompted Alo once more.
"Well, when the Terrans went out into extrasolar space and began setting up their own empire, the Veen decided at first to leave them alone. Not only was there no precedent for a space-faring race not accepting citizenship hi the empire, but the Terrans weren't bothering anyone. They were also willing to sign all kinds of trade agreements and such. Anything of a nonrestrictive and nonmilitary nature."
"Why'd the Veen change their minds, then?" asked the now interested Phrnnx.
"Some bright lad in the Veen government made a few computer readings, extrapolating from what was known of Terran scientific developments, rate of expansion, galactic acclimatization, and so on."
"And the result?"
"According to the machinesЧand the Veen had
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With Friends Like These . . .
good onesЧin only one hundred Ipas the Veen would have to start becoming acclimatized to Terra."
Zinin was the only one of the three listeners who expressed his reaction audibly. Surprisingly, it was by means of a long, drawn-out whistle.
"Yes, that's about how the Veen took it. So they decided to cut the Terrans down to where they would no longer be even an indirect threat."
"Seems they did," said Alo, gazing up at the gold-flecked Shield sky.
The Professor spared a glance the same way. "Yes, it would seem so." He stared off in the direction of the commander's post where a force-lift was depositing a ground car. "But it's enlightening to keep one other little thing in mind."
"Which is?" said Alo belligerently.
"There are no more Veen."
Survey had detected what appeared to be a small dip between the foothills. It was, therefore, decided that a party consisting of Commander Rappan, Navigator Zinin, Communicator Phrnnx, a philologist, a xenologist, and, of course, the Professor would take a ground car down to the structure and attempt a First Contact. Despite vigorous protests, Commander Second Alo was restricted to acting captain.
"Give the crew land leave," instructed Rappan. "Shifts of the usual six. Maintain a semialert guard at all times until further-notice. I know this place looks about as dangerous as a mufti-bug after stuffing, but I intend to take no chances. At first sign of hostilities, raise ship and get out. That is a first-degree order. You have others on board who can operate the remote Shield equipment. In the event that all is not what it seems, I don't want to leave these creatures a way out."
"Noted and integrated, sir," replied Alo stiffly. And then in a lower voice, "Watch yourself, sir. This place smells funny to me, and I am not referring to the nitro in the atmosphere, either!"
WITH FRIENDS LIKE THESE .,.
Rappan essayed a third-level smile, with two degrees of mild affection, nonsexual. "You've said that now on ... let's see, thirty-nine planet-falls to date. But rest assured I will take no chances. We know too little of this place, the Professor included."
"Anyway, legends are notoriously nonfactual."
The little car hummed softly to itself as it buzzed over the dark soil. A cleared path is unmistakable on any planet, and this one ran straight as an Opsith through the fields of low, irrigated plants. Phrnnx had wondered idly what they were, and if they would appeal to his palate. The Professor had replied by reminding him. of Bio's warning about plant acids and added that stealing the native's food would be a poor way to open friendly negotiations. Phrnnx discarded the notion. Besides, the vegetation of this area appeared to be disgustingly heavy in cellulose contentЧdoubtless bland hi flavor, if any. And there had been no sign of domesticated food animals. Was it possible these people existed solely on wood fibers? It was a discouraging thought.
He had no chance to elaborate on it, for as the car rounded the turn they had come to, they were confronted by the sight of their first native. The car slowed and settled to the earth with a faint sigh.
In the nearby field a shortish biped was walking smoothly behind a large brown quadruped. Together they were engaged in driving a wedge of some bright metal through the soft soil, turning it over on itself in big loamy chunks. The name of this particular biped happened to be Jones, Alexis. The name of the quadruped was Dobbin, period.
The two natives apparently caught sight of the visitors. Both paused in their work to stare solemnly at the outlandish collection of aliens in the groundcar. The aliens, pop-eyed, stared back. The biped wore some kind of animal-skin shirt. This was partly hidden by some form of artificial fabric coveralls and boots. Seeing this, it occurred to Phrnnx that they must have
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With Friends Like These . . .
some kind of manufacturing facilities somewhere. The quadruped wore only a harness, again artificial, which was attached to the metal wedge. It soon grew bored in its survey of the aliens and dropped its head to crop patiently at the few sparse bits of grass that had so far managed to avoid the plow.
Commander Rappan's instinctive reaction to this first move was to reach for his pistol. He was momentarily abashed to find it missing from its customary place in his shell. The Professor had insisted that contact was to be open and trusting from the first. Consequently, all weapons had been left back on the ship. The Professor had also looked longingly at the bristling gunports of the Tpin, but the commander and his advisers had adamantly refused to leave the ship unprotected. The Professor had patiently explained that if the Terrans were going to be any real help against the Yops, then the guns of the Tpin would hardly be effective against them. And if they weren't going to be, then the guns weren't needed. As might be expected, this argument went far over the heads of the soldiers.
But Rappan still felt naked, somehow.
The native made no threatening gestures. In fact, he made no gestures at all, but instead continued to stare placidly at the petrified load of explorers. After several minutes of this, Rappan decided it was time things got moving. Besides, the native's unbroken stare was beginning to make him feel a bit fidgety, not to mention silly.
"You, philologist! Can you talk to that thing?" Commander Rappan asked.
The philologist, a meter-tall being from a Ko star near Cen-Cluster, essayed a nervous reply. "It remains to be seen, sir. We have no records of their speech patterns, and there were few broadcasts to monitor the computers to as we descended." His voice was faintly disapproving. "I am not even sure which of the two creatures is the dominant form."
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WITH FRIENDS LUCE THESE . ..
"The large one in the lead, certainly," said the xenologist.
"I believe the Terrans are described in the legends, when not as hundred-/oomp-high fire-breathing monsters, as bipeds," said the Professor quietly. "Although it also has four limbs, two are obviously manipulative. I suggest that one."