LITMIR.BIZ

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Universal accent; the Zenians are exceeded by none in linguistic ability, which was a real accomplishment before these decadent days when native languages are slipping so rapidly into obscurity.

      “And now,” said Inverness crisply, when the introductions were over, “I presume you’ll wish to know something about our destination and the objects of this expedition, sir?”

      “It would be helpful in charting our course,” I admitted, smiling.

      Inverness, with beautiful disregard for the necessities of space navigation, spread voluminous papers over the table whose surface was formed by the pair of three-dimensional charts which were the Ertak’s eyes in outer space.

      “Our destination,” he said, “is a body designated on the charts as FX-31. You are familiar with it, Commander Hanson?”

      “Hardly familiar,” I admitted, smiling at Correy. “The universe is rather sizable, and even the named bodies are so numerous that one is able to be familiar with but an exceedingly small percentage. Its designation, of course, gives me certain information regarding its size, location and status, however.”

      “How much information, Commander?” asked Tipene nervously.

      “Well, ‘F’ indicates that it is large; larger than Earth, for example. The numerals tells me where to locate it upon our space charts. And the ‘X’ would indicate that it is inhabited, but not by intelligent beings. Or that there is reasonable doubt as to the nature of those inhabiting it.”

      “A very good summary of the knowledge we have,” nodded Inverness approvingly. “I can add but one bit of information which may or may not be accurate: that the sphere known as FX-31 is populated by a ruling class decidedly unusual in type, and possessed of a degree of intelligence which has made them virtual masters of the sphere.”

      “What are they like?” asked Correy. “Will they put up a fight? Are they dangerous?”

      “Our knowledge came from a luckless tramp liner which set down on FX-31 in search of water, their water-producing equipment having been damaged by carelessness. They found water, a great river of it, and sent a party of five men to determine its fitness for human consumption. They were snapped up before they had gone a hundred feet from the ship—and no more men were sent out. They hovered over the stream and drew up the water in containers devised for the purpose.”

      “Snapped up?” asked Correy impatiently. “By whom? Or what?”

      “By spiders!” replied Inverness, his eyes shining with the fanatical gleam of a scientist who scents something strange. “Great spiders—perhaps not true spiders, but akin to them, from the descriptions we have—of what is known on Earth as the trap-door variety, but possessed of a high degree of intelligence, the power of communication, and definitely organized.”

      “Organized,” put in Tipene, “in the sense that they work together instead of individually; that there are those to command and those to obey.”

      “You say they are large,” I commented. “How large?”

      “Large enough,” said Inverness grimly, “to enable one of them to instantly overpower a strong man.”

      I saw Correy glance forward, where our largest disintegrator-ray tubes were located, and his eyes lit up with the thought of battle.

      “If there’s anything I hate,” he gritted, “it’s a spider. The hairy, crawling beasts! I’ll man one of the tubes myself, just for the fun of seeing them dissolve into nice brown dust, and—”

      “I’m afraid not, Mr. Correy,” said Inverness, shaking his head. “We’re going to study them—not to exterminate them. Our object is to learn their history, their customs, their mode of communication, and their degree of intelligence—if possible.”

      “Yes,” grunted Brady. “If possible.”

      Kincaide set the Ertak down on FX-31, close to the shore of a river, as gently as a feather settling to earth. Correy and I made our way to the exit port, where Inverness and his companions had gathered, with a considerable amount of scientific apparatus, and what seemed to be a boat, ingeniously taken down for shipment.

      All three of the scientists were clad in suits of some gray material, flexible as cloth, but possessed of a certain metallic sheen, which completely covered them. The material had been stiffened to form a sort of helmet, with a broad band of transparent material set in at the eye level, so that the wearer could see to both sides, as well as to the front. I could also discern the outlines of menores—the crude and cumbersome type of thought-transference instrument used in that day—apparently built into the helmets. Belted around their middles were atomic pistols of the latest and most deadly model.

      “For emergency use only, Commander,” explained Inverness, observing my glance. His voice came quite clearly through the fabric which covered his face, so I gathered it was sufficiently porous to admit air for breathing. “This garment we wear will be sufficient protection, we believe; their mandibles are the weapons of the creatures we are to study, and this fabric should be ample protection against much more deadly weapons.

      “Now, we shall walk to the shore of the river; if we are not molested—and I believe we shall not be, here, because the infiltration of water would quickly fill any passage sunk into this sandy earth so close to the river—please have your men bring our supplies to us, the boat first.”

      I nodded, and the three men walked through the open port, out across the gleaming, golden sand, to the water’s edge. A number of great scarlet birds, with long, fiercely taloned legs, swooped about them curiously, croaking hoarsely and snapping their hawkish beaks, but offering no real molestation.

      My men quickly carried their supplies to them, and before the last of the equipment had been delivered, the boat was assembled and afloat: a broad-beamed craft with hollow metal ribs, covered with some shining fabric which was unfamiliar to me. There was a small cabin forward and a small atomic engine housed back near the stern.

      I walked to the edge of the water and shook hands with Inverness and Brady; with Tipene I exchanged bows.

      “I am sorry,” said Inverness, “that I am facing you with what will, undoubtedly, be a monotonous and wearying vigil, for we shall probably be gone several weeks.” He referred, I must explain, to a period of seven Earth days, a common unit of time on Earth.

      “We’ll make the best of it,” I said, thinking of Correy, and how he would rage at such a period of inaction. “The best of luck to you!”

      “Thanks; we’ll remain no longer than necessary,” smiled Inverness, smiling, his shining eyes already fixed on the river ahead.

      “And that will be no short time,” said the taciturn Brady. “Shall we start?”

      Correy raged. I had expected that, and I was in complete sympathy with him. Routine patrol was better than being earth-fast on this barren and uninteresting ball of mud.

      “Have I your permission, sir,” asked Correy on the fourth day, “to make a little tour of inspection and exploration? We might run into some fresh meat.”

      “I’m not sure that would be wise. These spider creatures—”

      “Pardon me, sir,” interrupted Correy eagerly, “but we could take a small landing force, armed with pistols and grenades. Even a field ray tube. Certainly we could handle anything which might turn up, then.”

      “And, you rather hope that something will turn up, Mr. Correy?”

      Correy grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

      “It would break the monotony, wouldn’t it, sir? And, too, if anything should happen to them”—and he glanced up the river, in the direction taken by the three scientists—”we’d know something about what we had to contend with, wouldn’t we?”

      I’m not sure whether it was Correy’s argument or

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