Muttering to himself, he walked over to the ship and called one of the crewmen. They dragged a bag out of the ship's hold. Puffing, they laid it at my feet. I tossed it to Ztul.
"Count it," I ordered out loud, "and if there's any missing, no one leaves this planet alive." I snarled ferociously.
Everybody laughed. It was part of the act.
"You will notice," Sam announced as we led the way down the street, "that the Gchi are all about the same size. No young ones among them. We don't know whether this is because they reproduce differently from us, or because they have concealed their offspring."
"The children must be dear little creatures," the toothy female gushed. "If even the adults are cute when they're seven or eight feet tall, the little ones must be simply precious.... Tell me, Chief, do you have any children?"
"Don't understand," I grunted. "Concept unfamiliar. Not know what children is."
"Funny," remarked the scientist, "he was speaking perfectly good English before."
"Watch yourself, kid," Ppon ideated warningly to me.
"Children are ..." she began and stopped. "They're—well, how do you reproduce?"