"Kind of like a penguin, I'd say, but with a broader face. No bill to speak of—"
"Then don't speak of it," snapped Lamoureux. "Did you score a hit?"
"I think the explosion caught it in the shoulder. It got away."
"Thank God for small favors," said Lamoureux. "That bird, you pigeon-brain, was a Mercurian. How do you expect intelligent inhabitants of other planets to look? Like you? They'd die of mortification."
"Damn it, how was I to know?"
"I told you not to shoot unless you were attacked." Lamoureux scowled. "Kalinoff is somewhere in the Twilight Zone and we were supposed to find him with the help of the Mercurians. It may interest you to know that, while you were out at target practice, some of them came around here and began to behave as if they wanted to be friendly. Then they suddenly disappeared. I imagine they got news of what you had done. A fat lot of help they'll give us now."
"We'll run across Kalinoff without them," said McCracken confidently.
Carvalho, who had a habit of looking for the dark side of every situation, and finding it, suggested, "Suppose the Mercurians attack us?"
McCracken said, "They haven't any weapons."
"How do you know?"