"Could be we'll find one this time," said the Commander. "We know it's an oxygen planet, and that there are intelligent beings there, judging from the cities we can see and their use of radio."
"Maybe," grumbled Montresig, "but they won't be men. If they're not slugs they'll be talking fish or intellectual spiders, or something equally repulsive. And I can tell you one thing, whatever we find, if it has brains it will want to fight."
"Now Montresig, don't be bitter. We've only examined a couple hundred planets. There are many more and you know we'll have to take a look at as many as we can. I tell you, however, we won't take any more chances. Unless we find out they're pretty much like us we won't go near the damn planet."
"How do you propose to find that out, Your Loftiness? We can't see anything that small by telescope, we haven't learned much so far by listening to them, and it's pretty dangerous business using the dredge...."
"Ah, my dear Montresig, the crux of the matter is that we can tell about them, I believe, from listening to them. Judging from the reports I got from Communications, this is the talkingest planet in the galaxy. They are utilizing the entire radio spectrum we know and, I suspect, some portions of it we don't know. All they do is talk. There must be millions of individuals on that planet jabbering in a dozen different languages. Our language technicians have decoded two of the major tongues already and have fed the information to the main computer. All radio signals in those languages are now being fed directly to the computer and the information is being classified and cross-referenced."
Montresig's furry countenance brightened. "Then we won't have to send down the dredge?"
"I hope not, Montresig, I do not like to bring strange life forms aboard the ship. Remember planet 187 in the Dghorzid system?"
Montresig shuddered. "I'll never forget. When that monster materialized in the hold I snapped on the stasis field and it had no effect. I tried every last trick in the bag including seven kinds of poison gas. Luckily the dredge operator was able to catch him and throw him back where he came from but the hold was a shambles and two men had to have extensive repair work."
"Well," said the Commander, "I don't like the dredge at all, but I suppose it's better than landing and having to do battle with slugs. I swear I was certain there was no intelligent life on that planet. By the way, I'm having an anthropologist thawed out now, that leaves only one more in the freeze locker and we can't operate without one. Take care nothing happens to him, Montresig."
Commander Losure made the sign of dismissal and Montresig burped gracefully and withdrew. The Commander signaled communications. After a considerable delay a burp sounded from the speaker on the wall and a voice announced: "Troniff here. May I serve Your Loftiness?"