SHOCK TROOP
BY RICHARD BOLTON
The invaders were going to
make galactic history. Fate
made it a comedy of errors.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of If Science Fiction, October 1956.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Zurg thwirmed, and admitted to himself that he was uneasy. Arching his thorax, he unrolled his antennae slowly in a lazy gesture he hoped would conceal the unseemly nervousness he felt now that the ship had swung into an orbit around the strange planet. When a commander briefs his officers, he must radiate confidence and calm.
"Companions, an historic moment has arrived," he began pompously, his antennae moving in the deliberate, stylized movements of the Court language. "Below us lies the verdant expanse of the third planet, green gem of the heavens."
At this, several of his subordinates turned a rather puzzled yellow around their head orifices, obviously unable to understand a gesture of what he was saying. Only the second-in-command seemed unconcerned; he knew from long experience that his commander would revert to common vernacular when he had finished the usual ceremonial preamble.
Zurg did so, noting the relieved hues of his officers as he continued: "As you all know, our scouts have reconnoitered this world on several occasions. But now the time has arrived to make an actual landing. In fact, companions, we are the vanguard of an invasion." Pausing to let this register, he was pleased to see that none of the officers seemed to be suppressing thwirms. If anything, they were calmer than he was.