Ilitch’s wife, hearing the dull thud of her husband as he hit the ground, came out to investigate. One horrified shriek later she was bolting out of the rear door of the hut, over the fence, and on to the back of Meina, the horse, who had been quietly grazing in the field behind the house. With a shout and a kick the animal clattered off, almost as frightened as its mistress.
“Barbarians, no doubt of it,” Cakna, the second navigator, slated with finality as he checked the loads in his blaster.
“All, the certainty of youth,” Druit, the chief engineer, sighed. “I’ll admit that they’re ugly as sin, but did it ever occur to you, Cakna, that as far as they’re concerned we’re no beauties either. As a matter of fact we’re not even sure who the intellects around here are—barbarians or otherwise. There’s a thing there in the doorway; another thing came out a moment ago, scrambled on top of still another thing, and beat it. Which one of the three represents the leading intelligence of the planet?”
“If any,” Drul added. “Look, Cakna, I’ll admit that this set-up looks strange, but let’s remember that this is unexplored territory. We’ve never run into anything like it before—and neither has anyone else.”
“Check,” Druit agreed. “I say sit tight for a while. If the captain and the sociologist said that this is an advanced culture, I’ll string along with their judgment.”
“O.K. by me,” Cakna shrugged as he opened the map. “I’ll play it your way, but let’s do some local checking first. According to this map, I’d say we’re a long, long way from rendezvous. If we don’t get rolling soon, we’ll never make it in time.”
“Maybe we can pick up something from that one,” Druit suggested as he waved a tentacle towards Ilitch, who was still slumped in the doorway.
“Won’t hurt trying,” Cakna said as he folded his map and slipped the safety off on his blaster.
“Tch, tch, such nerves,” Druit chided.
The three creatures approached Ilitch slowly, alert for any movement from the unconscious Russian.