Big Stupe
By CHARLES V. DE VET
Illustrated by KOSSIN
[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science FictionMarch 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that theU.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Bruckner was a man deeply imbued with a sense of his own worth. Now ashe rested his broad beam on the joined arms of Sweets and Majesky, hewinked to include them in a "this is necessary, but you and I see thehumor of the thing" understanding. Like most thoroughly disliked men, heconsidered himself quite popular with "the boys."
The conceited ham's enjoying this, Sweets thought, as he staggered downthe aisle under the big man's weight. At the ship's entrance, he glancedout across the red-sand plain to where the natives waited.
They wore little clothing, Sweets noted, except the chief. He sat on hisdais—carried on the shoulders of eight of his followers—dressed inlong streamers of multi-colored ribbons. Other ribbons, rolled into arope, formed a diadem on his head.
The only man more impressively dressed was Bruckner. He wore all theceremonial trappings of a second century Gallic king, complete withjewel-studded gold crown.
As Sweets and Majesky grunted with their burden across the ten yardsseparating the ship from the thronelike chair that had been brought outearlier, their feet kicked up a cloud of red dust that coated theirclothing and clogged their nostrils.
The dust had originally been red ferric sand. But the action of windsand storms had milled it together, grain against grain, through theages, until it had become a fine red powder that hung in the hot stillair after they had passed.
Most of Waterfield's Planet, they had discovered on their inspectionflight the day before, had been a desert for more centuries than theycould accurately estimate. Its oases, however, were large and plentifuland, as observed from the air, followed a clear-cut, regular pattern.The obvious conclusion was that they were fed by underground rivers.
The crewmen deposited their burden in the chair and stood waiting.
"Nice work, men," Bruckner muttered in an undertone. "Now keep up theact. Bow from the waist and retire discreetly to the background."
Majesky said something under his breath as they complied.
The greeting ceremony got off to a good start after that, Sweets had toadmit. Whatever else might be said of Bruckner, he knew his job as apsychologist.
Bruckner rose to his feet, raised his right hand, palm forward, andintoned gravely, "Earthmen greet you." He spoke in the language of thenatives.
The tribal chieftain raised his hand negligently in reply, but neitherrose nor spoke.
With a great display of magnanimity, Bruckner sent over a bolt of brightred cloth.
The chieftain accepted the gift and sent back a large wooden box carriedby two of his men. They lowered the box at Bruckner's feet and one ofthem opened a door in its side.
The large animal—or bird; the Earthmen couldn't be certain which—thatstepped out stood about seven feet tall, with a body shaped like abowling pin. It walked on webbed feet that angled outward, had shortflippers, set low on a body covered with coarse hair that might havebeen feathers, and was armed with long, vicious claws. There wassomething so ludicrous about its appearance that Sweets had difficultystifling the chuckle that rose in his throat.
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