Once a Greech

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  Once a Greech

  By EVELYN E. SMITH

  Illustrated by DILLON

  [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science FictionApril 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that theU.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

  [Sidenote: _The mildest of men, Iversen was capable of murder ... todisprove Harkaway's hypothesis that in the midst of life, we are inlife!_]

  Just two weeks before the _S. S. Herringbone_ of the InterstellarExploration, Examination (and Exploitation) Service was due to start herreturn journey to Earth, one of her scouts disconcertingly reported thediscovery of intelligent life in the Virago System.

  "Thirteen planets," Captain Iversen snarled, wishing there were someoneon whom he could place the blame for this mischance, "and we spend afull year here exploring each one of them with all the resources ofTerrestrial science and technology, and what happens? On the nineteenthmoon of the eleventh planet, intelligent life is discovered. And who hasto discover it? Harkaway, of all people. I thought for sure all themoons were cinders or I would never have sent him out to them just tokeep him from getting in my hair."

  "The boy's not a bad boy, sir," the first officer said. "Just a thoughtincompetent, that's all--which is to be expected if the Service willchoose its officers on the basis of written examinations. I'm glad tosee him make good."

  Iversen would have been glad to see Harkaway make good, too, only such aconcept seemed utterly beyond the bounds of possibility. From the momentthe young man had first set foot on the _S. S. Herringbone_, he hadseemed unable to make anything but bad. Even in such a conglomeration offools under Captain Iverson, his idiocy was of outstanding quality.

  The captain, however, had not been wholly beyond reproach in thisinstance, as he himself knew. Pity he had made such an error about theeleventh planet's moons. It was really such a small mistake. Moons oneto eighteen and twenty to forty-six still appeared to be cinders. It wasall too easy for the spectroscope to overlook Flimbot, the nineteenth.

  But it would be Flimbot which had turned out to be a green and pleasantplanet, very similar to Earth. Or so Harkaway reported on the intercom.

  "And the other forty-five aren't really moons at all," he began."They're--"

  "You can tell me all that when we reach Flimbot," Iversen interrupted,"which should be in about six hours. Remember, that intercom uses a lotof power and we're tight on fuel."

  But it proved to be more than six _days_ later before the ship reachedFlimbot. This was owing to certain mechanical difficulties that arosewhen the crew tried to lift the mother ship from the third planet, onwhich it was based. For sentimental reasons, the IEE(E) always tried toestablish its prime base on the third planet of a system. Anyhow, whenthe _Herringbone_ was on the point of takeoff, it was discovered thatthe rock-eating species which was the only life on the third planet hadeaten all the projecting metal parts on the ship, including therocket-exhaust tubes, the airlock handles and the chromium trim.

  "I had been wondering what made the little fellows so sick," Smullyan,the ship's doctor, said. "They went wump, wump, wump all night long,until my heart bled for them. Ah, everywhere it goes, humanity spreadsthe fell seeds of death and destruction--"

  "Are you a doctor or a veterinarian?" Iversen demanded furiously. "ByBetelgeuse, you act as if I'd crammed those blasted tubes down theirstinking little throats!"

  "It was you who invaded their paradise with your ship. It was you--"

  "Shut up!" Iversen yelled. "Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!"

  So Dr. Smullyan went off, like many a ship's physician before him, andgot good and drunk on the medical stores.

  * * * * *

  By the time they finally arrived on Flimbot, Harkaway had already gonenative. He appeared at the airlock wearing nothing but a brief, colorfulloincloth of alien fabric and a wreath of flowers in his hair. He wasfondling a large, woolly pink caterpillar.

  "Where is your uniform, sir!" Captain Iversen barked, aghast. If therewas one thing he was intolerant of in his command, it was sloppiness.

  "This is the undress uniform of the Royal Flimbotzi Navy, sir. I wasgiven the privilege of wearing one as a great _msu'gri_--honor--to ourrace. If I were to return to my own uniform, it might set backdiplomatic relations between Flimbot and Earth as much as--"

  "All right!" the captain snapped. "All right, all right, all right!"

  He didn't ask any questions about the Royal Flimbotzi Navy. He haddeduced its nature when, on nearing Flimbot, he had discovered that theeleventh planet actually had only one moon. The other forty-fivecelestial objects were spacecraft, quaint and primitive, it was true,but spacecraft nonetheless. Probably it was their orbital formation thathad made him think they were moons. Oh, the crew must be in greatspirits; they did so enjoy having a good laugh at his expense!

  He looked for something with which to reproach Harkaway, and his eyelighted on the caterpillar. "What's that thing you're carrying there?"he barked.

  Raising itself on its tail, the caterpillar barked right back at him.

  Captain Iversen paled. First he had overlooked the spacecraft, and now,after thirty years of faithful service to the IEE(E) in the lessdesirable sectors of space, he had committed the ultimate error in hisfirst contact with a new form of intelligent life!

  "Sorry, sir," he said, forgetting that the creature--whatever its mentalprowess--could hardly be expected to understand Terran yet. "I am just asimple spaceman and my ways are crude, but I mean no harm." He whirledon Harkaway. "I thought you said the natives were humanoid."

  The young officer grinned. "They are. This is just a greech. Cuddlylittle fellow, isn't he?" The greech licked Harkaway's face with atripartite blue tongue. "The Flimbotzik are mad about pets. Greatanimal-lovers. That's how I knew I could trust them right from thestart. Show me a life-form that loves animals, I always say, and--"

  "I'm not interested in what you always say," Iversen interrupted,knowing Harkaway's premise was fundamentally unsound, because he himselfwas the kindliest of all men, and he hated animals. And, although hedidn't hate Harkaway, who was not an animal, save in the strictlyDarwinian sense, he could not repress unsportsmanlike feelings ofbitterness.

  Why couldn't it have been one of the other officers who had discoveredthe Flimbotzik? Why must it be Harkaway--the most inept of his scouts,whose only talent seemed to be the egregious error, who always rushedinto a thing half-cocked, who mistook superficialities for profundities,Harkaway, the blundering fool, the blithering idiot--who had stumbledinto this greatest discovery of Iversen's career? And, of course,Harkaway's, too. Well, life was like that and always had been.

  "Have you tested those air and soil samples yet?" Iversen snarled intohis communicator, for his spacesuit was beginning to itch again as thegentle warmth of Flimbot activated certain small and opportunisticlife-forms which had emigrated from a previous system along with theTerrans.

  "We're running them through as fast as we can, sir," said a harriedvoice. "We can offer you no more than our poor best."

  "But why bother with all that?" Harkaway wanted to know. "This planet isabsolutely safe for human life. I can guarantee it personally."

  "On what basis?" Iversen asked.

  "Well, I've been here two weeks and I've survived, haven't I?"

  "That," Iversen told him, "does not prove that the planet can sustainhuman life."

  Harkaway laughed richly. "Wonderful how you can still keep thatmarvelous sense of humor, Skipper, after all the things that have beengoing wrong on the voyage. A
h, here comes the _flim'tuu_--the welcomingcommittee," he said quickly. "They were a little shy before. Because ofthe rockets, you know."

  "Don't their ships have any?"

  "They don't seem to. They're really very primitive affairs, barely ableto go from planet to planet."

  "If they _go_," Iversen said, "stands to reason _something_ must powerthem."

  "I really don't know what it is," Harkaway retorted defensively. "Afterall, even though I've been busy as a beaver, three weeks would hardlygive me time to investigate every aspect of their culture.... Don't youthink the natives are