Dryfoos

“ Dryfoos, he was less amused with this fact.
When she saw that he was a little cast down by it, she began to encourage him. “He's just a common, ignorant man, and probably didn't know how to express himself. You may be perfectly sure that he's delighted with the success of the magazine, and that he understands as well as you do that he owes it all to you.”
“Ah, I'm not so sure. I don't believe a man's any better for having made money so easily and rapidly as Dryfoos has done, and I doubt if he's any wiser. ”

“ They came in, rolling along the ground as the wind took them, and then extended their stars from some hidden place and moved on them when out of the wind.
That is, they seemed to. But whether they were in the hull or in his mind, George was by no means sure.
Nothing could live in this wind. Nothing could live on a planet with no water, where the air was full of formaldehyde ready to react with proteins, the basis of life.
He lay motionless, watching idly. There was no sound but the wind. The yellow teardrops scattered out. They could have been exploring—or seeking shelter—or nonexistent. ”

“ Behind him the cabin began to smoke.
Ted wasn't afraid, then. He understood what he faced. And Richard wasn't afraid, either, because he didn't understand.
But she? Surreptitiously Naomi pinched her hip till it felt black and blue. That was for being such a fool. She must not be afraid!
"Daddy seems to be staying there," she said. "Let's wait for him at home, Richard."
"Are you going to make Daddy burn our tree?"
She jumped as if stung. Then, consciously womanlike, she sought relief in talk.
"What do you think we should do, dear?"
"Oh, I like the tree, Mommie. It's cool under there. ”

“ Such people as the Dryfooses are the raw material of good society. It isn't made up of refined or meritorious people--professors and litterateurs, ministers and musicians, and their families. All the fashionable people there to-night were like the Dryfooses a generation or two ago. ”

“ The Agvars—furry, savage half-men, with something of the dog and something of the ape and little of the man about them—the Agvars let him live, Chet realized, for exactly one reason: he made them feel superior.
They'd learn now! Even though the children had stopped shrieking and gone away, disgusted at his passivity, no villager's insensitive ears could yet hear the ship.
In their boastfulness, the Agvars had invited other tribes to come and look at him and poke at him and laugh at him. His presence was known over the whole planet. He'd be found, no matter where on Hedlot the spaceship landed. ”

“ As they grew to be nine, ten, eleven, twelve, every winter when Old Arch would come around, my grandfather and his sister Annie would ask, "When are you going to take us to see the sky, Arch?" And he would say, "When you're older. When your folks say you can go." And, "When it's summer, and not too cold for these old bones."
But when my grandfather was fourteen he followed Old Arch out and down the stairs after the old man had paid his annual call, and he stopped him on a landing to ask, "Arch, have you ever taken anyone Outside?"
"No," Arch said, sighing. "People won't go." ”

“ But as he rose from the cot, Chet rose with him, and found himself at attention. They eyed each other.
"Relax," Dr. Pine suggested. "Please sit down—both of you."
Commander Seymour obeyed his subordinate. But Chet, still standing, still angry, turned hotly on the doctor.
"I can't just sit and let you talk about rewarding the Agvars for torturing me!" he cried. "We don't have to appease them—they can't fight. You don't have to be afraid—"
"That'll do, Barfield!" Commander Seymour was on his feet again, and his tone was sharp. It quieted Chet instantly. ”

“ Annie clung to my grandfather and made him walk close to the old man. It was clear the old man didn't have enough clothes on. He staggered and leaned hard on my grandfather.
They kept moving down the slight grade. They saw no sky and little of anything else. The snow was like a miniature of the City's Dome, except that this dome floated over them as they walked. Its edges were only about fifty yards off.
"Where are the Outsiders?" my grandfather asked. "Aren't there people here?"
"They're miles away," Arch told him. "And indoors. Only fools and youngsters are out in this blizzard." ”

“ Picking two that were neither dented, swollen, nor rusted, he smashed an end of each with his hammer, and gave Ida her choice of strained spinach or squash.
"Baby food!" she muttered. "Maybe it's just what we need, but to eat baby food with a man wearing a diaper.... Tell me, Roddie, how did you happen to know where to find it?"
"Well, this is the northern end of the city," he answered, shrugging. "I've been here before."
"Why did the soldier let us go?"
"This watch," he said, touching the radium dial. "It's a talisman."
But Ida's eyes had widened, and the color was gone from her face. ”

“ The pebble was a native object, known to be lifeless, inanimate. The watch was a strange something that moved. The can-lid did not move. The hand—gloved, though they could not know that—was an object that moved.
The dance was a question, therefore. Alive, or dead? The teardrops wanted to know. Is the watch that moves by itself alive? The strangely symmetrical lid of a can, is it alive? The oddshaped hand?
These teardrops had good minds—could grasp abstractions. In a sense, George felt, the difference between animate and inanimate objects is an abstraction. ”

“ Not Richard!
"Remember how you used to say that about Cappy? When he was really coming to see your daddy?"
"But Daddy isn't home!"
"He'll get here, dear. Now eat your supper."
A lot to ask of an excited little boy. And the tree was his friend, it seemed. Cappy's tree had even followed the child's orders. Richard might intercede—
No! Expose him to such danger? How could she think of it?
"Had enough to eat, dear? Wash your hands and face at the pump, and you can stay out and play till Daddy gets home. I—I want——I may have to see your friend, the tree, by myself ..." ”

“ Do you really want us to have that, or do you just want to talk about it?"
"Of course I want you to. But I can't take you Outside, boy."
My grandfather was disgusted. "There isn't any sky," he said sadly. "It's all talk. The certificates were just for begging."
"No," said Arch. "It's not all talk and I'm not a beggar. I'm a guide. But it's hard to see the sky right now because it's winter, and there are clouds all over."
"Let's see the clouds, then," my grandfather said stubbornly. "I've never seen a cloud."
The old man sat down on the stairs to consider the matter. ”

“ Chet couldn't be sure.
He listened for his own voice. The woods were quiet. His breathing seemed strangely loud. He held it—and heard the Agvars moving in the woods. Rustling, scraping, crackling—grunting their guttural dialog. Crashing! Threatening them!
"Let's go back!" he urged, trying to sound casual. But his trail was blocked.
"Stick around," Dr. Pine suggested easily. "You—ah—you haven't said anything we didn't know. We're going right ahead."
"But why?" Once more Chet was hotly incredulous. "To risk your life for a few stray facts? ”

“ As always when Invaders broke in from the north, he'd been left behind with his nurse, Molly, while the soldiers went out to fight.
And nowadays Molly's presence wasn't the comfort it used to be. He felt almost ready to jump out of his skin, the way she rocked and knitted in that grating ruined chair, saying over and over again, "The soldiers don't want little boys. The soldiers don't want little boys. The soldiers don't—"
"I'm not a little boy!" Roddie suddenly shouted. "I'm full-grown and I've never even seen an Invader. Why won't you let me go and fight?" ”

“ And why in the world not take for peace a risk we'd routinely accept in war?"
Why not? But why not minimize it, just the same. The Agvars, invisible but noisy, were all around them, now. At any moment the woods might rain spears.
"It would be safer with two of us," Chet said musingly. "Your knowledge of anthropology and medicine—mine of the people—"
"Barfield, you're still on the sicklist," Commander Seymour pointed out. He watched Chet's face for a long moment before adding, "Still—if you're over your sick-minded need for revenge—it's possible Dr. Pine may find you fit. It's up to him." ”

“ Pine has a job to do."
"What's that, Doctor?"
"I'm going to study your Agvar friends, Mr. Barfield. Want to help?"
"Sure," Chet said. "There's nothing I'd rather do than bring you a few corpses to dissect."
"That—ah—that isn't the idea," Dr. Pine said, bending his fingers and rocking from toes to heels. "I—ah—I want to do a little anthropology—study them in the life...."
"Why?" Chet demanded. "I can tell you all about them. I can tell you what they did to me, too! They don't deserve to live! And this planet won't be safe for spacemen till they're dead. Why waste time studying them? ”

“ Pine again! Pine found him good enough to imitate, it seemed, but not good enough to put on duty.
Suddenly Chet saw the possibilities. So Pine was going to impersonate him? Then Pine would be taken for an escaped sacrifice, a prisoner who'd killed a witch-doctor!
Tell him? Huh. Let him find out the hard way! Then even he, yellow as he was, would want revenge on the Agvars. If he survived their welcome....
"I'll be glad to go, sir," Chet said.
They brought him fatigues, not a dress uniform. But fatigues and shoes—even tight ones—were clothing, at least. And clothing would change his appearance. ”

“ Become a casualty while trying to avoid casualties? It doesn't make sense!"
Dr. Pine stared at his own hands as if to hide his shyness in them. "As to the fact-seeking," he said slowly, "well ... it's a matter of opinion. I've lost a few classmates.... Risks in research are commonplace—and accepted as worthwhile by most people....
"And—ah—peace.... You once called it appeasement, but it isn't, always. Well, look. If we fought those Agvars, somebody'd have to take a patrol into their village and capture prisoners for our Intelligence, right?"
Chet nodded dumbly. ”

“ The Agvars don't."
"Kill them, sir! That they'll understand!"
"No!" Commander Seymour spoke sharply. "If they don't fight back, that's cold-blooded slaughter. If they do, it's war. I don't hold with butchery, Barfield, and I certainly won't risk casualties just to give you a cheap feeling of satisfaction!"
He couldn't escape. Commander Seymour, looking from over Chet's shoulder like a walking sneer, stuck close. But he gave the impression of following a man who smelled bad.
Was he? Chet wondered.
Wondering, he unconsciously hung his head, slowed—stopped. Dr. Pine caught up. ”

“ He and Commander Seymour, faintly breathless from the trying need to regulate their respiration consciously, looked at Chet questioningly.
Again they were sizing him up. Suddenly Chet wished he could go back to that first interview in the sickbay, and change all the things he'd said.
"We can't go on!" he blurted. "You don't know what you're getting into, Doctor!"
"Oh?" said Dr. Pine agreeably. "I know more than you think, young feller." He smiled encouragingly.
"That—that I've killed a witch-doctor? That you may be taken for a murderer?" ”

“ But they'd been laughing and singing in their own cabin only a mile away, celebrating Richard's fifth birthday. She'd been annoyed when Cappy failed to show up with the present he'd promised Richard. Annoyed—while the old man pulled a blanket over his head, turned his round face to the wall, and died.
Watching compassionately, Naomi was suddenly struck by the matter-of-fact way Ted examined the body. Ted wasn't surprised.
"Why did you tell Richard to stay outside, just now?" she demanded. "How did you know what we'd find here? And why didn't you tell me, so I could keep Richard at home?" ”

“ And Seymour might listen to reason. After all, he was a practical man, a leader. And Pine was yellow!
"What's Pine after, sir?" Chet asked over his shoulder. "Why take these risks you've mentioned?"
"Well, partly for safety: if we kill any Agvars, we're likely to have to kill them all, or have the survivors to contend with indefinitely. That might cost us some casualties.... And of course there's the research angle, but that's out of my line."
"What's the matter with punishment, sir—discipline? You use discipline on your crew—why not on their enemies?" ”

“ And the tree plays with me."
"How, Richard?"
"If I'm pilot, he's navigator. Or ship, maybe. But he's so dumb, Mommie! I always have to tell him everything. Doesn't know what a fairy is, or Goldilocks, or anything!"
He clutched his book affectionately, rubbing his face on it. "Hurry up, Mommie. It'll be bedtime before you ever read to me!"
She touched his head briefly. "You can look at the book while I fix your supper."
But to explain Cappy's pictures—crudely crayoned cartoons, really—she had to fill in the story they illustrated. ”

“ When a day passed, and then two, and he felt his strength returning, Chet was sure that Dr. Pine kept him out of the wardroom and away from the other officers only as punishment. Three years a prisoner—and a prisoner still! By the time Commander Seymour came to see him again, Chet had spent hours plotting revenge.
"Barfield," the commander said, "Dr. Pine is going—alone—to the village you escaped from. He'll pretend he's you, or someone like you—whichever he can get away with. So here's your chance for a little fresh air—you can guide us to the village." ”

“ I count on killing something after we come under the Agvars' observation. That should show off our weapon-superiority—and pave the way for a feast."
"No medical stuff?" Chet asked sarcastically. "I thought Dr. Pine was supposed to cure all their ills, not give them indigestion."
"He has to get their confidence before he can treat them," Commander Seymour explained seriously. "And on a strange planet like this, he's taking quite a chance to try treatment at any time: if it fails, they're apt to accuse him of murder!" ”