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MISSING LINK

BY FRANK HERBERT

Transcriberâs Note: This etext was produced from Astounding Science
Fiction, Volume LXII No. 6, February 1959. Extensive research did not
uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was
renewed.

[Illustration]

_The Romantics used to say that the eyes were the windows of the Soul.
A good Alien Xenologist might not put it quite so poetically ... but he
can, if heâs sharp, read a lot in the look of an eye!_

Illustrated by van Dongen

âWe ought to scrape this planet clean of every living thing on it,â
muttered Umbo Stetson, section chief of Investigation & Adjustment.

Stetson paced the landing control bridge of his scout cruiser. His
footsteps grated on a floor that was the rear wall of the bridge during
flight. But now the ship rested on its tail finsâall four hundred
glistening red and black meters of it. The open ports of the bridge
looked out on the jungle roof of Gienah III some one hundred fifty
meters below. A butter yellow sun hung above the horizon, perhaps an
hour from setting.

âClean as an egg!â he barked. He paused in his round of the bridge,
glared out the starboard port, spat into the fire-blackened circle that
the cruiserâs jets had burned from the jungle.

The I-A section chief was dark-haired, gangling, with large head and big
features. He stood in his customary slouch, a stance not improved by
sacklike patched blue fatigues. Although on this present operation he
rated the flag of a division admiral, his fatigues carried no insignia.
There was a general unkempt, straggling look about him.

Lewis Orne, junior I-A field man with a maiden diploma, stood at the
opposite port, studying the jungle horizon. Now and then he glanced at
the bridge control console, the chronometer above it, the big translite
map of their position tilted from the opposite bulkhead. A heavy planet
native, he felt vaguely uneasy on this Gienah III with its gravity of
only seven-eighths Terran Standard. The surgical scars on his neck where
the micro-communications equipment had been inserted itched maddeningly.
He scratched.

âHah!â said Stetson. âPoliticians!â

A thin black insect with shell-like wings flew in Orneâs port, settled
in his close-cropped red hair. Orne pulled the insect gently from his
hair, released it. Again it tried to land in his hair. He ducked. It
flew across the bridge, out the port beside Stetson.

There was a thick-muscled, no-fat look to Orne, but something about his
blocky, off-center features suggested a clown.

âIâm getting tired of waiting,â he said.

â_Youâre_ tired! Hah!â

A breeze rippled the tops of the green ocean below them. Here and there,
red and purple flowers jutted from the verdure, bending and nodding like
an attentive audience.

âJust look at that blasted jungle!â barked Stetson. âThem and their
stupid orders!â

A call bell tinkled on the bridge control console. The red light above
the speaker grid began blinking. Stetson shot an angry glance at it.
âYeah, Hal?â

âO.K., Stet. Orders just came through. We use Plan C. ComGO says to
brief the field man, and jet out of here.â

âDid you ask them about using another field man?â

Orne looked up attentively.

The speaker said: âYes. They said we have to use Orne because of the
records on the _Delphinus_.â

âWell then, will they give us more time to brief him?â

âNegative. Itâs crash priority. ComGO expects to blast the planet
anyway.â

Stetson glared at the grid. âThose fat-headed, lard-bottomed,
pig-brained ... POLITICIANS!â He took two deep breaths, subsided. âO.K.
Tell them weâll comply.â

âOne more thing, Stet.â

âWhat now?â

âIâve got a confirmed contact.â

Instantly, Stetson was poised on the balls of his feet, alert. âWhere?â

âAbout ten kilometers out. Section AAB-6.â

âHow many?â

âA mob. You want I should count them?â

âNo. Whatâre they doing?â

âMaking a beeline for us. You better get a move on.â

âO.K. Keep us posted.â

âRight.â

       *       *       *       *       *

Stetson looked across at his junior field man. âOrne, if you decide you
want out of this assignment, you just say the word. Iâll back you to the
hilt.â

âWhy should I want out of my first field assignment?â

âListen, and find out.â Stetson crossed to a tilt-locker behind the big
translite map, hauled out a white coverall uniform with gold insignia,
tossed it to Orne. âGet into these while I brief you on the map.â

âBut this is an R&R uniââ began Orne.

âGet that uniform on your ugly frame!â

âYes, sir, Admiral Stetson, sir. Right away, sir. But I thought I was
through with old Rediscovery & Reeducation when you drafted me off of
Hamal into the I-A ... sir.â He began changing from the I-A blue to the
R&R white. Almost as an afterthought, he said: â... Sir.â

A wolfish grin cracked Stetsonâs big features. âIâm soooooo happy you
have the proper attitude of subservience toward authority.â

Orne zipped up the coverall uniform. âOh, yes, sir ... sir.â

âO.K., Orne, pay attention.â Stetson gestured at the map with its green
superimposed grid squares. âHere we are. Hereâs that city we flew over
on our way down. Youâll head for it as soon as we drop you. The place is
big enough that if you hold a course roughly northeast you canât miss
it. Weâreââ

Again the call bell rang.

âWhat is it this time, Hal?â barked Stetson.

âTheyâve changed to Plan H, Stet. New orders cut.â

âFive days?â

âThatâs all they can give us. ComGO says he canât keep the information
out of High Commissioner Bulloneâs hands any longer than that.â

âItâs five days for sure then.â

âIs this the usual R&R foul-up?â asked Orne.

Stetson nodded. âThanks to Bullone and company! Weâre just one jump
ahead of catastrophe, but they still pump the bushwah into the Rah & Rah
boys back at dear old Uni-Galacta!â

âYouâre making light of my revered alma mater,â said Orne. He struck a
pose. âWe must reunite the lost planets with our centers of culture and
industry, and take up the _glor_-ious onward march of mankind that was
so _bru_-tallyââ

âCan it!â snapped Stetson. âWe both know weâre going to rediscover one
planet too many some day. Rim War all over again. But this is a
different breed of fish. Itâs not, repeat, _not_ a _re_-discovery.â

Orne sobered. âAlien?â

âYes. A-L-I-E-N! A never-before-contacted culture. That language you
were force fed on the way over, thatâs an alien language. Itâs not
complete ... all we have off the _minis_. And we excluded data on the
natives because weâve been hoping to dump this project and nobody the
wiser.â

âHoly mazoo!â

âTwenty-six days ago an I-A search ship came through here, had a routine
mini-sneaker look at the place. When he combed in his net of sneakers to
check the tapes and films, lo and behold, he had a little stranger.â

âOne of _theirs_?â

âNo. It was a _mini_ off the _Delphinus Rediscovery_. The _Delphinus_
has been unreported for eighteen standard months!â

âDid it crack up here?â

âWe donât know. If it did, we havenât been able to spot it. She was
supposed to be way off in the Balandine System by now. But weâve
something else on our minds. Itâs the one item that makes me want to
blot out this place, and run home with my tail between my legs. Weâve
aââ

Again the call bell chimed.

âNOW WHAT?â roared Stetson into the speaker.

âIâve got a _mini_ over that mob, Stet. Theyâre talking about us. Itâs a
definite raiding party.â

âWhat armament?â

âToo gloomy in that jungle to be sure. The infra beamâs out on this
_mini_. Looks like hard pellet rifles of some kind. Might even be off
the _Delphinus_.â

âCanât you get closer?â

âWouldnât do any good. No light down there, and theyâre moving up fast.â

âKeep an eye on them, but donât ignore the other sectors,â said Stetson.

âYou think I was born yesterday?â barked the voice from the grid. The
contact broke off with an angry sound.

       *       *       *       *       *

âOne thing I like about the I-A,â said Stetson. âIt collects such
even-tempered types.â He looked at the white uniform on Orne, wiped a
hand across his mouth as though heâd tasted something dirty.

âWhy _am_ I wearing this thing?â asked Orne.

âDisguise.â

âBut thereâs no mustache!â

Stetson smiled without humor. âThatâs one of I-Aâs answers to those
fat-keistered politicians. Weâre setting up our own search system to
find the planets before _they_ do. Weâve managed to put spies in key
places at R&R. Any touchy planets our spies report, we divert the
files.â

âThen what?â

âThen we look into them with bright boys like youâdisguised as R&R
field men.â

âGoody, goody. And what happens if R&R stumbles onto me while Iâm down
there playing patty cake?â

âWe disown you.â

âBut you said an I-A ship found this joint.â

âIt did. And then one of our spies in R&R intercepted a _routine_
request for an agent-instructor to be assigned here with full equipment.
Request signed by a First-Contact officer name of Diston ... of the
_Delphinus_!â

âBut the Delââ

âYeah. Missing. The request was a forgery. Now you see why Iâm mostly
for rubbing out this place. Whoâd dare forge such a thing unless he knew
for sure that the original FC officer was missing ... or dead?â

âWhat the jumped up mazoo are we doing here, Stet?â asked Orne. âAlien
calls for a full contact team with all of theââ

âIt calls for one planet-buster bomb ... busterâin five days. Unless
you give them a white bill in the meantime. High Commissioner Bullone
will have word of this planet by then. If Gienah III still exists in
five days, canât you imagine the fun the politiciansâll have with it?
Mama mia! We want this planet cleared for contact or dead before then.â

âI donât like this, Stet.â

âYOU donât like it!â

âLook,â said Orne. âThere must be another way. Why ... when we teamed up
with the Alerinoids we gained five hundred years in the physical
sciences alone, not to mention theââ

âThe Alerinoids didnât knock over one of our survey ships first.â

âWhat if the _Delphinus_ just crashed here ... and the locals picked up
the pieces?â

âThatâs what youâre going in to find out, Orne. But answer me this: If
they _do_ have the _Delphinus_, how long before a tool-using race could
be a threat to the galaxy?â

âI saw that city they built, Stet. They could be dug in within six
months, and thereâd be noââ

âYeah.â

Orne shook his head. âBut think of it: Two civilizations that matured
along different lines! Think of all the different ways weâd approach the
same problems ... the lever thatâd give us forââ

âYou sound like a Uni-Galacta lecture! Are you through marching arm in
arm into the misty future?â

Orne took a deep breath. âWhyâs a freshman like me being tossed into
this dish?â

âYouâd still be on the _Delphinus_ master lists as an R&R field man.
Thatâs important if youâre masquerading.â

âAm I the only one? I know Iâm a recent _convert_, butââ

âYou want out?â

âI didnât say that. I just want to know why Iâmââ

âBecause the bigdomes fed a set of requirements into one of their iron
monsters. Your card popped out. They were looking for somebody capable,
dependable ... and ... _expendable_!â

âHey!â

âThatâs why Iâm down here briefing you instead of sitting back on a
flagship. _I_ got you into the I-A. Now, you listen carefully: If you
push the panic button on this one without cause, I will personally flay
you alive. We both know the advantages of an alien contact. But if you
get into a hot spot, and call for help, Iâll dive this cruiser into that
city to get you out!â

Orne swallowed. âThanks, Stet. Iâmââ

       *       *       *       *       *

âWeâre going to take up a tight orbit. Out beyond us will be five
transports full of I-A marines and a Class IX Monitor with one
planet-buster. Youâre calling the shots, God help you! First, we want to
know if they have the _Delphinus_ ... and if so, where it is. Next, we
want to know just how warlike these goons are. Can we control them if
theyâre bloodthirsty. Whatâs their potential?â

âIn five days?â

âNot a second more.â

âWhat do we know about them?â

âNot much. They look something like an ancient Terran chimpanzee ...
only with blue fur. Face is hairless, pink-skinned.â Stetson snapped a
switch. The translite map became a screen with a figure frozen on it.
âLike that. This is life size.â

âLooks like the missing link theyâre always hunting for,â said Orne.
âYeah, but youâve got a different kind of a missing link.â

âVertical-slit pupils in their eyes,â said Orne. He studied the figure.
It had been caught from the front by a mini-sneaker camera. About five
feet tall. The stance was slightly bent forward, long arms. Two vertical
nose slits. A flat, lipless mouth. Receding chin. Four-fingered hands.
It wore a wide belt from which dangled neat pouches and what looked like
tools, although their use was obscure. There appeared to be the tip of a
tail protruding from behind one of the squat legs. Behind the creature
towered the faery spires of the city theyâd observed from the air.

âTails?â asked Orne.

âYeah. Theyâre arboreal. Not a road on the whole planet that we can
find. But there are lots of vine lanes through the jungles.â Stetsonâs
face hardened. âMatch _that_ with a city as advanced as that one.â

âSlave culture?â

âProbably.â

âHow many cities have they?â

âWeâve found two. This one and another on the other side of the planet.
But the other oneâs a ruin.â

âA ruin? Why?â

âYou tell us. Lots of mysteries here.â

âWhatâs the planet like?â

âMostly jungle. There are polar oceans, lakes and rivers. One low
mountain chain follows the equatorial belt about two thirds around the
planet.â

âBut only two cities. Are you sure?â

âReasonably so. Itâd be pretty hard to miss something the size of that
thing we flew over. It must be fifty kilometers long and at least ten
wide. Swarming with these creatures, too. Weâve got a zone-count
estimate that places the cityâs population at over thirty million.â

âWhee-ew! Those are tall buildings, too.â

âWe donât know much about this place, Orne. And unless you bring them
into the fold, thereâll be nothing but ashes for our archaeologists to
pick over.â

âSeems a dirty shame.â

âI agree, butââ

The call bell jangled.

       *       *       *       *       *

Stetsonâs voice sounded tired: âYeah, Hal?â

âThat mobâs only about five kilometers out, Stet. Weâve got Orneâs gear
outside in the disguised air sled.â

âWeâll be right down.â

âWhy a disguised sled?â asked Orne.

âIf they think itâs a ground buggy, they might get careless when you
most need an advantage. We could always scoop you out of the air, you
know.â

âWhatâre my chances on this one, Stet?â

Stetson shrugged. âIâm afraid theyâre slim. These goons probably have
the _Delphinus_, and they want you just long enough to get your
equipment and everything you know.â

âRough as that, eh?â

âAccording to our best guess. If youâre not out in five days, we blast.â

Orne cleared his throat.

âWant out?â asked Stetson.

âNo.â

âUse the _back-door_ rule, son. Always leave yourself a way out. Now ...
letâs check that equipment the surgeons put in your neck.â Stetson put a
hand to his throat. His mouth remained closed, but there was a
surf-hissing voice in Orneâs ears: âYou read me?â

âSure. I canââ

âNo!â hissed the voice. âTouch the mike contact. Keep your mouth closed.
Just use your speaking muscles without speaking.â

Orne obeyed.

âO.K.,â said Stetson. âYou come in loud and clear.â

âI ought to. Iâm right on top of you!â

âThereâll be a relay ship over you all the time,â said Stetson. âNow ...
when youâre not touching that mike contact this rigâll still feed us
what you say ... and everything that goes on around you, too. Weâll
monitor everything. Got that?â

âYes.â

Stetson held out his right hand. âGood luck. I meant that about diving
in for you. Just say the word.â

âI know the word, too,â said Orne. âHELP!â

       *       *       *       *       *

Gray mud floor and gloomy aisles between monstrous bluish tree
trunksâthat was the jungle. Only the barest weak glimmering of sunlight
penetrated to the mud. The disguised sledâits para-grav units turned
offâlurched and skidded around buttress roots. Its headlights swung in
wild arcs across the trunks and down to the mud. Aerial creepersâgreat
looping vines of themâswung down from the towering forest ceiling. A
steady drip of condensation spattered the windshield, forcing Orne to
use the wipers.

In the bucket seat of the sledâs cab, Orne fought the controls. He was
plagued by the vague slow-motion-floating sensation that a heavy planet
native always feels in lighter gravity. It gave him an unhappy stomach.

Things skipped through the air around the lurching vehicle: flitting and
darting things. Insects came in twin cones, siphoned toward the
headlights. There was an endless chittering whistling tok-tok-toking in
the gloom beyond the lights.

Stetsonâs voice hissed suddenly through the surgically implanted
speaker: âHowâs it look?â

âAlien.â

âAny sign of that mob?â

âNegative.â

âO.K. Weâre taking off.â

Behind Orne, there came a deep rumbling roar that receded as the scout
cruiser climbed its jets. All other sounds hung suspended in
after-silence, then resumed: the strongest first and then the weakest.

A heavy object suddenly arced through the headlights, swinging on a
vine. It disappeared behind a tree. Another. Another. Ghostly shadows
with vine pendulums on both sides. Something banged down heavily onto
the hood of the sled.

[Illustration]

Orne braked to a creaking stop that shifted the load behind him, found
himself staring through the windshield at a native of Gienah III. The
native crouched on the hood, a Mark XX exploding-pellet rifle in his
right hand directed at Orneâs head. In the abrupt shock of meeting, Orne
recognized the weapon: standard issue to the marine guards on all R&R
survey ships.

The native appeared the twin of the one Orne had seen on the translite
screen. The four-fingered hand looked extremely capable around the stock
of the Mark XX.

Slowly, Orne put a hand to his throat, pressed the contact button. He
moved his speaking muscles: _âJust made contact with the mob. One on the
hood now has one of our Mark XX rifles aimed at my head.â_

The surf-hissing of Stetsonâs voice came through the hidden speaker:
_âWant us to come back?â_

_âNegative. Stand by. He looks cautious rather than hostile.â_

Orne held up his right hand, palm out. He had a second thought: held up
his left hand, too. Universal symbol of peaceful intentions: empty
hands. The gun muzzle lowered slightly. Orne called into his mind the
language that had been hypnoforced into him. _Ocheero? No. That means
âThe People.â Ah ..._ And he had the heavy fricative greeting sound.

âFfroiragrazzi,â he said.

The native shifted to the left, answered in pure, unaccented High
Galactese: âWho are you?â

Orne fought down a sudden panic. The lipless mouth had looked so odd
forming the familiar words.

Stetsonâs voice hissed: _âIs that the native speaking Galactese?â_

Orne touched his throat. _âYou heard him.â_

He dropped his hand, said: âI am Lewis Orne of Rediscovery and
Reeducation. I was sent here at the request of the First-Contact officer
on the _Delphinus Rediscovery_.â

âWhere is your ship?â demanded the Gienahn.

âIt put me down and left.â

âWhy?â

âIt was behind schedule for another appointment.â

       *       *       *       *       *

Out of the corners of his eyes, Orne saw more shadows dropping to the
mud around him. The sled shifted as someone climbed onto the load behind
the cab. The someone scuttled agilely for a moment.

The native climbed down to the cabâs side step, opened the door. The
rifle was held at the ready. Again, the lipless mouth formed Galactese
words: âWhat do you carry in this ... vehicle?â

âThe equipment every R&R field man uses to help the people of a
rediscovered planet improve themselves.â Orne nodded at the rifle.
âWould you mind pointing that weapon some other direction? It makes me
nervous.â

The gun muzzle remained unwaveringly on Orneâs middle. The nativeâs
mouth opened, revealing long canines. âDo we not look strange to you?â

âI take it thereâs been a heavy mutational variation in the humanoid
norm on this planet,â said Orne. âWhat is it? Hard radiation?â

No answer.

âIt doesnât really make any difference, of course,â said Orne. âIâm here
to help you.â

âI am Tanub, High Path Chief of the Grazzi,â said the native. âI decide
who is to help.â

Orne swallowed.

âWhere do you go?â demanded Tanub.

âI was hoping to go to your city. Is it permitted?â

A long pause while the vertical-slit pupils of Tanubâs eyes expanded and
contracted. âIt is permitted.â

Stetsonâs voice came through the hidden speaker: _âAll bets off. Weâre
coming in after you. That Mark XX is the final straw. It means they have
the_ Delphinus _for sure!â_

Orne touched his throat. _âNo! Give me a little more time!â_

_âWhy?â_

_âI have a hunch about these creatures.â_

_âWhat is it?â_

_âNo time now. Trust me.â_

Another long pause in which Orne and Tanub continued to study each
other. Presently, Stetson said: _âO.K. Go ahead as planned. But find out
where the_ Delphinus _is! If we get that back we pull their teeth.â_

âWhy do you keep touching your throat?â demanded Tanub.

âIâm nervous,â said Orne. âGuns always make me nervous.â

The muzzle lowered slightly.

âShall we continue on to your city?â asked Orne. He wet his lips with
his tongue. The cab light on Tanubâs face was giving the Gienahn an
eerie sinister look.

âWe can go soon,â said Tanub.

âWill you join me inside here?â asked Orne. âThereâs a passenger seat
right behind me.â

Tanubâs eyes moved catlike: right, left. âYes.â He turned, barked an
order into the jungle gloom, then climbed in behind Orne.

âWhen do we go?â asked Orne.

âThe great sun will be down soon,â said Tanub. âWe can continue as soon
as Chiranachuruso rises.â

âChiranachuruso?â

âOur satellite ... our moon,â said Tanub.

âItâs a beautiful word,â said Orne. âChiranachuruso.â

âIn our tongue it means: The Limb of Victory,â said Tanub. âBy its light
we will continue.â

Orne turned, looked back at Tanub. âDo you mean to tell me that you can
see by what light gets down here through those trees?â

âCan you not see?â asked Tanub.

âNot without the headlights.â

âOur eyes differ,â said Tanub. He bent toward Orne, peered. The vertical
slit pupils of his eyes expanded, contracted. âYou are the same as the
... others.â

âOh, on the _Delphinus_?â

Pause. âYes.â

Presently, a greater gloom came over the jungle, bringing a sudden
stillness to the wild life. There was a chittering commotion from the
natives in the trees around the sled. Tanub shifted behind Orne.

âWe may go now,â he said. âSlowly ... to stay behind my ... scouts.â

âRight.â Orne eased the sled forward around an obstructing root.

       *       *       *       *       *

Silence while they crawled ahead. Around them shapes flung themselves
from vine to vine.

âI admired your city from the air,â said Orne. âIt is very beautiful.â

âYes,â said Tanub. âWhy did you land so far from it?â

âWe didnât want to come down where we might destroy anything.â

âThere is nothing to destroy in the jungle,â said Tanub.

âWhy do you have such a big city?â asked Orne.

Silence.

âI said: Why do youââ

âYou are ignorant of our ways,â said Tanub. âTherefore, I forgive you.
The city is for our race. We must breed and be born in sunlight.
Onceâlong agoâwe used crude platforms on the tops of the trees. Now
... only the ... wild ones do this.â

Stetsonâs voice hissed in Orneâs ears: _âEasy on the sex line, boy.
Thatâs always touchy. These creatures are oviparous. Sex glands are
apparently hidden in that long fur behind where their chins ought to
be.â_

âWho controls the breeding sites controls our world,â said Tanub. âOnce
there was another city. We destroyed it.â

âAre there many ... wild ones?â asked Orne.

âFewer each year,â said Tanub.

_âThereâs how they get their slaves,â_ hissed Stetson.

âYou speak excellent Galactese,â said Orne.

âThe High Path Chief commanded the best teacher,â said Tanub. âDo you,
too, know many things, Orne?â

âThatâs why I was sent here,â said Orne.

âAre there many planets to teach?â asked Tanub.

âVery many,â said Orne. âYour cityâI saw very tall buildings. Of what
do you build them?â

âIn your tongueâglass,â said Tanub. âThe engineers of the _Delphinus_
said it was impossible. As you sawâthey are wrong.â

_âA glass-blowing culture,â_ hissed Stetson. _âThatâd explain a lot of
things.â_

Slowly, the disguised sled crept through the jungle. Once, a scout
swooped down into the headlights, waved. Orne stopped on Tanubâs order,
and they waited almost ten minutes before proceeding.

âWild ones?â asked Orne.

âPerhaps,â said Tanub.

A glowing of many lights grew visible through the giant tree trunks. It
grew brighter as the sled crept through the last of the jungle, emerged
in cleared land at the edge of the city.

Orne stared upward in awe. The city fluted and spiraled into the moonlit
sky. It was a fragile appearing lacery of bridges, winking dots of
light. The bridges wove back and forth from building to building until
the entire visible network appeared one gigantic dew-glittering web.

âAll that with glass,â murmured Orne.

_âWhatâs happening?â_ hissed Stetson.

Orne touched his throat contact. _âWeâre just into the city clearing,
proceeding toward the nearest building.â_

âThis is far enough,â said Tanub.

       *       *       *       *       *

Orne stopped the sled. In the moonlight, he could see armed Gienahns all
around. The buttressed pedestal of one of the buildings loomed directly
ahead. It looked taller than had the scout cruiser in its jungle landing
circle.

Tanub leaned close to Orneâs shoulder. âWe have not deceived you, have
we, Orne?â

âHuh? What do you mean?â

âYou have recognized that we are not mutated members of your race.â

Orne swallowed. Into his ears came Stetsonâs voice: _âBetter admit it.â_

âThatâs true,â said Orne.

âI like you, Orne,â said Tanub. âYou shall be one of my slaves. You will
teach me many things.â

âHow did you capture the _Delphinus_?â asked Orne.

âYou know that, too?â

âYou have one of their rifles,â said Orne.

âYour race is no match for us, Orne ... in cunning, in strength, in the
prowess of the mind. Your ship landed to repair its tubes. Very inferior
ceramics in those tubes.â

Orne turned, looked at Tanub in the dim glow of the cab light. âHave you
heard about the I-A, Tanub?â

âI-A? What is that?â There was a wary tenseness in the Gienahnâs figure.
His mouth opened to reveal the long canines.

âYou took the _Delphinus_ by treachery?â asked Orne.

âThey were simple fools,â said Tanub. âWe are smaller, thus they thought
us weaker.â The Mark XXâs muzzle came around to center on Orneâs
stomach. âYou have not answered my question. What is the I-A?â

âI am of the I-A,â said Orne. âWhereâve you hidden the _Delphinus_?â

âIn the place that suits us best,â said Tanub. âIn all our history there
has never been a better place.â

âWhat do you plan to do with it?â asked Orne.

âWithin a year we will have a copy with our own improvements. After
thatââ

âYou intend to start a war?â asked Orne.

âIn the jungle the strong slay the weak until only the strong remain,â
said Tanub.

âAnd then the strong prey upon each other?â asked Orne.

âThat is a quibble for women,â said Tanub.

âItâs too bad you feel that way,â said Orne. âWhen two cultures meet
like this they tend to help each other. What have you done with the crew
of the _Delphinus_?â

âThey are slaves,â said Tanub. âThose who still live. Some resisted.
Others objected to teaching us what we want to know.â He waved the gun
muzzle. âYou will not be that foolish, will you, Orne?â

âNo need to be,â said Orne. âIâve another little lesson to teach you: I
already know where youâve hidden the _Delphinus_.â

_âGo, boy!â_ hissed Stetson. _âWhere is it?â_

âImpossible!â barked Tanub.

âItâs on your moon,â said Orne. âDarkside. Itâs on a mountain on the
darkside of your moon.â

Tanubâs eyes dilated, contracted. âYou read minds?â

âThe I-A has no need to read minds,â said Orne. âWe rely on superior
mental prowess.â

_âThe marines are on their way,â_ hissed Stetson. _âWeâre coming in to
get you. Iâm going to want to know how you guessed that one.â_

âYou are a weak fool like the others,â gritted Tanub.

âItâs too bad you formed your opinion of us by observing only the low
grades of the R&R,â said Orne.

_âEasy, boy,â_ hissed Stetson. _âDonât pick a fight with him now.
Remember, his race is arboreal. Heâs probably as strong as an ape.â_

âI could kill you where you sit!â grated Tanub.

âYou write finish for your entire planet if you do,â said Orne. âIâm not
alone. There are others listening to every word we say. Thereâs a ship
overhead that could split open your planet with one bombâwash it with
molten rock. Itâd run like the glass you use for your buildings.â

âYou are lying!â

âWeâll make you an offer,â said Orne. âWe donât really want to
exterminate you. Weâll give you limited membership in the Galactic
Federation until you prove youâre no menace to us.â

_âKeep talking,â_ hissed Stetson. _âKeep him interested.â_

âYou dare insult me!â growled Tanub.

âYou had better believe me,â said Orne. âWeââ

Stetsonâs voice interrupted him: _âGot it, Orne! They caught the_
Delphinus _on the ground right where you said itâd be! Blew the tubes
off it. Marines now mopping up.â_

âItâs like this,â said Orne. âWe already have recaptured the
_Delphinus_.â Tanubâs eyes went instinctively skyward. âExcept for the
captured armament you still hold, you obviously donât have the weapons
to meet us,â continued Orne. âOtherwise, you wouldnât be carrying that
rifle off the _Delphinus_.â

âIf you speak the truth, then we shall die bravely,â said Tanub.

âNo need for you to die,â said Orne.

âBetter to die than be slaves,â said Tanub.

âWe donât need slaves,â said Orne. âWeââ

âI cannot take the chance that you are lying,â said Tanub. âI must kill
you now.â

       *       *       *       *       *

Orneâs foot rested on the air sled control pedal. He depressed it.
Instantly, the sled shot skyward, heavy Gâs pressing them down into the
seats. The gun in Tanubâs hands was slammed into his lap. He struggled
to raise it. To Orne, the weight was still only about twice that of his
home planet of Chargon. He reached over, took the rifle, found safety
belts, bound Tanub with them. Then he eased off the acceleration.

âWe donât need slaves,â said Orne. âWe have machines to do our work.
Weâll send experts in here, teach you people how to exploit your planet,
how to build good transportation facilities, show you how to mine your
minerals, how toââ

âAnd what do we do in return?â whispered Tanub.

âYou could start by teaching us how you make superior glass,â said Orne.
âI certainly hope you see things our way. We really donât want to have
to come down there and clean you out. Itâd be a shame to have to blast
that city into little pieces.â

Tanub wilted. Presently, he said: âSend me back. I will discuss this
with ... our council.â He stared at Orne. âYou I-Aâs are too strong. We
did not know.â

       *       *       *       *       *

In the wardroom of Stetsonâs scout cruiser, the lights were low, the
leather chairs comfortable, the green beige table set with a decanter of
Hochar brandy and two glasses.

Orne lifted his glass, sipped the liquor, smacked his lips. âFor a while
there, I thought Iâd never be tasting anything like this again.â

Stetson took his own glass. âComGO heard the whole thing over the
general monitor net,â he said. âDâyou know youâve been breveted to
senior field man?â

âAh, theyâve already recognized my sterling worth,â said Orne.

The wolfish grin took over Stetsonâs big features. âSenior field men
last about half as long as the juniors,â he said. âMortalityâs
terrific?â

âI mightâve known,â said Orne. He took another sip of the brandy.

Stetson flicked on the switch of a recorder beside him. âO.K. You can go
ahead any time.â

âWhere do you want me to start?â

âFirst, howâd you spot right away where theyâd hidden the _Delphinus_?â

âEasy. Tanubâs word for his people was _Grazzi_. Most races call
themselves something meaning _The People_. But in his tongue thatâs
_Ocheero_. _Grazzi_ wasnât on the translated list. I started working on
it. The most likely answer was that it had been adopted from another
language, and meant _enemy_.â

âAnd _that_ told you where the _Delphinus_ was?â

âNo. But it fitted my hunch about these Gienahns. Iâd kind of felt from
the first minute of meeting them that they had a culture like the
Indians of ancient Terra.â

âWhy?â

âThey came in like a primitive raiding party. The leader dropped right
onto the hood of my sled. An act of bravery, no less. Counting coup, you
see?â

âI guess so.â

âThen he said he was High Path Chief. That wasnât on the language list,
either. But it was easy: _Raider Chief._ Thereâs a word in almost every
language in history that means raider and derives from a word for road,
path or highway.â

âHighwaymen,â said Stetson.

âRaid itself,â said Orne. âAn ancient Terran language corruption of
road.â

âYeah, yeah. But whereâd all this translation griff putââ

âDonât be impatient. Glass-blowing culture meant they were just out of
the primitive stage. That, we could control. Next, he said their moon
was _Chiranachuruso_, translated as _The Limb of Victory_. After that it
just fell into place.â

âHow?â

âThe vertical-slit pupils of their eyes. Doesnât that mean anything to
you?â

âMaybe. Whatâs it mean to you?â

âNight-hunting predator accustomed to dropping upon its victims from
above. No other type of creature ever has had the vertical slit. And
Tanub said himself that the _Delphinus_ was hidden in the best place in
all of their history. History? Thatâd be a high place. Dark, likewise.
Ergo: a high place on the darkside of their moon.â

âIâm a pie-eyed greepus,â whispered Stetson.

Orne grinned, said: âYou probably are ... sir.â

THE END

Transcriberâs Notes: The table below lists all corrections applied to
the original text.

p. 102: [normalized] ComGo -> ComGO
p. 103: net of snakers -> sneakers
p. 105: [removed extra quote] âOrne swallowed
p. 111: [added closing quote] âA glass-blowing culture,â

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Missing Link, by Frank Patrick Herbert
{'title': 'Missing Link by Frank Herbert', 'source': 'Project Gutenberg', 'lang': 'en'}