Revolt was brewing on Venus, led by the
descendant of the first Earthmen to
land. Svan was the leader making the final
plans—plotting them a bit too well.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Winter 1944.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The Officer of the Deck was pleased as he returned to the main lock.There was no reason why everything shouldn't have been functioningperfectly, of course, but he was pleased to have it confirmed, all thesame. The Executive Officer was moodily smoking a cigarette in the openlock, staring out over the dank Venusian terrain at the native town. Heturned.
"Everything shipshape, I take it!" he commented.
The OD nodded. "I'll have a blank log if this keeps up," he said."Every man accounted for except the delegation, cargo stowed, driversready to lift as soon as they come back."
The Exec tossed away his cigarette. "If they come back."
"Is there any question?"
The Exec shrugged. "I don't know, Lowry," he said. "This is a funnyplace. I don't trust the natives."
Lowry lifted his eyebrows. "Oh? But after all, they're human beings,just like us—"
"Not any more. Four or five generations ago they were. Lord, they don'teven look human any more. Those white, flabby skins—I don't like them."
"Acclimation," Lowry said scientifically. "They had to acclimatethemselves to Venus's climate. They're friendly enough."
The Exec shrugged again. He stared at the wooden shacks that were theoutskirts of the native city, dimly visible through the ever-presentVenusian mist. The native guard of honor, posted a hundred yards fromthe Earth-ship, stood stolidly at attention with their old-fashionedproton-rifles slung over their backs. A few natives were gazingwonderingly at the great ship, but made no move to pass the line ofguards.
"Of course," Lowry said suddenly, "there's a minority who are afraidof us. I was in town yesterday, and I talked with some of the natives.They think there will be hordes of immigrants from Earth, now that weknow Venus is habitable. And there's some sort of a paltry undergroundgroup that is spreading the word that the immigrants will drive thenative Venusians—the descendants of the first expedition, thatis—right down into the mud. Well—" he laughed—"maybe they will.After all, the fittest survive. That's a basic law of—"
The annunciator over the open lock clanged vigorously, and a metallicvoice rasped: "Officer of the Deck! Post Number One! Instrumentsreports a spy ray focused on the main lock!"
Lowry, interrupted in the middle of a word, jerked his head back andstared unbelievingly at the tell-tale next to the annunciator. Sureenough, it was glowing red—might have been glowing for minutes. Hesnatched at the hand-phone dangling from the wall, shouted into it."Set up a screen! Notify the delegation! Alert a landing party!" Buteven while he was giving orders, the warning light flickered suddenlyand went out. Stricken, Lowry turned to the Exec.
The Executive Officer nodded gloomily. He said, "You see!"
"You see?"
Svan clicked off the listening-machine and turned around. The fiveothers in the room looked apprehensive. "You see?" Svan repeated. "Fromtheir own mouths you have heard it. The Council was right."
The younger of the two women sighed. She might have been beautiful, inspite of her dead-white skin, if there had been a scrap of hair on herhead. "Svan, I'm afraid," she said. "Who are we to decide if thisis a good thing? Our parents came from Earth. Perhaps there will betrouble at first, if colonists come, but we are