Join Our Gang?

  Produced by Greg Weeks and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  Transcriber's Note: This e-text was produced from Analog Science Fact &Fiction, May, 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidencethat the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.

  JOINOUR GANG?

  By STERLING E. LANIER

  _They didn't exactly hold a gun at anybody'shead; all they offered was help. Of course,they did sort of encourage people to ask forhelp...._

  Illustrated by Douglas

  Commander William Powers, subleader of Survey Group Sirian Combine--1027798and hence first officer of its ship, the _Benefactor_, stared coldlyout of his cabin port. The _Benefactor_ was resting on the bedrock ofIsland Twenty-seven of the world called Mureess by its natives. Likeall the other such names, it meant "the world," just as the natives'name for themselves, Falsethsa, meant "the people," or "us," or "theonly race." To Commander Powers, fifty years old, with eleven of themin Survey work, the world was Planet Two of a star called somethingunpronounceable in the nebula of something else equally pointless. Hehad not bothered to learn the native name of Island Twenty-seven,because his ship had mapped one thousand three hundred and eighty-sixislands, all small, and either rocky or swampy or both. IslandTwenty-seven, to him, had only one importance, and that was its beingthe site of the largest city on the planet.

  Around the island's seven square miles, a maze of docks, buildings,sheds, breakwaters, and artificial inlets made a maze stretching a mileout to sea in every direction. The gray sea, now covered with fogpatches, rolled on the horizon under low-lying cloud. Numerous craft,some small, some large, moved busily about on the water, which in itscomponents was identical with that of Terra, far distant in the SiriusSector. Crude but workable atomic motors powered most of them, andthere was a high proportion of submarines. Powers thought of Earth'soceans for a moment, but then dismissed the thought. Biologicaltechnical data were no specialty he needed. Terra might be suitable forthe action formulating in his mind, but a thousand suns of SirianCombine might prove more useful. The biologists of Grand Base woulddetermine, assisted by data his ship provided, in their monstercomputers, what was called for. Powers had been trained for differentpurposes.

  He was, as every survey commander was, a battle-hardened warrior. Hehad fought in two major fleet actions in his day, and had once, as avery junior ensign of the Sirian Grand Fleet, participated in theultimate horror, the destruction by obliteration of an inhabitedplanet. For planetary destruction a unanimous vote of the Sirian GrandCouncil, representing over four thousand worlds, was necessary. It hadbeen given only four times in the long history of the Confederacy.Every intelligent being in the great Union shuddered at the thought ofits ever becoming necessary again. Powers stared moodily over the rockyground toward a group of figures in the distance which were moving inhis direction. The final delegation of the Mureess government, a worldgovernment, was coming for its last meeting before the _Benefactor_departed into the far reaches of space.

  Powers braced himself mentally for a grand effort. He held equivalentrank to that of a Galactic admiral, and it was held for one reasononly, because of his real work and its importance. He was asuper-psychologist, a trend-analyzer, a salesman, a promoter, a viewer,an expert on alien symbology and the spearhead of the most ruthlessintelligence service in the known universe. Long ago, he hadtransferred from the battle fleet to the inner school at Sirius Primefor the most intensive training ever devised. Now it would be put tothe ultimate test.

  He heard the air lock open and turned away from the window. He had along way to walk to the neutral council chamber, for the _Benefactor_was a big ship, despite the fact that only twenty beings comprised thetotal complement. Down the echoing corridors he paced, brow furrowed inthought. Mazechazz would have his own ideas, he knew, but if they madeno impression, he would have to put his oar in. Each being on board,whether he breathed halogen or oxygen, ate uranium or protein, had tobe independent in thought and action under certain circumstances. Thecircumstances were here, here and now in his judgment.

  He arrived at the door of the Council chamber, and entered, animpressive sight in flaming orange and blue uniform.

  Four members of the Supreme Council of the Mureess rose solemnly andinclined their heads in his direction. They were tall bipeds of vaguelyreptilian ancestry, most of their height being body. They stood onshort powerful legs, terminating in flippered feet, and their long armswere flanged to the second elbow with a rubbery fin. Only four opposedfingers flexed the hands, but the dome-shaped heads and golden eyesscreamed intelligence as loudly as the bodies shouted adaption to anaquatic environment. Around the brown torsos, light but efficientharness supported a variety of instruments in noncorrosive metalsheaths. All of the instruments had been discreetly examined byscanning beams and pronounced harmless before any contact had beenallowed.

  Across the central table, Sakh Mazechazz, of Lyra 8, leader and captainof the Survey stared red-eyed at his executive officer. Mazechazzresembled the delegation far more than he did his own officer, for he,too, had remotely reptilian forbears. Indeed he still sported aflexible tail and, save for his own orange and blue uniform, ablazewith precious stones, resembled nothing so much as a giant Terrestrialchameleon. The uniforms were no accident. Surveymen wore anything ornothing as the case called for it, and the Falsethsa admired brightcolors, having few of their own and a good color sense. The gleamingjewels on Mazechazz's uniform stressed his superiority in rank toPowers, as they were meant to.

  Of the twenty Surveymen on board the _Benefactor_, Mazechazz and Powerswere the only two who most resembled, in that order, the oxygen-breathingnatives of Mureess. That automatically made them captain and executiveofficer of the _Benefactor_. The native population saw only the captainand executive officer of the ship, and only the council chamber. On aworld of ammonia breathers, Mazechazz and Powers would have beeninvisible in their own part of the ship providing advice only to theSkorak of Marga 10, Lambdem, and perhaps Nyur of Antares-bi-12. If asuspicious native saw an entity with whom he could feel a remoterelationship giving orders to a weird-looking, far more, aliencreature, a feeling of confidence might appear.

  Since Mazechazz came from a planet of super-heated desert and scrubresembling the Karoo of South Africa, the resemblance could have beenbettered, but it was well within the allowable limits set forth in theInner Mandate. And in Galactic Psychology, every trick counted. Forpersuasion was the chief weapon of the Sirian Combine. Outright forcewas absolutely forbidden, save by the aforesaid vote of the council.Every weapon in the book of persuasion was used to bring intelligentraces into the Combine, and persuasion is a thing of infinite variety.

  As these thoughts flashed through Powers' mind, he seated himself in aplain chair and adjusted the Universal Speaker to his mouth. Besidehim, on a more elaborate chair, tailored to fit his tail, Mazechazz didthe same, while the four Falsethsa seated themselves on low stools andtook similar instruments from the oblong table which separated themfrom the two Surveymen. Deep in the bowels of the ship, a gianttranslator switched on, to simultaneously translate and record themutually alien tongues as they were spoken. Adjustable extensions onthe speakers brought the sound to the bone of the skull. For differentlife forms, different instruments would have been necessary and wereprovided for.

  Mazechazz, as "captain," opened the proceedings.

  "Since this is our last session with you, we hope some fresh proposalshave occurred to your honorable council during your absence," hummedthe speaker through Powers' skull.

  He who was designated First among the council of the Mureess answered.

  "We have no new proposals, nor indeed had we ever any. Trade would bewelcome, but we vitally need nothing you or your Combine
havedescribed, captain. We have all the minerals we need and the GreatMother--he meant the sea--provides food. We will soon go into spaceourselves and meet as equals with you. We cannot tolerate what you callan 'observer,' who seems to us a spy, and not subject to our laws byyour own definition. That is all we have to say."

  That does it, thought Powers glumly. The cold--and entirelyaccurate--description of a Planetary representative of the SirianCombine was the final clincher. The intensely proud and chauvinisticFalsethsa would tolerate no interference.

  Mazechazz gave no indication that he had heard. He tried again.

  "In addition to trade and education, general advancement of thepopulace," murmured the mike, "have you considered defense?" He paused."Not all races who travel in space are friendly. A few are starklyinimical, hating all other forms of life. Could you defend yourselves,Honorable Sirs, against such?"

  It was obvious from