Captain said. "How interesting. Anything else?I mean, what else can you do along those lines?"
"A few odds and ends," the wub said absently, staring around the room."A nice apartment you have here, Captain. You keep it quite neat. Irespect life-forms that are tidy. Some Martian birds are quite tidy.They throw things out of their nests and sweep them--"
"Indeed." The Captain nodded. "But to get back to the problem--"
"Quite so. You spoke of dining on me. The taste, I am told, is good. Alittle fatty, but tender. But how can any lasting contact be establishedbetween your people and mine if you resort to such barbaric attitudes?Eat me? Rather you should discuss questions with me, philosophy, thearts--"
The Captain stood up. "Philosophy. It might interest you to know that wewill be hard put to find something to eat for the next month. Anunfortunate spoilage--"
"I know." The wub nodded. "But wouldn't it be more in accord with yourprinciples of democracy if we all drew straws, or something along thatline? After all, democracy is to protect the minority from just suchinfringements. Now, if each of us casts one vote--"
The Captain walked to the door.
"Nuts to you," he said. He opened the door. He opened his mouth.
He stood frozen, his mouth wide, his eyes staring, his fingers still onthe knob.
The wub watched him. Presently it padded out of the room, edging pastthe Captain. It went down the hall, deep in meditation.
* * * * *
The room was quiet.
"So you see," the wub said, "we have a common myth. Your mind containsmany familiar myth symbols. Ishtar, Odysseus--"
Peterson sat silently, staring at the floor. He shifted in his chair.
"Go on," he said. "Please go on."
"I find in your Odysseus a figure common to the mythology of mostself-conscious races. As I interpret it, Odysseus wanders as anindividual, aware of himself as such. This is the idea of separation, ofseparation from family and country. The process of individuation."
"But Odysseus returns to his home." Peterson looked out the port window,at the stars, endless stars, burning intently in the empty universe."Finally he goes home."
"As must all creatures. The moment of separation is a temporary period,a brief journey of the soul. It begins, it ends. The wanderer returns toland and race...."
The door opened. The wub stopped, turning its great head.
Captain Franco came into the room, the men behind him. They hesitated atthe door.
"Are you all right?" French said.
"Do you mean me?" Peterson said, surprised. "Why me?"
Franco lowered his gun. "Come over here," he said to Peterson. "Get upand come here."
There was silence.
"Go ahead," the wub said. "It doesn't matter."
Peterson stood up. "What for?"
"It's an order."
Peterson walked to the door. French caught his arm.
"What's going on?" Peterson wrenched loose. "What's the matter withyou?"
Captain Franco moved toward the wub. The wub looked up from where it layin the corner, pressed against the wall.
"It is interesting," the wub said, "that you are obsessed with the ideaof eating me. I wonder why."
"Get up," Franco said.
"If you wish." The wub rose, grunting. "Be patient. It is difficult forme." It stood, gasping, its tongue lolling foolishly.
"Shoot it now," French said.
"For God's sake!" Peterson exclaimed. Jones turned to him quickly, hiseyes gray with fear.
"You didn't see him--like a statue, standing there, his mouth open. Ifwe hadn't come down, he'd still be there."
"Who? The Captain?" Peterson stared around. "But he's all right now."
They looked at the wub, standing in the middle of the room, its greatchest rising and falling.
"Come on," Franco said. "Out of the way."
The men pulled aside toward the door.
"You are quite afraid, aren't you?" the wub said. "Have I done anythingto you? I am against the idea of hurting. All I have done is try toprotect myself. Can you expect me to rush eagerly to my death? I am asensible being like yourselves. I was curious to see your ship, learnabout you. I suggested to the native--"
The gun jerked.
"See," Franco said. "I thought so."
The wub settled down, panting. It put its paw out, pulling its tailaround it.
"It is very warm," the wub said. "I understand that we are close to thejets. Atomic power. You have done many wonderful things withit--technically. Apparently, your scientific hierarchy is not equippedto solve moral, ethical--"
Franco turned to the men, crowding behind him, wide-eyed, silent.
"I'll do it. You can watch."
French nodded. "Try to hit the brain. It's no good for eating. Don't hitthe chest. If the rib cage shatters, we'll have to pick bones out."
"Listen," Peterson said, licking his lips. "Has it done anything? Whatharm has it done? I'm asking you. And anyhow, it's still mine. You haveno right to shoot it. It doesn't belong to you."
Franco raised his gun.
"I'm going out," Jones said, his face white and sick. "I don't want tosee it."
"Me, too," French said. The men straggled out, murmuring. Petersonlingered at the door.
"It was talking to me about myths," he said. "It wouldn't hurt anyone."
He went outside.
Franco walked toward the wub. The wub looked up slowly. It swallowed.
"A very foolish thing," it said. "I am sorry that you want to do it.There was a parable that your Saviour related--"
It stopped, staring at the gun.
"Can you look me in the eye and do it?" the wub said. "Can you do that?"
The Captain gazed down. "I can look you in the eye," he said. "Back onthe farm we had hogs, dirty razor-back hogs. I can do it."
Staring down at the wub, into the gleaming, moist eyes, he pressed thetrigger.
* * * * *
The taste was excellent.
They sat glumly around the table, some of them hardly eating at all. Theonly one who seemed to be enjoying himself was Captain Franco.
"More?" he said, looking around. "More? And some wine, perhaps."
"Not me," French said. "I think I'll go back to the chart room."
"Me, too." Jones stood up, pushing his chair back. "I'll see you later."
The Captain watched them go. Some of the others excused themselves.
"What do you suppose the matter is?" the Captain said. He turned toPeterson. Peterson sat staring down at his plate, at the potatoes, thegreen peas, and at the thick slab of tender, warm meat.
He opened his mouth. No sound came.
The Captain put his hand on Peterson's shoulder.
"It is only organic matter, now," he said. "The life essence is gone."He ate, spooning up the gravy with some bread. "I, myself, love to eat.It is one of the greatest things that a living creature can enjoy.Eating, resting, meditation, discussing things."
Peterson nodded. Two more men got up and went out. The Captain dranksome water and sighed.
"Well," he said. "I must say that this was a very enjoyable meal. Allthe reports I had heard were quite true--the taste of wub. Very fine.But I was prevented from enjoying this pleasure in times past."
He dabbed at his lips with his napkin and leaned back in his chair.Peterson stared dejectedly at the table.
The Captain watched him intently. He leaned over.
"Come, come," he said. "Cheer up! Let's discuss things."
He smiled.
"As I was saying before I was interrupted, the role of Odysseus in themyths--"
Peterson jerked up, staring.
"To go on," the Captain said. "Odysseus, as I understand him--"
Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from _Planet Stories_ July 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was rene
wed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.
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