II
The planet--as yet unnamed--had been surveyed by the spotting cruiserand pronounced suitable for colonization to nine-point-oh on a scale often. Of course, the nine-point figure was really only a pro tem rating.The cruiser hadn't been able to conduct a personal survey. That moredifficult undertaking would fall to the lot of the pre-col crew.
By the time the balance of the colonists arrived, in forty-five days,the survey party would have to have the initial focal point ready foroccupancy, and be in a position to supply all the data the colony wouldneed for survival.
It was the biological team's specific job not only to classify the floraand fauna of the planet, but to determine the adaptability of thecolonists to all existing conditions. Bradshaw might have encounteredsomething which would have helped tremendously with the latter category.But it was obvious he wouldn't be able to tell anyone about it.
However, an isolated tragic incident which held no bearing on thesuccess or failure of the colony could not be allowed to interrupt thesurvey. Gallifa impatiently dismissed the gentle nagging at the back ofhis mind and returned to the compound. By 1300, Solar Time, the camp wasconsidered to be on a standard operating basis.
Gallifa pressed young Samuels into service and finished loading thehalftrack. While they were waiting for MacFarland, senior geologist andacting executive of the camp, the natives of the planet appeared.
Gallifa saw them first, and more from surprise than fear hopped to theplatform beside the truck seat and swiveled the automatic pellet rifleuntil the muzzle covered the visitors.
"Samuels," he called softly. "Hey, Samuels, we have a welcomingcommittee."
Samuels stopped his work and peered over the back of the truck. He waswell trained. He didn't move an inch.
"Are they intelligent?" he asked. His view was curtailed slightly by atool box.
"I can't tell," Gallifa said quietly. "They're clannish, though. Theremust be fifteen, maybe twenty, in the group. Climb over the back of thetruck and take a look," he suggested.
Samuels vaulted lightly into the truck.
Gallifa looked quizzically at his aide. "Well, what do you make ofthem?" he asked. "Do you think they could have anything to do withBradshaw's sudden crackup?"
Samuels removed his hat and ran stubby fingers through his blond,short-cropped hair. "It's hard to tell," he answered. "But they surelook harmless to me. In fact, they look somewhat like a bunch of Celticlittle people."
Gallifa frowned. He didn't understand.
"You know," Samuels grinned. "Gnomes or elves with big ears. Large dwarfmodel."
Gallifa turned his attention back to the visitors and laughed. "I seewhat you mean," he agreed. "Ears and all. They do seem harmless. Butit's strange they aren't upset by us. They could be semi-intelligent."
Gallifa stepped gingerly from the truck. He really didn't expect to finda modicum of intelligence. The spotting cruiser had orbited around theplanet for more than seventy-two hours before the crew had beendeposited, and had almost definitely established the contrary.
On every Earth-type planet that had ever been discovered, if there wereintelligent life it had developed according to water-oxygen evolution;and the culture invariably parallelled _homo sapiens_. It was as if abusy and preoccupied nature had hit upon a pattern which worked andnever bothered to change the mold. There were minor deviations, ofcourse, biologically and structurally, but never culture-wise.
The swift, but amazingly discerning survey, had revealed absolutely noevidence of any intelligence on the planet. There were no artifacts,dwellings, roads, dams, bridges--primitive or otherwise. Any stage ofculture would have been observed by the cruiser immediately. The planetseemed ideally suited to colonization.
Gallifa, the trained biologist, carefully studied the creatures. Thedwarf-like gnomes, as Samuels had dubbed them, might be consideredcaricatures of humanity.
They were about four feet high--bipeds, and covered with a soft, pinkishfur. They walked erect; normally so, Gallifa could tell, because theirupper limbs were too short for knuckling and were not jointed correctlyfor moving on all fours. They had five digited limbs, both upper andlower, just as did all higher life forms ever discovered on any planet.Their features were without hair and of a fairy story-humanoid type.With their large, floppy ears, and round-solemn eyes they were veryunusual gnomes indeed.
Gallifa spoke to them quietly, trying a few standard low-ordercommunication and classification tricks. The visitors--somehow hecouldn't think of them as base animals--made no response. They didn'tquite seem to fit any classification niche. The creatures faintlypuzzled Gallifa. The best he could do was: Low order intelligence andprobably harmless. Cultural development, nil.
As if to prove his rationalizations, the creatures suddenly seemed toignore the humans. They walked unconcernedly past the truck and attackedthe vegetation on the edge of the clearing. Every so often one wouldoverturn a small rock and grub for the exposed insects.
Gallifa observed their broad, dull teeth. They weren't, he decided,omnivorous.
Samuels interrupted his train of thought. "Do you think they will giveus any trouble?" he asked.
"No," Gallifa affirmed slowly. "Not materially, anyway. But it's goingto be interesting, and a little difficult, to study this species. Theydon't seem to be ecologically feasible. Look at them. They are small andweak. They don't have claws, not even sheathed--and they are definitelytoo low in the evolutionary scale to know anything of weapons. Theirfeet obviously aren't constructed for climbing, and their limbs are tooshort and aren't planned right for running."
He removed his hat and scratched his head. "In short," he finished,"they are an unprotected species, obviously _unable_ to protectthemselves."
"That's odd enough," Samuels agreed. "But maybe they don't needprotection. Maybe they don't have any natural enemies."
"On a raw planet?" Gallifa retorted. "That's not very likely."
"Perhaps I can catch a few for the lab," Samuels suggested. "I'll workup a behavior pattern analysis."
"That shouldn't be too hard," Gallifa said. "They certainly aren'tafraid of us. You do that," he added suddenly. "I'm going to pick up Macand be on my way. Otherwise, we'll never get out of here."
"Good hunting," Samuels said. "I'll have a couple of these fat littlespecimens neatly catalogued for you when you get back."
Gallifa laughed and headed the truck across the compound.