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Updated: May 24, 2025
"A very sensible suggestion," observed Calhoun. "We'll sit down and have a cup of coffee." To the girl he said, "I'll take you to Orede, since that's where you say you want to go." "I there's a boy there " Calhoun shook his head. "No," he said reprovingly. "Nearly all the mining colony had packed itself into the ship that came into Weald with everybody dead. But not all.
Dara was a planet of pariahs, excluded from the human race by those who had been conditioned to fear them. And now there was famine on Dara for the second time, and they were of no mind to starve quietly. There was food on the planet Orede, monstrous herds of cattle without owners. It was natural enough for Darians to build a ship or ships and try to bring food back to its starving people.
It would pay in ingots of irridium and uranium and tungsten, and gold if Weald wished it, for all damages Weald might claim. It would even pay indemnity for the miners of Orede, who had died by accident but perhaps in some sense through its fault. It would pay. But if it were bombed, Weald must spout atomic fire and the fleet of Weald would have no home planet to return to.
Most likely it's bad enough to make them risk landing on Orede to kill cattle and freeze beef to help. They've worked out " She gasped and sprang to her feet. She snatched out the tiny blaster in her pocket. She pointed it waveringly at him. "I have to kill you!" she cried desperately. "I I have to!" Calhoun reached out. She tugged despairingly at the blaster's trigger. Nothing happened.
Twice, during the remainder of the day, she faced him and opened her mouth as if to speak, and then turned away again. Calhoun shrugged. He had fairly definite ideas about her, by now. He carefully kept them tentative, but no girl born and raised on Weald would willingly go to Orede, with all of Weald believing that a shipload of miners preferred death to remaining there.
No, the ship wasn't intended to land plague on Weald." "Are you friendly to blueskins?" she asked uncertainly. "Within reason," said Calhoun, "I am a well-wisher to all the human race. You're slipping, though. When using the word blueskin you should say it uncomfortably, as if it were a word no refined person liked to pronounce. You don't. We'll land on Orede tomorrow, by the way.
One of the four very carefully brought them inside. "They're rations," said a second young man. "We don't go anywhere without rations except Orede." "Orede, yes. I think we were shooting at each other there," said Calhoun pleasantly. "Weren't we?" "Yes," said the young man. He was neither cordial nor antagonistic. He was impassive. Calhoun shrugged. "Then we can take off immediately.
A ship from Orede had come out of overdrive and lay dead in emptiness. It did not answer calls. It did not move in space. It floated eerily in no orbit around anything, going nowhere; doing nothing. And panic was the consequence. It seemed to Calhoun that the official handling of the matter accounted for the terror that he could feel building up.
They were young men who did not look quite as hungry as most Darians, but there was a reason for that. Their leader introduced himself and the others. They were the astrogators of the ship Dara had built to try to bring food from Orede. They were not good enough, said their self-appointed leader. They overshot their destination. They came out of overdrive too far off line.
"They're rations," said a second young man. "We don't go anywhere without rations, except Orede." "Orede, yes. I think we were shooting at each other there," said Calhoun pleasantly. "Weren't we?" "Yes," said the young man. He was neither cordial nor antagonistic. He was impassive. Calhoun shrugged. "Then we can take off immediately. Here's the communicator and there's the button.
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