Give them their
presents and send them home, Paul."
"Sheath-knives; they'll have to be shown how sharp they are,"
he suggested. "Red bandannas. And costume jewelry."
"How about something to eat, Bennet?" Meillard asked Fayon.
"Extee Three, and C-H trade candy," Fayon said. Field Ration,
Extraterrestrial Service, Type Three, could be eaten by anything
with a carbon-hydrogen metabolism, and so could the trade candy.
"Nothing else, though, till we have some idea what goes on inside
them."
Dorver thought the six members of the delegation would be persons
of special consequence, and should have something extra. That was
probably so. Dorver was as quick to pick up clues to an alien social
order as he was, himself, to deduce a culture pattern from a few
artifacts. He and Lillian went back to the landing craft to collect
the presents.
Everybody, horn-detail, armed guard and all, got one ten-inch bowie
knife and sheath, a red bandanna neckcloth, and a piece of flashy
junk jewelry. The (town council? prominent citizens? or what?) also
received a colored table-spread apiece; these were draped over their
shoulders and fastened with two-inch plastic pins advertising the
candidacy of somebody for President of the Federation Member Republic
of Venus a couple of elections ago.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25