While he hesitated, a Callean came rocketing out of the entrance and pulled to a smooth, sudden stop.
“You are not to get in the way,” he said, in exactly the same piping singsong voice the other had used.
‘Tell me where to go and I’ll stay out of your way,”
Oberholzer said. “Where is the man from the warship that you didn’t dissect?”
“In Gnitonis, halfway around the world from here.”
Oberholzer felt his shoulders sag, but the Callean was not through. “You should have told me that you wanted him,” he said. “I will have him brought to you. Is there else that you need?”
“Water,” Oberholzer said hopefully.
‘That will be brought. There is no water you can use here.
Stay out of the cities; you will be in the way.”
“How else can we eat?”
“Food will be brought. You should make your needs known; you are of low intelligence and helpless. I forbid nothing, I know you are harmless, and your life is short in any case; but I do not want you to get in the way.”
The repetition was beginning to tell on Oberholzer, and the frustration created by hig having tried to use a battering ram against a freely swinging door was compounded by his mental picture of what the two Momma’s boys would say when the squad got back.
“Thank you,” he said, and bringing the Sussmann into line, he trained it on the Callean’s squidlike head and squeezed the trigger.
It was at once established that the CallSans were as mortal to Sussmann flamers as is all other flesh and blood; this one made a very satisfactory corpse. Unsatisfied, the flamer bolt went on to burn a long slash in the wall of the nest, not far above the entrance. Oberholzer grounded the rifle and waited to see what would happen next; his men hefted their weapons tensely.