The Star Beast by Robert A. Heinlein

Since she had not raised the subject he assumed that she did not know.

There were other sightseers in the air, and a crowd, not very thick, outside the barricade. No single wonder lasted long in Capital; its residents prided themselves on being blasé and in fact, the Hroshii were not fantastic compared with a dozen other friendly races, some of them members of the Federation.

The Hroshii swarmed around the base of their ship, doing unexplained things with artifacts they had erected. Jo’hnnie tried to estimate their number, found it like guessing beans in a bottle. Dozens, surely. . . how many more?

The taxi cruised just outside the point patrol of police air cars. Johnnie suddenly called out, “Hey! There’s Lummie!”

Betty craned her neck. “Where, Johnnie?”

“Corning into sight on the far side of their ship. There!” He turned to the driver. “Say, mister, could you put us around on the far side as close in as they’ll let you?”

The driver glanced at Cowen, who nodded. They swung around, the police sentries and came in toward the Hroshij craft from the far side. The driver picked a point between two police cars and back a little. Lummox could be seen clearly now, closely attended by a group of Hroshii and towering over them.

“I wish I had binox,” Johnnie complained. “I can’t really see.”

“Pair in the glove compartment,” offered the driver. Johnnie got them out. They were a simple optical type, without electronic magnification, but they brought Lummox up much closer. He stared into his friend’s face.

“How does Lummie look, Johnnie?”

“Okay. Kind of skinny, though. I wonder if they are feeding him right?”

“Mr. Greenberg tells me they aren’t feeding Lummie at all. I thought you knew?”

“What? They can’t do that to Lummie!”

“I don’t see what we can do about it.”

“Well. . .” John Thomas lowered the window and tried to get a better look. “Say, can’t you take it in closer? And lower maybe? I want to give him a good checking over.”

Cowen shook his head. The driver grumbled, “I don’t want no words with the cops.” But he did move in a little closer until he was lined up with the police cars.

Almost at once the speaker in the car’s overhead blared, “Hey, you! Number four eighty-four! Where do you think you’re going with that can? Drag it out of there!”

The driver muttered and started to obey. John Thomas, still with the glasses to his eyes, said, “Aw!”. . . then added, “I wonder if he can hear me? Lummie!” he shouted into the wind. “Oh Lummox!”

The Hroshia raised her head and looked wildly around.

Cowen grabbed John Thomas and reached for the window closure; But Johnnie shook free. “Oh, you go fry eggs!” he said angrily. “I’ve been pushed around long enough. Lummox! It’s Johnnie, boy! Over here! Come over this way. . .”

Cowen dragged him inside and slammed the window shut. “I knew we shouldn’t have come out. Driver, let’s get out of here.”

“Only too happy!”

“But hold it just back of the police lines. I want to check on this.”

“Make up your mind.”

It needed no binoculars to see what was happening. Lummox headed straight for the barrier, on a bee line with the taxi, scattering other Hroshii right and left. On reaching the barrier no attempt was made to flow over it; Lummox went through it.

“Jumping jeepers!” Cowen said softly. “But the tanglefoot will stop her.”

It did not. Lummox slowed down, but one mighty foot followed another, as if the charged air had been deep mud. With the persistence of a glacier the Hroshia was seeking the point most closely under the taxi.

And more Hroshii were pouring out the gap. They made still heavier weather of the immobilizing field, but still they came. As Cowen watched, Lummox broke free of the zone and came on at a gallop, with people scattering ahead of her.

Cowen snapped, “Myra, get through on another circuit to the military! I’ll call the office.”

Betty grabbed his sleeve. “No!”

‘Huh? You again! Shut up or you’ll get the back of my hand.”