“Yes, that’s about how the Veen took it. So they decided to cut the Terrans down to where they would no longer be even an indirect threat.”
“Seems they did,” said Alo, gazing up at the gold-flecked Shield sky.
The Professor spared a glance the same way. “Yes, it would seem so.” He stared off in the direction of the commander’s post where a force-lift was depositing a ground car. “But it’s enlightening to keep one other little thing in mind.”
“Which is?” said Alo belligerently.
“There are no more Veen.”
Survey had detected what appeared to be a small dip between the foothills. It was, therefore, decided that a party consisting of Commander Rappan, Navigator Zinin, Communicator Phrnnx, a philologist, a xenologist, and, of course, the Professor would take a ground car down to the structure and attempt a First Contact. Despite vigorous protests, Commander Second Alo was restricted to acting captain.
“Give the crew land leave,” instructed Rappan. “Shifts of the usual six. Maintain a semialert guard at all times until further-notice. I know this place looks about as dangerous as a mufti-bug after stuffing, but I intend to take no chances. At first sign of hostilities, raise ship and get out. That is a first-degree order. You have others on board who can operate the remote Shield equipment. In the event that all is not what it seems, I don’t want to leave these creatures a way out.”
“Noted and integrated, sir,” replied Alo stiffly. And then in a lower voice, “Watch yourself, sir. This place smells funny to me, and I am not referring to the nitro in the atmosphere, either!”