“Simeon,” the little man said, “I don’t believe I have met our guest.”
“Professor Baker,” said Simeon, “this savage here claims he’s an Earthman and he says his name is Edward Danton.”
The professor glanced at Danton’s pareu, his tanned skin and callused feet. “You are an Earthman?” he asked Danton.
“Of course.”
“Who carved those stone statues up the beach?”
“I did,” Danton said, “but it was just therapy. You see—”
“Obviously primitive work. That stylization, those noses—”
“It was accidental, then. Look, a few months ago I left Earth in a spaceship—”
“How was it powered?” Professor Baker asked.
“By a GM subspatial torque converter.” Baker nodded, and Danton went on. “Well, I wasn’t interested in places like Korani or Heil V, and Hedonia seemed too rich for my blood. I passed up the Mining Worlds and the Farming Worlds, and had the government ship drop me here. The planet’s registered as New Tahiti, in my name. But I was getting pretty lonely, so I’m glad you folks came.”
“Well, Professor?” Simeon said. “What do you think?”
“Amazing,” Baker murmured, “truly amazing. His grasp of colloquial English bespeaks a fairly high level of intelligence, which points up a phenomenon frequently met with in savage societies, namely, an unusually well-developed power of mimicry. Our friend Danta (as his original, uncorrupted name must have been) will probably be able to tell us many tribal legends, myths, songs, dances—”
“But I’m an Earthman!”
“No, my poor friend,” the professor corrected gently, “you are not. Obviously you have met an Earthman. Some trader, I daresay, stopping for repairs.”
Jedekiah said, “There’s evidence that a spaceship once landed here briefly.”
“Ah,” said Professor Baker, beaming. “Confirmation of my hypothesis.”
“That was the government ship,” Danton explained. “It dropped me off here.”
“It is interesting to note,” said Professor Baker in his lecturing voice, “how his almost-plausible story lapses into myth at various crucial points. He claims that the ship was powered by a ‘GM subspatial torque converter’—which is nonsense syllabification, since the only deep-space drive is the Mikkelsen. He claims that the journey from Earth was made in a matter of months (since his untutored mind cannot conceive of a journey lasting years), although we know that no space drive, even theoretically, can achieve that.”
“It was probably developed after your people left Earth,” Danton said. “How long have you been gone?”
“The Hutter spaceship left Earth one hundred and twenty years ago,” Baker replied condescendingly. “We are mostly fourth and fifth generation. Note also,” Baker said to Simeon and Jedekiah, “his attempt to think up plausible place-names. Words such as Korani, Heil, Hedonia appeal to his sense of onomatopoeia. That there are no such places doesn’t disturb him.”
“There are!” Danton said indignantly.
“Where?” Jedekiah challenged. “Give me the coordinates.”
“How should I know? I’m no navigator. I think Heil was near Bootes, or maybe it was Cassiopeia. No, I’m pretty sure it was Bootes—”
“I’m sorry, friend,” said Jedekiah. “It may interest you to know that I’m the ship’s navigator. I can show you the star atlases and charts. Those places aren’t on them.”
“Your charts are a hundred years out of date!”
“Then so are the stars,” Simeon said. “Now, Danta, where is your tribe? Why do they hide from us? What are they planning?”
“This is preposterous,” Danton protested. “What can I do to convince you? I’m an Earthman. I was born and raised—”
“That’s enough,” Simeon cut in. “If there’s one thing we Hutters won’t stand for, it’s backtalk from natives. Out with it, Danta. Where are your people?”
“There’s only me,” Danton insisted.
“Tight-mouthed?” Jedekiah
“Professor Baker,” said Simeon, “this savage here claims he’s an Earthman and he says his name is Edward Danton.”
The professor glanced at Danton’s pareu, his tanned skin and callused feet. “You are an Earthman?” he asked Danton.
“Of course.”
“Who carved those stone statues up the beach?”
“I did,” Danton said, “but it was just therapy. You see—”
“Obviously primitive work. That stylization, those noses—”
“It was accidental, then. Look, a few months ago I left Earth in a spaceship—”
“How was it powered?” Professor Baker asked.
“By a GM subspatial torque converter.” Baker nodded, and Danton went on. “Well, I wasn’t interested in places like Korani or Heil V, and Hedonia seemed too rich for my blood. I passed up the Mining Worlds and the Farming Worlds, and had the government ship drop me here. The planet’s registered as New Tahiti, in my name. But I was getting pretty lonely, so I’m glad you folks came.”
“Well, Professor?” Simeon said. “What do you think?”
“Amazing,” Baker murmured, “truly amazing. His grasp of colloquial English bespeaks a fairly high level of intelligence, which points up a phenomenon frequently met with in savage societies, namely, an unusually well-developed power of mimicry. Our friend Danta (as his original, uncorrupted name must have been) will probably be able to tell us many tribal legends, myths, songs, dances—”
“But I’m an Earthman!”
“No, my poor friend,” the professor corrected gently, “you are not. Obviously you have met an Earthman. Some trader, I daresay, stopping for repairs.”
Jedekiah said, “There’s evidence that a spaceship once landed here briefly.”
“Ah,” said Professor Baker, beaming. “Confirmation of my hypothesis.”
“That was the government ship,” Danton explained. “It dropped me off here.”
“It is interesting to note,” said Professor Baker in his lecturing voice, “how his almost-plausible story lapses into myth at various crucial points. He claims that the ship was powered by a ‘GM subspatial torque converter’—which is nonsense syllabification, since the only deep-space drive is the Mikkelsen. He claims that the journey from Earth was made in a matter of months (since his untutored mind cannot conceive of a journey lasting years), although we know that no space drive, even theoretically, can achieve that.”
“It was probably developed after your people left Earth,” Danton said. “How long have you been gone?”
“The Hutter spaceship left Earth one hundred and twenty years ago,” Baker replied condescendingly. “We are mostly fourth and fifth generation. Note also,” Baker said to Simeon and Jedekiah, “his attempt to think up plausible place-names. Words such as Korani, Heil, Hedonia appeal to his sense of onomatopoeia. That there are no such places doesn’t disturb him.”
“There are!” Danton said indignantly.
“Where?” Jedekiah challenged. “Give me the coordinates.”
“How should I know? I’m no navigator. I think Heil was near Bootes, or maybe it was Cassiopeia. No, I’m pretty sure it was Bootes—”
“I’m sorry, friend,” said Jedekiah. “It may interest you to know that I’m the ship’s navigator. I can show you the star atlases and charts. Those places aren’t on them.”
“Your charts are a hundred years out of date!”
“Then so are the stars,” Simeon said. “Now, Danta, where is your tribe? Why do they hide from us? What are they planning?”
“This is preposterous,” Danton protested. “What can I do to convince you? I’m an Earthman. I was born and raised—”
“That’s enough,” Simeon cut in. “If there’s one thing we Hutters won’t stand for, it’s backtalk from natives. Out with it, Danta. Where are your people?”
“There’s only me,” Danton insisted.
“Tight-mouthed?” Jedekiah
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