Quozl by Alan Dean Foster Page A

image skewed wildly with her movements, the recorder’s stabilizer still held it steady enough to show the advancing Burden-carries-Far, the explosion at the end of the metal tube, and Looks’s response.
    Several of the Seniors required immediate medical treatment. There was a pause before the recording resumed, but the journey back to the survey site was all anticlimax.
    When everyone had recovered sufficiently from the initial shock, the encounter sequence was replayed at normal speed, then slowly, and then was rotated to provide as many different perspectives on the action as possible. Only then did Lifts-with-Shout lean toward his pickup and speak.
    â€œYou are certain there were no other natives in the vicinity? That neither you nor the ship was observed?”
    â€œWe cannot be certain of anything,” Looks-at-Charts pointed out, “but we have discussed the matter and believe that except for the single Shirazian we encountered the area was uninhabitated. It was a solitary encounter that took place in a solitary dwelling out of line of hearing and sight of any other Shirazian habitation. In that respect we were fortunate.”
    â€œWhat of the world itself?” The Captain’s voice was a grim whisper.
    Stands-while-Sitting rose. “The water is mineral-rich but drinkable. The air is fresh and clean and the proportions conform to measurements made from orbit. As you saw, the smaller native flora and fauna appear harmless enough. The trees are unique, but they are true trees, as true as any on Quozlene. They are soothing to touch and to smell. This is a world worthy of worship. A world meant for Quozl.”
    â€œExcept we didn’t get here first,” muttered Lifts-with-Shout. He stared at Looks-at-Charts. “You didn’t by any chance bring the alien weapon back with you?”
    â€œNo.” Wondering if they’d made a serious mistake, he glanced over and down at Stands-while-Sitting for support. One ear flicked briefly in his direction and he relaxed a little. “We thought it important to leave the native’s dwelling as undisturbed as possible.”
    â€œIt is unlikely that anyone,” Stands-while-Sitting added, “would connect the native’s disappearance with the presence of off world visitors, but we thought it best not to leave reason for speculation.”
    â€œYou did the right thing.” Both of the Landing Supervisor’s ears drooped sadly. “But in this instance I wish you’d done the wrong thing.”
    Looks-at-Charts replied calmly. “I had time to make a thorough inspection of the device. It hurls small metal projectiles with penetrating force. Primitive, but it kills as efficiently as any modern weapon. The devices the natives employ against one another are, I am told by staff, similiar except in scale.”
    â€œHorrible,” muttered one of the senior staff members.
    â€œUncivilized,” sniffed another.
    â€œOnce we called such actions part of our own civilization, until we gained the wisdom of the Samizene and matured.” Stream-cuts-Through surveyed the chamber. “This is the first non-Quozl intelligence that has ever been encountered. Let us try not to judge them by our own standards.” There was silence in the chamber, polite silence as they waited.
    â€œObviously there can be no violence. That violence has already occurred is regrettable. Two intelligent beings have been slain.” Looks-at-Charts had already apologized profusely. He did so anew, and the staff waited approvingly until he’d concluded.
    â€œWe cannot fight and we cannot run.” The Captain turned her attention to Flies-by-Tail. “Were you able to tell if you were tracked either on arrival or upon departure?”
    â€œWe observed no natives in our immediate vicinity,” the survey pilot replied, “and none of our sensing devices was activated. That is not proof, but it is encouraging. The area we