Bolden's Pets

  Produced by Adam Buchbinder and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  Transcriber's Note: This e-text was produced from Galaxy ScienceFiction, October, 1955. Extensive research did not reveal anyevidence that the U. S. copyright on this publication was renewed.

  Bolden's Pets

  By F. L. WALLACE

  Illustrated by DIEHL

  _The price of life was a life for a life--which was all the reward thevictim looked for!_

  His hands were shaking as he exhibited the gifts. If he were on Earth,he would be certain it was the flu; in the Centaurus system, kranken.But this was Van Daamas, so Lee Bolden couldn't say what he had. Manhadn't been here long enough to investigate the diseases with any degreeof thoroughness. There were always different hazards to overcome as newplanets were settled.

  But whatever infection he had, Bolden was not greatly concerned as hecounted out the gifts. He had felt the onset of illness perhaps an hourbefore. When he got back to the settlement he'd be taken care of. Thatwas half a day's flight from here. The base was equipped with the bestmedical facilities that had been devised.

  He stacked up the gifts to make an impressive show: five pairs of radargoggles, seven high-velocity carbines, seven boxes of ammunition. Thiswas the natives' own rule and was never to be disregarded--it had to bean odd number of gifts.

  The Van Daamas native gazed impassively at the heap. He carried a ratherstrange bow and a quiver was strapped to his thigh. With one exception,the arrows were brightly colored, mostly red and yellow. Bolden supposedthis was for easy recovery in case the shot missed. But there was alwaysone arrow that was stained dark blue. Bolden had observed thisbefore--no native was ever without that one somber-looking arrow.

  The man of Van Daamas stood there and the thin robe that was noprotection against the elements rippled slightly in the chill current ofair that flowed down the mountainside. "I will go talk with the others,"he said in English.

  "Go talk," said Bolden, trying not to shiver. He replied in nativespeech, but a few words exhausted his knowledge and he had to revert tohis own language. "Take the gifts with you. They are yours, no matterwhat you decide."

  The native nodded and reached for a pair of goggles. He tried them on,looking out over fog and mist-shrouded slopes. These people of VanDaamas needed radar less than any race Bolden knew of. Living bypreference in mountains, they had developed a keenness of vision thatenabled them to see through the perpetual fog and mist far better thanany Earthman. Paradoxically it was the goggles they appreciated most.Extending their sight seemed more precious to them than powerfulcarbines.

  The native shoved the goggles up on his forehead, smiling with pleasure.Noticing that Bolden was shivering, he took his hands and examined them."Hands sick?" he queried.

  "A little," said Bolden. "I'll be all right in the morning."

  The native gathered up the gifts. "Go talk," he repeated as he wentaway.

  * * * * *

  Lee Bolden sat in the copter and waited. He didn't know how muchinfluence this native had with his people. He had come to negotiate, butthis might have been because he understood English somewhat better thanthe others.

  A council of the natives would make the decision about working for theEarthmen's settlement. If they approved of the gifts, they probablywould. There was nothing to do now but wait--and shiver. His hands weregetting numb and his feet weren't much better.

  Presently the native came out of the fog carrying a rectangular wickerbasket. Bolden was depressed when he saw it. One gift in return forgoggles, carbines, ammunition. The rate of exchange was not favorable.Neither would the reply be.

  The man set the basket down and waited for Bolden to speak. "The peoplehave talked?" asked Bolden.

  "We have talked to come," said the native, holding out his fingers. "Infive or seven days, we come."

  It was a surprise, a pleasant one. Did one wicker basket equal so manyfine products of superlative technology? Apparently it did. The nativeshad different values. To them, one pair of goggles was worth more thanthree carbines, a package of needles easily the equivalent of a box ofammunition.

  "It's good you will come. I will leave at once to tell them at thesettlement," said Bolden. There was something moving in the basket, butthe weave was close and he couldn't see through it.

  "Stay," the man advised. "A storm blows through the mountains."

  "I will fly around the storm," said Bolden.

  If he hadn't been sick he might have accepted the offer. But he had toget back to the settlement for treatment. On a strange planet you nevercould tell what might develop from a seemingly minor ailment. Besideshe'd already been gone two days searching for this tribe in theinterminable fog that hung over the mountains. Those waiting at the basewould want him back as soon as he could get there.

  "Fly far around," said the man. "It is a big storm." He took up thebasket and held it level with the cabin, opening the top. An animalsquirmed out and disappeared inside.

  Bolden looked askance at the eyes that glowed in the dim interior. Hehadn't seen clearly what the creature was and he didn't like the idea ofhaving it loose in the cabin, particularly if he had to fly through astorm. The man should have left it in the basket. But the basket plusthe animal would have been two gifts--and the natives never consideredanything in even numbers.

  "It will not hurt," said the man. "A gentle pet."

  * * * * *

  As far as he knew, there were no pets and very few domesticated animals.Bolden snapped on the cabin light. It was one of those mysteriouscreatures every tribe kept in cages near the outskirts of their camps.What they did with them no one knew and the natives either found itimpossible to explain or did not care to do so.

  It seemed unlikely that the creatures were used for food and certainlythey were not work animals. And in spite of what this man said, theywere not pets either. No Earthman had ever seen a native touch them norhad the creatures ever been seen wandering at large in the camp. Anduntil now, none had been permitted to pass into Earth's possession. Thescientists at the settlement would regard this acquisition with delight.

  "Touch it," said the native.

  Bolden held out his trembling hand and the animal came to him with alertand friendly yellow eyes. It was about the size of a rather small dog,but it didn't look much like one. It resembled more closely a tinyslender bear with a glossy and shaggy cinnamon coat. Bolden ran hishands through the clean-smelling fur and the touch warmed his fingers.The animal squirmed and licked his fingers.

  "It has got your taste," said the native. "Be all right now. It isyours." He turned and walked into the mist.

  Bolden got in and started the motors while the animal climbed into theseat beside him. It was a friendly thing and he couldn't understand whythe natives always kept it caged.

  He headed straight up, looking for a way over the mountains to avoid theimpending storm. Fog made it difficult to tell where the peaks were andhe had to drop lower, following meandering valleys. He flew as swiftlyas limited visibility would allow, but he hadn't gone far when the stormbroke. He tried to go over the top of it, but this storm seemed to haveno top. The region was incompletely mapped and even radar wasn't muchhelp in the tremendous electrical display that raged around the ship.

  His arms ached as he clung to the controls. His hands weren't actuallycold, they were numb. His legs were leaden. The creature crept closer tohim and he had to nudge it away. Momentarily the distraction cleared hishead. He couldn't put it off any longer. He had to land and wait out thestorm--if he could find a place to land.

  Flexing his hands until he worked some feeling into them, he inched theship lower. A canyon wall loomed at one side an
d he had to veer away andkeep on looking.

  Eventually he found his refuge--a narrow valley where the force of thewinds was not extreme--and he set the land anchor. Unless somethingdrastic happened, it would hold.

  * * * * *

  He made the seat into a bed, decided he was too tired to eat, and wentdirectly to sleep. When he awakened, the storm was still raging and thelittle animal was snoozing by his side.

  He felt well enough to eat. The native hadn't explained what the animalshould be fed, but it accepted everything Bolden offered. Apparently itwas as omnivorous as Man. Before lying down again, he made the otherseat into a bed, although it didn't seem to matter. The creaturepreferred being as close to him as it could get and he didn't object.The warmth was comforting.

  Alternately dozing and waking he waited out the