Hansen knew the road was near. He easily spotted Earth lichens in bare patches in the woods—Earth and native plants were like oil and water to each other.
Carefully, he approached to get his bearings. Traffic was light—settlers were still in shock from the Xobon raid. “Two miles east. We should be there by mid-day.”
“There’s a meadow just behind us. Let’s travel in that,” thought Melene.
They went east. Melene grazed in the open meadow while Hansen walked fairly easily just inside the brush line along the wood’s edge.
“This is a nice world, Melene. It reminds me of Ohlandio in springtime.”
“Yes. It is a nice place, this Ohlandio.”
“The trees fresh with leaf, the streams running, the low white clouds, the warm breeze. Very nice. … Would you like to visit Ohlandio sometime?”
“There is no reason for me to. I can see it in you. It is all you’ve said, and more. Such a nice place.”
“You have no interest in travel?”
“Yes, I like travel. It takes me from one rich field to another. But to travel as you do—that, until now, has been beyond my imagination. And I still can’t understand why you do it.”
“But we’ve gained so much by doing it.”
“That’s true. It’s part of being a tool-user.”
They came to where the meadow spread across the road. On a rise, a quarter mile away, on the far side of the meadow, was the communications building. It was small and unmanned.
“We’re gonna hafta make a run for it, pilgrim,” whispered Hansen under his breath.
“Who’s that?”
“Huh? Oh, John Wayne, a movie star.”
“Ohh, what a man!”
“Easy, sweetheart, he isn’t real.”
“You can make up things like this, this movie star?”
“Yes. Now I’m trying how to figure out how to get across this field safely. Can you pipe down a moment.”
“Just carry me, Hansen, dahling. I’ll protect you!”
“What’s gotten into you?”
“Your movies. … Those memories. … They’re so, so vivid!”
“Christ!”
“Really, just carry me on your back like you’ve been doing. I’ll provide camouflage if we need it.”
“All right. I can’t think of anything better.”
Melene quickly crawled on.
“And think of John Wayne.”
The Harpupon gave him a warm thrill that straightened his back and puffed his chest. Hansen strode through the meadow like he owned the place.
Three-fourths across, he started singing.
“Zippidy doo daa, zippidy aay. My, my, my, what a wonderful da— Shit!”
An aircar was coming. He ran two steps, then dropped to his knees and froze.
“Do your stuff, Melene.”
The aircar traced the road and didn’t stop. Much more soberly, Hansen continued across the meadow to the building.
It was locked.
“Well, the gun didn’t work; the communicator didn’t work; how about the key?”
It worked. Hansen rushed to the control console. “In a few seconds, baby, I’ll have a link, and we’ll call in the cavalry.”
“Goodbye, Hansen,” Melene slipped off, and headed for the door.
“Hey! Where are you going?”
“Thanks to you, Hansen, we Harpupons now understand the problem we face. You don’t know how helpful you’ve been. And you don’t know how exciting it’s been to share your thoughts. But now our time together must end. You’re a tool-maker, and I’m of this world. It’s best we end our relation now.”
There was a hint of sorrow in Melene’s thoughts.
“What about the Xobons?”
“We can deal with them. They knew less than you, and we’ve reached Tlurg. He’s the one who has driven this expedition, the one who believes in us. But he doesn’t now, any more than you will.”
“Wait!”
“Good bye, Hansen.”
The Harpupon spread to face Hansen fully. He was paralyzed. The Harpupon closed up, and scuttled out the door—looking like a rock. It grazed.
Hansen moved again, and finished making the connection.
“Hello Federation? This is John Hansen. I want to report we’ve had a bit of a raid here by the Xobons. They’re busy shooting up the place, and we could sure use some help. … You’ve heard about it? Excellent! A couple hours? Excellent! Yes, I’m the one looking for Harpupons. … Not a thing. Just another story, I guess. But when I get back, I’ll tell you some strange dreams I’ve been having about them.”
Even non-tool users can have their strengths.
The End