mammalian
characteristic perished with our solar system, though."
"That is not true -- or it need not be true."
Everett stared at the alien, wishing for the thousandth time that he could
read that dark expression. Fanu went on, "I have observed your race in
undress, compared with the information from your study reels -- from your
ship -- the material you brought to me so graciously -- I cannot thank you
-- "
"Yes, yes!" he broke in. Fanu was so damned polite. He liked the alien,
but the only one of the Earthmen who really got along with him perfectly
was Tsen, who was used to all this overdone courtesy.
"Forgive me, what I mean is your . . . two sexual groups are so close
together . . ."
Everett's eyes widened. Then he laughed, embarrassed. "You just lost me.
I mean, I don't understand your statement, Fanu."
"Your two sexual types are so exceptionally similar -- "
"Oh, lord, vive la difference!" Everett laughed aloud, and some of the men
in the valley glanced up, curious, pleased to see their captain laughing
with the omnipotent, knowing alien. "If you mean our -- females had two
arms, two legs, and a head, yes, we were very similar, but --"
Fanu regarded John with compassion. "No, not that. I mean that, compared to
our race, your own sexual differences seem minute. It would be a relatively
simple matter to convert one to the other. I recall in the tapes several
instances in which this sort of change occurred naturally, and others in
which the changes were brought about medically."
Everett knew his eyes were bulging, and he felt the anger rising in his
throat. He beat it down. Fanu wouldn't know. He could read about the taboos
of another race without fully appreciating . . . in spite of his revulsion,
Everett gave a sputtering laugh. "Yes, yes, I see your point, Fanu. It's an
interesting theory, but even if it would work, it, well, it wouldn't work
that way."
"Why?"
"Well, it's a matter of -- my men wouldn't stand for it. We're not guinea
pigs," he finished, testily.
"No." The voice was compassionate again. "You are a race doomed to
extinction, with a possible way out. My race had no such second chance."
Fanu glided away toward the laboratory and Everett stared after him, one
thought drumming in his mind. "My God! He wasn't theorizing! He -- he meant it!"
The slight noise finally made him look up. He hadn't heard anyone come in,
and started involuntarily at seeing Chord's great hulk before him.
"Sorry to disturb you, Cap'n."
"That isn't necessary, Chord. What can I do for you?"
The big man smiled sheepishly. "Hard to break habits, sir. Guess I never
will." Despite his size and demeanor, Chord was not stupid, though hampered
by poor education and embarrassment for his giant clumsy body. Now he
shifted uneasily from foot to foot as he mumbled. "I -- guess I've been
picked out as a representative, sir. For -- for the men."
"Gripe committee? Look, I'm not really your superior any more, Chord.
We're all together now."
"Yes, sir, but -- you're still Captain."
Everett sighed, waited for the big man to continue. "Some -- some of us
would like to build private quarters, sir. I mean -- not fights, or anything
like that, we just -- we'd like some privacy -- you know -- homes, sir,
like -- "
"Like back on Earth?" Chord nodded dumbly and Everett said, "Well, I see no
objection to that. You didn't need to consult me."
"It's just -- well, sir, some of the guys thought you might get the wrong
idea, sir."
"Wrong idea?" Everett asked stupidly, startled by Chord's red face.
"Well, you know, a couple of men living alone. It's nothing like that, sir.
Honest."
He waited until Chord left before he permitted the embarrassed amusement
to boil over into his face; and knew that the amusement covered some strange
unease that was almost fear.
"He actually worried about it," he laughed, telling Fanu later.
"Shouldn't he?" Fanu inquired gently. "John, don't stare. I'm not sure of
the word in