Norton, Andre - Anthology Read Free Page B

some sleep," Pid said.
                   Obediently his two crewmen flattened out,
going immediately Shapeless. But Pid had a more
difficult time.
                  Everything looked too easy. Why wasn't the
atomic installation better guarded? Certainly the Men must have learned
something from the expeditions they had captured in the past. Or had they
killed them without asking any questions?
                   You couldn't tell what an alien would do.
                   Was that open gate a trap?
                   Wearily he flowed into a comfortable position
on the lumpy ground. Then he pulled himself together hastily.
                   He had gone Shapeless!
                   Comfort had nothing to do with duty, he
reminded himself, and firmly took a Pilot's Shape.
                   But Pilot's Shape wasn't constructed for
sleeping on damp, bumpy ground. Pid spent a restless
night, thinking of ships and wishing he were flying one.
     
                   Pid awoke in the
morning tired and ill-tempered. He nudged Ger.
                   "Let's get this over with," he said.
                   Ger flowed gaily to his feet.
                   "Come on, Ilg," Pid said angrily, looking around. "Wake up."
                   There was no reply.
                   "Ilg!" he called.
                   Still there was no reply.
                   "Help me look for him," Pid said to Ger. "He must be around here
somewhere."
                   Together they tested every bush, tree, log,
and shrub in the vicinity. But none of them was Ilg.
                   Pid began to feel a
cold panic run through him. What could have happened to the Radioman?
                   "Perhaps he decided to go through the
gate on his own," Ger suggested.
                   Pid considered the
possibility. It seemed unlikely. Ilg had never shown much initiative. He had
always been content to follow orders.
                   They waited. But mid-day came, and there was
still no sign of Ilg.
                   "We can't wait any longer," Pid said, and they started through the woods. Pid wondered if Ilg had tried to get through the gates on
his own. Those quiet types often concealed a foolhardy streak.
                   But there was nothing to show that Ilg had
been successful. He would have to assume that the Radioman was dead or captured
by the Men.
                   That left two of them to activate a Displacer.
                   And still he didn't know what had happened to
the other expeditions.
     
                   At the edge of the woods, Ger turned himself
into a facsimile of a Dog. Pid inspected him
carefully.
                   "A little less tail," he said.
                   Ger shortened his tail.
                   "More ears."
                   Ger lengthened his ears.
                   "Now even them up." He inspected the
finished product. As far as he could tell, Ger was perfect, from the tip of his
tail to his wet, black nose.
                   "Good luck," Pid said.
                   "Thanks." Cautiously Ger moved out
of the woods, walking in the lurching style of Dogs and Men. At the gate the
guard called to him. Pid held his breath.
                   Ger walked past the Man, ignoring him. The Man
started to walk over, and Ger broke into a run.
                   Pid shaped a pair of
strong legs for himself, ready to dash if Ger was caught.
                   But the guard turned back to his gate. Ger
stopped running immediately and strolled quietly toward the main gate.
                  Pid dissolved his
legs with a sigh of relief.
                   But the main door was closed! Pid hoped