Store of the Worlds: The Stories of Robert Sheckley Read Free Page A

arrival of the nonhumans, Hum announced that he could communicate with them, after a fashion.
    â€œThey say they come from far away,” Hum told the village that evening. “They say that they are bisexual, like us, and that they are humans, like us. They say there are reasons for their different appearance, but I couldn’t understand that part of it.”
    â€œIf we accept them as humans,” Mishill said, “then everything they say is true.”
    The rest of the villagers shook in agreement.
    â€œThey say that they don’t want to disturb our life, but would be very interested in observing it. They want to come to the village and look around.”
    â€œI see no reason why not,” one of the younger men said.
    â€œNo!” Cordovir shouted. “You are letting in evil. These monsters are insidious. I believe that they are capable of—telling an untruth!” The other elders agreed, but when pressed, Cordovir had no proof to back up this vicious accusation.
    â€œAfter all,” Sil pointed out, “just because they look like monsters, you can’t take it for granted that they think like monsters as well.”
    â€œI can,” Cordovir said, but he was outvoted.
    Hum went on. “They have offered me—or us, I’m not sure which, various metal objects which they say will do various things. I ignored this breach of etiquette, since I considered they didn’t know any better.”
    Cordovir nodded. The youngster was growing up. He was showing, at long last, that he had some manners. “They want to come to the village tomorrow.”
    â€œNo!” Cordovir shouted, but the vote was against him.
    â€œOh, by the way,” Hum said, as the meeting was breaking up. “They have several females among them. The ones with the very red mouths are females. It will be interesting to see how the males kill them. Tomorrow is the twenty-fifth day since they came.”
    The next day the things came to the village, crawling slowly and laboriously over the cliffs. The villagers were able to observe the extreme brittleness of their limbs, the terrible awkwardness of their motions.
    â€œNo beauty whatsoever,” Cordovir muttered. “And they all look alike.”
    In the village the things acted without any decency. They crawled into huts and out of huts. They jabbered at the surplus female pen. They picked up eggs and examined them. They peered at the villagers through black things and shiny things.
    In midafternoon, Rantan, an elder, decided it was about time he killed his woman. So he pushed the thing who was examining his hut aside and smashed his female to death.
    Instantly, two of the things started jabbering at each other, hurrying out of the hut.
    One had the red mouth of a female.
    â€œHe must have remembered it was time to kill his own woman,” Hum observed. The villagers waited, but nothing happened.
    â€œPerhaps,” Rantan said, “perhaps he would like someone to kill her for him. It might be the custom of their land.”
    Without further ado Rantan slashed down the female with his tail.
    The male creature made a terrible noise and pointed a metal stick at Rantan. Rantan collapsed, dead.
    â€œThat’s odd,” Mishill said. “I wonder if that denotes disapproval?”
    The things from the metal object—eight of them—were in a tight little circle. One was holding the dead female, and the rest were pointing the metal sticks on all sides. Hum went up and asked them what was wrong.
    â€œI don’t understand,” Hum said, after he spoke with them. “They used words I haven’t learned. But I gather that their emotion is one of reproach.”
    The monsters were backing away. Another villager, deciding it was about time, killed his wife who was standing in a doorway. The group of monsters stopped and jabbered at each other. Then they motioned to Hum.
    Hum’s body motion was incredulous after he