Potential Enemy Read online

* * * *

  Markham Gray followed the matter with more than average interest, aftertheir arrival at the New Albuquerque spaceport. Not that averageinterest wasn't high.

  Finally man had come in contact with another intelligence. He had beendreading it, fearing it, for decades; now it was here. Another life formhad conquered space, and, seemingly, had equipment, in some respects atleast, superior to humanity's.

  The court martial of Captain Roger Post had been short and merciless.Free access to the trial had been given to the press and telviz systems,and the newscasts had carried it in its entirety, partially to stress tothe public mind the importance of the situation, and partially as awarning to other spacemen.

  Post had stood before the raised dais upon which were seated SupSpaceComMichell and four other high-ranking officers and heard the chargeread--failure to attack the alien craft, destroy it, and thus preventthe aliens--wherever they might be from--returning to their own worldand reporting the presence of man in the galaxy.

  Markham Gray, like thousands of others, had sat on the edge of his chairin the living room of his small suburban home, and followed the trialclosely on his telviz.

  SupSpaceCom Michell had been blunt and ruthless. He had rapped out,bitingly, "Roger Post, as captain of the _Neuve Los Angeles_, why didyou not either destroy the alien craft, or, if you felt it too strongfor your ship, why did you not blast off into space, luring it away fromyour home planet?"

  Post said hesitantly, "I didn't think it necessary, sir. His attitudewas--well, of peace. It was as if we were two ships that had met bychance and dipped their flags in the old manner and passed on to theirdifferent destinations. They even were able to telviz us a message."

  The SupSpaceCom snapped, "That was undoubtedly a case of telepathy. Thealien is equipped in some manner to impose thoughts upon the humanbrain. You _thought_ the telviz was used; actually the alien wasn'tspeaking Amer-English, he was simply forcing thoughts into your minds."

  Markham Gray, watching and listening to this over his set, shook hishead in dissatisfaction. As always, the military mind was dull andunreceptive. The ridiculousness of expecting Post to blast off intospace in an attempt to fool the other craft in regard to his homeplanet was obvious. The whole affair had taken place within the solarsystem; obviously the alien would know that one of Sol's nine majorplanets was mankind's home. Finding out which one wouldn't be toodifficult a job.

  Roger Post was saying hesitantly, "Then it is assumed that the aliencraft wasn't friendly?"

  SupSpaceCom Michell indicated his disgust with an impatient flick of hishand. "Any alien is a potential enemy, Post; that should be elementary.And a potential enemy is an enemy in fact. Even though these aliensmight seem amiable enough today, how do we know they will be in thefuture--possibly in the far future? There can be no friendship withaliens. We can't afford to have neighbors; we can't afford to beencircled by enemies."

  "Nor even friends?" Captain Post had asked softly.

  Michell glared at his subordinate. "That is what it amounts to, Captain;and the thing to remember is that they feel the same way. They must!They must seek us out and destroy us completely and as quickly aspossible. By the appearance of things, and partially through yournegligence, they've probably won the first round. They know ourlocation; we don't know theirs."

  The supreme commander of Earth's space forces dropped that point. "Letus go back again. When you received this telepathic message--or whateverit was--what was your reaction? Did it seem friendly, domineering, orwhat?"

  Roger Post stood silent for a moment. Finally he answered, "Sir, I stillthink it was the telviz, rather than a telepathic communication, butthe ... the tone of voice seemed to give me the impression of pitying."

  "Pitying!" Michell ejaculated.

  The captain was nervous but determined. "Yes, sir. I had the distinctfeeling that the being that sent the message felt sorry for us."

  The SupSpaceCom's face had gone red with indignation.

  * * * * *

  It was three years before another of the aliens was sighted. Threehurried, crowded, harassed years during which all the Solar System'sresources were devoted to building and arming a huge space fleet andrushing space defenses. The total wars of the Twentieth Century paled incomparison to the all out efforts made to prepare for this conflict.

  The second view of the alien ship was similar to the first. This, timethe _Pendleton_, a four-man scout returning to the Venus base after apatrol in the direction of Sirius, held the intruder in its viewer for afull five minutes. Once again, no estimation of its distance nor sizecould be made. All instruments pertaining to such detection seemed tofail to function properly.

  And again the alien had sent a message--seemingly, at least, by telviz._We are no danger to you, mankind. Seek your destiny in peace. Yourtroubles are from within._

  The _Pendleton_ would have attempted to follow the strange craft, buther fuel tanks were nearly dry and she had to proceed to Venus. Hercaptain's report made a sensation.

  In a way, the whole business had been a good thing for Markham Gray. Asa free lancing journalist, he'd had a considerable advantage. First, hewas more than usually informed on space travel and the problems relatingto it, second, he had been present at--in fact, had made himself--thefirst sighting of the aliens.

  His articles were in continuous demand in both magazines and newspapersupplements; editors clamored for additional material from hisvoco-typer. There was but one complaint against his copy--it wasn'talarmist enough, sensational enough. Humanity had been whipped into astate of hysteria, an emotional binge, and humanity loved it.

  And it was there that Markham Gray refused to go along. He had agreedwith poor Captain Post, now serving a life sentence in the Martianprison camps; there had been no sign of hostility from the alien craft.It was man who was preparing for war--and Gray knew of no period inhistory in which preparations for war did not eventually culminate inone.

  So it was not really strange that it was he the aliens chose to contact.

  It came in the early hours of the morning. He awakened, not without achill of fear, the sound of his telviz set in his ears. He had left itturned off, he knew that. He shook his head to clear it, impatient ofthe fact that with advancing years it was taking an increasing time tobecome alert after sleep.

  He had not caught the message. For a brief moment he thought the soundhad been a dream.

  Then the telviz spoke again. The screen was blank. It said, _You areawake, Mr. Gray?_

  He stared at it, uncomprehending.

  He said, "I ... I don't understand." Then, suddenly, he did understand,as though by an inspired revelation. Why they were able to speakAmer-English. Why their ship looked like a Terran one. Why they had beenable to 'disrupt' the Earth ships instruments.

  He said haltingly, "Why are you here?"

  _We are familiar with your articles. You alone, Mr. Gray, seem at leastto seek understanding. Before we left, we felt it our duty to explainour presence and our purpose--that is, partially._

  "Yes," he said. Then, in an attempt to check the conclusion at which hehad just arrived, he added, "You are going from the SolarSystem--leaving your home for a new one?"

  There was a long silence.

  Finally: _As we said, we were going to explain partially our presenceand purpose, but obviously you know more than we had thought. Would youmind revealing the extent of your knowledge?_

  Gray reached to the foot of the bed and took up his night robe; partlybecause it was chilly, partly to give himself time to consider hisanswer. Perhaps he shouldn't have said that. He was alone in this smallhouse; he had no knowledge of their intentions toward him.

  But he had gone too far now. He said, "Not at all. I am not sure ofwhere we stand, but things should be much clearer, shortly. First ofall, your spaceships are tiny. Probably less than ten pounds."

  _About four, Mr. Gray._

  "Which explains why our instruments did not record
them; the instrumentsweren't disrupted, your ships were really too small to register. That'swhere we made our first mistake. We assumed, for no valid reason, thatyou were approximately our own size. We were willing to picture you asnon-human and possessing limbs, organs, and even senses different fromours; but we have pictured 'aliens', as we've been calling you, asapproximately our own size. Actually, you must be quite tiny."

  _Quite tiny, Markham Gray. Although, of course, the way we think of itis that you are quite huge._

  He was becoming more confident now; widely awake, it was less strange tohear the words come from his commonplace home model telviz set. "Oursecond mistake was in looking for you throughout space," he said softly.

  There was hesitation again, then, _And why was that a mistake, MarkhamGray?_

  Gray wet his lips. He might be signing his death warrant,