Aliens Alien Harvest - By Robert Sheckley Page 0,58

shrieked as his hair caught fire. And then Norbert was on him, two taloned hands on his shoulders, hind legs raking the man's middle with razor sharp claws. Simultaneously fried and eviscerated, Thomas fell to the floor, dead before he landed.

In the ensuing silence, Mac came trotting into the harvester, looked around, seemed unimpressed by the blood and gore that coated the walls, and trotted up to Norbert.

The robot alien patted him once on the head, then said, "That's all for now, Mac. I have to report."

The interior of the harvester was a shambles. There were bits and pieces of crewmen scattered all over the struts and inner bracing members. Bright arterial blood lay in puddles on the metal floor. Blood lapped at the corners of the room, and the self cleaning units were clogged with it.

Mac sniffed around, whimpered, then barked excitedly. He was getting a lot of mixed signals. Finally he decided something was wrong, but he'd have to let somebody else figure it out. He found a corner and lay down with his muzzle on his paws. Norbert came along behind him, stopped, and surveyed the damage he had caused.

Stan, back on the lander, was following visually. His voice was low. He was coaching Norbert.

"You're doing fine, Norbert. We want to check out the whole ship for possible damage. You're really quite violent once you get started, aren't you?" "Not intentionally, Doctor."

Julie leaned over Stan's shoulder. "What's that in the background, Stan?"

"I'm not sure... Norbert, make a hundred and eighty degree turn and do a slow pan. That's it. Now freeze. And magnify. Okay, freeze it right there. And correct the color. Good!"

Julie said, "Plastic storage units. Each of them would hold - what? Five liters?" "More like seven," said Gill. "There are hundreds of them stacked there," Stan said. "More on the other side of the hold."

"Are they royal jelly?" Julie asked. "Can we be absolutely sure of that?"

Stan replied, "There really seems no doubt. What else would they be filled with? Cloverleaf honey? The harvester is packed with the stuff. They must have been just about ready to take off back to Lancet."

"Good thing we got here when we did." Julie laughed. "They've done our work for us, Stan. We're rich!"

Stan grinned. "We'd better not start trying to spend it just yet. Norbert, have you completed your assessment of the damage yet?"

"Yes, Dr. Myakovsky."

"Any problems?"

"I'm afraid that in the fight this unit here was destroyed." Norbert indicated the interior suppressor gear, which was strewn around the cabin, most of it broken into fragments of crystal and plastic.

"Ah well," Stan said, "Can't make an omelette without breaking eggs, as some famous man once remarked. Do you know who said that, Gill?"

"I'm afraid I don't," Gill said.

"And here I thought you knew everything. Well, well..." Unexpectedly he began to giggle.

"Stan," Julie said, "what's the matter?"

Stan pulled himself together. "Whom the gods would destroy they first make mad. I don't suppose you know who said that, either. Well, never mind. Of all the stuff you could have destroyed, Norbert, I'm afraid you picked the worst I think that's the interior equipment for the ultrasonic suppressor."

"Are you certain?" Julie asked. "How can we know for sure?"

"There ought to be a serial number here somewhere." Stan examined the bits of twisted metal. "Yes, as I thought. Now we need to go to the next step."

"Is that difficult?" Julie asked.

"Easy enough ... Norbert, give me a picture through one of the portholes."

Outside, Stan could see a yellowish brown haze with dark shapes moving through it. Half the aliens were up, the others were reviving swiftly. They moved sluggishly at first, then with increasing vigor, toward the harvester.

"Clear up the focus," Stan snapped.

"Sorry, Doctor ..." With the focus cleared, Stan could see the distinct dark alien shapes milling around outside the ship.

"Okay," Stan said. "The suppressor is kaput and the aliens are awake. That's okay. Basically, our job is over. We've got the harvester. It was a little messy, but we got it. We need only pilot it up to the Dolomite and get out of here. Norbert, check the controls."

The robot alien moved to the control panel. After a moment he said, "I'm afraid we've got trouble, Doctor."

Stan could see for himself through Norbert's visual receptors. The battle inside the harvester had wrecked some of the controls.

"Oh, Stan," Julie said, "can Norbert fly that thing out of there?"

"Sure, if conditions were right," Stan said. "But I'm afraid it's not going to