Gordon Dickson - The Right to Arm Bears

The Dilbian called The Hill Bluffer opened his large mouth again, and put a further aspect of the matter out for Johns consideration.

You know, said the Bluffer, you cant get Greasy Face back from the Terror without fighting him?

Greasy Face, John remembered, was the Dilbians nickname for the human woman the Streamside Terror had kidnapped. Fighting him?? he echoed.

Yep, said the Bluffer. Man-to-man. No weapons. No holds barred.

John blinked. He looked past the Dilbian postmans head at the puffs of white clouds. They had not moved. They were still there. So were the mountains. It must be something wrong with his ears.

Fighting him? said John again, feeling like a man in a fast elevator which has just begun to descend.

A mans got his pride, said the Bluffer. If you take Greasy Face back, his mugs spilt all over again. He leaned a little toward John. That is, unless you whip him in a fair fight. Then theres no blood feud to it. Youre just a better man than he is, thats all. But thats what I havent been able to figure in this. You arent bad for a Shorty. You pulled a good trick with that beer on those drunks last night. You got guts.

He looked searchingly at John. But I mean Hell, you cant fight the Terror. Anybodyd know that. I mean Hell! said the Bluffer.

John was wishing he could express to the postman how much he agreed with him.

So what, inquired the bluffer, are you going to do when I deliver you to Streamside?

John thought about it.

The Right Honorable Joshua Guy, Ambassador Plenipotentiary to Dilbia, was smoking tobacco in a pipe, an old-fashioned, villainous habit for such a conservative and respected gentleman. The fumes from the pipe made John Tardy cough and strangle. Or perhaps it was the fumes combined with what the Rt. Hon. Josh Guy had just said.

Sir? wheezed John Tardy.

Sorry, said the dapper little diplomat. Thought you heard me the first time. He knocked his devil of a pipe out in a hand-carved bowl of some native Dilbian wood, where the coal continued to smoulder and stink only slightly less objectionably than it had before. What I said was that, naturally, as soon as we knew you were safely drafted for the job, we let out word to the Dilbians that you were deeply attached to the girl. In love with her, in fact.

John gulped air. Both men were talking Dilbian to exercise the command of the language John had had hypnoed into him on his way here from the Belt stars, and the Dilbian nickname for the missing Earthian girl sociologist came from his lips automatically,

With this Greasy Face?

Miss Ty Lamorc, corrected Joshua, smoothly slipping into Basic and then out again. Greasy Face to Dilbians, of course. But you mustnt pay too much attention to the apparent value of these Dilbian nicknames. The two old Dilbian gentlemen youre about to meetDaddy Shaking Knees, Mayor of Humrog, here, by the way, and Two Answersarent at all the sort they might sound like from name alone. Daddy Shaking Knees got his name from holding up one end of a timber one day in an emergency. After about forty-five minutes someone noticed his knees starting to tremble a bit. And Two Answers is not a liar, as you might expect, but a wily sort who can come up with more than one solution to a problem.

I see, said John.

Miss Lamorc is quite a fine young woman. I would not at all be ashamed to have her for a daughter, myself. Lots of character.

Oh, Im sure she has, said John, hastily. Im not objecting to the situation here. I dont want you to think that. After all, the draft is necessary in emergency situations, particularly in areas where were in close competition with the Hemnoids. But I dont understand what this has to do with my decathlon record? I thought Id put all that sports business behind me after the last Olympics. As you know, Im actually a fully qualified biochemist, and

Names, said Joshua, have their chief value around here as an index to what the Dilbians think of you. I, myself, now, am referred to as Little Bite; and you will undoubtedly be christened yourself with a Dilbian nickname, shortly.

Me! said John, startled. He thought of his own red hair which surmounted an athletically stocky body. He had always hated to be called Red.

It should not be too humiliating, provided you are careful not to make yourself ridiculous. Heinie, now

I beg your pardon?

I beg yours, said Josh, starting to refill his pipe. I should have used his full name of Heiner Schlaff. He puffed fresh clouds of smoke into the air of the small, neat office with the log walls. He lost his head first time he stepped out alone on the street. A Dilbian from one of the back-mountain clans whod never seen a human before, picked him up. Heinie lost his head completely. After all, he was never able to poke his nose outdoors without some Dilbian picking him up to hear him yell for help. The Squeaking Squirt, they named him; very bad public relations for us humans. Particularly when Gulark-ay, the Hemnoid in charge of their embassy locally here, gets an advantageous handle hung on him like the Beer-Guts Bouncer. There he goes now, by the way.

Joshua pointed out the office window that fronted on the main street of Humrog. Coming down its cobblestones, John saw, a sort of enormous robed, Buddha-like parody of a human being. The Hemnoid was a good eight feet in height, enormously boned, and while not as tall as the Dilbians themselves, fantastically padded with heavy-gravity muscles. The Hemnoids, John remembered, came from an original world with one-fourth again the gravity of Earth. Since Dilbias gravity was about a sixth less than Earths, that gave humanitys chief and closest competitors quite an advantage in this particular instance.

He may stopno, hes going past, said Joshua. What was I saying? Oh, yes. Keep your head in all situations. I assume someone whos won the decathlon in the All-Systems Olympics can do that.

Well, yes, said John. Of course, in biochemistry, now

You will find the Dilbians primitive, touchy, and insular.

I will?

Oh, yes. Definitely. Primitive. Touchy. And very much indifferent to anything outside their own mountains and forests; although weve been in touch with them for thirty years and the Hemnoids have for nearly twenty.

I see. Well, Ill watch out for that, said John. It struck me they wouldnt know much about chemistry, to say nothing of biochemistry

On the other hand, Joshua brushed the neat ends of his small grey mustache with a thoughtful forefinger, you mustnt fall into the error of thinking that just because they look like a passel of Kodiak bears whove decided to stand on their hind legs at all times and slim down a bit, that theyre bearlike completely in nature.

Ill watch that, too, said John.

There are intelligent individuals among them. Highly intelligent. Theres one, said Joshua, indicating a three-dimensional on his desk, the transparent cube of which showed the scaled-down frozen images of three Dilbians, the middle one of the trioat whom Joshua was pointingbeing a good head taller than either of his companions. Since Johns hypno training had informed him that the average male adult Dilbian would scale upwards of nine feet, this made the one Joshua was pointing at a monster indeed. Hes shrewd. Independent and open-minded. Experienced and wise, to say nothing of being influential with his fellow-Dilbians. Is this pipe bothering you, my boy?

No. No, said John, coughing discreetly. Not at all.

Have to put it out shortly when we meet Daddy Shaking Knees and Two Answers. Dilbians are quite sensitive about human odors, even mild ones like tobacco. To get back to what I was saying: We