Planet of Creation

Thettumir turned and left the control room. The task of slowing their tremendous speed, he knew, would take time--time which he could spend most comfortably in his cabin. Besides, bitterness still gnawed within him at the recent Urgollian defeat by the men of Urrth. Or was it Errth, he wondered. He could never remember the exact pronunciation. He'd have to ask Sthalor, the chief psychologist, again. Sthalor had questioned enough captive Errthmen to be sure.

Questioned. Thettumir decided that was too nice a word. Sthalor's methods were apt to be harsh, but they produced vitally necessary information.

Striding through the corridors of the flagship, Thettumir thought wistfully of Errth. Of all the nine planets in the Solarian System, Errth had been the most desirable. A beautiful world, so much like Urgoll, and in many ways even superior. It would have made an ideal colonial addition, if--

If Urgoll had won, Thettumir thought with sudden pain.

He entered his cabin. Removing his flexible tinted metal uniform harness, he lowered his squat massive form gratefully into a chair. From a humidor on his desk he took a nikot leaf, which he rolled into a cylinder and inserted into a smoke-tube. He lit up, puffed away, felt the aching tension gradually leave him.

A knock at the door broke the _nikot_-scented quiet. It was Kasthel, second in command of the flagship.

"Forgive me if I intrude, Commander, but there is a matter of grave importance which I wish to discuss with you."

"Your visit is welcome, Kasthel." Thettumir gestured to a nearby chair and pushed within reach the nikot humidor. "What is this matter of grave importance?"

Kasthel did not look up as he filled his smoke-tube. "You recall the conditions that existed when we left Urgoll, Commander?"

Thettumir nodded slowly, his great yellow orbs clouding. "There was threat of revolution. Only the announcement that a habitable planet--Errth--had at last been discovered delayed it. And now, when we return--defeated...."

"Exactly," Kasthel affirmed. "Revolution will burst out abruptly and violently. With Errth lost to us, the population pressure on Urgoll will have no other outlet."

Thettumir curled his snake-like fingers into a fist and brought it down angrily on the desk. "It was the fault of the expedition which discovered Errth! It was careless enough to give warning of our existence. The Errthmen already had space travel. When we finally came in force they were prepared."

"But a second attack, Commander. The Errthmen will not expect us to return."

"There will be no second attack. The revolution on Urgoll will bring on a dark age."

Kasthel leaned forward in sudden earnestness. "We could stop that. We compose the entire military strength of Urgoll. We are armed and trained. None could oppose us."

"But what good would it do?" Thettumir objected. "We would only keep in power an Executive Council which, if it had been more efficient and fore-sighted, would have controlled the spread of population in the beginning."

"Why share with the Executive Council what we have won by our own efforts?" Kasthel asked slyly.

For a moment Thettumir was puzzled. Then he smiled in sudden understanding. "I see what you mean. But, aside from taking over the rule of Urgoll, I see other things also. We could effect a temporary solution to the problem of over-population--by exterminating the weak and unfit. Then we could train all those remaining as soldiers, assemble the greatest fighting force that ever existed. Errth could yet be taken!"

Kasthel leaned closer. "But, Commander, are these things we could do, or will do?"

"_Will_ do!" Thettumir snapped grimly, determinedly.

They interlocked digits in enthusiastic agreement. And then, over glasses of fiery glath liquor, they polished the rough jewel of their plans.

The scout ships reported back. Gray clouds extended down to the very surface of the planet, but a landing would not be too difficult, since instruments showed the terrain to be dry and firm and free of irregularities. Gravity was slight, as the planet was a relatively small one. There was air--thin but breathable.

Thettumir gave orders for landing. Guided by their instruments and audio beams of the scout ships, the fleet settled slowly and gingerly to the surface. Repair crews began at once to remove damaged parts, while engineers and technicians began the design and manufacture of replacements. The injuries sustained by the fleet, however, were so extensive that the stock of spare parts and materials was soon exhausted. Expeditions dispatched to locate deposits of the required metals reported failure. There were metals, but not enough or none at all of those which were most urgently needed.

Informed of the situation, Thettumir decided to make a personal tour of the fleet in the hope of finding some sort of solution. He had already the tentative idea of scrapping several vessels for the necessary materials, and intended by his survey to determine those most expendable. Accompanied by Kasthel and several other officers, he left the flagship.

Outside on the surface of the planet, he examined his surroundings curiously. There was disappointingly little to be seen. The ever-present gray clouds were thinner here than at higher altitudes, but the effect was that of a repressing fog in which visibility was limited to several yards. The ground was smooth bare rock, as colorless as the clouds. It was pleasantly warm, as might have been expected from the size and proximity of the sun. The air, though rarified, did not make breathing difficult.

Thettumir digested the result of his examination musingly. He told Kasthel, "This planet is not without merit. If it were not for the clouds and the barrenness of the soil, it would suffice as a colonial site."

Kasthel nodded. "Vegetation and an unobstructed view would make a great difference."

Thettumir gave an abrupt shrug. "We waste time in dreams. Come, we have still to make our inspection."

Guide lines had been strung from ship to ship. Following these, Thettumir and the others made their tour.