the contact point
By JACK SHARKEY
Somewhere on Mars there had
to be a meeting of the minds....
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of If Science Fiction, January 1961.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Lieutenant Lloyd spotted the first alien in the ruins of the strangered Martian city on the second day of exploration. His first impulsewas to call out to the other men—but then, afraid his voice wouldstartle the creature down at the end of the rubble-strewn street, hesilently unholstered his military service pistol and crept forwardtoward the back (he hoped it was the back) of the alien, his breathrasping behind his faceplate.
He was a mere ten paces short of his goal when loose gravel beneath hisheavy boot betrayed him. Even in the thin Martian atmosphere, the soundwas a sharp one. The creature spun about, one appendage gripping thehaft of a slim crystal tube. He froze there, watching Lloyd with oddoval-shaped eyes, yellow-orange in color. Lloyd's thumb slid back thesafety catch on his automatic, slowly, carefully.
Then the creature lowered the tube and its wide lipless mouth curledin what had to be a grin. "Ookl okkl?" it said distinctly.
Lloyd looked into the alien eyes and was pleased to see theintelligence within their depths. He reholstered his pistol and heldout his hand. "Lieutenant Lloyd of the Sherlock II," he said.
The alien hesitated, then inserted the four flaccid stalk-things at theend of its "arm" into Lloyd's hand. They shook these clasped appendagessolemnly, then withdrew their own with relief.
"Boy, am I glad you Martians are friendly!" Lloyd laughed. "When Isaw you up the street, I envisioned a full-scale guerrilla attackand—Damn, you're not getting a word of this, are you?"
In reply, the creature pointed to its thoracic region and said, "UlkayBlet." It pointed to Lloyd again and enunciated carefully, "LieutenantLloyd."
"Glad to know you, Ulkay. Or do I call you by both names? Or justMister Blet?"
"Ulkay," the alien said. "Blet," he added. "Ulkay Blet," he clarified,with an almost Earthlike shrug.
It was strictly a take-your-pick name, Lloyd saw. He took his pick."Ulkay, tell me, are you the last of your race, or are there others ofyour kind still left alive on Mars?"
Ulkay just stared, friendly but lost.
Lloyd tried again. "I—" he pointed to himself—"am here with more likeme—" he pointed to himself, held up one finger to Ulkay, then pointedin a long sweep behind himself toward the end of the street and heldup four fingers. His only success was an envious look from Ulkay atLloyd's extra finger.
"Hoo boy!" said Lloyd, smacking his brow in chagrin. "This is a roughone. Look, Ulkay, you hold on and don't be scared." He laid a handupon Ulkay's shoulder for assurance, then turned his head and shouted,"Here! This way, men!"
The sound of heavy booted feet began, far up the cluttered street.Lloyd felt Ulkay grow tense. "It's all right," he said slowly,soothingly, as one talks to a horse or dog, knowing the tone conveyswhat the words cannot. Ulkay seemed to sense the assurance and relaxeda little.
In another minute, Kroner, Harrison, Tandy and Craig were beside theircommanding officer, gaping with unconcealed glee at the slightly underfive-foot form of Ulkay, who stared right back, steadily if not boldly.
"Our first contact with a Martian!" Kroner exulted, his voice