Close to Critical Read Online Free PDF Page A

one thing I'm not qualified to teach you - and you wouldn't stand a chance against that tribe.
    "Therefore, Nick, I want you and one other to go to meet them. They'll be coming along your trail, so you'll have no trouble finding them. When you meet Swift, tell him that we'll gladly move to his village or let him move to ours, and that I'll teach him and his people all he wants. If you make clear that I don't know his language and that he'll need you to talk to me, he'll probably be smart enough not to hurt any of us."
    "When shall we start? Right away?"
    "That would be best, but you've just had a long trip and deserve some rest. Anyway, a lot of the day is gone, and there probably won't be much lost by letting you get a night's sleep before you start. Go tomorrow morning."
    "All right, Teacher." Nick gave no evidence of the uneasiness he felt at the prospect of meeting Swift again. He had known that savage for several weeks; Fagin had never met him. Still, the Teacher knew a lot; he had taught Nick virtually all he knew, and for a whole lifetime - at least, Nick's whole lifetime - had been the final authority in the village. Probably everything would come out as Fagin predicted. It might have, too, had not the men behind the robot grossly underestimated the tracking ability of the cave-dwellers. Nick had not even had time to get to sleep beside his watch-fire after lighting up at rainfall when a surprised yell, in Nancy's voice, sounded from a point four fires to his left; and a split second later he saw Swift himself, flanked by a line of his biggest fighters which disappeared around the hill on either side, sweeping silently up the slope toward him.

    II. EXPLANATION; CONCATENATION; RECRIMINATION

    "WHAT do you do now?"
    Raeker ignored the question; important as he knew the speaker to be, he had no time for casual conversation. He had to act. Fagin's television screens lined the wall around him, and every one showed the swarming forms of the fir-cone-shaped beings who were attacking the village. There was a microphone before his face, with its switch spring-loaded in the open position so that casual talk in the control room would not reach the robot's associates; his finger was hovering over the switch, but he did not touch it. He didn't quite know what to say.
    Everything he had told Nick through the robot was perfectly true; there was nothing to be gained by trying to fight. Unfortunately, the fight had already started. Even had Raeker been qualified to give advice on the defense of the village, it was too late; it was no longer even possible for a human being to distinguish the attackers from the defenders. Spears were sailing through the air with blinding speed - nothing merely tossed gets very far in a three-gravity field - and axes and knives flashed in the firelight. "It's a good show, anyway." The same shrill voice that had asked the question a minute earlier made itself heard once more. "That firelight seems to be brighter than daylight, down there." The casual tone infuriated Raeker, who was not taking the predicament of his friends at all casually; but it was not consideration of the identity or importance of the speaker that kept him from losing his temper and saying something unfortunate. Quite unintentionally, the onlooker had given him an idea. His finger stabbed at the microphone button.
    "Nick! Can you hear me?"
    "Yes, Teacher." Nick's voice showed no sign of the terrific physical effort he was exerting; his voice machinery was not as closely tied in with his breathing apparatus as is that of a human being. "All right. Fight your way into the nearest hut as quickly as possible, all of you. Get out of sight of me. If you can't reach a hut, get behind a woodpile or something like that - below the curve of the hill, if nothing better is possible. Let me know as soon as you've all managed this."
    "We'll try." Nick had no time to say more; those in the control room could only watch, though Raeker's fingers were