Unearthly Neighbors Read Online Free PDF

he muttered. “Show you what I’m up against.”
    A good clear picture formed in the air, sharp and three-dimensional. A male native of Sirius Nine dropped down out of the trees—there was a distinct thump when he landed—and walked up to another naked man who was standing in a clearing. The pickup was amazingly sensitive, and Monte could even hear the rapid breathing of the new arrival. The man who had descended from the trees said something to the other man. It was hard to catch exactly what he said, because the sounds of the language were utterly different from any language Monte knew. The man who had been there first hesitated a moment, then gave a peculiar whistle. The two men went off together and disappeared into the forest.
    Jenike cut the equipment off. “Neat, huh? That’s about the best we’ve got, too. I’ve worked out the phonemic system pretty well; I can repeat what that guy said without any trouble now. But what the hell does it mean?”
    “What you need is a dictionary.”
    “Yeah. You get me one first thing, will you?”
    Monte shifted his position carefully; the low artificial gravity field that Admiral York was so proud of was apt to send you smashing into a wall if you forgot what you were doing. He appreciated Charlie’s problem. It would have been a tough nut to crack even if he had been working with a known culture.
    Suppose, for instance, that two Americans meet each other in a hallway. Imagine that for some reason they speak in a private language that is quite unknown to a hidden observer. One of them looks at the other and says—something.
    What?
    It might be: “Joe! How are you?” (Health is a major concern of American culture, but you don’t have that clue on Sirius Nine.)
    It might be: “Joe! How’re the wife and kids?” (Same clue, plus knowledge of the typical family structure. Elsewhere, it might be wives and kids.)
    It might be: “Joe, you old horse thief! Howsa boy?” (Joking relationships are common in America, as in other places.)
    It might also be: “Joe, step outside. I’m gonna punch you one in the snoot.” (Occasionally, Americans mean what they say.)
    Without even the hints that might be given by a known cultural system, the voices from Sirius Nine were just that—voices. They were sounds without meaning. It would definitely not be possible to land on the planet in a blaze of glory, stroll up to the nearest native, and say, “Greetings, O Man-Who-Is-My-Brother! I come from beyond the sky, wallowing in good will, to bring you all the jazzy benefits of civilization. Come, let us go arm in arm to the jolly old Council of the Wise Ones…”
    “I’m going nuts,” Charlie said, lighting a cigarette. “Got any suggestions?”
    “Just, keep digging, that’s all. We’ll probably have to work out a nonverbal approach, but if you’re set up to learn the language in a hurry once you get the chance, that’s all we can expect. Anything I can do for you?”
    Jenike smiled, showing singularly yellow teeth. “Yeah, you can get out of here and let me work.”
    Monte stifled the reply that came all too readily to his lips; he was going to keep things running smoothly if it killed him. “See you around, then.”
    He started to duck out through the door.
    “Monte?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Don’t mind me. Thanks for coming by.”
    “Don’t mention it.”
    Feeling a little better, he closed the door behind him.
    Already, the voices had started up again. He could hear them faintly in the cold silence of the ship: laughing, solemn, playful, querulous.
    He started gingerly along the catwalk, and the strange whispers followed him, filling his mind.
    Sounds from another world…
    Voices.
    The large, somewhat egg-shaped off-duty room was supplied with reasonably decent tables and chairs, and even had an impressively mammalian nude painting on one wall. It had a bar of sorts too, and the cool air was warmed a bit by the fog of smoke and voices that characterized all such rooms