Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Science fiction, American
You cannot make a silk purse out of a sow's ear if you are limited to
the structures and compounds found in sows' ears. The best you can do is
make a finer, stronger, more sensitive sow's ear.
"I understand that the Nipe has his hideout pretty well bugged with all
kinds of alarms," Stanton said. "How did you get your own bugs in there
without setting off his?"
"Well, at first we didn't know for sure what he was up to; we weren't
even sure he was actually down in those tunnels. But we suspected that
if he was he'd have alarms set all over the place--perhaps even alarms
of types we couldn't recognize. But we had to take that chance. We _had_
to watch him."
He walked over to the nearby table and opened a box some twelve inches
long and five-by-five inches in cross-section.
"See this?" he said, as he took a furry object from the box.
It looked like a large rat. Dead, stiff, unmoving.
"Our spy," said Colonel Mannheim.
* * * * *
The rat moved along the rusted steel rail that ran the length of the
huge tunnel. To a human being, the tunnel would have seemed to be in
utter darkness, but the little eyes of the rat saw the surroundings as
faintly luminescent, glowing from the infra-red radiations given out by
the internal warmth of the cement and steel. The main source of the
radiations was from above, where the heat of the sun and the warmth from
the energy sources in the buildings on the surface seeped through the
roof of the tunnel. But here and there were even brighter spots of
warmth, spots that moved about on glowing feet and sniffed blindly at
the air with tiny glowing noses. Rats.
On and on moved the rat, its little pinkish feet pattering almost
silently on the oxidized metal surface of the rails. Its sensitive ears
picked up the movements and the squeals of other rats, but it paid them
no heed. Several times it met other rats on the rail, but most of them
sensed the alienness of _this_ rat and scuttled out of its way.
Once, it met a rat who did not give way. Hungry, perhaps, or perhaps
merely yielding to the paranoid fury that was a normal component of the
rattish mind, it squealed its defiance to the rat that was not a rat. It
advanced, baring its rodent teeth in a yellow-daggered snarl of hate.
The rat that was not a rat became suddenly motionless, its sharp little
nose pointed directly at the oncoming enemy. There came a noise, a tiny
popping hiss, like that of a very small drop of water striking hot
metal. From the left nostril of the not-rat, a tiny, glasslike needle
snapped out at bullet speed. It struck the advancing rat in the center
of the pink tongue that was visible in the open mouth. Then the not-rat
scuttled backward faster than any real rat could have moved.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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