The Brain-Stealers

1

The space-craft landed. Silently. Gently. In deep forest. Within it there was venom and dissension. Silent venom. Soundless dissension. Thoughts. Only thoughts. A thought of bitter reproach—for gluttony. A thought of furious defensiveness. Angry, soundless accusations and counter-accusations. Then a cold, hard thought, reporting fact. The air outside the ship was good and the temperature bearable. There would be animals. Because of—the thought was icily savage, and meant gluttony—they would have to move of themselves, rather than be carried as was more convenient. But half a dozen of them should be able to handle any single animal on a strange world. There must be, though, no—again the savage thought of gluttony—until they had learned the nature of life on this world. Until they had some idea of its more intelligent and useful forms.

The craft that had landed was not large. Where it rested amid huge forest patriarchs, the branches had swerved aside and closed above it. It was hidden from above. But speckles of moonlight penetrated the leaves. They showed, presently, a circular slab in the ship's side in the act of unscrewing. It was a door.

Presently the moonlight shone upon movement. Upon movements. Creatures in awkward, unaccustomed self-locomotion. They were very small, compared to men, and their appearance was extremely improbable. They hobbled painfully in a compact group. At first they did not communicate even with each other, as if they strained whatever senses they possessed in the effort to savor the nature of this strange planet. Then the thoughts began. They expressed disgust. Disdain.

Then the icy, cold, clear thought that here the ground was firm and the vegetation worn away, is if by the passage of many animals.

The hobblings went along the path. Presently there was a light. An artificial light. There was tumultuous interchange of thought at ground-level among the struggling, painfully un-adept pedestrians. They moved forward. A dog barked furiously and rushed at them.

The small creatures stood still. The dog slowed, and stopped, and then curled up and lay snoring on the ground. The improbable things inspected him. There was fury in the thought-exchanges. But the icy, factual thought came again. This creature's paws were not adapted to the making of artifacts, such as the building yonder, nor the handling of tools required to make artificial lights. So that they should examine the building.

The tiny, loathsome creatures hobbled painfully toward it. Presently...

Men carried them back to the craft in which they had come. The men walked with the curious gait of sleepwalkers. And when the men had gone away again the craft that had landed in the forest was filled with rejoicing. Silent rejoicing. Soundless glee. Glee which rose to the status of rebellion. Mutiny took place, with every member of the crew a mutineer and joyously resolved to remain upon this planet for always.

The icy, factual thought again. No gluttony. Not yet.

The intelligent life on this planet was highly-developed.

If alarmed, it might be dangerous. But if the whole thing were carefully planned and properly carried out….