The Ambassador's Pet

I picked up sealed orders at the Routing Desk of Space Service. They were addressed to Captain Johnny Martin of the spaceship 13-XV-1, which is my name and my ship.

They said:

Proceed to Aldebaran VII at once. You are to pick up an Aldebaranian ambassador and transfer him to Earth for high-level diplomatic talks.

You are to treat him with utmost courtesy. Relations between Earth and Aldebaran VII are in a very delicate state at this time.

The ambassador informs us he plans to bring a pet with him to Earth.

Pets, huh? I snorted a little and folded the orders away in my pocket. Well, I supposed it came in the line of duty. If they ordered me to ferry Aldebaranian pets, I'd ferry Aldebaranian pets. All in a day's work, I told myself.

I stopped off and had a couple of beers before returning to the ship. Meersal, my First Officer, was waiting for me.

"Well? Pick up the orders?"

I nodded. "Yep. Got 'em right here." I unfolded them and handed them over to him.

He ran his eyes over them quizzically. "Hokay," he said. "I guess we go to Aldebaran, huh?"

Our instructions came in detail a little while later. We were to hover over Aldebaran VII and give a special signal; a transfer-tug would come up to us from the surface and hand the Ambassador and his pet over to us. Under no conditions were we to land on Aldebaran VII itself; the natives would regard it as a breach of the truce that currently existed between their world and ours.

Okay, I thought. I didn't care.

I gave the orders to the crew at nightfall and we left Earth a little past midnight. Meersal had already instructed the astrogator about our next destination and he had whipped up the course.

We did some hundred thousand miles on ion-drive and then, safely clear of the Earth's grav-field, converted over and popped into warp. Aldebaran lay three weeks ahead of us through hyperspace.

Earth and Aldebaran had first contact about 10 years before. I didn't know anything particular about the planet or its people—there are enough worlds in the galaxy so you don't get to know each type of alien there is. We had a special cabin ready aboard the ship for the Aldebaranian ambassador and his pet. Instructions told us to prepare a special fluorine atmosphere, which meant the Aldebaranians couldn't be much like us.

But they had agreed to negotiate a treaty of friendship with Earth and were sending an ambassador. That was good news, I thought.

We popped out of warp right on schedule and there was the giant hazy red sun that was Aldebaran, staring us right in the face. It seemed to fill the entire sky.

Our astrogator plotted a course rapidly for Aldebaran VII, which was then at perihelion and a good ways across the heavens from where we were. The Aldebaran system is a huge one—31 planets spread out over six or seven billion miles of space.

Most of them were dead worlds, though. It was only Aldebaran VII that had any sort of intelligent life, or so our survey teams reported.

It took three days more to get within hailing distance of the seventh planet. It spun beneath us, a pretty blue-green ball about the size of Earth.

We came within about a million miles and set up an orbit as per instructions. No sooner had we done that than we found ourselves surrounded by a flock of alien warships.

I went to the radio room and made contact.

"State name and object here," I was ordered in a crisp, business-like voice.

"I'm Johnny Martin, Captain of the Terran vessel 13-XV-1, with no hostile intent. We're here to pick up an ambassador from Aldebaran to Earth, along with his pet."

I heard some hasty conferring going on and then someone said, "Hold on, Terran ship. We'll check with the home planet."

Five tense minutes passed—minutes in which I half expected to be blown out of the sky by a sudden attack. You never can tell with aliens. They're likely to do almost anything; their psychologies are unpredictable in Terran terms—as, I guess, ours are in theirs.

But finally my receiver crackled and the alien voice said, "Everything is clear, 13-XV-1. Remain in orbit and ambassador will be transferred to your ship. Any suspicious move on your part will bring immediate attack by our defense fleet."

"Don't worry. I'm not going any place. I'll wait right here."

I watched in the viewscope as a small ship bellied upward from the blue-green world below and approached us. They matched velocities with us, airlock to airlock.

"Get that fluorine room ready," I ordered my men. "The Ambassador's coming aboard."

The two ships hung side by side in space. Of course, there was no apparent relative motion since we had the same velocity. It was possible to walk back and forth from their ship to ours.

"Prepare to receive Ambassador," came the message from the other ship. "His excellency, Quelf Tharkol, Minister Plenipotenitiary—and his pet."

"I'm ready," I said. "Our airlock's open."

Slowly the lock of the other ship slid back and two space-suited figures appeared—the Ambassador, Quelf Tharkol, and his pet. The Ambassador was invisible within his spacesuit but he stood upright and looked to be about the size of a man. I was happy about that; it's always a lot easier to negotiate with a humanoids-type alien than with something totally bizarre.

I chuckled when I saw the space-suited cat—for so I thought of it. It was cat-size, in a little form-fitting spacesuit, and it scampered after its master on four legs, space-suited tail wagging behind. It was sort of a cute little thing, I thought; no wonder its master didn't care to leave it behind.

"Everything all set?" I asked.

"Transfer is completed," said the captain of the other ship. He closed his lock, and pulled away from us.

"Close the lock!" I ordered.

I gestured to a crewman standing by. "Show the Ambassador to his room," I said.

When the Ambassador and his pet were in their special fluorinated stateroom I called them on the special television hookup I had set up between them.

They had taken their spacesuits off and were lying sprawled out in their green murky atmosphere, the Ambassador in his bunk and the pet in his. I could hardly see into the room over my circuit but I could see that the Ambassador was very human and that the pet was pretty much like a cat, except that he had sharp-clawed fingers instead of the soft little pads a cat has.

"Everything all right in there?" I asked.

"Fine, just fine. How long will it take to get to Earth?"

"About three weeks," I said. "We'll be going into warp any minute."

"Very well," came the reply.

I didn't expect to have many dealings with the Ambassador. I had been told that he would have his own food supply and naturally he was confined to his fluorinated stateroom. So we settled down to a pleasant return trip.

But on the second day of warp I was awakened from sweet dreams by Whitey Durbin, the Night Engineer. He shoved me around in my bunk until I opened one eye and said "Whatsamatter?"

"It's the cat, Chief!"

"Cat? What cat? You crazy, Whitey? Lemme go back to sleep."

But he was obstinate. "The Ambassador's pet. It's out of its room."

"Huh? But it can't breathe—"

"It's wearing a spacesuit. And it's wandering all over the ship, snooping around. I caught it in the drive section and up front with the charts. I don't like it, Chief."

"No. Neither do I." I was wide awake all at once. There had been something fishy about this pet business all along and now I was suspicious. Suppose the pet were a little smarter than a cat? Suppose it was snooping around innocently enough—and actually soaking up vital secret information about the workings of a Terran spaceship?

But I didn't know what to do. My orders stressed the fact that I had to handle the Ambassador with kid gloves—but on the other hand, was I supposed to let that creature roam all over the ship?

"Get me a hookup with Home Base," I said. "And in the meantime keep an eye on that cat. Don't let it catch wise but try to follow it around. And don't stop it from roaming. These aliens may be touchy about the funniest things."

I got in touch with Home Base in jig time. Commander Mahoney was the man I spoke to.

"How's that Ambassador, Martin?"

"That's why I'm calling, sir. You see—the Ambassador's pet is creeping all around the ship. It's sort of a cat but I wonder whether maybe it's doing a very neat job of spying on us."

"Have you taken any action yet?"

"No. I wanted to check with Home Base."

Mahoney thought for a moment. "I suppose it would be all right to speak to the Ambassador about this and tactfully request that he keep the creature in his own quarters. But be tactful about it, Martin. Remember, we don't want to offend these aliens."

It was the middle of the "night" aboard ship, so I didn't think it would be particularly tactful to call the Ambassador just then.

I waited until morning, by which time my men reported that the cat had completed its survey and had promptly returned to the Ambassador's room.

When the television came on, the Ambassador and his pet were again reclining leisurely on their bunks.

"Sorry if I'm disturbing you," I said hesitantly.

"That's quite all right. What can I do for you?"

"A matter of shipboard procedure I'd like to point out. It seems last night your pet left your cabin and explored the ship, or so some of my men reported. I'd appreciate it if you'd restrain the animal to quarters from now on. It upsets shipboard routine—and, besides, my instructions request that I keep the operating sections of the ship under security wrap."

There was silence for a moment. I held my breath, hoping I hadn't said something wrong, some thing that might foul up the delicate Earth-Aldebaran negotiations in progress.

Finally came the reply. "I understand fully. I'm sorry about the exploration trip—it was mere curiosity. It won't be repeated. But you're mistaken about one thing."

"What's that?" I asked somewhat puzzledly.

"My pet remained in the cabin all night. I was the one who explored the ship." There was a sneer in his voice.

"You? But—"

My mouth clammed shut. And then I understood. I couldn't keep the flush of embarrassment from my face and he saw it over the screen. It seemed to please him. Pretty damned clever, I thought. Smart psychology for the aliens to bring a "human" as a pet, putting our diplomats on the defensive right from the start. The Ambassador must have known what I was thinking for the sneer grew on his face.

Then suddenly I grinned. It seemed to surprise him. This, he hadn't expected.

"Captain, something strikes you as humorous?" There was uncertainty in his tone. Plus a little annoyance.

My grin widened. "Just a little private joke, Ambassador," I said. I was thinking that this joker was in for a shock. Two planets could play at this game and I would have plenty of time to tip off Home Base.

After all, we have pets too....