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"What the devil does that mean?" I said. "Tell them to loosen up and explain themselves."
Mannion wrote out a straight query, and sent it. Again we waited for a reply.
It came, in a long windy paragraph stating that the Mancji found electrostatic baths amusing, and that
"crystallization" had drained their tanks. They wanted a flow of electrons from us to replenish their supply.
"This sounds like a simple electric current they're talking about, Captain," Mannion said. "They want a
battery charge."
"They seem to have power to burn," I said. "Why don't they generate their own juice? Ask them; and
find out where they learned Standard."
Mannion sent again; the reply was slow in coming back. Finally we got it:
THE MANCJI DO NOT EMPLOY MASSIVE GENERATION-PIECE WHERE
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ACCUMULATOR-PIECE IS SUFFICIENT. THIS SIMPLE TRADE SPEECH IS OF OLD
KNOWLEDGE. WE SELECT IT FROM SYMBOLS WE ARE PLEASED TO SENSE
EMPATTERNED ON YOUR HULL.
That made some sort of sense, but I was intrigued by the reference to Standard as a trade language. I
wanted to know where they had learned it. I couldn't help the hope I started building on the idea that this
giant knew our colony; the fact that they were using an antique version of the language, out of use for
several centuries might mean they'd gotten it from Omega.
I sent another query, but the reply was abrupt and told nothing except that Standard was of "old
knowledge."
Then Mannion entered a long technical exchange, getting the details of the kind of electric energy they
wanted.
"We can give them what they want, no sweat, Captain," he said after half an hour's talk. "They want DC;
100 volt, 50 amp will do."
"Ask them to describe themselves," I directed. I was beginning to get an idea.
Mannion sent, got his reply. "They're molluscoid, Captain," he said. He looked shocked. "They weigh
about two tons each."
"Ask them what they eat," I said.
I turned to Joyce as Mannion worked over the message. "Get Kramer up here, on the double," I
ordered.
Kramer came in five minutes later, looking drawn and rumpled. He stared at me sullenly.
"I'm releasing you from arrest temporarily on your own recognizance, Major," I said. "I want you to
study the reply to our last transmission, and tell me what you can do about it."
"Why me?" Kramer said. "I don't know what's going on." I didn't answer him.
There was a long, tense, half-hour wait before Mannion copied out the reply that came in a stuttering
nasal. He handed it to me.
The message was a recital of the indifference of the Mancji to biological processes of ingestion.
I told Kramer to write out a list of our dietary needs. I passed it to Mannion. "Ask them if they have
fresh sources of these substances aboard."
The reply was quick; they did.
"Tell them we will exchange electric power for a supply of these foods. Tell them we want samples of
half a dozen of the natural substances."
Again Mannion coded and sent, received and translated, sent again.
"They agree, Captain," he said at last. "They want us to fire a power lead out about a mile; they'll come
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in close and shoot us a specimen case with a flare on it. Then we can each check the other's
merchandise."
"All right," I said. "We can use a ground-service cable; rig a pilot light on it, and kick it out, as soon as
they get in close."
"We'll have to splice a couple of extra lengths to it," Mannion said.
"Go to it, Mannion," I said. "And send two of your men out to make the pick-up." This wasn't a
communications job, but I wanted a reliable man handling it.
I returned to the Bridge and keyed for Bourdon, directed him to arm two of his penetration missiles,
lock them onto the stranger, and switch over to my control. With the firing key in my hand, I stood at the
side-scan screen and watched for any signs of treachery. The ship moved in, came to rest filling the
screen.
Mannion's men reported out. I saw the red dot of our power lead move away, then a yellow point
glowed on the side of the vast iodine-colored wall looming across the screen.
Nothing else emerged from the alien ship. The red pilot light drifted across the face of the sphere.
Mannion reported six thousand feet of cable out before the light disappeared abruptly.
"Captain," Mannion reported, "they're drawing power."
"OK," I said. "Let them have a sample, then shut down."
I waited, watching carefully, until Mannion reported their canister inside.
"Kramer," I said. "Run me a fast check on the samples in that container."
Kramer was recovering his swagger. "You'll have to be a little more specific," he said. "Just what kind of
analysis do you have in mind? Do you want a full . . ."
"I just want to know one thing, Kramer," I said. "Can we assimilate these substances, yes or no? If you
don't feel like cooperating, I'll have you lashed to your bunk, and injected with them. You claim you're a
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