The Robert Silverberg Science Fiction MEGAPACK® by Robert Silverberg Read Free Book Online

have both a male and a female now and—”
    “This is known to me. The female—is her name perchance Tiress?”
    I glanced down at the inventory chart until I found the Stortulian entry. “Yes, that’s her name.”
    The little being immediately emitted a soul-shaking gasp. “It is she! It is she!”
    “I’m afraid we don’t have room for any more—”
    “You are not in full understanding of my plight. The female Tiress, she is—was—my own Fire-sent spouse, my comfort and my warmth, my life and my love.”
    “Funny,” I said. “When we signed her three years ago, she said she was single. It’s right here on the chart.”
    “She lied! She left my burrow because she longed to see the splendors of Earth. And I am alone, bound by our sacred customs never to remarry, languishing in sadness and pining for her return. You must take me to Earth!”
    “But—”
    “I must see her—her and this disgrace-bringing lover of hers. I must reason with her. Earthman, can’t you see I must appeal to her inner flame? I must bring her back!”
    My face was expressionless. “You don’t really intend to join our organization at all—you just want free passage to Earth?”
    “Yes, yes!” wailed the Stortulian. “Find some other member of my race, if you must! Let me have my wife again, Earthman! Is your heart a dead lump of stone?”
    It isn’t, but another of my principles is to refuse to be swayed by sentiment. I felt sorry for this being’s domestic troubles, but I wasn’t going to break up a good act just to make an alien squirrel happy—not to mention footing the transportation.
    I said, “I don’t see how we can manage it. The laws are very strict on the subject of bringing alien life to Earth. It has to be for scientific purposes only. And if I know in advance that your purpose in coming isn’t scientific, I can’t in all conscience lie for you, can I?”
    “Well—”
    “Of course not.” I took advantage of his pathetic upset to steam right along. “Now if you had come in here and simply asked me to sign you up, I might conceivably have done it. But no—you had to go unburden your heart to me.”
    ”I thought the truth would move you.”
    “It did. But in effect you’re now asking me to conspire in a fraudulent criminal act. Friend, I can’t do it. My reputation means too much to me,” I said piously.
    “Then you will refuse me?”
    “My heart melts to nothingness for you. But I can’t take you to Earth.”
    “Perhaps you will send my wife to me here?”
    There’s a clause in every contract that allows me to jettison an unwanted specimen. All I have to do is declare it no longer of scientific interest, and the World Government will deport the undesirable alien back to its home world. But I wouldn’t pull a low trick like that on our female Stortulian.
    I said, “I’ll ask her about coming home. But I won’t ship her back against her will. And maybe she’s happier where she is.”
    The Stortulian seemed to shrivel. His eyelids closed halfway to mask his tears. He turned and shambled slowly to the door, walking like a living dishrag. In a bleak voice he said, “There is no hope then. All is lost. I will never see my soul mate again. Good day, Earthman.”
    He spoke in a drab monotone that almost, but not quite, had me weeping. I watched him shuffle out. I do have some conscience, and I had the uneasy feeling I had just been talking to a being who was about to commit suicide on my account.
    About fifty more applicants were processed without a hitch. Then life started to get complicated again.
    Nine of the fifty were okay. The rest were unacceptable for one reason or another, and they took the bad news quietly enough. The haul for the day so far was close to two dozen new life forms under contract.
    I had just about begun to forget about the incidents of the Kallerian’s outraged pride and the Stortulian’s flighty wife when the door opened and the Earthman who called himself Ildwar Gorb