*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 65343 ***

               This diplomat had to be treated with kid
             gloves; my orders were clear on that. Trouble
             was my instructions from Earth didn't cover--

                         The Ambassador's Pet

                          By Alexander Blade

           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
              Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
                             October 1957
         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]


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....

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 65343 ***