The skipper of the Beautiful Joe wasn’t pleased. “It’s your necks. Don’t be blaming me for what happens,” he growled. “Well, where do you want to set down?”
“Set down?” gulped Charles. “R-right now?”
“Land and unload, it says in the contract. I ain’t got all day. I’ll dump you at Burgee’s old landing, load up with fresh water, and blast off for New Texas.”
Charles had no other spot in mind.
“Okay,” Possett said to the two robot crewmen at the main controls, “take her down.”
* * * *
At the waterfall’s edge, flowering trees twisted their roots in the cliffside, and a fresh wind scattered plumes of its spray through their leaves. Taller trees, bell-blossomed, fanned out from the pool, gave way to a meadow, and followed the course of the stream down a broadening valley—among faceted boulders of translucent quartz, rose-pink, green, and golden, sheltering small, lustrous spires of fragile fungi.
On the meadow stood the house, the latest in Second Victorian, complete with carved plastic false-front in early Schenectady Gothic. The Buttons themselves, with Cousin Aurelia, stood in front of it. They wore long linen dusters and sun helmets with heavy mosquito veils. They were going exploring.
Cousin Aurelia was sputtering: “Do you know what he said when he left? ‘Kid, you come along with Mike Possett. You don’t want no part of that planet. I’ll show you a ripsnorting time!’ Then he gave me a look that—that was positively lecherous.” She shuddered. “At least we’ll have no more of that nonsense. Your planet is uninhabited.”
Betty looked worried. “I’ve the funniest feeling,” she said. “As if someone was watching.”
“That’s absurd!” snapped Cousin Aurelia. “You must be imagin—” She stopped in her tracks. “Wh-what’s that?”
They looked. A large, soft, fuzzy beast had come out from under the trees. It was reddish and had very big feet. It blinked at them brightly, climbed a transparent green rock, and started to whistle, not too tunefully, through its long Roman nose.
Almost instantly, another emerged, a size smaller. Lowering its eyelids coquettishly, it began clapping its forepaws.
“Charles, they must be the ‘critters’ Burgee mentioned in that catalogue. Remember? I’m sure they’re perfectly harmless.”
Two more animals appeared and made for a rock of their own. And then there were, suddenly, dozens—all around the edge of the meadow. These were petite, creamy, with lavender ears. They came bounding forward in pairs, sat up and regarded the Buttons solemnly.
Charles began to relax. Somehow, Sugar Plum didn’t seem half so enormous any longer, now that they weren’t so alone.
“I wonder if they could be tamed.” Betty was wistful.
“They’re certain to be just full of fleas,” sniffed Cousin Aurelia.
The creatures were playful. As the Buttons walked over the meadow, they frolicked around them—
But they also were very affectionate. As they frolicked, they flirted. Every once in a while, each pair would pause to rub noses, to murmur seductively, to nip one another.
At first, Cousin Aurelia tried to pretend they weren’t there. But finally she halted. “Charles Edward Button, I won’t go a step farther till you drive those nasty things away. It’s disgraceful. They’re apt to do—anything!”
Charles flushed under his netting. “Shoo!” he said ineffectively. “Beat it!”
There was a swift patter of feet straight ahead and a figure flashed into view. She was slim. She was small, with a girdle and headdress of feathers. Her skin was sky-blue, and her ears were pointed, and her eyes were simply enormous. But she looked distressingly human.
In an instant, she vanished. As the Buttons stood there goggling, they heard more running footsteps, somewhat heavier, and a scuffle, a giggle, a clear, tenor laugh, and then silence.
“Why, that was a girl!” Betty gasped.
“She was being pursued!” Charles exclaimed. “He—he caught her!”
“Oooh!” moaned Cousin Aurelia, covering her eyes. “Charles, how could you? Enticing us here, saying it was uninhabited!”
Then, before Charles could find a reply:
“Uninhabited?” chuckled a deep male voice right behind them. “It certainly isn’t. It’s just uninhibited!”
Slowly, the Buttons turned around. There, by an odd square tree, stood a man even bigger than Possett, smoking a pipe. He was middle-aged. He wore a heavy brown beard, khaki shorts, a deep coat of tan, and a self-possessed smile.
He bowed. “Burgee is my name—Space Captain Alexander Burgee. Glad to make your acquaintance.”
“It’s him!” screamed Cousin Aurelia. “And he’s practically naked!” She pointed a cotton-gloved finger, began backing away. “You fiend, don’t you come any nearer. Don’t you touch me!”
The captain looked very surprised. “Why would I want to?”
Her voice reached a new high and clung there. “You—you libertine! You may lead a riotous life with these natives, but you won’t work your will on me. I’ll lock myself in till the police can come from New Texas!”
And, tripping and stumbling over her duster, she fled.
As the door banged behind her, the captain nudged a large beast off a nearby rock, and sat down. “I can see that Earth hasn’t changed,” he remarked. “You tourists still seem to have the daffiest notions.” He sounded quite hurt. “Look, these natives are nice little people. They’re harmless. I call ’em my Sugar Plum pixies, and sometimes we grin at each other. But that’s all. They aren’t much past the animal stage. Besides, they lay eggs. Oh, well—” he shrugged as the Buttons exchanged knowing looks—“I have plenty of room at the house and I guess you’ll be permanent guests, so welcome to Sugar Plum, anyway.”
Betty said angrily, “Sugar Plum’s ours. You didn’t pay taxes and they sold it at auction. Charles has the deed in his pocket.”
“You poor, dumb kids!” The captain seemed really concerned. “You bought some fool bureaucrats error. I’m paid up in advance. Come on down, you can see the receipt.”
“Aren’t you clever?” said Betty scornfully. “Well, you won’t trap us as easily as that. We don’t need you or your house.”
“You just might want something to eat, or a hot, soapy shower, or a tight roof over you when it rains.”
The Buttons smiled triumphantly. They had their own house, with a DoItAll to do everything for them.
“You can leave us alone, Mr. Pirate Burgee. Captain Possett told us your whole horrible story, and Cousin Aurelia is calling the police right this minute.”
“Possett?” The captain’s face twitched. “Mike Possett, of the Beautiful Joe?”
“That’s right.” Charles felt very superior. “Now you beat it before—”
He didn’t finish. From the house came a loud, anguished cry.
They whirled.
Cousin Aurelia, disheveled without helmet or duster, was almost upon them.
“Charles! It won’t work!”
She reached him, threw her arms round his neck and hung on.