Oomphel in the Sky

Oomphel in the Sky, by Henry
Beam Piper

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Title: Oomphel in the Sky
Author: Henry Beam Piper
Release Date: February 23, 2007 [EBook #20649]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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IN THE SKY ***

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OOMPHEL ... ... IN THE SKY
By H. BEAM PIPER

Transcriber's Note
This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact--Science Fiction,
November 1960. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
[Illustration]
Since Logic derives from postulates, it never has, and never will,
change a postulate. And a religious belief is a system of postulates ... so
how can a man fight a native superstition with logic? Or anything
else...?
Illustrated by Bernklau
Miles Gilbert watched the landscape slide away below him, its quilt of
rounded treetops mottled red and orange in the double sunlight and, in
shaded places, with the natural yellow of the vegetation of Kwannon.
The aircar began a slow swing to the left, and Gettler Alpha came into
view, a monstrous smear of red incandescence with an optical diameter
of two feet at arm's length, slightly flattened on the bottom by the
western horizon. In another couple of hours it would be completely set,
but by that time Beta, the planet's G-class primary, would be at its
midafternoon hottest. He glanced at his watch. It was 1005, but that
was Galactic Standard Time, and had no relevance to anything that was
happening in the local sky. It did mean, though, that it was five minutes
short of two hours to 'cast-time.
He snapped on the communication screen in front of him, and Harry
Walsh, the news editor, looked out of it at him from the office in
Bluelake, halfway across the continent. He wanted to know how things
were going.
"Just about finished. I'm going to look in at a couple more native
villages, and then I'm going to Sanders' plantation to see Gonzales. I
hope I'll have a personal statement from him, and the final
situation-progress map, in time for the 'cast. I take it Maith's still
agreeable to releasing the story at twelve-hundred?"

"Sure; he was always agreeable. The Army wants publicity; it was
Government House that wanted to sit on it, and they've given that up
now. The story's all over the place here, native city and all."
"What's the situation in town, now?"
"Oh, it's still going on. Some disorders, mostly just unrest. Lot of street
meetings that could have turned into frenzies if the police hadn't broken
them up in time. A couple of shootings, some sleep-gassing, and a lot
of arrests. Nothing to worry about--at least, not immediately."
That was about what he thought. "Maybe it's not bad to have a little
trouble in Bluelake," he considered. "What happens out here in the
plantation country the Government House crowd can't see, and it
doesn't worry them. Well, I'll call you from Sanders'."
He blanked the screen. In the seat in front, the native pilot said: "Some
contragravity up ahead, boss." It sounded like two voices speaking in
unison, which was just what it was. "I'll have a look."
The pilot's hand, long and thin, like a squirrel's, reached up and pulled
down the fifty-power binoculars on their swinging arm. Miles looked at
the screen-map and saw a native village just ahead of the dot of light
that marked the position of the aircar. He spoke the native name of the
village aloud, and added:
"Let down there, Heshto. I'll see what's going on."
The native, still looking through the glasses, said, "Right, boss." Then
he turned.
His skin was blue-gray and looked like sponge rubber. He was
humanoid, to the extent of being an upright biped, with two arms, a
head on top of shoulders, and a torso that housed, among other oddities,
four lungs. His face wasn't even vaguely human. He had two eyes in
front, close enough for stereoscopic vision, but that was a common
characteristic of sapient life forms everywhere. His mouth was strictly
for eating; he breathed through separate intakes and outlets, one of each

on either side of his neck; he talked through the outlets and had his
scent and hearing organs in the intakes. The car was air-conditioned,
which was a mercy; an overheated Kwann exhaled through his skin,
and surrounded himself with