"Guys, this is two out of two," said Heron, looking at his crew mates, "They seem intelligent but then the samples are just not confirming our first impressions."
"Your first impressions, Heron," said Nelson, "I have always said they were insufficient."
"Didn't you point out that spaceship thing as a sign of intelligence," said Byron, reminding Nelson of his earlier statements.
Nelson waved three of his hands dismissively, "I was just being part of the futile attempt to try and justify this venture. It was part of my team building and camaraderie. I knew all along they were inferior beings."
Heron dismissed the chatter and said, "Well, this time we might try to get a specimen away from the cities and towns. Perhaps we may find a rugged individual, perhaps someone untarnished by civilisation and whatever they are all on. It might be the noble savage for which some of our philosophers have argued."
"Yes, and they also found the noble savage was willing to throw it all away in a heart beat for decent dentistry, three meals a day and indoor plumbing," said Nelson dismissively.
"Whatever," said Byron, tasting this new word which seemed to fit so well, "Same plan as last time?"
Heron frowned thinking that the "Whatever" word did not seem to mean what he thought it did and answered, "Yes Byron. This time, don't wait for Nelson. Just grab the Dirtling straight away."
"Got it," said Byron, grinning at Heron with a confident smile, waving two of his hands in the air as a universal sign of agreement.
The ship was orbiting over a large land mass with lots of desert and jungle. Dirtlings seemed to be very sparse outside the cities, but Heron spotted one and zoomed in. The previous two Dirtlings had been pale beige with varying quantities of hair covering. This one was a really dark brown. Perhaps he would work better. Heron zoomed in the green square, it flashed and he pressed the blue button.
"Pow! Gotcha!" he cried and looked over to the Transmission pad again.
Byron was ready and as soon as the Dirtling materialised he reached forward to give a welcoming hug. But the Dirtling this time was shorter than the others by about two feet and his arms swooshed above the Dirtling's head. Nelson stopped his forward movement in mid stretch as the small Dirtling leapt backwards towards the edge of the ship and raised a stick like a weapon.
The Dirtling's eyes were darting all around trying to make sense of his surroundings. They were nothing like the open plains he had been walking in, but this must be one of the homes of the gods. The large blue things were certainly creatures he had never seen or heard about, but what did he know of the gods? The blue gods did not threaten him. In fact they were against the walls opposite and one was underneath some of the things in the room.
The Dirtling stopped threatening them with his weapon and smiled.
"Greetings," said Heron, "We come in peace."
The Dirtling just looked at Heron and smiled more broadly but didn't answer.
Heron looked across at Nelson to see if he knew what was happening and Nelson held up the black box in his hand. Heron realised that the Dirtling didn't understand him so figured it would be best to try a bit of charades. Considering the Dirtling was alert and armed, Heron couldn't see how he could place the black box on the Dirtling's neck.
Nelson stepped across gingerly, looking carefully at the Dirtling while handing the black box to Heron and then quickly went back to relative safety behind Byron. "I'm behind you all the way, Byron," Nelson whispered.
"Thanks," said Byron, relieved.
Heron held out the black box as if it was a gift and moved towards the Dirtling.
The Dirtling watched carefully and moved his weapon. Heron stopped. The Dirtling then reached into his pouch and produced an empty clear bottle, stretched out his hand and smiled at Heron.
The two approached each other warily, the Dirtling grinning broadly. Once they stood a few centimetres from each other, they swapped gifts and retreated to their relative sides.
"What's this?" asked Heron.
The black box did it's work with a little delay and the Dirtling understood the words. He stopped examining the box and stared at the blue god in front of him.
"What is this bottle you have given me?" asked Heron again.
"It is yours," answered the Dirtling, "You gave it to us, but we are not worthy so I was sent to return it."
Heron blinked. He thought translators would make all this so much easier, but all they did was translate the gibberish into equivalent words he could understand. But they weren't mind reading devices and showed the difference between a literal translation and a real understanding of the concepts behind the words. Heron realised that he would need to do a lot more studying to understand these Dirtlings.
"But it's not ours," said Byron while Heron was thinking, "We only just got here."
Now it was the Dirtling's turn to be confused. How could the gods not always be here?
Heron fell back to protocol.
"Greetings Dirtling. We come in peace."
"Good," replied the Dirtling.
Heron had been hoping for a bit more to go on. He went to his next question, "What are your hopes and dreams for the future?"
The Dirtling thought this was a strange thing for the gods to be asking, but he figured he had best answer succinctly, "Oh gods. I will take care and provide and protect my family and tribe, as they will do the same for me. As years go on, my children and tribe will take care of me and then I will move on the next life after I die."
"Gods?" said Heron, "Umm, we're not gods."
"Ahhh," thought the Dirtling, "They are testing me."
The Dirtling replied, "If you say so, O gods. I won't tell anyone else."
Heron looked at the others, "What do you think? His answer about life and so on seemed reasonable."
"Do some of the intelligence tests," said Nelson.
The next stage of the tests involved some basic intelligence tests, tailored for the subject being tested. These were a series of "select the odd one out of a series" type of quizzes. While they had been talking, the computer had generated a number of simple questions based on the local flora and fauna that anyone should pass.
"Can you pick the thing which doesn't belong?" Heron asked the Dirtling, while showing him his tablet which displayed four pictures. Three pictures were of birds and one was of a spider.
The Dirtling looked at it and picked the second picture of a bird.
"Are you sure?" asked Heron, "You are supposed to pick the thing that is not the same as the others."
The Dirtling insisted. These gods were being silly. Surely they knew that the bird he picked ate only berries while the other two birds and the spider all ate berries and insects.
Perplexed, Heron tried again. This time there were pictures of three flowers and a tree. The Dirtling picked the first flower.
"Really?" asked Heron. The Dirtling nodded, thinking to himself the gods were trying to trick him again. Everyone knew that the flower he picked only grew in the hills, while the other flowers and the tree only grew on the plains. These gods weren't going to deceive him.
Nelson looked at Heron and said, "Do we need to continue?"
"No," said Heron sadly, "Let's send him back."
"Can we have the black box back please?" asked Heron to the Dirtling.
The Dirtling looked horrified at the thought and quickly put the black box into his pouch and brandished his weapon again.
"On second thoughts," said Heron, "You can keep it," and he pressed the blue button and the Dirtling disappeared.
"What about his bottle?" asked Byron who was still holding the gift from the Dirtling.
"We don't want it," said Nelson, "Send it back."
So Byron placed the bottle onto the Transmission pad and Heron pressed the blue button.
The bottle disappeared.
*****
Nix!a had been travelling far from his family in his attempt to return the bottle that had disrupted their lives so much since falling from the sky. Although very useful, this bottle was difficult to share and caused too much dissension so he had been given the task of returning it to the gods. That was all fine in theory, but the Kalahari Desert in Africa is a large place and there aren't many places to hide gods. He was just about to give up when the gods found him.
And he had been able to trade the bottle for a black box.
With a big grin, Nix!a turned around and started making for home, looking curiously at his new gift.
Suddenly a monkey raced out of a nearby tree and snatched the box out of Nix!a's hands.
"Hey!" cried Nix!a, "You can't take that! It is my gift from the gods!"
"It's mine now!" he heard the monkey say as it raced off into the nearby jungle.
"Well, that was odd," thought Nix!a as his foot hit something solid.
Looking down, he saw that the bottle had reappeared in front of him. Sighing, Nix!a picked up the bottle, shook out the sand and turned around to continue his quest.
****
"Well, we have to get a fourth sample," said Heron, "And we want to get a positive result. So far we have three fails, not counting our first test of the transmission equipment." Heron looked towards Byron meaningfully, while Byron examined his hands very closely, avoiding Heron's gaze.
"Any ideas?" Heron continued, "We have tried a big city, a small town and the country. What shall we try next?"
Nelson sat back looking bored, sipping his Fizzy.
Byron looked up and started to say something but then sat back, embarrassed.
"Did you have an idea, Byron?" prompted Heron.
"Probably not," mumbled Nelson and Heron stared at him until Nelson looked away.
"Ummm, yeah," said Byron, "I've been looking at the transmissions and maybe we're missing something. There are a lot of transmissions which show really hairy Dirtlings, just like the ones we picked up, but with hair all over their bodies. Some of their animations had them talking, one was orange and looked like a King or something. There was even an older mono transmission, more of a series, that had lots of these hairy Dirtlings spying on each other. And there was another few movies with these hairy Dirtlings taking over the planet."
Nelson leaned forward, "Did you see the one with a huge hairy Dirtling that climbed a tall building and was fighting the other Dirtlings? I enjoyed that one."
"Yeah," answered Byron quickly, "It was also about a royal hairy Dirtling, King Kong, or something."
"Hmmm," pondered Heron, "Do you think that these are the real intelligence behind the rest of the Dirtlings we see? Why can't we find any of them in the cities?"
"Perhaps they have the rest of the Dirtlings do all the work and they live in the obviously more comfortable jungles," suggested Nelson, "Most of the films we have seen have them enjoying a life of luxury in the more enjoyable natural environment."
"Well, let's see if we can find them," said Heron, getting up and going to the control panel.
After a few hours of fruitless searching, Heron entered a special search routine into the computer and went back to his bunk. This could take some time if the true rulers of Dirt were hiding. He brought up the transmissions Byron had mentioned and replayed them with interest.
A week later the computer beeped an alert. Heron quickly raced to the control panel with Byron and Nelson close behind.
"There's a colony of them!" said Heron, moving the screen controls and zooming in for a closer look.
"Isn't this the same place we picked up the little dark Dirtling?" asked Nelson.
"It is," answered Heron, "And look, there's a little hairy Dirtling … and he's got our black box!"
"What?" said Byron as he squashed Heron into the control panel while leaning in for a closer look.
"Hmmm," mused Nelson, "Perhaps the Dirtling we returned gave the black box to his master upon returning home. This is interesting. It matches your theory, Byron."
Byron beamed a huge smile.
"OK, get in position guys," said Heron as he manipulated the green square onto the hairy master Dirtling.
Byron and Nelson rushed in position.
"If he has a black box, do we need to add a new one?" asked Nelson.
"Yes, just in case the old one is broken. See if you can get into a good position so we do a full scan. This one looks promising," said Heron.
"Here he is … got him!" Heron pressed the blue button and watched the transmission pad.
The hairy Dirtling appeared just in front of Byron who quickly reached for him. But the hairy Dirtling was very quick and raced up Byron's arms and stood on Byron's head.
"Can't catch me!" he said and jumped up and down.
Nelson jumped up and placed his black box on the closest part of the Dirtling, which was his upper thigh.
"Hey! Get off!" said the Dirtling as he jumped off Byron's head and clambered up to a top shelf of the room, clearing off all the supplies carefully placed there.
Heron stood up and slowly approached the Dirtling.
"Greetings Dirtling. We come in peace."
The Dirtling stopped looking around and stared closely at Heron.
"Why?" he asked.
Heron blinked.
"What do you mean, 'Why'?" said Heron.
"Why do you come in peace?" clarified the Dirtling.
"Because we want good relations between our peoples," answered Heron.
"Why?" asked the Dirtling.
"Because everyone wins when we have peace," replied Heron.
"Why?" repeated the Dirtling.
"Because I said so!" answered Heron, frustrated.
"OK," said the Dirtling and sat down on his shelf.
"Who are you?" asked Heron.
"Lance," said the Dirtling, "Who are you?"
"I am Heron, this is Byron and he is Nelson," answered Heron, pointing at his companions in turn.
Byron interrupted, "Do you know Lancelot Link?"
"Not telling," answered Lance, "It's a secret."
"Of course," said Byron, confirmed in his suspicions. No one who was involved in the spy game told anyone information like that.
"Lance," said Heron, "How did you get that black box?"
"The Bushman gave it to me. It's mine," said Lance.
"It is our gift to you," said Heron, "It helps us communicate."
"Why?" asked Lance.
"Because we want to talk and discuss important matters," replied Heron.
"Why?" asked Lance.
Heron wasn't going down this path again so asked the more important question, "Lance, what are your dreams and plans for the future?"
"Why?" asked Lance.
"Just tell me!" said a frustrated Heron.
"Well, I want to rule the world and be King. Then everyone will be happy," Lance replied.
"Do you rule now?" asked Heron.
"Yes!" said Lance, "I am in charge. Everyone does what I say!"
"What about your people? Why are they in the Jungle and not in the cities?" asked Nelson.
"We don't want to be in the silly people cities. We want to be home where it is cool and we are in peace and have all the food we need," answered Lance.
Heron glanced at Nelson and gestured for him to keep going. Heron looked at his control panel and commenced the scanning. Even though it was on the creature's thigh, it should give results if they kept him talking long enough.
Nelson cleared his throat.
"Oh, King Lance," he began, "We are visitors from a far land and …"
"Where from?" interrupted Lance.
"A long way away," said Nelson, "Amongst the stars."
"No, you're not," said Lance.
"Yes we are," said Nelson.
"Nope," insisted Lance.
"Yes we are," said Nelson and looked to Byron who shook his head side to side in the universal sign of agreement.
"See," said Lance pointing at Byron, "He says you're not."
"What?" asked a confused Nelson, looking at Byron, who looked back with an equally confused expression.
"Got it!" interrupted Nelson. The scanner came back with a result of 95 with a potential of 105 which meant there was good potential intelligence.
"King Lance," said Heron, "Thank you for your time."
Lance looked at the blue alien in front of him and jumped down onto the table.
"We will return you home now," said Heron and reached for the blue button.
Lance faded from view and the trio were silent for a moment.
"I think we can give that specimen a pass," said Heron.
"So, what does that mean?" asked Byron, "Three fails and a pass?"
"It should mean Off Limits, if we're lucky," said Heron, "So we get a bonus, even if it is not a huge one."
They all sat around the table and Nelson suddenly sat up straight.
"Hey, did either of you take my Fizzy?"
*****
Lance reappeared at the edge of the Jungle clutching his stolen bottle of Fizzy. He looked into the bottle and listened at the opening. He then stuck a finger in the bottle and licked the fluid that stuck to his finger.
"Blah!" he said as he spat and tried to clean off his tongue. Lance turned the bottle upside down and emptied the contents onto the ground in disgust.
He climbed up a large tree to see where he was and looked around. Not too far away he could see where his family would be and then below him he saw the Bushman that had given him the black box.
Nix!a was walking along the edge of the jungle very pleased with himself. He had reached the edge of the world and thrown the bottle into the endless cloud below. Now he could return home and greet his family with the knowledge of a mission well accomplished. Suddenly from out of the sky a bottle landed just in front of him. He looked upwards and couldn't see anything and looked downwards and saw the new bottle. This was the same as the bottle from the blue gods' house.
Sighing once more he picked up the bottle and turned around to start his long walk back to the end of the world. Again.
Lance snickered as he raced back through the trees to his family. The first chimpanzee that saw him was a lot larger than Lance.
"Mum! Mum!" Lance yelled, "I have been talking with big blue animals!"
His mother gave him a loving hard whack across the back of Lance's head.
"Now don't you go running off without telling me, you silly thing, or next time I'll tell your Father."
"Why?" asked Lance out of habit.
His mother cuffed him, which was the correct response.