The Merchandise Guide
Annual 1977

chi and the others could hear every breath they drew.    "Should be in sight any moment now, Com- mander," said Carter, tersely. "Any theories?"    "Aliens. Must be. What else would explain the movement Hallam saw? Yes - and that was no meteor- ite we logged, Alan. It looked like one - but it must have been some kind of spacecraft!"    Both Koenig and Carter were prepared for a shock. What they got was far beyond even their wildest expectations. Alien there were - just six of them. But aliens like monsters from some dreadful night- mare!    "My oath!" Carter's voice was shaking. "They - they're horrible!"    Koenig fought to control his own revulsion. He pointed through the screens of the Eagle's beak. "There are Hallam and Whitney. Looks to me like they're unharmed." The moon buggy had slewed, and its occupants were slumped in loose, unconscious poses. The aliens - the monsters - had surrounded them, but had apparently made no hostile move.    One of the hideous, coagulated faces turned slowly upwards to fix them with a wide, unblinking stare as Koenig and Carter switched to hover and sank gently down.    "You - you're not just gonna open up, Com- mander?" whispered the chief pilot.    Koenig just had time to shake his head before the alien spoke. At least, that was how it seemed. There was nothing in the way of radio transmissions, and no sound could have carried in the airless void. It was as though his voice, projected by telepathic means, invaded their minds. And from the gasps that came from the audio monitor, Koenig knew that the people in Main Mission could hear it, too.    "We thought this place to be uninhabited. We seem

to be guilty of trespass."    Koening spoke aloud, and the alien must have re- ceived his thought patterns.    "Who are you? Where did you come from?"    "We are Lamnians, from the planet Lamnos. We are explorers, dedicated to the welfare of our people."    Koenig licked his lips. They were sand-dry. "What do you mean - welfare?"    The aliens had gathered in a body facing up at the Eagle. Alan shuddered and looked away at Hallam and Whitney. To his relief, he saw them stir as they began to come out of their totally understandable dead faint.    "Welfare?" The alien leader echoed Koenig's question. "Survival, then. We feed upon the mater- ials you have apparently stockpiled here. Upon nuclear waste. Unfortunately, out stocks are low. Our scanners detected the presence of it on this sphere. Hence our presence. I am sorry," he added, "that we were considering stealing it. I suppose you have need of it yourselves."    "No." Koenig shook his head, inwardly thinking that the alien didn't sound as sorry as he made out. "It is useless to us. Indeed, in certain circumstances, it can be a positive danger. Like now. I must insist that you replace the chute covers you've disturved."    There was only a moment's hesitation. Then . . . "With pleasure. And I feel this calls for a conference. I am Borg, incidentally. And you . . ?"    "Commander John Koenig. But listen, Borg. You can't possibly approach our headquarters here! You must be of a completely different metabolism. You must be so radioactive that you'd destroy us within seconds!"    "You shouldn't have told him that, Commander," said Carter. "Or maybe, you should've added that we've got lasers that could atomise him and his

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