new home

by fred flynn

humbo and his tribe were left off at the fourth planet of the emigration run. there were thirty-one members of the tribe, five elders including humbo himself, eleven fullgrowns, and fifteen younguns. there were twelve males and nineteen females. judged by the size of the reception area, the planet was not a very large one, but this was not always a reliable indicator, so you never knew. some of the younguns looked around the reception area wonderingly, but the elders and fullgrowns had seen it all before. an orderly came by and gave them some food, in a sandwich form, and little bottles of water made from an unfamiliar substance. the sandwiches were pretty tasteless, though a few of the younguns turned up their noses at them, but the water was not too bad, though warm. humbo had a ticket with a number on it, and he held on to it tightly. he knew from experience that losing such a ticket, or having it stolen, was one of the worst things that could happen. after a few hours the number was called and humbo made his way to the front of the room where a functionary sat behind a desk. the tribe’s papers seemed to be in order, and the functionary had only a couple of questions. what have you people done? what can you do? we were fisherfolk on our home planet, sir, and have been that also on other planets when we could. there are no fish in this planet. we will have to find something else for you. i understand, sir. i like your attitude. the functionary looked down at his form. there is just one other matter. yes, sir. and that is the attitude of the other tribes toward you. we have three categories - indifference, hatred, and contempt, or laughter. there are no slots open for indifference, so your choices are hatred and contempt. humbo hesitated. come, fellow, i have not got all night. which is it to be - hatred, or laughter?