The Conquistadors Come

In Short

This science fiction story follows a crew of human explorers from a resource-starved Terra who arrive on the planet S'zetnu to mine a vital fuel called solaranium. They encounter a native population of deformed, starving, and non-verbal beings whom they initially pity. As the humans attempt to "civilize" and trade with the inhabitants, deep cultural misinterpretations turn the mission into a bloody confrontation. It is a bleak, cautionary tale about the arrogance of perspective, demonstrating how easily empathy can curdle into destruction when one side assumes they have nothing to learn from the other.

The Story

The space-freighter Eroica touches down on S'zetnu, a planet where the soil is barren and the native inhabitants are hideously stunted, fingerless, and seemingly afflicted by generations of malnutrition. To the crew, these creatures are pitiful, gargoyle-like curiosities. Captain Rob Cantrell and his first astrogator, Harris, view themselves as benevolent giants, eager to bring modern agriculture and "brotherly love" to the planet in exchange for the vast deposits of solaranium needed to save Earth’s economy.

The conflict begins with small, jarring interactions. Cantrell tries to show kindness, but his frustration with the natives’ groveling behavior leads him to lash out in disgust, notably kicking a small S'zetnur who tries to lick his foot. Though he later regrets the act, he justifies his presence through a lens of paternalistic charity. The humans see the natives as simple-minded savages, while the natives, bound by ancient, rigid traditions of beauty and hierarchy, view the humans as near-divine beings.

The misunderstanding reaches a breaking point when the crew discovers a small cave containing a hand-carved clay doll—an idealized, perfect image of a human. Seeing the doll, the crew immediately concludes that the natives are practicing "juju" or primitive voodoo to hex them. When a group of S'zetnurs approaches the site, the humans interpret their presence as a coordinated attack. Cantrell, fearing for his crew's safety, orders his men to open fire with blasters, slaughtering the natives.

In the aftermath, the Eroica lifts off, leaving behind a trail of death and a ruined mission. As they depart, the crew dismisses the natives as "greedy, ignorant morons" who were simply hostile to outsiders. A junior ethnologist aboard suggests a theory that the S'zetnurs were actually a desperate cult of beauty-worshippers who saw the humans as perfection and were attempting to engage in ritualistic mating or honor-giving. Cantrell laughs this suggestion off, maintaining his belief that the natives were the aggressors. The story ends with the crew reaffirming their bond, comfortably encased in their own ignorance, already planning to find another planet to exploit, never realizing the full extent of the tragedy they left behind.

How It Unfolds

The arrival The crew of the Eroica lands on the planet S'zetnu, immediately identifying it as a treasure trove of solaranium. They observe the local inhabitants, whom they perceive as diseased, deformed, and intellectually inferior.

The gesture of charity Captain Cantrell attempts to bridge the gap with gifts, such as a wristwatch, and promises of better food. However, his physical gestures of kindness are met with terror and groveling, creating immediate confusion between the two groups.

The kick A moment of intense disgust causes Cantrell to strike a native, causing him deep, immediate shame. He vows to make it up to the "poor slob," firmly believing he can still "save" the native population through Earth's technology.

The discovery While scouting for more ore, the crew finds a cave containing an idealized clay doll, which they interpret as a tool of sorcery. This confirms their paranoia that the "helpless" natives are actually a dangerous, plotting threat.

The clash An approaching group of natives is met with lethal force. The humans treat the event as a defensive victory against a primitive enemy, while the native survivors are forced to adhere to their own brutal, ancient laws of rejection.

The departure The humans abandon the planet, dismissing the natives as hostile failures. The crew leaves with their fuel, convinced of their own righteousness and largely indifferent to the society they just shattered.

The People

Rob Cantrell is the captain of the Eroica. He is a man of action who prides himself on being "fair" and "pleasant," yet he is driven by a deep-seated visceral revulsion toward anything he deems ugly or "deformed." His desire to help the natives is entirely contingent on them acting like the subordinates he expects them to be. When that expectation is challenged, his benevolence evaporates, replaced by a defensive, lethal pragmatism.

Harris is the first astrogator and Cantrell’s closest friend. He acts as the secondary voice of the crew—slightly more prone to pity than Cantrell, but ultimately subservient to the captain’s judgment. He wants to believe in the best version of their mission, frequently citing regulations and the potential for a "natural trade-alliance," but he lacks the moral independence to question Cantrell’s impulsive decisions.

The S'zetnurs are a silent, tragic presence. They are a race that has lost its power of speech and physical grace through generations of starvation. They function as a collective governed by rigid, ancient laws, viewing the "beautiful" humans with a mixture of religious awe and terrifying obligation. They are unable to communicate their intentions to the humans, and their attempts to participate in the humans' world—through ritualized gestures or offerings—are consistently misinterpreted as malice or stupidity.

In Its Own Voice

The handsome, fair-haired Conquistadors were welcomed by the S'zetnurs with open arms--the grasping, grotesque arms of a lost race of beauty-worshippers.

(This opening passage establishes the stark physical and cultural contrast between the invading crew and the native population.)

"There may be thousands of these joes, closing in on us right now from that jungle! Millions! All right, I'm in command," he said quietly. "Make a run for the camp. I ... I'll do it...."

(Cantrell justifies his decision to execute the native "spy" to his friend, demonstrating how he uses his command position to sanitize a cold-blooded act.)

What It's Really About

The book is a sharp interrogation of colonial arrogance. It argues that the true "glass wall" between cultures is not language, but the inability of a powerful group to see the humanity in those they consider inferior. The theme of "beauty-worshipping" serves as a tragic mirror; the S'zetnurs desperately cling to an ideal of perfection they no longer possess, while the humans mistake their own physical health and technical prowess for inherent moral superiority. The narrative suggests that when a society views the world solely through the lens of utility and "civilizing" missions, it becomes incapable of recognizing, let alone respecting, a foreign culture, inevitably turning potential cooperation into a cycle of misunderstanding and violence.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy mid-century science fiction will find this a compelling example of the genre's tendency to use "first contact" scenarios to critique contemporary human values. The prose is direct and pacey, characteristic of the pulp era, and it doesn't shy away from the darker aspects of human nature.

However, the reader should be prepared for the period-typical attitudes regarding "civilization" and the often dehumanizing descriptions of the native inhabitants. The story relies heavily on the trope of the "white explorer" whose actions are ultimately forgiven by his peers, regardless of the carnage he leaves behind. This is not a nuanced exploration of alien biology, but rather a character-driven study of how easily "good" men can commit atrocities when they convince themselves they are the victims. It remains memorable for its chillingly plausible depiction of how a mission meant to save a world can, through a lack of humility, end up destroying the very people it set out to help. The ending is particularly striking; it offers no redemption, only the comfort of the status quo for the victors and a hollow justification for their crimes. It is a cynical, effective piece of short fiction that lingers long after the final page.