The Kenzie Report

by Mark Clifton

office over experimentalrequisitions. Every year, Old Rock Jaw promised to fire us all, if wedidn't cut costs, but in a couple of weeks we always forgot about it.

  Trouble was, the Chief had been getting edgy about costs lately, so weknew it was about time for the annual budget battle. Significantly, hedidn't say a word to Kenzie about the gadget.

  * * * * *

  As luck would have it, I was working late one night on a specialpermit. My bench is over in a wing of the lab, and I guess the Chiefforgot I was around. I saw a very pretty scene.

  The Chief had built up a habit of staying late so he could stand andstudy over the Kenzie gadget. He never touched it, though. He knewenough not to bother anything, because we all knew how bitter Kenziewas when anybody touched his things.

  The Chief was standing there this evening when the General Manager,Old Rock Jaw, was showing some important personages through the plantafter hours. They came through the lab door, and I saw scrambled eggsand fruit salad shining all over bulging uniforms. There was also onelittle geezik in a pin-striped suit. Old Rock Jaw was talking, asusual.

  "... and it is from this room, gentlemen," he was saying, "That someof those revolutionary discoveries emanate!"

  Then he caught sight of the Chief, who had hastily picked up a coldsoldering iron and was tentatively touching a random point on the newmechanism.

  "Ah-h!" Old Rock Jaw exclaimed with satisfaction. "Here is our chiefscientist now. Still at work. He watches no clock, gentlemen. He knowsno time. His whole life is wrapped up in his research!"

  The Chief didn't look around, but bent closer to the soldering point.He looked like he hoped they would limit their inspection to a cursorylook about and then retire. I hoped they would too, I didn't want themto see me.

  But Old Rock Jaw, in more of a blowhard mood even than usual, couldn'tlet well enough alone. He came up close to the Chief, and looked overhis shoulder at the mechanism. He was even more ignorant than theChief, so I knew he wouldn't recognize any of it.

  "Don't let us disturb you, Alfred," he breathed in a hushed voice."But could you tell the gentlemen what you are working on now?" Hecleared his throat importantly and said, "I might add that everyonehere has been security cleared, Alfred, so you may speak freely."

  The Chief still did not lift his eyes from his work. He didn't dare.He carefully turned an unconnected control knob a hairsbreadth withutmost deliberation and precision.

  "Multimicrofrequidometer," the Chief mumbled, and buried his headstill deeper into the mechanism.

  "Ah yes, of course. But you have a new hook up," the General Managerbluffed. "I hardly recognized it at first. Startling!" he breathed.

  He looked around triumphantly at the impressed brass and braid. Helooked pointedly at the pin-striped suit who probably controlledcongressional purse strings.

  "Apparently he is at a point where he cannot divert his attention tous, gentlemen," he breathed in a hushed voice. He placed his fingersto his lips and began to tip-toe backwards toward the door.

  The beef trust in fancy uniform came up on their own toesies, and alsotiptoed away from the genius scientist. By now, the genius wasbeginning to exude large drops of sweat.

  The door closed behind them, and the Chief dropped the cold solderingiron with a sigh of relief. He took hold of his tongue, where he musthave been biting into it. He wiped his forehead and fingers with hisbreast-pocket handkerchief.

  Both the Chief and I heard the party walking down the hall and intoanother wing of the building. I still didn't make a sound. It wouldnever do for the Chief to know he had been observed. After a suitabletime, the Chief, also, tiptoed out of the lab, and he was mumbling tohimself as I have never seen him mumble before.

  * * * * *

  Several days later another thing appeared on Kenzie's work bench. Thistime it was a large rectangular glass aquarium. It was filled withmoist earth. Now here was something new in electronics!

  We shook our heads. One of the techs, who fancied himself apsychologist, said the boys were suffering from retrogressivedementia. They had gone so far back into childhood, they had to playsand box. The Chief overheard the tech, and spoke up plaintively.

  "But I don't see any celluloid spade and bucket," he said. He seemedrelieved when we burst out laughing.

  His relief didn't last long, however. It changed to more worry when hesaw the boys carefully sprinkling bread and meat crumbs over thesurface of the sand. Then on top of that they dropped moist bits ofcake icing. When Pringle brought down a marigold plant, all coveredwith aphis, and transplanted it in a corner of the aquarium, theChief again ran into his office and began to hold his head in hishands.

  More days passed. The gadget became a bristling porcupine of testclips. By now the boys had forgotten they were working for the Companyand spent practically all their time on the whoozits. The Chief becameso fascinated, in a kind of horror-stricken manner, that he did notmention the aquarium to Kenzie at all.

  The rest of us also kept away from that side of the lab. Ever sinceKenzie had started on the gadget, he had no time for us, or helping uswith our problems. If we spoke to him he snapped back at us, until Iguess all our noses were out of joint. By the time the aquariumappeared, we were ignoring him and everything he did.

  In a few more weeks the aquarium was swarming with ants. It was easyto see their tunnels running up and down the sides of the glass. Iwill say this for the boys. They set it in a huge pan of water. Noneof us could legitimately squawk about getting ants mixed up with ouranatomy.

  The Chief showed he was mixed with disappointment and elation when theboys asked clearance to work nights in the lab. Disappointed since hecould no longer stay late and follow the progress; elated because theboys must really be getting hot.

  Annual budget time was getting closer, and we could see the wheelsgoing around in his mind. It would be a nice thing if he could deliverthe multiwhoozits gadget just before the big fight for appropriations.

  As far as we knew, the only interest the General Manager had shown wasthe time he asked the Chief in the hall how that multiwhoozits wascoming along. Even in that question, it was evident Old Rock Jaw wasasking out of a rare politeness only--there being no big shots aroundto impress.

  It was doubtful if the G.M. heard the Chief's vague answer, becausethe old boy was mumbling to himself about rising costs and having tocut down expenses. He waddled on down the hall. He was still mumblingas he went, but both the Chief and I heard one sentence clearly.

  "And certain salaries and bonuses will have to be cut."

  The Chief turned pale.

  So he granted Kenzie's request with alacrity--and hoped he wouldfinish the gadget in time.

  For two more weeks the Chief waited patiently, or maybe impatiently.He knew the boys were working every night, because the security policecomplained about their pinochle game being interrupted to let Kenzieand Pringle in and out.

  Both the boys began to get a feverish look in their faces. Theircheeks grew hollow. Their eyes were bloodshot. Their regular worksuffered even more. The Chief thought he was being considerate when helifted some of their work and shoved it over to the rest of us.

  We were already sore at the boys and we didn't take it too kindly.Just the same, we didn't let our squawk get beyond the walls of thelab. No use letting that nosy Personnel Department get an excuse tostart holding hands, patting on the back, and radiating aid andcomfort to all.

  Then--a certain Monday came.

  * * * * *

  The Chief came in, a little late as usual. Some of the newer guyspretended to be busy, but we were all watching to see what he woulddo. There is a back door to the Chief's office which he seldom usesand which he always keeps locked. But it opens into the lab wing rightat my table. It wasn't my fault, in fiddling around a little with thelock, it came unstuck and the door opened a little so I could hearwhat went on.

  When the Chief came in, both the boys were busy
dismantling thegadget. Discouragement and hopelessness were written all over theirfaces, in the dejected slope of their shoulders, in the lackadaisicalmovements of their arms. Piece by piece, through the glass partitionof his office wall, the Chief watched the gadget being taken apart.Each piece was carefully taken back and placed in stock for re-use.

  That alone was enough to create great alarm for their sanity. Imaginea technician putting a piece back to be used over!

  Finally the Chief could bear it no longer. He called them into hisoffice. He carefully shut the door, but he didn't notice the back doorswung open a little farther. I found it necessary to work close to thecrack, and if I turned around, I could get a good view of the entireoffice.

  The Chief waved the boys into chairs across from his desk. He sat downand placed his fingertips together. Even then, I could see his handswere shaking. He leaned forward and asked with careful sympathy in hisvoice.

  "Didn't it work?"

  "Yeah," Kenzie answered in a bored voice. "It worked." I was surprisedat Kenzie's voice. Usually he talked with the concise enunciation of aprofessor. Now he sounded like maybe just a good lab tech.

  "Then why are you dismantling it?" the Chief asked with a worriedfrown.

  "It wouldn't be good for people to know about it," Pringle burst out.

  "I don't understand," the Chief faltered. Then desperately, "Look,fellows. I've given you a lotta leeway. You've sluffed your worksomething terrible. That's all right to an extent. I've covered foryou."

  "Thanks, Chief," Kenzie said drily.

  "But Old Rock--er--the General Manager," the Chief complained, "knowsI've been working on something. Now what with budgets coming on, andall, I gotta have something to show!"

  "_You've_ been working on something--" Pringle exclaimed.

  "I mean my department has," the Chief covered himself hastily. "I'mresponsible for what goes on in my department, you know. I gotta havesome kind of an explanation." He was almost wailing now. "What withbudgets coming on, and all."

  "Make up your own explanation," Kenzie answered disinterestedly."It's a cinch you can't give out with the real one."

  The Chief began to wheedle. "You two boys know the explanation. Whycan't you tell me? This is your Chief who's talking, boys. The one whohas always stood by you and covered for you. Remember? You just gottatell me, boys." I saw Pringle and Kenzie look at one another.

  "I guess he's right, Ken," Pringle said. "That is, if he promisesnever to tell anybody."

  "Yeah. I guess so." Kenzie nodded his head in agreement. "We owe himthat much for just letting us alone."

  The Chief let out a big sigh of relief.

  "It's about ants," Kenzie began.

  "Now, now, Kenzie boy," the Chief interrupted hurriedly. "Let's stayon the subject, shall we? Let's not get off on that tangent again,Kenzie boy. Shall we?"

  "Nuts," Kenzie said.

  "But this is about ants, Chief," Pringle answered. Then shrewdly, "Butfirst you gotta promise, Chief."

  "All right, I promise," the Chief acceded testily.

  "It's about ants," Kenzie repeated stubbornly. The Chief winced, buthe held his peace.

  "They're intelligent," Kenzie said profoundly, and stopped.

  "I know," the Chief prompted. "I know, Kenzie boy. You've been sayingthat all along."

  "I communicated with them," Kenzie said flatly.

  "You what?" The Chief's eyes bugged out. I guess mine did too.

  "Sure," Kenzie answered. "After a fashion, that is. In their anthersthey've got a chitin cell diaphragm. Modified cellular structure. Theycommunicate with a sort of microwave. Roughly you might say itgenerates and radiates like our brain wave. Roughly, very roughly.This chitin diaphragm picks up the microwave like our ears pick upsound. Roughly, that is."

  "But that's wonderful," the Chief glowed. It didn't take muchimagination to see him in the General Manager's office explaining howhis multiwhoozits gadget worked. Maybe nothing immediately commercialabout it, but when the publicity office got hold of it--man, it wouldmean plenty of free publicity for the Company. And how Old Rock Jawloved free publicity!

  "We tuned in on them," Kenzie was saying. "By putting different kindsof food around, and by making different kinds of disturbances, weworked out a crude sort of vocabulary."

  "You did--" the Chief exclaimed.

  "Nothing fancy, you understand," Kenzie belittled his achievement."But enough so when we broadcast a sugar wave, they came running tothe surface to see where it was. When we broadcast a water wave, theyrushed to the ant nursery and started carrying eggs to high ground."

  "Glory be--" the Chief breathed. In his eyes there was the vision ofworld renowned scientists patting him on the back. Maybe even moreimportant, Old Rock Jaw was actually smiling, and telling him hecould have unlimited funds in his budget.

  "Sure," Kenzie said bitterly. "Sure that was all very fine. Big shots,we were going to be, Pringle and me. First time in history man hadtalked with an insect. Maybe even get our pictures in the paper, sameas if we'd murdered somebody. Fame!"

  "Yeah," Pringle chimed in. "First step in learning how to communicatewith an alien mind. Nuts!"

  "I don't get it," the Chief stammered. "What's wrong with that?"

  "Well, we went on perfecting the vocabulary," Kenzie said. "You know.Fining it down. Had the little beggars practically standing on theirheads at times with our wave." He grinned at the memory and seemed toshake off some of his lethargy.

  "You shoulda been here the night Pringle had them marching information." His face fell again.

  "We kept on improving the gadget," he said with hangdog attitude. "Westill hadn't made direct communication, you understand. Nothing like'How do you do, Mrs. Ant? This is Kenzie MacKenzie, human, talking.'"Then he sneered at his memory.

  "With our microwave we could make them do things. But hell, you canmake them run out of the ground by pouring water down their hole.That's not communication! We couldn't seem to contact themdirect--make them know we were communicating."

  "But you still--" the Chief said. He had visions of every home using agadget to broadcast "keep away" signals to ant pests.

  "Our gadget was still crude at that point," Kenzie interrupted. "Wefined it down, more and more. That's when we began to pick up the starstatic."

  "Star static?" the Chief faltered.

  "He wouldn't know about that," Pringle said, and I could detectcontempt in his voice, even if the Chief didn't.

  "Sure he would," Kenzie corrected. "Everybody knows about the fifty orso stars that send out continuous radio signals, and how we've beentrying for years to unscramble them."

  "Why certainly," the Chief said, so positively I knew he hadn't heardof it before.

  "Anyway," Kenzie said. "The more we worked out the vocabulary code,the more the star signals began to fit right into it. So we decided tobreak up the thing, and forget all about ants. Honest Chief, you'llnever hear me mention the word again."

  "Termites either," Pringle chimed in.

  "But I still don't understand," the Chief complained. "It still allsounds marvelous. I just don't understand."

  "Draw him a picture," Pringle said disgustedly.

  "Okay," Kenzie acceded. "How many years would you say ants have beenon earth, Chief?"

  "Oh, I don't know," the Chief answered. "Quite a few, I'd say."

  "Yeah," Kenzie said drily. "Quite a few. At least a million.Unchanged. A perfect life form with a perfect civilization. Soperfect, nature hasn't seen any need to change them for a millionyears."

  "So what?" the Chief asked. "They're nothing. We come along and makethem do nip ups."

  "Yeah," Kenzie was bitter again. "We humans go around talking abouthow brave and smart we are. How someday we might even get so smartwe'll contact other intelligent races on other worlds. Yeah, we'resmart. You know those star radiations?"

  "That's not my specialty, you know," the Chief answered cautiously.

  "Some of those radiations started out from their home plan
et a million_light_ years ago," Pringle said quietly.

  "So what again?" the Chief asked.

  "Those radiations," Kenzie said, "happen to be communications betweenthe galaxies--beamed at the ants. Sort of a continuous radio programbroadcast universe wide. It happens the ants, maybe termites, maybeother insects, are spread through all the galaxies. It happens _they_are the dominant intelligent race throughout the universe." Heshrugged in disgust.

  "Us big brave humans," he said contemptuously. "Someday we might evenreach Mars. Hell, those ants have been colonizing for hundreds ofmillions of years. They're still communicating. They are the realintelligence on the earth!"

  He crushed a cigarette fiercely into a glass ash tray on the desk.

  "Only thing man has got, or ever had, was his ego. He's got to believehe's top dog, or else he folds and quits. Yeah, we're smart all right.Hell, we're so far down the scale the ants don't even recognize us asa life form at all."

  Pringle nodded soberly. "Yeah," he said to the Chief, "how would youlike to explain a gadget that proved ants have more brains than