by Hal Clement
Rodin did not answer, but turned on his heel and strode back to the library, Vickers close behind. He found the index Vickers had used, checked its source of information, and located the indicated volume on the shelves. He thumbed through this for a moment, stopped, and read silently for a minute or two; then he handed the tome to Vickers and indicated the proper section. Vickers read, and slowly understood.
“—a Coronae Borealis is the name-star of a group of suns characterized photometrically by a light-curve of the form shown, and spectroscopically by the presence of strong carbon indications. It was suggested long before interstellar travel was achieved that the light variations were caused by temporary condensations of carbon vapor in the stellar atmospheres; and the correctness of this assumption was shown in the excellent series of photographs made by the Galactic Survey ship Zenith, which follow the formation of masses of carbon clouds through a full cycle from the beginning of condensation to complete dispersal. The actual mechanism and processes involved have not been closely studied, but it has been suggested that such a study should be conducted by a composite board of astrophysicists and meteorologists, as the phenomena seem to bear strong resemblance to those of planetary weather.
“ ‘The Zenith noted the presence of two planets in a cursory photographic sweep of the R Coronae system, but they were not closely examined, nor was the possibility of the presence of others eliminated.’ “
Rodin nodded slowly as Vickers finished his reading.
“You called the shot very nicely a few minutes ago,” he said, “when you called that black line a cold front. I should say that you were one hundred percent right. Blast it, to be a meteorologist in this system I’d have to know more astrophysics than a lot of Federation professors. You’ve certainly let me make an awful idiot of myself in front of those Heklans.”
“Do you really think so?” asked Vickers seriously. “I don’t see how they could expect you to know any better. You’re a meteorologist, not an astronomer, as you said.”
“On this planet, the distinction is probably narrow to the point of invisibility. Their weather men would have to be first-rate solar physicists. I must have seemed to them like a self-opinionated, bungling incompetent — insisting time after time on the feasibility of a plan whose greatest flaw would have been obvious to a Heklan layman. I don’t want to go back to that station, Alf — I couldn’t face one of those people now.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to,” replied Vickers. “I sympathize with you, and am extremely sorry for your sake that it turned out this way; but from my point of view it’s the best thing that could have happened. I hoped for something good to eventuate from your visit, but I didn’t dare hope for this much.”
Rodin’s interjection at this point was of an interrogative and profane nature. Vickers smiled slightly, set the ship in motion once again toward Observatory Hill, and began to explain.
“I told you at the time of your arrival,” he said, “that I feared I had unwittingly aroused in our hosts a fear of the competitive aspects of our Federation culture. That was quite true and correct, so far as it went. There was a little more than that to the situation, however. The Heklans had appreciated a still more fundamental fact about us. With interplanetary and interstellar travel, an already existing and working form of interworld government, with our knowledge of space and time and matter which cropped up occasionally and inevitably in my conversations with Serrnak Deg, it was glaringly obvious to them that our civilization was materially far in advance of theirs; that their achievements, compared to ours, were childish. As that realization sank in, they began to react in a fashion too painfully human not to be recognized.
“If something weren’t done about that reaction, Hekla would not only refuse the minor dealing with us such as our attempt to sell them metal and machines represents — they would, for their own protection, refuse to have anything whatever to do with the Federation and its component races. You know what has happened on other planets when a culturally and mentally inferior race was forced into contact with their betters. They died out, rapidly, and the cause was not deliberate extermination. In many cases, strenuous efforts were made to preserve them. Such things happened on Earth long before man left the planet; and it has happened all over the Galaxy since then.
“The Heklans are not our mental inferiors; they are intelligent enough to recognize a danger which must have been completely new to them, and to act on it in the only possible way — although that way is not a very good one, even from their own viewpoint. They may get rid of us, but they would have a hard time forgetting us.”
“Are you sure they recognize the danger?” interjected Rodin.
“Reasonably sure; and even if they don’t, it is none the less real — and our making fools of ourselves is just as good a cure. We showed them a field — probably not the only one, but certainly the most obvious — in which they are not merely our equals but have advanced far beyond us. We showed them in a way that will penetrate — their sense of humor seems to be as well developed as ours; and we showed them at the relatively minor price of your reputation — and mine, of course.” The last phrase was an afterthought inspired by Rodin’s attitude. The meteorologist calmed himself again with an effort, and asked a question.
“When did you realize what was happening to them, and what led you to that belief?”
“After my first long conversation with Serrnak Deg, I started to return to the ship alone. By an error, I stopped the elevator at the wrong level, and saw a room full of electrical machinery. I am not a scientist, but I think I know a teletype keyboard when I see it. Before I could see more, I was hustled out of the room. When I got back to the ship, I spent quite a while searching the frequency bands we have found practical for communication. I heard nothing, and yet the station was obviously in constant contact with the rest of the planet — even I know that a weather map can’t be kept up to date otherwise. Disregarding the remote chance that they had either medium transmitters or a means of radiant communication undreamed of by us, it seemed obvious that the station was actually connected by metallic cables with other centers of communication. The method is primitive, as even you will admit; why should they conceal the installation from me, if they were not ashamed of its simplicity?
“Later, when they showed us around the station, and failed to hide any of the other primitive equipment such as internal combustion engines, I was sure they had decided to give up the attempt to conceal the inferiority they felt in the face of our apparatus. Deg had visited the lifeboat by then, remember. They were planning then, and must have been planning until we started this trip, to break with us completely.
“You can see why I didn’t tell you this before. I’m not sure I should have told you now, because it will be necessary for you to go back to that station and not only admit your ignorance to Marn and Deg, but put the capping stone on the business by asking for enlightenment. I hope you have the intestinal fortitude to do it.”
Rodin smiled wryly.
“I guess I can’t let you down, since you’ve gone this far. Perhaps I can make up the face I’ve lost here by staying a while, learning some Heklan meteorology, and publishing a few papers for the benefit of the rest of the Galaxy. I can be the first non-Heklan stellar meteorologist, anyway, which ought to have some weight with my beloved colleagues. All right, Alf, I’ll try it.”
Vickers nodded and smiled slightly, as he altered the course slightly to bear toward the cloud banner of Observatory Hill, now vaguely visible in the distance.
“I was sure you would. After all, reputation or no scientific reputation, you have a job for which you get paid, same as I. Just don’t lose any chance of building up to the Heklans the importance of their contributions to the meteorological knowledge of the Federation races.”
“I won’t,” answered Rodin, “and it won’t need much of my help. They really have something that will drive some of my friends wild, and will probably rock the astronomers slightly in their se
ats.
“But speaking of jobs, you also have one; and how does your proving to all concerned that it is impractical to work on Hekla’s climate fit in with a program supposed to sell large quantities of metal?”
Vickers set the ship gently down on the ramp before turning to face his friend.
“That was solved some time ago. My motives in assuring successful relations with this race were not entirely humanitarian, though of course I don’t regret the good I’m doing. My personal problem, of sales, was solved long ago, as I say; but without any Heklans the solution would be somewhat impractical. Hence the call for your invaluable assistance. Tell me, Dave, what you do if the landlord won’t repair the air conditioner in your apartment?” He smiled at the look of comprehension on the other’s face. “Of course. Granting the availability of other quarters, you move.
“There are certainly other quarters available for the Heklans, even if they are restricted to the systems of red giant stars; and the Federation can undoubtedly find a number of suitable worlds in a very few years, even if they are not already known.
“Any race that goes in for colonization in a big way, Dave, is going to need spaceships in considerable numbers; and I am sure that Belt Metals will be only too glad to provide them. In fact, I think we might both draw a very comfortable bonus on such a transaction; and I plan, at the first opportune moment, to put the proposition to Serrnak Deg.”
Vickers rose from the control seat, touching as he did so the switch that opened the inner air lock door.
“I think that covers all the problems of the moment,” he said, as he struggled into a jacket. “Now come on into that station with me, Dave. I want to see you eat humble pie!”
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