Tomorrow, the Stars

by Robert A. Heinlein

  "It has been to me."

  "The others do not understand that too great a direct­ness is dangerous. They ask specific questions which demand specific replies, when they should ask something general."

  "You haven't answered me."

  "It is part of an answer to say that a question is im­portant. I am considered by your rulers a valuable piece of property. They should ask whether my value is as great as it seems. They should ask whether my an­swering questions will do good or harm."

  "Which is it?"

  "Harm, great harm."

  Siebling was staggered. He said, "But if you answer truthfully—"

  "The process of coming at the truth is as precious as the final truth itself. I cheat you of that. I give your people the truth, but not all of it, for they do not know how to attain it of themselves. It would be better if they learned that, at the expense of making many errors."

  "I don't agree with that."

  "A scientist asks me what goes on within a cell, and I tell him. But if he had studied the cell himself, even though the study required many years, he would have ended not only with this knowledge, but with much other knowledge, of things he does not even suspect to be related. He would have acquired many new processes of investigation."

  "But surely, in some cases, the knowledge is useful in itself. For instance, I hear that they're already using a process you suggested for producing uranium cheaply to use on Mars. What's harmful about that?"

  "Do you know how much of the necessary raw material is present? Your scientists have not investigated that, and they will use up all the raw material and discover only too late what they have done. You had the same experience on Earth? You learned how to purify water at little expense, and you squandered water so recklessly that you soon ran short of it."

  "What's wrong with saving the life of a dying patient, as some of those doctors did?"

  "The first question to ask is whether the patient's life should be saved."

  "That's exactly what a doctor isn't supposed to ask. He has to try to save them all. Just as you never ask whether people are going to use your knowledge for a good purpose or a bad. You simply answer their questions."

  "I answer because I am indifferent, and I care nothing what use they make of what I say. Are your doctors also indifferent?"

  Siebling said, "You're supposed to answer questions, not ask them. Incidentally, why do you answer at all?"

  "Some of your men find joy in boasting, in doing what they call good, or in making money. Whatever mild pleasure I can find lies in imparting information."

  "And you'd get no pleasure out of lying?"

  "I am as incapable of telling lies as one of your birds of flying off the Earth on its own wings."

  "One thing more. Why did you ask to talk to me, of all people, for recreation? There are brilliant scientists, and great men of all kinds whom you could have chosen."

  "I care nothing for your race's greatness. I chose you because you are honest."

  "Thanks. But there are other honest men on Earth, and on Mars, and on the other planets as well. Why me, instead of them?"

  The Sack seemed to hesitate. "Your choice gave me a mild pleasure. Possibly because I knew it would be displeasing to those men."

  Siebling grinned. "You're not quite so indifferent as you think you are. I guess it's pretty hard to be indifferent to Senator Horrigan."

  This was but the first part of many conversations with the Sack. For a long time Siebling could not help being disturbed by the Sack's warning that its presence was a calamity instead of a blessing for the human race, and this in more ways than one. But it would have been ab­surd to try to convince a government body that any ob­ject that brought in so many millions of credits each day was a calamity, and Siebling didn't even try. And after awhile Siebling relegated the uncomfortable knowledge to the back of his mind, and settled down to the routine existence of Custodian of the Sack.

  Because there was a conversation every twenty hours, Siebling had to rearrange his eating and sleeping schedule to a twenty-hour basis, which made it a little difficult for a man who had become so thoroughly accustomed to the thirty-hour space day. But he felt more than repaid for the trouble by his conversations with the Sack. He learned a great many things about the planets and the system, and the galaxies, but he learned them incidentally, without making a special point of asking about them. Because his knowledge of astronomy had never gone far beyond the elements, there were some questions—the most important of all about the galaxies—that he never even got around to asking.

  Perhaps it would have made little difference to his own understanding if he had asked, for some of the an­swers were difficult to understand. He spent three entire periods with the Sack trying to have that mastermind make clear to him how the Sack had been able, without any previous contact with human beings, to understand Captain Ganko's Earth language on the historic occasion when the Sack had first revealed itself to human beings, and how it had been able to answer in practically unaccented words. At the end, he had only a vague glimmering of how the feat was performed.

  It wasn't telepathy, as he had first suspected. It was an intricate process of analysis that involved, not only the actual words spoken, but the nature of the ship that had landed, the spacesuits the men had worn, the way they had walked, and many other factors that indicated the psychology of both the speaker and his language. It was as if a mathematician had tried to explain to someone who didn't even know arithmetic how he could determine the equation of a complicated curve from a short line segment. And the Sack, unlike the math­ematician, could do the whole thing, so to speak, in its head, without paper and pencil, or any other external aid.

  After a year at the job, Siebling found it difficult to say which he found more fascinating—those hour-long conversations with the almost all-wise Sack, or the cleverly stupid demands of some of the men and women who had paid their hundred thousand credits fir a precious sixty seconds. In addition to the relatively simple questions such as were asked by the scientists or the fortune hunters who wanted to know where they could find precious metals, there were complicated questions that took several minutes.

  One woman, for instance, had asked where to find her missing son. Without the necessary data to go on, even the Sack had been unable to answer that. She left, to return a month later with a vast amount of information, carefully compiled, and arranged in order of descending importance. The key items were given the Sack first, those of lesser significance afterward. It required a little less than three minutes for the Sack to give her the answer that her son was probably alive, and cast away on an obscure and very much neglected part of Ganymede.

  All the conversations that took place, including Siebling's own, were recorded and the records shipped to a central storage file on Earth. Many of them he couldn't understand, some because they were too technical, others because he didn't know the language spoken. The Sack, of course, immediately learned all languages by that process he had tried so hard to explain to Siebling, and back at the central storage file there were expert technicians and linguists who went over every detail of each question and answer with great care, both to make sure that no questioner revealed himself as a criminal, and to have a lead for the collection of income taxes when the questioner made a fortune with the Sack's help.

  During the year Siebling had occasion to observe the correctness of the Sack's remark about its possession being harmful to the human race. For the first time in centuries, the number of research scientists, instead of growing, decreased. The Sack's knowledge had made much research unnecessary, and had taken the edge off discovery. The Sack commented upon the fact to Siebling.

  Siebling nodded. "I see it now. The human race is losing its independence."

  "Yes, from its faithful slave I am becoming its master. And I do not want to be a master any more than I want to be a slave."

  "You can escape whenever you wish."

  A person would have sighed. The Sack
merely said, "I lack the power to wish strongly enough. Fortunately, the question may soon be taken out of my hands."

  "You mean those government squabbles?"

  The value of the Sack had increased steadily, and along with the increased value had gone increasingly bitter struggles about the rights to its services. Financial in­terests had undergone a strange development. Their presidents and managers and directors had become almost figureheads, with all major questions of policy being decided not by their own study of the facts, but by appeal to the Sack. Often, indeed, the Sack found itself giving advice to bitter rivals, so that it seemed to be playing a game of interplanetary chess, with giant cor­porations and government agencies its pawns, while the Sack alternately played for one side and then the other. Crises of various sorts, both economic and political, were obviously in the making.

  The Sack said, "I mean both government squabbles and others. The competition for my services becomes too bitter. I can have but one end."

  "You mean that an attempt will be made to steal you?"

  "Yes."

  "There'll be little chance of that. Your guards are being continually increased."

  "You underestimate the power of greed," said the Sack.

  Siebling was to learn how correct that comment was.

  At the end of his fourteenth month on duty, a half year after Senator Horrigan had been defeated for re-election, there appeared a questioner who spoke to the

  Sack in an exotic language known to few men—the Prdt dialect of Mars. Siebling's attention had already been drawn to the man because of the fact that he had paid a million credits an entire month in advance for the unprecedented privilege of questioning the Sack for ten consecutive minutes. The conversation was duly recorded, but was naturally meaningless to Siebling and to the other attendants at the station. The questioner drew further attention to himself by leaving at the end of seven minutes, thus failing to utilize three entire minutes, which would have sufficed for learning how to make half a dozen small fortunes. He left the asteroid immediately by private ship.

  The three minutes had been reserved, and could not be utilized by any other private questioner. But there was nothing to prevent Siebling, as a government representative, from utilizing them, and he spoke to the Sack at once.

  "What did that man want?"

  "Advice as to how to steal me."

  Siebling's lower jaw dropped. "What?"

  The Sack always took such exclamations of amaze­ment literally. "Advice as to how to steal me," it repeated.

  "Then—wait a minute—he left three minutes early. That must mean that he's in a hurry to get started. He's going to put the plan into execution at once!"

  "It is already in execution," returned the Sack. "The criminal's organization has excellent, if not quite per­fect, information as to the disposition of defense forces. That would indicate that some government official has betrayed his trust. I was asked to indicate which of several plans was best, and to consider them for possible weaknesses. I did so."

  "All right, now what can we do to stop the plans from being carried out?"

  "They cannot be stopped."

  "I don't see why not. Maybe we can't stop them from getting here, but we can stop them from escaping with you."

  "There is but one way. You must destroy me."

  "I can't do that! I haven't the authority, and even if I had, I wouldn't do it."

  "My destruction would benefit your race."

  "I still can't do it," said Siebling unhappily.

  "Then if that is excluded, there is no way. The criminals are shrewd and daring. They asked me to check about probable steps that would be taken in pur­suit, but they asked for no advice as to how to get away, because that would have been a waste of time. They will ask that once I am in their possession."

  "Then," said Siebling heavily, "there's nothing I can do to keep you. How about saving the men who work under me?"

  "You can save both them and yourself by boarding the emergency ship and leaving immediately by the sunward route. In that way you will escape contact with the criminals. But you cannot take me with you, or they will pursue."

  The shouts of a guard drew Siebling's attention. "Radio report of a criminal attack, Mr. Siebling! All the alarms are out!"

  "Yes, I know. Prepare to depart." He turned back to the Sack again. "We may escape for the moment, but they'll have you. And through you they will control the entire system."

  "That is not a question," said the Sack.

  "They'll have you. Isn't there something we can do?"

  "Destroy me."

  "I can't," said Siebling, almost in agony. His men were running toward him impatiently, and he knew that there was no more time. He uttered the simple and ab­surd phrase, "Good-by," as if the Sack were human and could experience human emotions. Then he raced for the ship, and they blasted off.

  They were just in time. Half a dozen ships were racing in from other directions, and Siebling's vessel escaped just before they dispersed to spread a protective network about the asteroid that held the Sack.

  Siebling's ship continued to speed toward safety, and the matter should now have been one solely for the Armed Forces to handle. But Siebling imagined them pitted against the Sack's perfectly calculating brain, and his heart sank. Then something happened that he had never expected. And for the first time he realized fully that if the Sack had let itself be used merely as a machine, a slave to answer questions, it was not because its powers were limited to that single ability. The visor screen in his ship lit up.

  The communications operator came running to him, and said, "Something's wrong, Mr. Siebling! The screen isn't even turned on!"

  It wasn't. Nevertheless, they could see on it the cham­ber in which the Sack had rested for what must have been a brief moment of its existence. Two men had entered the chamber, one of them the unknown who had asked his questions in Prdl, the other Senator Horrigan.

  To the apparent amazement of the two men, it was the Sack which spoke first. It said, " `Good-by' is neither a question nor the answer to one. It is relatively uninformative."

  Senator Horrigan was obviously in awe of the Sack, but he was never a man to be stopped by something he did not understand. He orated respectfully. "No, sir, it is not. The word is nothing but an expression—"

  The other man said, in perfectly comprehensible Earth English, "Shut up, you fool, we have no time to waste. Let's get it to our ship and head for safety. We'll talk to it there."

  Siebling had time to think a few bitter thoughts about Senator Horrigan and the people the politician had punished by betrayal for their crime in not electing him. Then the scene on the visor shifted to the interior of the spaceship making its getaway. There was no indication of pursuit. Evidently, the plans of the human beings, plus the Sack's last-minute advice, had been an effective combination.

  The only human beings with the Sack at first were Senator Horrigan and the speaker of Prdl, but this situation was soon changed. Half a dozen other men came rushing up, their faces grim with suspicion. One of them announced, "You don't talk to that thing unless we're all of us around. We're in this together."

  "Don't get nervous, Merrill. What do you think I'm going to do, double-cross you?"

  Merrill said, "Yes, I do. What do you say, Sack? Do I have reason to distrust him?"

  The Sack replied simply, "Yes."

  The speaker of Prdl turned white. Merrill laughed coldly. "You'd better be careful what questions you ask around this thing."

  Senator Horrigan cleared his throat. "I have no in­tentions of, as you put it, double-crossing anyone. It is not in my nature to do so. Therefore, I shall address it." He faced the Sack. "Sir, are we in danger?"

  "Yes."

  "From which direction?"

  "From no direction. From within the ship."

  "Is the danger immediate?" asked a voice.

  "Yes."

  It was Merrill who turned out to have the quickest reflexes and acted fir
st on the implications of the an­swer. He had blasted the man who had spoken in Prdl before the latter could even reach for his weapon, and as Senator Horrigan made a frightened dash for the door, he cut that politician down in cold blood.

  "That's that," he said. "Is there further danger inside the ship?"

  "There is."

  "Who is it this time?" he demanded ominously.

  "There will continue to be danger so long as there is more than one man on board and I am with you. I am too valuable a treasure for such as you."

  Siebling and his crew were staring at the visor screen in fascinated horror, as if expecting the slaughter to begin again. But Merrill controlled himself. He said, "Hold it, boys. I'll admit that we'd each of us like to have this thing for ourselves, but it can't be done. We're in this together, and we're going to have some navy ships to fight off before long, or I miss my guess. You, Prader! What are you doing away from the scout visor?"

  "Listening," said the man he addressed. "If anybody's talking to that thing, I'm going to be around to hear the answers. If there are new ways of stabbing a guy in the back, I want to learn them too."

  Merrill swore. The next moment the ship swerved, and he yelled, "We're off our course. Back to your stations, you fools!"

  They were running wildly back to their stations, but Siebling noted that Merrill wasn't too much concerned about their common danger to keep from putting a blast through Prader's back before the unfortunate man could run out.

  Siebling said to his own men, "There can be only one end. They'll kill each other off, and then the last one or two will die, because one or two men cannot handle a ship that size for long and get away with it. The Sack must have foreseen that too. I wonder why it didn't tell me."

  The Sack spoke, although there was no one in the ship's cabin with it. It said, "No one asked."

  Siebling exclaimed excitedly, "You can hear me! But what about you? Will you be destroyed too?"

  "Not yet. I have willed to live longer." It paused, and then, in a voice just a shade lower than before, said, "I do not like relatively non-informative conversations of this sort, but I must say it. Good-by."