Gold: The Final Science Fiction Collection

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by Isaac Asimov


  He now knew, for instance, that the Other Sam’s previous attempts at communication had failed because the people to whom it had appeared had been frightened. They had doubted their own sanity. And because they feared, their minds…tightened. Their minds would not receive. The attempts at communication gradually diminished, though they had never entirely stopped. “But you’re communicating with me,” said Sam.

  Sam was different from all the rest. He had not been afraid.

  “Couldn’t you have made them not afraid first? Then talked to them?“

  It wouldn’t work. The fear-filled mind resisted all. An attempt to change might damage. It would be wrong to damage a thinking mind. There had been one such attempt, but it had not worked. “What is it you are trying to communicate, Other Sam?”

  A wish to be left alone. Despair!

  Despair was more than a thought; it was an emotion; it was a frightening sensation. Sam felt despair wash over him intensely, heavily-and yet it was not part of himself. He felt despair on the surface of his mind, keenly, but underneath it, where his own mind was, he was free of it.

  Sam said, wonderingly, “It seems to me as though you’re giving up. Why? We’re not interfering with you?”

  Human beings had built the Dome, cleared a large area of all planetary life and substituted their own. And once the neutron star had its power station-once floods of energy moved outward through hyperspace to power-thirsty worlds-more power stations would be built and still more. Then what would happen to Home. (There must be a name for the planet that the Other Sam used but the only thought Sam found in his mind was Ho me and, underneath that, the thought: ours-ours-ours-)

  This planet was the nearest convenient base to the neutron star. It would be flooded with more and more people, more and more Domes, and their Home would be destroyed.

  “But you could change our minds if you had to, even if you damaged a few, couldn’t you?”

  If they tried, people would find them dangerous. People would work out what was happening. Ships would approach, and from a distance, use weapons to destroy the life on Home, and then bring in

  People-life instead. This could be seen in the people’s minds. People had a violent history; they would stop at nothing.

  “But what can I do?” said Sam. “I’m just an apprentice. I’ve just been here a few days. What can I do?”

  Fear. Despair.

  There were no thoughts that Sam could work out, just the numbing layer of fear and despair. He felt moved. It was such a peaceful world. They threatened nobody. They didn’t even hurt minds when they could.

  It wasn’t their fault they were conveniently near a neutron star. It wasn’t their fault they were in the way of expanding humanity.

  He said, “Let me think.”

  He thought, and there was the feeling of another mind watching. Sometimes his thoughts skipped forward and he recognized a suggestion from outside.

  There came the beginning of hope. Sam felt it, but wasn’t certain. He said doubtfully, ‘‘I’ll try.”

  He looked at the time-strip on his wrist and jumped a little. Far more time had passed than he had realized. His three hours were nearly up. “I must go back now,” he said.

  He opened his lunch hamper and removed the small thermos of water, drank from it thirstily, and emptied it. He placed the empty thermos under one arm. He removed the wrappings of the sandwich and stuffed it in his pocket.

  The Other Sam wavered and turned smoky. The smoke thinned, dispersed and was gone.

  Sam closed the hamper, swung its strap over his shoulder again and turned toward the Dome.

  His heart was hammering. Would he have the courage to go through with his plan? And if he did, would it work?

  When Sam entered the Dome, the Corridor-Master was waiting for him and said, as he looked ostentatiously at his own timestrip, “You shaved it rather fine, didn’t you?”

  Sam’s lips tightened and he tried not to sound insolent. “I had three hours, sir.” “And you took two hours and fifty-eight minutes.”

  “That’s less than three hours, sir.”

  “Hmm.” The Corridor-Master was cold and unfriendly. “Dr. Gentry would like to see you.” “Yes, sir. What for?”

  “He didn’t tell me. But I don’t like you cutting it that fine your first time out, Chase. And I don’t like your attitude either, and I don’t like an officer of the Dome wanting to see you. I’m just going to tell you once, Chase-if you’re a troublemaker, I won’t want you in this Corridor. Do you understand?” “Yes, sir. But what trouble have I made?”

  “We’ll find that out soon enough.”

  Sam had not seen Donald Gentry since their one and only meeting the day the young apprentice had reached the Dome. Gentry still seemed good natured and kindly, and there was nothing in his voice to indicate anything else. He sat in a chair behind his desk, and Sam stood before it, his hamper still bumping his shoulder blade.

  Gentry said, “How are you getting along, Sam? Having an interesting time?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Sam.

  “Still feeling you’d rather be doing something else, working somewhere else?” Sam said, earnestly, “No, sir. This is a good place for me.”

  “Because you’re interested in hallucinations?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You’ve been asking others about it, haven’t you?”

  “It’s an interesting subject to me, sir.”

  “Because you want to study the human brain?”

  “Any brain, sir.”

  “And you’ve been wandering about outside the Dome, haven’t you?”

  “I was told it was permitted, sir.”

  “It is. But few apprentices take advantage of that so soon. Did you see anything interesting?”

  Sam hesitated, then said, “Yes, sir.”

  “A hallucination?”

  “No, sir.” He said it quite positively.

  Gentry stared at him for a few moments, and there was a kind of speculative hardening of this eyes. “Would you care to tell me what you did see? Honestly.”

  Sam hesitated again. Then he said, “I saw and spoke to an inhabitant of this planet, sir.”

  “An intelligent inhabitant, young man?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Gentry said, “Sam, we had reason to wonder about you when you came. The Central Computer’s report on you did not match our needs, though it was favorable in many ways, so I took the opportunity to study you that first day. We kept our collective eye on you, and when you left to wander about the planet on your own, we kept you under observation.”

  “Sir, “ said Sam, indignantly.

  “That violates my right of privacy. “

  “Yes, it does, but this is a most vital project and we are some times driven to bend the rules a little. We saw you talking with considerable animation for a substantial period of time.”

  “I just told you I was, sir.”

  “Yes, but you were talking to nothing, to empty air. You were experiencing a hallucination, Sam! “

  Part Three

  Sam Chase was speechless. A hallucination? It couldn’t be a hallucination.

  Less than half an hour ago, he had been speaking to the Other Sam, had been experiencing the thoughts of the Other Sam. He knew exactly what had happened then, and he was still the same Sam Chase he had been during that conversation and before. He put his elbow over his lunch hamper as though it were a connection with the sandwiches he had been eating when the Other Sam had appeared.

  He said, with what was almost a stammer, “Sir-Dr. Gentry-it wasn’t a hallucination. It was real.” Gentry shook his head. “My boy, I saw you talking with animation to nothing at all. I didn’t hear what you said, but you were talking. Nothing else was there except plants. Nor was I the only one. There were two other witnesses, and we have it all on record.”

  “On record?”

  “On a television cassette. Why should we lie to you, young man? This has happened before. At the st
art it happened rather frequently. Now it happens only very rarely. For one thing, we tell the new

  apprentices of the hallucinations at the start, as I told you, and they generally avoid the planet until they are more acclimated, and then it doesn’t happen to them.”

  “You mean you scare them,” blurted out Sam, “so that it’s not likely to happen. And they don’t tell you if it does happen. But I wasn’t scared.”

  Gentry shook his head. “I’m sorry you weren’t, if that was what it would have taken you to keep from seeing things.”

  “I wasn’t seeing things. At least, not things that weren’t there.”

  “How do you intend to argue with a television cassette, which will show you staring at nothing?” “Sir, what I saw was not opaque. It was smoky, actually; foggy, if you know what I mean.”

  “Yes, I do. It looked as a hallucination might look, not as reality. But the television set would have seen even smoke.”

  “Maybe not, sir. My mind must have been focused to see it more clearly. It was probably less clear to the camera than to me.”

  “It focused your mind, did it?” Gentry stood up, and he sounded rather sad. “That’s an admission of hallucination. I’m really sorry, Sam, because you are clearly intelligent, and the Central Computer rated you highly, but we can’t use you.”

  “Will you be sending me home, sir? “

  “Yes, but why should that matter? You didn’t particularly want to come here.”

  “I want to stay here now.”

  “But I’m afraid you cannot.”

  “You can’t just send me home. Don’t I get a hearing?”

  “You certainly can, if you insist, but in that case, the proceedings will be official and will go on your record, so that you won’t get another apprenticeship anywhere. As it is, if you are sent back unofficially, as better suited to an apprenticeship in neurophysiology, you might get that, and be better off, actually, than you are now.”

  “I don’t want that. I want a hearing-before the Commander.” “Oh, no. Not the Commander. He can’t be bothered with that.”

  “It must be the Commander,” said Sam, with desperate force, “or this Project will fail.”

  “Unless the Commander gives you a hearing? Why do you say that? Come, you are forcing me to think that you are unstable in ways other than those involved with hallucinations.”

  “Sir.” The words were tumbling out of Sam’s mouth now. “The Commander is ill-they know that even on Earth-and if he gets too ill to work, this Project will fail. I did not see a hallucination and the proof is that I know why he is ill and how he can be cured.” “You’re not helping yourself,” said Gentry.

  “If you send me away, I tell you the Project will fail. Can it hurt to let me see the Commander? All

  I ask is five minutes.”

  “Five minutes? What if he refuses?”

  “Ask him, sir. Tell him that I say the same thing that caused his depression can remove it.” “No, I don’t think I’ll tell him that. But I’ll ask him if he’ll see you.”

  The Commander was a thin man, not very tall. His eyes were a deep blue and they looked tired. His voice was very soft, a little low-pitched, definitely weary.

  “You’re the one who saw the hallucination?”

  “It was not a hallucination, Commander. It was real. So was the one you saw, Commander.” If that did not get him thrown out, Sam thought, he might have a chance. He felt his elbow tightening on his hamper again. He still had it with him.

  The Commander seemed to wince. “The one I saw?”

  “Yes, Commander. It said it had hurt one person. They had to try with you because you were the Commander, and they…did damage.”

  The Commander ignored that and said, “Did you ever have any mental problems before you came here?”

  “No, Commander. You can consult my Central Computer record.”

  Sam thought: He must have had problems, but they let it go because he’s a genius and they had to have him.

  Then he thought: Was that my own idea? Or had it been put there?

  The Commander was speaking. Sam had almost missed it. He said, “What you saw can’t be real. There is no intelligent life-form on this planet.”

  “Yes, sir. There is.”

  “Oh? And no one ever discovered it till you came here, and in three days you did the job?”

  The Commander smiled very briefly. “I’m afraid I have no choice but to-”

  “Wait, Commander,” said Sam, in a strangled voice. “We know about the intelligent life-form. It’s the insects, the little flying things.”

  “You say the insects are intelligent?”

  “Not an individual insect by itself, but they fit together when they want to, like little jigsaw pieces. They can do it in any way they want. And when they do, their nervous systems fit together, too, and build up. A lot of them together are intelligent.”

  The Commander’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s an interesting idea, anyway. Almost crazy enough to be true. How did you come to that conclusion, young man?”

  “By observation, sir. Everywhere I walked, I disturbed the insects in the grass and they flew about in all directions. But once the cow started to form, and I walked toward it, there was nothing to see or hear. The insects were gone. They had gathered together in front of me and they weren’t in the grass anymore. That’s how I knew.”

  “You talked with a cow?”

  “It was a cow at first, because that’s what I thought of. But they had it wrong, so they switched and came together to form a human being-me.”

  “You?” And then, in a lower voice, “Well, that fits anyway.”

  “Did you see it that way, too, Commander?”

  The Commander ignored that. “ And when it shaped itself like you, it could talk as you did? Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “No, Commander. The talking was in my mind. “

  “Telepathy?”

  “Sort of.”

  “And what did it say to you, or think to you?”

  “It wanted us to refrain from disturbing this planet. It wanted us not to take it over. “ Sam was all but holding his breath. The interview had lasted more than five minutes already, and the Commander was making no move to put an end to it, to send him home.

  “Quite impossible.”

  “Why, Commander?”

  “Any other base will double and triple the expense. We’re having enough trouble getting grants as it is. Fortunately, it is all a hallucination, young man, and the problem does not arise. “ He closed his eyes, then opened them and looked at Sam without really focusing on him. “I’m sorry, young man. You will be sent back-officially.”

  Sam gambled again. “We can’t afford to ignore the insects, Commander. They have a lot to give us.”

  The Commander had raised his hand halfway as though about to give a signal. He paused long enough to say, “Really? What do they have that they can give us?

  “The one thing more important than energy, Commander. An understanding of the brain.” “How do you know that?”

  “I can demonstrate it. I have them here.” Sam seized his hamper and swung it forward onto the desk.

  “What's that?”

  Sam did not answer in words. He opened the hamper, and a softly whirring, smoky cloud appeared.

  The Commander rose suddenly and cried out. He lifted his hand high and an alarm bell sounded. Through the door came Gentry, and others behind him. Sam felt himself seized by the arms, and then a kind of stunned and motionless silence prevailed in the room.

  The smoke was condensing, wavering, taking on the shape of a Head, a thin head, with high cheekbones, a smooth forehead and receding hairline. It had the appearance of the Commander.

  “I'm seeing things,” croaked the Commander.

  Sam said, “We're all seeing the same thing, aren't we?” He wriggled and was released. Gentry said in a low voice, “ Mass hysteria.”

  “No,” said.Sam, “it's real.” He rea
ched toward the Head in midair, and brought back his finger with a tiny insect on it. He flicked it and it could just barely be seen making its way back to its

  Companions.

  No one moved.

  Sam said, “Head, do you see the problem with the Commander's mind?”

  Sam had the brief vision of a snarl in an otherwise smooth curve, but it vanished and left nothing behind. It was not something that could be easily put into human thought. He hoped the others experienced that quick snarl. Yes, they had. He knew it.

  The Commander said, “There is no problem.“ Sam said, “Can you adjust it, Head?”

  Of course, they could not. It was not right to invade a mind. Sam said, “Commander, give permission.”

  The Commander put his hands to his eyes and muttered something Sam did not make out. Then he said, clearly, “It's a nightmare, but I've been in one since-Whatever must be done, I give permission.”

  Nothing happened.

  Or nothing seemed to happen.

  And then slowly, little by little, the Commander's face lit in a smile.

  He said, just above a whisper. “ Astonishing. I'm watching a sun rise. It's been cold night for so long, and now I feel the warmth again. “ His voice rose high. “I feel wonderful.”

  The Head deformed at that point, turned into a vague, pulsing fog, then formed a curving, narrowing arrow that sped into the hamper. Sam snapped it shut.

  He said, “Commander, have I your permission to restore these little insect-things to their own world?”

  “Yes, yes,” said the Commander, dismissing that with a wave of his hand. “Gentry, call a meeting.

  We’ve got to change all our plans.”

  Sam had been escorted outside the Dome by a stolid guard and had then been confined to his quarters for the rest of the day.

  It was late when Gentry entered, stared at him thoughtfully, and said, “That was an amazing demonstration of yours. The entire incident has been fed into the Central Computer and we now have a double project-neutron-star energy and neurophysiology. I doubt that there will be any question about pouring money into this project now. And we’ll have a group of neurophysiologists arriving eventually.

 

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