by Isaac Asimov
“But there is something in all life that insists on striving; even on useless striving. There were only five thousand of us left in the last days. Only five thousand. And our first ship was ready. It was experimental. It would probably have been a failure. But already we had all the principles of propulsion and navigation correctly worked out.,.
There was a long pause, and the Cepheid’s small black eyes seemed glazed in retrospect.
The newspaperman put in suddenly, from his comer, “And then we came?”
“And then you came,” the Cepheid agreed simply. “It changed everything. Energy was ours for the asking. A new world, congenial and, indeed, ideal, was ours even without asking. If our problems of society had long been solved by ourselves, our more difficult problems of environment were suddenly solved for us, no less completely.”
“Well?” urged Antyok.
“Well-it was somehow not well. For centuries, our ancestors had fought towards the stars, and now the stars suddenly proved to be the property of others. We had fought for life, and it had become a present handed to us by others. There is no longer any reason to fight. There is no longer anything to attain. All the universe is the property of your race.”
“This world is yours,” said Antyok, gently.
“By sufferance. It is a gift. It is not ours by right.”
“You have earned it, in my opinion.”
And now the Cepheid’s eyes were sharply fixed on the other’s countenance, “You mean well, but I doubt that you understand. We have nowhere to go, save this gift of a world. We are in a blind alley. The function of life is striving, and that is taken from us. Life can no longer interest us. We have no offspring-voluntarily. It is our way of removing ourselves from your way.”
Absent-mindedly, Antyok had removed the Fluoro-globe from the window seat, and spun it on its base. Its gaudy surface reflected light as it spun, and its three-foot-high bulk floated with incongruous grace and lightness in the air.
Antyok said, “Is that your only solution? Sterility?”
“We might escape still,” whispered the Cepheid, “but where in the Galaxy is there place for us? It is all yours.”
“Yes, there is no place for you nearer than the Magellanic Clouds if you wished independence. The Magellanic Clouds-”
“And you would not let us go of yourselves. You mean kindly, I know.”
“Yes, we mean kindly-but we could not let you go.”
“It is a mistaken kindness.”
“Perhaps, but could you not reconcile yourselves? You have a world.”
“It is something past complete explanations. Your mind is different. We could not reconcile ourselves. I believe, administrator, that you have thought of all this before. The concept of the blind alley we find ourselves trapped in is not new to you.”
Antyok looked up, startled, and one hand steadied the fluoro-globe, “Can you read my mind?”
“It is just a guess. A good one, I think.”
“Yes-but can you read my mind? The minds of humans in general, I mean. It is an interesting point. The scientists say you cannot, but sometimes I wonder if it is that you simply will not. Could you answer that? I am detaining you, unduly, perhaps.”
“No…no-” But the little Cepheid drew his enveloping robe closer, and buried his face in the electrically-heated pad at the collar for a moment. “You other-worldlings speak of reading minds. It is not so at all, but it is assuredly hopeless to explain.”
Antyok mumbled the old proverb, “One cannot explain sight to a man blind from birth.”
“Yes, just so. This sense which you call ‘mind reading,, quite erroneously, cannot be applied to us. It is not that we cannot receive the proper sensations, it is that your people do not transmit them, and we have no way of explaining to you how to go about it.”
“Hm-m-m.”
“There are times, of course, of great concentration or emotional tension on the part of an other-worldling when some of us who are more expert in this sense; more sharp-eyed, so to speak; detect vaguely something. It is uncertain; yet I myself have at times wondered-”
Carefully, Antyok began spinning the Fluoro-globe once more. His pink face was set in thought, and his eyes were fixed upon the Cepheid. Gustiv Bannerd stretched his fingers and reread his notes, his lips moving silently.
The fluoro-globe spun, and slowly the Cepheid seemed to grow tense as well, as his eyes shifted to the colorful sheen of the globe’s fragile surface.
The Cepheid said, “What is that?”
Antyok started, and his face smoothed into an almost chuckling placidity, “This? A Galactic fad of three years ago; which means that it is a hopelessly old-fashioned relic this year. It is a useless device but it looks pretty. Bannerd, could you adjust the windows to non-transmission?”
There was the soft click of a contact, and the windows became curved regions of darkness, while in the center of the room, the fluoro-globe was suddenly the focus of a rosy effulgence that seemed to leap outward in streamers. Antyok, a scarlet figure in a scarlet room, placed it upon the table and spun it with a hand that dripped red. As it spun, the colors changed with a slowly increasing rapidity, blended and fell apart into more extreme contrasts.
Antyok was speaking in an eerie atmosphere of molten, shifting rainbow, “The surface is of a material that exhibits variable fluorescence. It is almost weightless, extremely fragile, but gyroscopically balanced so that it rarely falls, with ordinary care. It is rather pretty, don’t you think?”
From somewhere the Cepheid’s voice came, “Extremely pretty.”
“But it has outworn its welcome; outlived its fashionable existence.”
The Cepheid’s voice was abstracted, “It is very pretty.”
Bannerd restored the light at a gesture, and the colors faded. The Cepheid said, “That is something my people would enjoy.” He stared at the globe with fascination.
And now Antyok rose. “You had better go. If you stay longer, the atmosphere may have bad effects. I thank you humbly for your kindness.”
“I thank you humbly for yours.” The Cepheid had also risen.
Antyok said, “Most of your people, by the way, have accepted our offers to them to study the make-up of our modem spaceships. You understand, I suppose, that the purpose was to study the reactions of your people to our technology. I trust that conforms with your sense of propriety.”
“You need not apologize. I, myself, have now the makings of a human pilot. It was most interesting. It recalls our own efforts-and reminds us of how nearly on the right track we were.”
The Cepheid left, and Antyok sat, frowning.
“Well,” he said to Bannerd, a little sharply. “You remember our agreement, I hope. This interview can’t be published.”
Bannerd shrugged, “Very well.”
Antyok was at his seat, and his fingers fumbled with the small metal figurine upon his desk, “What do you think of all this, Bannerd?”
“I am sorry for them. I think I understand how they feel. We must educate them out of it. The Philosophy can do it.”
“You think so?”
“Yes.”
“We can’t let them go, of course.”
“Oh, no. Out of the question. We have too much to learn from them. This feeling of theirs is only a passing stage. They’ll think differently, especially when we allow them the completest independence.”
“Maybe. What do you think of the fluoro-globes, Bannerd? He liked them. It might be a gesture of the right sort to order several thousand of them. The Galaxy knows, they’re a drug on the market right now, and cheap enough.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” said Bannerd.
“The Bureau would never agree, though. I know them.”
The newsman’s eyes narrowed, “But it might be just the thing. They need new interests.”
“Yes? Well, we could do something. I could include your transcript of the interview as part of a report and just emphasize the matter of the globes a bit. After
all, you’re a member of The philosophy and might have influence with important people, whose word with the Bureau might carry much more weight than mine. You understand-?”
“Yes,” mused Bannerd. “Yes.”
From: AdHQ-Ceph18
To: BuOuProv
Subject: OuProv Project 2910, Part II; Birth rate of non-Humans on Cepheus 18, Investigation of.
Reference:
(a) BuOuProv letr. Cep-N-CM/car, 115097, dated 223/977 G.E.
Enclosure:
1. Transcript of conversation between L. Antyok of AdHQ-Ceph18, and Ni-San, High Judge of the non-Humans on Cepheus 18.
1. Enclosure I is forwarded herewith for the information of the BuOuProv.
2. The investigation of the subject project undertaken in response to the authorization of reference (a) is being pursued along the new lines indicated in Enclosure 1. The BuOuProv is assured that every means will be used to combat the harmful psychological attitude at present prevalent among the non-Humans.
3. It is to be noted that the High Judge of the non-Humans on Cepheus 18 expressed interest in fluoro-globes. A preliminary investigation into this fact of non-Human psychology has been initiated.
L. Antyok, Superv. AdHQ-Ceph18, 272/977 G.E.
From: BuOuProv
To: AdHQ-Ceph18
Subject: OuProv Project 2910; Birth rate of non-Humans on Cepheus 18, Investigation of.
Reference:
(a) AdHQ-Ceph18 letr. AA-LA/mn, dated 272/977 G.E.
1. With reference to Enclosure I of reference (a), five thousand fluoro-globes have been allocated for shipment to Cepheus 18, by the Department of Trade.
2. It is instructed that AdHQ-Ceph18 make use of all methods of appeasing non-Humans’ dissatisfaction, consistent with the The necessities of obedience to Imperial proclamations.
C. Morily, Chief, BuOuProv, 283/977 G.E.
V
The dinner was over, the wine had been brought in, and the cigars were out. The groups of talkers had formed, and the captain of the merchant fleet was the center of the largest. His brilliant white uniform quite outsparkled his listeners.
He was almost complacent in his speech: “The trip was nothing. I’ve had more than three hundred ships under me before this. Still, I’ve never had a cargo quite like this. What do you want with five thousand fluoro-globes on this desert, by the Galaxy!”
Loodun Antyok laughed gently. He shrugged, “For the non-Humans. It wasn’t a difficult cargo, I hope.”
“No, not difficult. But bulky. They’re fragile, and I couldn’t carry more than twenty to a ship, with all the government regulations concerning packing and precautions against breakage. But it’s the government’s money, I suppose.”
Zammo smiled grimly. “Is this your first experience with government methods, captain?”
“Galaxy, no,” exploded the spaceman. “I try to avoid it, of course, but you can’t help getting entangled on occasion. And it’s an abhorrent thing when you are, and that’s the truth. The red tape! The paper work! It’s enough to stunt your growth and curdle your circulation. It’s a tumor, a cancerous growth on the Galaxy. I’d wipe out the whole mess.”
Antyok said, “You’re unfair, captain. You don’t understand.”
“Yes? Well, now, as one of these bureaucrats,” and he smiled amiably at the word, “suppose you explain your side of the situation, administrator.”
“Well, now,” Antyok seemed confused, “government is a serious and complicated business. We’ve got thousands of planets to worry about in this Empire of ours and billions of people. It’s almost past human ability to supervise the business of governing without the tightest sort of organization. I think there are something like four hundred million men today in the Imperial Administrative Service alone, and in order to co-ordinate their efforts and to pool their knowledge, you must have what you call red tape and paper work. Every bit of it, senseless though it may seem, annoying though it may be, has its uses. Every piece of paper is a thread binding the labors of four hundred million humans. Abolish the Administrative Service and you abolish the Empire; and with it, interstellar peace, order, and civilization.”
“Come-” said the captain.
“No. I mean it.” Antyok was earnestly breathless. “The rules and system of the Administrative set-up must be sufficiently all-embracing and rigid so that in case of incompetent officials, and sometimes one is appointed-you may laugh, but there are incompetent scientists, and newsmen, and captains, too-in case of incompetent officials, I say, little harm will be done. For, at the worst, the system can move by itself.“
“Yes,” grunted the captain, sourly, “and if a capable administrator should be appointed? He is then caught by the same rigid web and is forced into mediocrity.”
“Not at all, “ replied Antyok, warmly. “ A capable man can work within the limits of the rules and accomplish what he wishes.”
“How?” asked Bannerd.
“Well…well-” Antyok was suddenly ill at ease. “One method is to get yourself an A-priority project, or double-A, if possible.”
The captain leaned his head back for laughter, but never quite made it, for the door was flung open and frightened men were pouring in. The shouts made no sense at first. Then:
“Sir, the ships are gone. These non-Humans have taken them by force.”
“What? All?”
“Every one. Ships and creatures-”
It was two hours later that the four were together again, alone in Antyok’s office now.
Antyik said coldly, “They’ve made no mistakes. There’s not a ship left behind, not even your training ship, Zammo. And there isn’t a government ship available in this entire half of the Sector. By the time we organize a pursuit they’ll be out of the Galaxy and halfway to the Magellanic Clouds. Captain, it was your responsibility to maintain an adequate guard.”
The captain cried, “It was our first day out of space. Who could have known-”
Zammo interrupted fiercely, “Wait a while, captain. I’m beginning to understand. Antyok, “ his voice was hard, “you engineered this.”
“I?” Antyok’s expression was strangely cool, almost indifferent.
“You told us this evening that a clever administrator got an A-priority project assigned to accomplish what he wished. You got such a project in order to help the non-Humans escape.”
“I did? I beg your pardon, but how could that be? It was you yourself in one of your reports that brought up the problem of the failing birth rate. It was Bannerd, here, whose sensational articles frightened the Bureau into making a double A-priority project out of it. I had nothing to do with it.”
“ You suggested that I mention the birth rate,” said Zammo, violently.
“Did I?” said Antyok, composedly.
“And for that matter,” roared Bannerd, suddenly, “you suggested that I mention the birth rate in my articles.”
The three ringed him now and hemmed him in. Antyok leaned back in his chair and said easily, “I don’t know what you mean by suggestions. If you are accusing me, please stick to evidence-legal evidence. The laws of the Empire go by written, filmed, or transcribed material, or by witnessed statements. All my letters as administrator are on me here, at the Bureau, and at other places. I never asked for an A-priority project. The Bureau assigned it to me, and Zammo and Bannerd are responsible for that. In print, at any rate.”
Zammo’s voice was an almost inarticulate growl, “You hoodwinked me into teaching the creatures how to handle a spaceship.”
“It was your suggestion. I have your report proposing they be studied in their reaction to human tools on file. So has the Bureau. The evidence-the legal evidence, is plain. I had nothing to do with it.”
“Nor with the globes?” demanded Bannerd.
The captain howled suddenly, “You had my ships brought here purposely. Five thousand globes! You knew it would require hundreds of craft. “
“I never asked for globes,” said Antyok, coldly. “
That was the Bureau’s idea, although I think Bannerd’s friends of The Philosophy helped that along.”
Bannerd fairly choked. He spat out, “You were asking that Cepheid leader if he could read minds. You were telling him to express interest in the globes.”
“Come, now. You prepared the transcript of the conversation yourself, and that, too, is on file. You can’t prove it.” He stood up, “You’ll have to excuse me. I must prepare a report for the Bureau.”
At the door, Antyok turned. “In a way, the problem of the non-Humans is solved, even if only to their own satisfaction. They’ll breed now, and have a world they’ve earned themselves. It’s what they wanted.
“Another thing. Don’t accuse me of silly things. I’ve been in the Service for twenty-seven years, and I assure you that my paper work is proof enough that I have been thoroughly correct in everything I have done. And captain, I’ll be glad to continue our discussion of earlier this evening at your convenience and explain how a capable administrator can work through red tape and still get what he wants.”
It was remarkable that such a round. smooth baby-face could wear a smile quite so sardonic.
From: BuOuProv
To: Loodun Antyok, Chief Public Administrator, A-8
Subject: Administrative Service, Standing in.
Reference:
(a) AdServ Court Decision 22874-Q , dated 1/978 G.E.
1. In view of the favorable opinion handed down in reference
(a) you are hereby absolved of all responsibility for the flight of non-Humans on Cepheus 18. It is requested that you hold yourself in readiness for your next appointment.
R. Horpritt, Chief,
AdServ, 15/978 G.E.
***
The letters that form a major part of this story (which contains one of my rare examples of extraterrestrial intelligences) are, you will be glad to know, based on the kind of material that routinely passed in and out of the N.A.E.S. (and, for all I know, still does).The turgid style is not my invention. I couldn’t invent it if I tried.
