The Early Asimov. Volume 1

by Isaac Asimov

  The Recorder looked thoughtful: “Well, I could tell you what I know offhand, or we could go to the Library and look up the references.”

  “Don’t bother opening the Library for me. It’s a Closed-Day. Just give me some notion of things and I’ll search the references later.”

  The Recorder bit at his pipe, shoved his chair back against the wall and de-focused his eyes thoughtfully. “Well,” he said, “I suppose it starts with the discovery of the continents on the other side. That was five years ago. You know about that, perhaps?”

  “Only the fact of it. I know the continents exist, as everyone does now. I remember once speculating on what a shining new field it would be for archaeological research, but that is all.”

  “Ah, then there is much else to tell you of. The new continents were never discovered by us directly, you know. It was five years ago that a group of non-Gurrow creatures arrived at the East Harbor Grouping in a machine that flew-by definite scientific principles, we found out later, based essentially on the buoyancy of air. They spoke a language, were obviously intelligent, and called themselves Eekahs. The Gurrows, of the East Harbor Grouping, learned their language-a simple one though full of unpronounceable sounds-and I have a grammar of it, if you’re interested-”

  Raph waved that away.

  The Recorder continued: “The Gurrows of the Grouping, with the aid of those of the Iron Mountain Grouping-which specialize in steel works, you know-built duplicates of the flying machine. A flight was made across the ocean, and I should say there are several dozens of volumes on all that-volumes on the flying machine, on a new science called aerodynamics, new geographies, even a new system of philosophy based on the plurality of intelligences. All produced at the East Harbor and Iron Mountain Groupings. Remarkable work for only five years, and all are available here:’

  “But the Eekahs-are they still at the East Harbor Groupings?”

  “Um-m-m. I’m pretty certain they are. They refused to return to their own continents. They call themselves ‘political refugees.’ “

  “Politi. …what?”

  “It’s their own language,” said the Recorder, “and it’s the only translation available.”

  “Well, why political refugees? Why not geological refugees, or oompah refugees. I should think a translation ought to make sense.”

  The Recorder shrugged: “I refer you to the books. They’re not criminals, they claim. I know only what I tell you.”

  “Well, then, what do they look like? Do you have pictures?”

  “At the Library.”

  “Did you read my ‘Principles of Archaeology?’ “

  “I looked through it.”

  “Do you remember the drawings of Primate Primeval?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “Then, look, let’s go down to the Library, after all.”

  “Well, sure.” The Recorder grunted as he rose.

  The Administrator of the Red River Gurrow Grouping held a position in no way different in essentials from that of the Museum Curator, the Recorder or any other voluntary job holder. To expect a difference is to assume a society in which executive ability is rare.

  Actually, all jobs in a Gurrow Grouping-where a “job” is defined as regular work, the fruits of which adhere to others in addition to the worker himself-are divided into two classes: one, Voluntary Jobs, and the other, Involuntary or Community Jobs. All of the first classification are equal. If a Gurrow enjoys the digging of useful ditches, his bent is to be respected and his job to be honored. If no one enjoys such burrowing and yet it is found necessary for comfort, it becomes a Community Job, done by lot or rotation according to convenience-annoying but unavoidable.

  And so it was that the Administrator lived in a house no more ample and luxurious than others, sat at the head of no tables, had no particular title other than the name of his job, and was neither envied, hated, nor adored.

  He liked to arrange Inter-Group trade, to supervise the common finances of the Group, and to judge the infrequent disagreements that arose. Of course, he received no additional food or energy privileges for doing what he liked.

  It was not, therefore, to obtain permission, but to place his accounts in decent order, that Raph stopped in to see the Administrator. The Closed-Day had not yet ended. The Administrator sat peacefully in his after-dinner armchair, with an after-dinner cigar in his mouth, and an after-dinner book in his hand. Although there was something rather timeless about six children and a wife, even they had an after-dinner air about them.

  Raph received a multiple greeting upon entering, and raised two hands to his ears, for if the various Administratelets (Only applicable title. Author.) had a job, it was noisemaking. Certainly, it was what they liked to do, and certainly others reaped most of the fruits therefrom, for their own eardrums were apparently impervious.

  The Administrator shooed them.

  Raph accepted a cigar.

  “I intend leaving the Grouping for a time, Lahr,” he said. “My job necessitates it.”

  “We won’t enjoy your going, Raph. I hope it will not be for long.”

  “I hope not. What have we in Common Units?”

  “Oh, ample for your purposes, I’m sure. Where do you intend going?”

  “To the East Harbor Grouping.”

  The Administrator nodded and blew out a thoughtful puff of smoke: “Unfortunately, East Harbor has a surplus in their favor registered in our books-I can verify that, if you wish-but the Common Units of Exchange on hand will take care of transportation and necessary expenses.”

  “Well, that’s fine. But tell me, what is my status on the Community Job Roster?”

  “Um-m-m-I’ll have to get the rolls. You’ll excuse me a moment.” He trundled away, heaving his great weight across the room and out into the hallway. Raph paused to poke at the youngest of the children who rolled up to him, growling in mock ferocity with gleaming teeth-a black little bundle of thick fur, with the long, childish snout that had not yet broadened away from the shape of the animal ancestry of half a million years earlier.

  The Administrator returned with a heavy ledger and large spectacles. He opened the ledger meticulously, riffled the pages to the proper place and then drew a careful finger down the columns.

  He said: “There’s only the question of the water supply, Raph. You’re due on the Maintenance gang for this next week. There’s nothing else due for at least two months.”

  “I’ll be back before then. Is there any chance of someone subbing for me on the Water Maintenance?”

  “Um-m-m-I’ll get someone. I can always send my oldest. He’s getting to job age and he might as well taste everything. He may like working on the dam.”

  “Yes? You tell me if he does, then. He can replace me, regularly.”

  The Administrator smiled gently: “Don’t plan on that, Raph. If he can figure out a way of making sleeping useful to all of us, he’ll certainly take it up as a job. And why are you going to East Harbor Grouping, by the way, if it’s something you care to talk about?”

  “You’ll laugh, perhaps, but I have just found out that there exist such things as Eekahs.”

  “Eekahs? Yes, I know.” The Administrator pointed a finger. “creatures from across the seal Right?”

  “Right! But that’s not all. I’ve come from the Library. I’ve seen trimensional reproductions, Lahr, and they’re Primate Primeval, or almost. They’re primates, anyway, intelligent primates. They’ve got small eyes, Hat noses, and completely different jawbones-but they’re at least second cousins. I’ve got to see them, Lahr.”

  The Administrator shrugged. He felt no interest in the matter himself. “Why? I ask out of ignorance, Raph. Does it matter, your seeing them?”

  “Matter?” Raph was obviously appalled at the question. “Don’t you know what’s been going on these last years? Have you read my archaeology book?”

  “No,” said the Administrator, definitely, “I wouldn’t read it to save myself a turn at Garbage Dispos
al.”

  Raph said: “Which probably proves you more suited to Garbage Disposal than archaeology. But never mind. I’ve been fighting single-handed for nearly ten years in favor of my theory that Primate Primeval was an intelligent creature with a developed civilization. I have nothing on my side so far but logical necessity, which is the last thing most archaeologists will accept. They want something solid. They want the remains of a Grouping, or artifacts, structures, books-get it. All I can give them is a skeleton with a huge brain-pan. Stars above, Lahr, what do they expect to survive in ten million years? Metal dies. Paper dies. Film dies.

  “Only stone lasts, Lahr. And bone that’s turned to stone. I’ve got that. A skull with room for a brain. And stone, too, old sharpened knives. Ground flints.”

  “Well. “ said Lahr, “there are your artifacts.”

  “Those are called eoliths, dawn stones. They won’t accept them. They call them natural products, fortuitously shaped by erosion into the shapes they have, the idiots.”

  Then he grinned with a scientific ferocity: “But if the Eekahs are intelligent primates, I’ve practically proven my case.”

  Raph had traveled before, but never eastward, and the decline of agriculture on the road impressed him. In early history, the Gurrow Groupings had been entirely unspecialized. Each had been self-sufficient, and trade was a gesture of friendliness rather than a matter of necessity.

  And so it was still in most Groupings. His own Grouping, the Red River, was perhaps typical. Some five hundred miles inland, set in lush farm land, agriculture remained centric. The river yielded some fish and there was a well-developed dairy industry. In fact, it was food exports that provided cause for the healthy state of the store of Common Units.

  As they traveled eastward, however, the Groupings through which they passed paid less and less mind to the shallowing soil and more and more to the smoking factory structures.

  In the East Harbor Grouping, Raph found a trading center which depended for its prosperity primarily upon ships. It was a more populous Grouping than the average, more densely packed, with houses, on occasion, within a hundred yards of each other.

  Raph felt an uncomfortable prickling at the thought of living in such close quarters. The docks were even worse, with Gurrows engaged at the huge Community Jobs of loading and unloading.

  The Administrator of this East Harbor Grouping was a young man, new at his job, overwhelmed with the joy of his work, and beside himself with the pleasure of welcoming a distinguished stranger.

  Raph sat through an excellent meal, and was treated to a long discourse as to the exact derivation of each dish. To his provincial ears, beef from the Prairie Grouping, potatoes from the Northeast Woods Grouping, coffee from the Isthmus Grouping, wine from the Pacific Grouping, and fruit from the Central Lakes Grouping were something strange and wonderful.

  Over the cigars-South Island Grouping-he brought up the subject of the Eekahs. The East Harbor Administrator grew solemn and a little uneasy.

  “The man you want to see is Lernin. He’ll be glad to help you all he can. You say you know something of these Eekahs?”

  “I say I would like to know something. They resemble an extinct species of animal I am familiar with.”

  “Then that is your field of interest. I see.”

  “Perhaps you can tell me some of the details of their arrival, Administrator,” suggested Raph, politely.

  “I was not Administrator at the time, friend, so that I lack firsthand information, but the records are plain. This group of Eekahs that arrived in their flying-machine…you’ve heard about these aeronautical devices?”

  “Yes, yes.”

  “Yes. Well…apparently they were fugitives.”

  “So I have heard. Yet they claim not to be criminals. Isn’t that so?”

  “Yes. Queer, isn’t it? They admitted that they had been condemned-this was after long and skillful questioning, once we had learned their language-but denied that they were evildoers. Apparently, they had disagreed with their Administrator on principles of policy.”

  Raph nodded his head knowingly: “ Ah, and refused to abide by the common decision. Is that it?”

  “More confusing than that. They insist there was no common decision. They claim that the Administrator decided on policy of his own accord.”

  “And was not replaced?”

  “Apparently those who believe he should are considered criminals -as these were.”

  There was a frank pause of disbelief. Then Raph said: “Does that sound reasonable to you?”

  “No, I merely relay to you their words. Of course, the Eekah language is quite a barrier. Some of the sounds can’t be pronounced: words have different meanings according to position in the sentence and according to tiny differences in inflection. And it happens often that Eekah words even when best translated are a complete puzzle.”

  “They must have been surprised to find Gurrows here,” suggested Raph, “if they are members of a different genus.”

  “Surprised!” The Administrator’s voice sank: “I’ll say they were surprised. Now, this information has not been generally published for obvious reasons, so I hope you remember that it’s confidential. These Eekahs killed five Gurrows before they could be disarmed. They had an instrument that expelled metal pellets at high speed by means of a controlled explosive chemical reaction. We have duplicated it since. Naturally, under the circumstances, we are not branding them criminals, for it is reasonable to assume that they did not realize we were intelligent beings. Apparently,” and the Administrator smiled ruefully, “we resemble certain animals in their world. Or so they say.”

  But Raph was galvanized into a sudden enthusiasm: “Stars above! They said that, did they? Did they go into details? What kind of animals?”

  The Administrator was taken back: “Well, I don’t know. They give names in their language. What meaning has that? They called us giant ‘bears.’ “

  “Giant what?”

  “Bears. I haven’t the slightest idea what they are, except presumably that they look like us. I know of no such in America.”

  “Bears. Bears.” Raph stumbled over the word. “That’s interesting. It’s more than interesting. It’s stupendous. Do you know, Administrator, that there is a great dispute among us as to the ancestry of Gurrows? Living animals related to Gurrow sapiens would be of immense importance.” Raph rubbed his huge hands with pleasure.

  The Administrator was pleased at the sensation he had caused. He said: “And a puzzling thing in addition is that they call themselves by two names.”

  “Two names?”

  “Yes. No one knows the distinction yet, no matter how much the Eekahs explain it to us, except that one is a more general name, and one a more specific. The basis of the difference escapes us.”

  “I see. Which is ‘Eekah‘?”

  “That is the specific one. The general one is”-the Administrator stumbled slowly over the harsh syllables-”Chim-pan-zee. There, that’s it. There are a group called Eekahs and there are other groups with other names. But they are all called Chim…what I said before.”

  The Administrator sought through his mind for other juicy items of miscellany with which he was acquainted, but Raph interrupted him.

  “May I see Lernin tomorrow?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then I shall do so. Thank you for your courtesy, Administrator.”

  Lernin was a slight individual. It is doubtful if he weighed more than two hundred and fifty. There was also an imperfection in his walk, a slight lameness. But neither of these facts made much of an impression on Raph once the conversation had begun, for Lernin was a thinker who could impose his vigor upon others.

  It was Raph whose eagerness dominated the first half of the conversation, and Lernin’s comments were as luminous and as brief as lightning flashes. And then, there was a sudden whirl of the center of gravity, and Lernin took over.

  “You will excuse me, learned friend,” Lernin said with a characte
ristic stiffness that he could make so amiable, “if I find your problem unimportant. No, no”-he lifted a long-fingered hand-”not, in the uncomplicated talk of the times, merely unimportant to myself because my interest lies elsewhere, but unimportant to the Grouping of all the Groupings-to every single Gurrow from end to end of the world.”

  The concept was staggering. For a moment, Raph was offended; offended deep in his sense of individuality. It showed in his face.

  Lernin added quickly: “It may sound impolite, crude, uncivilized. But I must explain. I must explain because you are primarily a social scientist and will understand-perhaps better than we ourselves.”

  “My life-interest,” said Raph angrily, “is important to myself. I cannot assume those of others in preference.”

  “What I talk about should be the life-interest of all-if only because it may be the means of saving the lives of all of us.”

  Raph was beginning to suspect all sorts of things from a queer form of joking to the unbalance of mind that sometimes came with age. Yet Lernin was not old.

  Lernin said, with an impressive fervor: “The Eekahs of the other world are a danger to us, for they are not friendly to us.”

  And Raph replied naturally: “How do you know?”

  “No one other than myself, my friend, has lived more closely with these Eekahs who have arrived here, and I find them people with minds of emotional content strange to us. I have collected queer facts which we find difficult to interpret, but which point, at any rate, in disquieting directions.

  “I’ll list a few: Eekahs in organized groups kill one another periodically for obscure reasons. Eekahs find it impossible to live in manner other than those of ants-that is, in huge conglomerate societies-yet find it impossible to allow for the presence of one another. Or, to use the terminology of the social scientists, they are gregarious without being social, just as we Gurrows are social without being gregarious. They have elaborate codes of behavior, which, we are told, are taught to the young, but which are disobeyed in universal practice, for reasons obscure to us. Et cetera. Et cetera. Et cetera.”