Brain World up-7

by Mack Reynolds

  Settled again, spaced out very informally, Fredric said, “I suggest that we elect a chairman.”

  Darlene, who was an older edition of Rosemary, and just as attractive, in a more mature way, said, “You asked for it. I nominate Fredric.”

  “Second,” Mattie said.

  “Any more nominations?” Barbara said.

  Evidently there were none. On the face of it, nobody gave a damn who the chairman was. The vote was unanimous.

  All sipped their coffee for a moment.

  Dorn Horsten politely said to Marvin, “That’s a beautiful ring you have. Looks something like an Earth-side opal. One of the Australian black opals. I’ve always admired them.”

  Marvin took it off and handed it over to the doctor. He said, “Yes, our Einstein opals are basically quite similar of those of Earth. They aren’t a crystalline body, of course, but an amorphous mass of hydrous silica, which, in solidifying from a jelly-like state, is penetrated by cracks, these later becoming filled with material differing in water content from the original material and hence of different density. It becomes a beautiful gem. We don’t have the fire opal here, such as I know is a product of Mother Earth, but our black opals are, in all modesty, superior to those of Australia and what was once called Czechoslovakia.”

  He had lost Ronny way back.

  Dorn examined the ring appreciatively and said, “It is certainly one of the most beautiful gems I have ever seen.” He handed it back towards its owner.

  “It is yours,” Marvin said.

  Dorn Horsten ogled him. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “But it is.”

  Dorn said, “See here. On Earth, or a dozen other worlds that I can think of, I could sell this jewel and retire for the rest of my life. It’s priceless.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Dorn shook his head. “We seem to be talking about two different things. I meant that this opal is extremely valuable and that… ”

  “It has no value whatsoever, on Einstein. It’s priceless.”

  Ronny joined with Dorn in gaping at him. Ronny Bronston knew precious little about precious stones but this one was obviously a gem that a Byzantine emperor would have been proud of.

  Marvin said, a bit uncomfortably, “I suppose that this is the purpose of our getting together. You wish to learn something of the workings of Einstein before our admission into United Planets. What I meant was that in our society nothing has exchange value since we produce for use rather than for sale with a view to profit. So far as exchange value is concerned, the stone is worth neither more nor less than this shirt I wear, or this house which we are in.”

  The two Section G agents tried to assimilate that. In their time they had been on worlds with some truly off-beat socio-economic systems.

  Dorn and Ronny looked at each other.

  Dorn said, “Can you think of anything else to ask, immediately?”

  Ronny thought about it for a moment before looking at Rosemary and saying, “Yes. When we first met, you called me the notorious Ronny Bronston. Ronny is my nickname, but how could you have known that?” He turned his eyes to Fredric and said, “You called me the famed Ronald Bronston. Famed for what?”

  Darlene chirped a charming laugh. “We’re not as uninformed as all that. Of all humanity, you and one other Bureau of Investigation agent, Phil Birdman, are the only ones ever to have landed on a Dawnworld Planet… and survived.”

  Dorn Horsten and Ronny Bronston suddenly went cold and hard.

  “Not exactly,” Ronny said finally. “The others were brainwashed. Where and what did you hear about the Dawnworld Planets?”

  Dorn added flatly, “Their very existence is top secret.”

  Chapter Eleven

  It all came back to Ronny Bronston.

  He had been a First Grade Agent at the time when a small exploratory task force came upon the planets where the monkey-sized intelligent life forms originated. They had inhabited twelve planets in three star systems. It had been determined that theirs was a life form which breathed an oxygen-nitrogen combination, as did man, but when found their worlds all had a methane-hydrogen-ammonia atmosphere. In short, poison gas. It would seem that some other advanced race had completely destroyed them.

  It was obvious, too, that the race beyond the small intelligent life form was far from benevolent. Ross Metaxa had taken a chance and summoned the heads of state of the most advanced worlds belonging to the United Planets and revealed to them the true nature of Section G and how it had been subverting Articles One and Two of the United Planets Charter in order to prod mankind into all-out progress.

  It had been a mistake. It was found that man will not necessarily unite in the face of a common danger if his political, socioeconomic or religious institutions are threatened. Better dead than red, had been the American slogan back in the 20th Century when the whole world had been faced with nuclear holocaust; and the Russians had similar slogans about capitalism.

  Some of the member planets had immediately dropped out of the confederation, and Ross Metaxa was afraid that if the story spread, and the more backward worlds found that their institutions had been tampered with by Section G, that they would desert en masse.

  Indeed, the ambitious Supreme Commandant of the militaristically inclined planet Phrygia, Baron Maximilian Wyler, had taken off almost immediately in his space yacht and headed home. And it was soon found that he dominated Interplanetary Press, the news service.

  Metaxa had dispatched Ronny Bronston under vague orders to do whatever could be done to shut up the Baron.

  On the way, Ronny had become acquainted with Rita Daniels, niece of the dictator of Phrygia, who had dropped information indicating just how ambitious Wyler was.

  On Phrygia he had found that there was only one other Section G agent there, Phil Birdman, of Indian descent and originally from the planet Piegan. Birdman had accumulated information that indicated that Baron Wyler was eager to attack his neighboring worlds and to form an empire. Ronny had gotten in touch with Metaxa and Jakes and made arrangements for him to be named a plenipotentiary extraordinary from United Planets to the Supreme Commandant of Phrygia. The Baron evidently had some of his heavies out looking for Ronny Bronston, and Ronny wanted to throw around some weight.

  Metaxa saw it through. The president had declared Ronny a special mission to Baron Wyler and Sid Jakes had notified the Supreme Commandant that Ronald Bronston was on his way.

  The reception had been more than impressive. Above ground, the Baron’s palace was a replica of that of King Minos’ Knossos, complete with guards in Cretan armor, even to chariots. Below ground, it was the height of modernity.

  Ronny had been whisked to the Supreme Commandant’s personal quarters in the bowels of the building. When the elevator door had opened, he was confronted by a tall, heavy-set man, his face beaming and his hand extended for a hearty shake. Baron Wyler carried his weight well; gracefully might be the better word. He moved as a trained pugilist moves, or perhaps one of the larger cats. His charm reached out and embraced you, all but suffocating you. His face was open; his eyes, blue and wide-set; his arched Hapsburg nose giving an aristocratic quality that only his overwhelming friendliness could dissipate.

  Ronny had been taken to as comfortable a room as the Section G agent could ever remember having been in and there had been surprised to find that Wyler had a complete dossier on him down to the most intimate facts.

  He also had some startling information. His space fleet had landed on the worlds of the small life forms and, wearing gas masks, had gathered up what information they could. This included a star chart of the some hundred of what the Baron called the Dawnman Worlds and of various films and tapes which had obviously been taken on these worlds.

  He showed one of these films to Ronny, in particular a close-up of one of the Dawnmen. “But that’s a human being!” Ronny had blurted. The Dawnman was incredibly handsome. He was dressed in nothing more than brief shorts and sandals. He had a golden-brow
n coloration, was of bodily perfection seldom seen and then only among physical culture perfectionists who spend a lifetime achieving it. He could have stepped off a pedestal in a Greek temple devoted to the god Apollo. He seemed to be about six and a half feet tall and to weigh about one hundred and ninety. His hair was dark cream, his eyes were blue and very clear and there was the slightest of smiles on his lips! There was no indication that he was aware of being photographed.

  Baron Wyler had told Ronny that evidently the technology of the Dawnworlds was incredibly advanced. They had such things as nuclear fusion, and, hence, unlimited power, and matter conversion units that could make anything out of anything. But, said the Baron, there was just one thing in which the Dawnmen differed from man. These aliens didn’t seem to be intelligent.

  Ronny had bug-eyed him and Baron Wyler had summoned one of his top scientists, the elderly Academecian Count Felix Fitzjames to help explain. He had dubbed this alien culture the Dawnmen because there was a hypothesis that man had originated there and that Earth had been seeded from one of their planets, that Cro-Magnon man was of the same stock.

  The academician explained why it was possible that the Dawnmen were not intelligent. Given a creature with a voicebox and a hand suitable for using tools and, even though his intelligence was low, in a few megayears, bit by bit, he would accumulate knowledge and know-how until in time even matter converters would be his to utilize.

  Count Fitzjames had gone on to compare, the Dawnworlds with the caste system of India. The Aryan invaders of the sub-continent had been afraid that unless they took stringent measures, they would soon interbreed with the more numerous indigenous people to the point of merging with them. So they divided society into four orders: the Brahmins, who kept up religious and scholarly pursuits; the Kshatriyas, who were the ruling class and warriors; and the Vaishyas, traders and businessmen. All these were composed of the conquering Aryans. Intermarriage between castes was forbidden—a deep religious matter. Below these three castes were the Sudras, which were composed of the original peoples and took over the laboring jobs. Beneath these were the outcastes, the untouchables, who were consigned to the most menial tasks. According to the academician, under the caste system the Indians had made many of the important breakthroughs of the human race, such as discovering the zero in mathematics, at a time when most Europeans were running about in animal skins.

  He pointed out that under such a system a man who belonged to, say, the cobbler caste, would pass on his trade to his descendents. It would never occur to them to do anything but make shoes, any more than it would occur to a Brahmin not to get the best education available. After a few thousand years, the cobbler caste would be turning out some superlative shoes, and after a few megayears at it they would instinctively make shoes. It would become a matter of genetics. Over the megayears, the inadequate shoemakers, the throwbacks, would have been weeded out. It would be similar to the bees who need no training to collect honey, or the soldier ant to guard the ant community. In short, a ritual-taboo society.

  After the Count had left, Baron Wyler had explained to Ronny why he had revealed all this information. He was ambitious to achieve in actuality what Section G had been working on for a century or more, that is a real United Planets, a strong progressive United Planets—under his banner, of course. To achieve this, he needed good men, such as Ronny, on his team.

  Ronny pointed out that it would seem unlikely that even such a militarily inclined a world as Phrygia could take on all 2435 other worlds of United Planets. But the Baron had merely smiled and told him they had the star chart that revealed the location of the Dawnman worlds. Given one of those matter converters, nothing could stand in his way. His scientists could duplicate it in any size, and overnight he would have at his command a fleet of space cruisers that would dwarf the combined might of the whole confederation.

  Taken aback, Ronny had said he’d think it over and returned to the quarters of Phil Birdman where he immediately got in touch with Metaxa and Sid Jakes. Metaxa, obviously hating to say it, told Ronny he must get hold of that star chart. They had to know the location of the Dawnworlds.

  There was only one thing to do. Either he or Birdman had to go into pseudo-time and enter the palace. Undoubtedly, the chart would be near the Baron since he was obviously working night and day on his project. Birdman protested that he was already forty-five years of age and going into pseudo-time for any protracted period took at least fifteen years off your life. Ronny was only thirty-two so he took on the job.

  They drove to the palace and parked before the main entry and Ronny slipped a syrette into his arm. Within moments, the world seemingly stopped. All movement stopped. Munching energypills as fast as he could, he dashed for the underground living quarters of the Baron. He found the Baron, stock-still as was everybody else, in conference with some of his military leaders, and, after difficulties, found the chart and dashed back with it, still desperately bolting energy pills which were having less and less effect on him.

  They started back for town, the Baron’s security guards close behind, and knew that they wouldn’t make it. Luck intervened and on the way they met Rita Daniels and abducted her as a hostage, since she was the Baron’s favorite relative.

  Knowing that the Baron would undoubtedly immediately head for the Dawnworlds, before the United Planets Space Fleet could intervene, Ronny and Birdman, under Metaxa’s orders, summoned a space cruiser and, still holding Rita Daniels as a hostage, set off for the nearest Dawnworld themselves.

  Captain Gary Volos and his three officers of the Space Cruiser Pisa had at first given them trouble, thinking they were challenging Articles One and Two of the Charter, in abducting the niece of a head of state, but when the Dawnman planet was reached they had come around. They had soon detected Baron Wyler’s space yacht and Ronny landed to reconnoiter.

  The planet was one large garden with nothing resembling a city to be seen. However, Ronny had soon stumbled upon a group of the Dawnmen, obviously having a picnic. They completely ignored him, as though he simply wasn’t there. With them, they had several coffee-grinder-looking devices which were, on the face of it, matter converters. They could pour even sand in the top and come up with fruit, wine, or whatever else they wanted.

  Ronny had been tempted to steal one of them but some instinct prevented him and he refrained. He received a call from the Pisa and found that the Baron had got in touch with them and was requesting help.

  He returned to the space cruiser and they landed next to the Baron’s yacht. Ronny went over and found that only Baron Wyler and Count Fitzjames occupied the spaceship.

  The Baron, a broken man, revealed that all of his crew had been sent out with orders to obtain a matter converter, and anything else that seemed desirable. They had been captured and taken to the top of a pyramid-like ancient building, placed on an altar and one by one had their hearts cut from their chests in a religious ceremony similar to that of the Aztecs.

  Count Fitzjames thought he had figured it out. Using the Indian caste system again, as an example, he contended that the Dawnmen had evolved a very high industrial level, bee-hive type culture. They’re a happy people, he said. Everybody is happy—or he’s a genetic defective and disposed of, because he is a genetic defective, or he’d be happy.

  They were evidently not aggressive, but were insect-like in their manner of defense of their territories and their way of doing things. They weren’t aggressive since they were one hundred percent ritualistic and had no ritual for aggression. At first, he and the Baron had been amazed when they landed that the Dawnmen ignored them. But they couldn’t have done anything else since they had no rituals that applied to strangers. But they did have rituals that applied to stealing, and the Baron’s men had fallen victim to them. Undoubtedly the same thing had happened to the monkey-like aliens. The Dawnmen had ruthlessly destroyed their whole three star systems as a result.

  A telepathic message had at that point entered the minds of the three of them. T
he Baron was informed that Phrygia had been destroyed. But Ronny was informed that he committed no wrong and was instructed to return to Earth and warn others away. They had scanned his body and found the result of his having gone into pseudo-time and thus shortened his life. However, so that he could spread the warning they had made rectifications on him so that he will live some two and a half centuries.

  The voice-in-their-brains went on to explain that it represents the equivalent of the Brahmins on the Dawnworlds. It wound up saying, “We have no designs against you. So long as you have none against us, our cultures need never conflict. Farewell… ”

  Upon return to Earth, Metaxa rejected the idea of warning all human planets to stay away. He pointed out that more than one of the United Planets might react hysterically and want to go to war. Others would have elements among them that would want to steal, as the Baron had, the advanced technology. There would possibly even be religious cranks who’d want to send missionaries.

  Instead, the Baron, Rita Daniels, and both crews of the space cruisers were brainwashed, so that they’d forget all they knew about the Dawnworlds. Ronny and Birdman alone were deemed safe to have the information. And Ronny, in reward for his services, was raised to supervisor rank.

  Chapter Twelve

  Now Ronny was saying, “Where and what did you hear about the Dawnman Worlds?”

  Fredric said, “You mentioned that the others who landed with you had been brainwashed. I don’t believe I know that term. What do you mean?”

  “Memory wiped,” Ronny told him flatly. “All their memories about the Dawnworlds were erased.”