The Sack
William Morrison
An alien being is found on an asteroid which gladly answers any question it is asked. But will it be for good or for bad for humanity to have every question readily answered?
The Sack
by William Morrison
At first they hadn’t even known that the Sack existed. If they had noticed it at all when they landed on the asteroid, they thought of it merely as one more outpost of rock on the barren expanse of roughly ellipsoidal silicate surface, which Captain Ganko noticed had major and minor axes roughly three and two miles in diameter, respectively. It would never have entered anyone’s mind that the unimpressive object they had unconsciously acquired would soon be regarded as the most valuable prize in the system.
The landing had been accidental. The government patrol ship had been limping along, and now it had settled down for repairs, which would take a good seventy hours. Fortunately, they had plenty of air, and their recirculation system worked to perfection. Food was in somewhat short supply, but it didn’t worry them, for they knew that they could always tighten their belts and do without full rations for a few days. The loss of water that had resulted from a leak in the storage tanks, however, was a more serious matter. It occupied a good part of their conversation during the next fifty hours.
Captain Ganko said finally, “There’s no use talking, it won’t be enough. And there are no supply stations close enough at hand to be of any use. We’ll have to radio ahead and hope that they can get a rescue ship to us with a reserve supply.”
The helmet mike of his next in command seemed to droop. “It’ll be too bad if we miss each other in space, Captain.”
Captain Ganko laughed unhappily. “It certainly will. In that case we’ll have a chance to see how we can stand a little dehydration.”
For a time nobody said anything. At last, however, the second mate suggested, “There might be water somewhere on the asteroid, sir.”
“Here? How in Pluto would it stick, with a gravity that isn’t even strong enough to hold loose rocks? And where the devil would it be?”
“To answer the first question first, it would be retained as water of crystallization,” replied a soft liquid voice that seemed to penetrate his spacesuit and come from behind him. “To answer the second question, it is half a dozen feet below the surface, and can easily be reached by digging.”
They had all swiveled around at the first words. But no one was in sight in the direction from which the words seemed to come. Captain Ganko frowned, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. “We don’t happen to have a practical joker with us, do we?” he asked mildly.
“You do not,” replied the voice.
“Who said that?”
“I, Yzrl.”
A crewman became aware of something moving on the surface of one of the great rocks, and pointed to it. The motion stopped when the voice ceased, but they didn’t lose sight of it again. That was how they learned about Yzrl, or as it was more often called, the Mind-Sack.
If the ship and his services hadn’t both belonged to the government, Captain Ganko could have claimed the Sack for himself or his owners and retired with a wealth far beyond his dreams. As it was, the thing passed into government control. Its importance was realized almost from the first, and Jake Siebling had reason to be proud when more important and more influential figures of the political and industrial world were finally passed over and he was made Custodian of the Sack. Siebling was a short, stocky man whose one weakness was self-deprecation. He had carried out one difficult assignment after another and allowed other men to take the credit. But this job was not one for a blowhard, and those in charge of making the appointment knew it. For once they looked beyond credit and superficial reputation, and chose an individual they disliked somewhat but trusted absolutely. It was one of the most effective tributes to honesty and ability ever devised.
The Sack, as Siebling learned from seeing it daily, rarely deviated from the form in which it had made its first appearance—a rocky, grayish lump that roughly resembled a sack of potatoes. It had no features, and there was nothing, when it was not being asked questions, to indicate that it had life. It ate rarely—once in a thousand years, it said, when left to itself; once a week when it was pressed into steady use. It ate or moved by fashioning a suitable pseudopod and stretching the thing out in whatever way it pleased. When it had attained its objective, the pseudopod was withdrawn into the main body again and the creature became once more a potato sack.
It turned out later that the name “Sack” was well chosen from another point of view, in addition to that of appearance. For the Sack was stuffed with information, and beyond that, with wisdom. There were many doubters at first, and some of them retained their doubts to the very end, just as some people remained convinced hundreds of years after Columbus that the Earth was flat. But those who saw and heard the Sack had no doubts at all. They tended, if anything, to go too far in the other direction, and to believe that the Sack knew everything. This, of course, was untrue.
It was the official function of the Sack, established by a series of Interplanetary acts, to answer questions. The first questions, as we have seen, were asked accidentally, by Captain Ganko. Later they were asked purposefully, but with a purpose that was itself random, and a few politicians managed to acquire considerable wealth before the Government put a stop to the leak of information, and tried to have the questions asked in a more scientific and logical manner.
Question time was rationed for months in advance, and sold at what was, all things considered, a ridiculously low rate—a mere hundred thousand credits a minute. It was this unrestricted sale of time that led to the first great government squabble.
It was the unexpected failure of the Sack to answer what must have been to a mind of its ability an easy question that led to the second blowup, which was fierce enough to be called a crisis. A total of a hundred and twenty questioners, each of whom had paid his hundred thousand, raised a howl that could be heard on every planet, and there was a legislative investigation, at which Siebling testified and all the conflicts were aired.
He had left an assistant in charge of the Sack, and now, as he sat before the Senatorial Committee, he twisted uncomfortably in front of the battery of cameras. Senator Horrigan, his chief interrogator, was a bluff, florid, loud-mouthed politician who had been able to imbue him with a feeling of guilt even as he told his name, age, and length of government service.
“It is your duty to see to it that the Sack is maintained in proper condition for answering questions, is it not, Mr. Siebling?” demanded Senator Horrigan.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then why was it incapable of answering the questioners in question? These gentlemen had honestly paid their money—a hundred thousand credits each. It was necessary, I understand, to refund the total sum. That meant an overall loss to the Government of, let me see now—one hundred twenty at one hundred thousand each—one hundred and twenty million credits,” he shouted, rolling the words.
“Twelve million, Senator,” hastily whispered his secretary.
The correction was not made, and the figure was duly headlined later as one hundred and twenty million.
Siebling said, “As we discovered later, Senator, the Sack failed to answer questions because it was not a machine, but a living creature. It was exhausted. It had been exposed to questioning on a twenty-four-hour-a-day basis.”
“And who permitted this idiotic procedure?” boomed Senator Horrigan.
“You yourself, Senator,” said Siebling happily. “The procedure was provided for in the bill introduced by you and approved by your committee.”
Senator Horrigan had never even read the bill to which his name was attached, and he was certainly not to blame
for its provisions. But this private knowledge of his own innocence did him no good with the public. From that moment he was Siebling’s bitter enemy.
“So the Sack ceased to answer questions for two whole hours?”
“Yes, sir. It resumed only after a rest.”
“And it answered them without further difficulty?”
“No, sir. Its response was slowed down. Subsequent questioners complained that they were defrauded of a good part of their money. But as answers were given, we considered that the complaints were without merit, and the financial department refused to make refunds.”
“Do you consider that this cheating of investors in the Sack’s time is honest?”
“That’s none of my business, Senator,” returned Siebling, who had by this time got over most of his nervousness. “I merely see to the execution of the laws. I leave the question of honesty to those who make them. I presume that it’s in perfectly good hands.”
Senator Horrigan flushed at the laughter that came from the onlookers. He was personally unpopular, as unpopular as a politician can be and still remain a politician. He was disliked even by the members of his own party, and some of his best political friends were among the laughers. He decided to abandon what had turned out to be an unfortunate line of questioning.
“It is a matter of fact, Mr. Siebling, is it not, that you have frequently refused admittance to investors who were able to show perfectly valid receipts for their credits?”
“That is a fact, sir. But—”
“You admit it, then.”
“There is no question of `admitting’ anything, Senator. What I meant to say was—”
“Never mind what you meant to say. It’s what you have already said that’s important. You’ve cheated these men of their money!”
“That is not true, sir. They were given time later. The reason for my refusal to grant them admission when they asked for it was that the time had been previously reserved for the Armed Forces. There are important research questions that come up, and there is, as you know, a difference of opinion as to priority. When confronted with requisitions for time from a commercial investor and a representative of the Government, I never took it upon myself to settle the question. I always consulted with the Government’s legal adviser.”
“So you refused to make an independent decision, did you?”
“My duty, Senator, is to look after the welfare of the Sack. I do not concern myself with political questions. We had a moment of free time the day before I left the asteroid, when an investor who had already paid his money was delayed by a space accident, so instead of letting the moment go to waste, I utilized it to ask the Sack a question.”
“How you might advance your own fortunes, no doubt?”
“No, sir. I merely asked it how it might function most efficiently. I took the precaution of making a recording, knowing that my word might be doubted. If you wish, Senator, I can introduce the recording in evidence.”
Senator Horrigan grunted, and waved his hand. “Go on with your answer.”
“The Sack replied that it would require two hours of complete rest out of every twenty, plus an additional hour of what it called `recreation.’ That is, it wanted to converse with some human being who would ask what it called sensible questions, and not press for a quick answer.”
“So you suggest that the Government waste three hours of every twenty—one hundred and eighty million credits?”
“Eighteen million,” whispered the secretary.
“The time would not be wasted. Any attempt to overwork the Sack would result in its premature annihilation.”
“That is your idea, is it?”
“No, sir, that is what the Sack itself said.”
At this point Senator Horrigan swung into a speech of denunciation, and Siebling was excused from further testimony. Other witnesses were called, but at the end the Senate investigating body was able to come to no definite conclusion, and it was decided to interrogate the Sack personally.
It was out of the question for the Sack to come to the Senate, so the Senate quite naturally came to the Sack. The Committee of Seven was manifestly uneasy as the senatorial ship decelerated and cast its grapples toward the asteroid. The members, as individuals, had all traveled in space before, but all their previous destinations had been in civilized territory, and they obviously did not relish the prospect of landing on this airless and sunless body of rock.
The televisor companies were alert to their opportunity, and they had acquired more experience with desert territory. They had disembarked and set up their apparatus before the senators had taken their first timid steps out of the safety of their ship.
Siebling noted ironically that in these somewhat frightening surroundings, far from their home grounds, the senators were not so sure of themselves. It was his part to act the friendly guide, and he did so with relish.
“You see, gentlemen,” he said respectfully, “it was decided, on the Sack’s own advice, not to permit it to be further exposed to possible collision with stray meteors. It was the meteors which killed off the other members of its strange race, and it was a lucky chance that the last surviving individual managed to escape destruction as long as it has. An impenetrable shelter dome has been built therefore, and the Sack now lives under its protection. Questioners address it through a sound and sight system that is almost as good as being face to face with it.”
Senator Horrigan fastened upon the significant part of his statement. “You mean that the Sack is safe—and we are exposed to danger from flying meteors?”
“Naturally, Senator. The Sack is unique in the system. Men—even senators—are, if you will excuse the expression, a decicredit a dozen. They are definitely replaceable, by means of elections.”
Beneath his helmet the senator turned green with a fear that concealed the scarlet of his anger. “I think it is an outrage to find the Government so unsolicitous of the safety and welfare of its employees!”
“So do I, sir. I live here the year round.” He added smoothly, “Would you gentlemen care to see the Sack now?”
They stared at the huge visor screen and saw the Sack resting on its seat before them, looking like a burlap bag of potatoes which had been tossed onto a throne and forgotten there. It looked so definitely inanimate that it struck them as strange that the thing should remain upright instead of toppling over. All the same, for a moment the senators could not help showing the awe that overwhelmed them. Even Senator Horrigan was silent.
But the moment passed. He said, “Sir, we are an official Investigating Committee of the Interplanetary Senate, and we have come to ask you a few questions.” The Sack showed no desire to reply, and Senator Horrigan cleared his throat and went on. “Is it true, sir, that you require two hours of complete rest in every twenty, and one hour for recreation, or, as I may put it, perhaps more precisely, relaxation?”
“It is true.”
Senator Horrigan gave the creature its chance, but the Sack, unlike a senator, did not elaborate. Another of the committee asked, “Where would you find an individual capable of conversing intelligently with so wise a creature as you?”
“Here,” replied the Sack.
“It is necessary to ask questions that are directly to the point, Senator,” suggested Siebling. “The Sack does not usually volunteer information that has not been specifically called for.”
Senator Horrigan said quickly, “I assume, sir, that when you speak of finding an intelligence on a par with your own, you refer to a member of our committee, and I am sure that of all my colleagues there is not one who is unworthy of being so denominated. But we cannot all of us spare the time needed for our manifold other duties, so I wish to ask you, sir, which of us, in your opinion, has the peculiar qualifications of that sort of wisdom which is required for this great task?”
“None,” said the Sack.
Senator Horrigan looked blank. One of the other senators flushed, and asked, “Who has?”
“Sieb
ling.”
Senator Horrigan forgot his awe of the Sack, and shouted, “This is a put-up job!”
The other senator who had just spoken now said suddenly, “How is it that there are no other questioners present? Hasn’t the Sack’s time been sold far in advance?”
Siebling nodded. “I was ordered to cancel all previous appointments with the Sack, sir.”
“By what idiot’s orders?”
“Senator Horrigan’s, sir.”
At this point the investigation might have been said to come to an end. There was just time, before they turned away, for Senator Horrigan to demand desperately of the Sack, “Sir, will I be re-elected?” But the roar of anger that went up from his colleagues prevented him from hearing the Sack’s answer, and only the question was picked up and broadcast clearly over the interplanetary network.
It had such an effect that it in itself provided Senator Horrigan’s answer. He was not re-elected. But before the election he had time to cast his vote against Siebling’s designation to talk with the Sack for one hour out of every twenty. The final committee vote was four to three in favor of Siebling, and the decision was confirmed by the Senate. And then Senator Horrigan passed temporarily out of the Sack’s life and out of Siebling’s.
Siebling looked forward with some trepidation to his first long interview with the Sack. Hitherto he had limited himself to the simple tasks provided for in his directives—to the maintenance of the meteor shelter dome, to the provision of a sparse food supply, and to the proper placement of an army and Space Fleet Guard. For by this time the great value of the Sack had been recognized throughout the system, and it was widely realized that there would be thousands of criminals anxious to steal so defenseless a treasure.
Now, Siebling thought, he would be obliged to talk to it, and he feared that he would lose the good opinion which it had somehow acquired of him. He was in a position strangely like that of a young girl who would have liked nothing better than to talk of her dresses and her boy friends to someone with her own background, and was forced to endure a brilliant and witty conversation with some man three times her age.
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