Mindswap

by Robert Sheckley

  'I beg your pardon?' Flynn asked.

  'The last is just the standard invocation. Let me see, I think that about covers it. You guarantee, of course, not to commit acts of sabotage, espionage, irreverence, disobedience, etc, and to furthermore eschew and desist from the practices of sexual perversion as defined in Hoffmeyer's Standard Book of Melden Perversions. And you also guarantee not to initiate a war, or to take part in a war on Melde if one is initiated, and to wash once every two days, and to stay out of debt, and not to become an alcoholic or insane person, and various other things to which no reasonable person could possibly object. And that about sums it up. If you have any important questions, I'll endeavour to answer them for you.'

  'Well,' Flynn said, 'about those things I'm supposed to guarantee-'

  'That's unimportant,' McHonnery said. 'Do you want the job or not? A simple yes or no will suffice.'

  Marvin had his doubts, but, unfortunately, he didn't have any alternatives; and this lack rendered his doubts extraneous to the situation. He thought fleetingly of the detective, then he put that thought firmly aside. As McHonnery had said, how bad could a week of anything be? Therefore he agreed to take the job, registering his assent upon the mind-sensitive universal signaturizer at the bottom of the page. McHonnery led him forthwith to the Transportation Centre, from which point minds were shipped across the galaxy at a multiple of the speed of thought.

  The next thing Marvin knew, he was on Melde, in a Melden body.

  Chapter 9

  The Ganzer Rain Forest on Melde was deep and wide; the faintest ghost of a breeze whispered among the colossal trees, slithered through the interlocked vines, and crept broken-backed over hook-edged grass. Drops of water slid painfully down and around the tangled foliage like exhausted runners of a maze, coming to rest at last in the spongy and indifferent soil. Shadows mingled and danced, faded and reappeared, called into spurious motion by two tired suns in a mouldy green sky. Overhead, a desolate therengol whistled for his mate, and heard in reply the quick ominous cough of a predatory kingspringer. And through this dolorous woodland, so tantalizingly like Earth and yet so different, Marvin Flynn moved in his unfamiliar Melden body, his eyes downcast, searching for ganzer eggs but not knowing what they looked like.

  All had been haste. From the moment he arrived on Melde, he had barely had a chance to take stock of himself. No sooner was he bodified than someone was barking orders in his ear. Flynn had just had time to look hastily over his four-armed, four-legged body, give his tail a single experimental flick, and fold his ears across his back; then he was herded into a work gang, given a barracks number and a mess-hall location, and handed a jumper two sizes too big for him, and shoes that fitted tolerably well except for the left front. He signed for and was given the tools of his new trade; a large plastic bag, dark glasses, a compass, a net, a pair of tongs, a heavy metal tripod, and a blaster.

  He and his fellow workers were then assembled in ranks, and received a hasty indoctrination lecture by the manager, a bored and supercilious Atreian.

  Flynn learned that his new home occupied an insignificant portion of space in the vicinity of Aldeberan. Melde (so named for its dominant race, the Meldens) was a thoroughly second-rate world. Its climate was rated 'intolerable' on the Hurlihan-Chanz Climatic Tolerance Scale; its natural-resource potentiality was classified 'submarginal', and its aesthetic-resonance factor (unweighted) was given as 'unprepossessing'.

  'Not the sort of place,' the manager said, 'that one would choose for a vacation, or indeed, for anything, except possibly the practice of extreme mortification.'

  His audience tittered uneasily.

  'Nevertheless,' the manager continued, 'this unloved and unlovely place, this solar misfortune, this cosmic mediocrity is home to its inhabitants, who consider it the finest place in the universe.'

  The Meldens, with a fierce pride in their only tangible asset, had made the best of their bad bargain. With the plucky determination of the eternally unlucky, they had farmed the edges of the rain forest and collected meagre low-yield ores from the vast blazing deserts. Their dogged persistence would have been inspiring had it not been so tedious; and their efforts might have been considered a tribute to the vaunting spirit of life had they not invariably ended in failure. Because, despite all their travail, the Meldens were able to achieve nothing better than slow starvation in the present, and the promise of racial degeneration and extinction in the future.

  'This, then, is Melde,' said the manager. 'Or rather, this is what Melde would be were it not for one additional factor. That factor spells the difference between success and failure. I refer, of course, to the presence of ganzer eggs.

  'Ganzer eggs!' the manager repeated. 'No other planet possesses them; no other planet so desperately needs them. Ganzer eggs! No object in the known universe so clearly epitomizes the quality of desirability. Ganzer eggs! Let us consider them, if you will.'

  Ganzer eggs were the sole export of the planet Melde. And luckily for the Meldens, the eggs were always in heavy use. On Orichades, ganzer eggs were utilized as love-objects; on Opiuchus II, they were ground up and eaten as a sovereign aphrodisiac; on Morichades, after consecration, they were worshipped by the irrational K'tengi. Many other uses could be cited.

  Thus, ganzer eggs were a vital natural resource, and the only one which the Meldens possessed. With them, the Meldens could maintain a tolerable degree of civilization. Without them, the race would surely perish.

  To acquire a ganzer egg, all one had to do was pick it up. But therein lay certain difficulties, since the ganzers, not unnaturally, objected to this practice.

  The ganzers were forest dwellers, remotely of lizard origin. They also were destroyers, clever at concealment, wily and ferocious, and completely untameable. These qualities rendered the collection of ganzer eggs extremely perilous.

  'It is a curious situation,' the manager pointed out, 'and not without its paradoxical overtones, that the main source of life on Melde is also the main cause of death. It is something for you all to think about as you begin your workday. And so I say, take good care of yourselves, keep guarded at all times, look before you leap, observe every precaution with your indentured lives, and also with the costly bodies which have been entrusted to your keeping. But in addition, remember that you must fulfill your norm, since every day's work unfulfilled by so much as a single egg is penalized by the addition of an additional week. Therefore, be careful, but not too careful, and be perseverant, but not blindly so, and courageous, but not rash, and assiduous, but never foolhardy. Follow these simple maxims and you will have no difficulty. Good luck, boys!'

  Marvin and his fellow workers were then formed into ranks and marched into the forest on the double.

  Within an hour they reached their search area. Marvin Flynn took this opportunity to ask the foreman for instructions.

  'Instructions?' the foreman asked. 'What kind of type instructions?' (He was an Orinathian deportee with no language aptitude.)

  'I mean,' Flynn said, 'what am I supposed to do?'

  The foreman pondered the question and at length responded: 'You supposed pick eggs of ganzer.' (Amusingly enough, he pronounced it 'guntser'.)

  'I understand that,' Flynn said. 'But I mean to say, I don't even know what a ganzer eggs looks like.'

  'Not to worry,' the foreman replied. 'You know when see no mistake, yes.'

  'Yes, sir,' Marvin said. 'And when I find a ganzer egg, are there any special rules for handling it? I mean to say, is breakage a problem, or-'

  'To handle,' the foreman said, 'you pick up egg, put in bag. You understand this thing yes no?'

  'Of course I do,' Marvin said. 'But also, I would like to know about daily quota expectations. I mean to say, is there some sort of a quota system, or perhaps an hourly breakdown? I mean, how does one know when one has fulfilled his norm?'

  'Ah!' said the foreman, a look of comprehension finally crossing his broad, good-natured face. 'Of finish is like this. You pick ganze
r egg, put in bag, check?'

  'Check,' Marvin said instantly.

  'You do so time after time until bag is full. Catch?'

  'I believe I do,' Marvin said. 'The full bag represents the actual or ideal quota. Let me just go over the steps again to make absolutely sure I've got it. First, I locate the ganzer eggs, applying Terran associations to the concept, and presumably having no difficulty in identification. Second, having located and identified the desired object, I proceed to "put it in my basket", by which I assume that I lift it manually to initiate the transaction, and then proceed with actions consonant with that beginning. Third, repeating this strategy S for an x number of times, I perform the equation Sx=B!, when B represents the capacity of the bag and ! represents the sum of x transactions necessary to fulfill B. Finally, the sum of all strategies completed, I return to the camp, where I turn in the contents of my bag. Do I have it straight, sir?'

  The foreman tapped his teeth with his tail and said, 'You put me on, huh, kid?'

  'Well, sir, I merely wished to ascertain-'

  'You make big joke on old-planet Orinathian yokel, yah, sure, huh. You think you so smart, but you ain't so smart. Remember – nobody likes wise guy.'

  'I'm sorry,' Flynn said, swishing his tail deferentially. (But he wasn't sorry. It was his first show of spirit since this downward-trending series of events had begun for him, and he was glad to find himself capable of some show of spirit, no matter how ill-timed or badly considered.)

  'Anyhow, me I tink you catch elementary rudiments of job all right so you go now perform work-labour big, and keep nose clean or I break six or more of your limbs, dig?'

  'Dig,' said Flynn, wheeled and cantered into the forest and there began his search for ganzer eggs.

  Chapter 10

  Marvin Flynn wondered as he wandered just what a ganzer egg looked like. He also would have enjoyed knowing what he was supposed to use his equipment for; the sunglasses were useless in the dim recesses of the forest, and the heavy tripod was incomprehensible.

  He slid silently through the forest, his nostrils flared wide, his eyes extended and swivelling, their blink-rate reduced. His golden hide, scented faintly with appisthyme, twitched sensitively as his great muscles moved beneath it, apparently relaxed yet poised for instant action.

  The forest was a symphony of greens and greys, cut through with the occasional scarlet theme of a creeper, or the purple flourish of a lillibabba shrub, or rarer still, the haunting oboe countermelody of an orange whip-whinger. Yet withal, the effect was essentially a sombre and thought-provoking one, like the sight of a vast amusement park in the silent hour before dawn.

  But there! Right over there! A little to the left! Yes, yes, just beneath the boku tree! Is that… ? Could it be… ?

  Flynn parted the leaves with his right arms and bent low. There, in a nest of grass and woven twigs, he saw a glittering ovoid that resembled nothing quite so much as an ostrich egg encrusted with precious gems.

  The foreman had been right. There could be no mistaking a ganzer egg.

  Gazing carefully upon that singular object, and taking stock of his impressions, Marvin could see the light of a million fairy fires burning bright in the curved and multihued ganzer surface. Shadows drifted across it like the fragrance of half-remembered dreams, twisting and turning like the descending ghosts of phantoms. An emotion welled up in Marvin, of twilight and evensong, of slow cattle grazing near a crystal brook, of dusty, heartbroken cypresses beside a white stone road.

  Although it wrenched his sensibilities to do so, Marvin bent down and reached out, with the straightforward intention of lifting the ganzer egg and sequestering it within his plastic bag. His hand folded lovingly around the glowing orb.

  He pulled his hand back quickly; the glowing orb was hotter than hell.

  Marvin looked at the ganzer egg with new respect. Now he understood the purpose of the tongs with which he had been equipped. He manoeuvred them into position and closed the jaws gently on the spheroid of dreams.

  The spheroid of dreams bounced away from him like a rubber ball. Marvin galloped after it, fumbling with his net. The ganzer egg twisted and ricocheted, and bolted for thick underbrush. Marvin cast his net in desperation, and fortune guided his hand. The ganzer egg was neatly netted. It lay quietly, pulsating as though out of breath. Marvin approached it cautiously, ready for any trick.

  Instead, the ganzer egg spoke. 'Look, mister,' it said, in a muffled voice. 'Just what's eating you?'

  'Beg pardon?' Marvin said.

  'Look,' the ganzer egg said, 'I am sitting here in a public park minding my own business when suddenly you come up and pounce on me like a lunatic, bruising my shoulder and acting in general like some kind of nut. Well, naturally, I get a little hot. Who wouldn't? So I decide to move away because it's my day off and I don't want no trouble. So you up and throw a net around me like I was a goddamned fish or a butterfly or something. So I just want to know, what's the big idea?'

  'Well,' Marvin said, 'you see, you're a ganzer egg.'

  'I'm aware of that,' the ganzer egg said. 'Sure I'm a ganzer egg. Is there a law against that all of a sudden?'

  'Certainly not,' Marvin said. 'But as it happens, I am hunting ganzer eggs.'

  There was a short silence. Then the ganzer egg said, 'Would you mind repeating that?'

  Marvin did. The ganzer egg said, 'Mmm, that's what I thought you said.' He laughed feebly. 'You're kidding, aren't you?'

  'Sorry, I'm not'

  'Sure you are,' the ganzer egg said, a note of desperation in his voice, 'So OK, you've had your fun. Now let me out of here.'

  'Sorry …'

  'Let me out!'

  'I can't.'

  'Why?'

  'Because I'm hunting ganzer eggs.'

  'My God,' the ganzer egg said, 'this is the craziest thing I've ever heard in my life. You never met me before, did you? So why are you hunting me?'

  'I've been hired to hunt ganzer eggs,' Marvin told him.

  'Look, fella, are you trying to tell me that you just go around hunting any ganzer egg at all? You don't care which one?'

  'That's right.'

  'And you aren't really looking for one particular ganzer egg who maybe did you a bad turn?'

  'No, no,' Marvin said. 'I've never even met a ganzer egg before.'

  'You've never … and yet you hunt … ? I must be going out of my mind, I can't be hearing right. I mean, things like this just don't happen. I mean, it's like some kind of an incredible nightmare … I mean, it's the sort of thing you get crazy nightmares about – some crazy-looking guy walking up calm as you please and grabbing you and saying in a sort of crazy deadpan voice, "I happen to be hunting for ganzer eggs." I mean – look, fella, you are putting me on, aren't you?'

  Marvin was embarrassed and exasperated, and he wished the ganzer egg would shut up. He said gruflly, 'I'm not fooling. My job is to collect ganzer eggs.'

  'Collect … ganzer eggs!' the ganzer egg moaned. 'Oh no, no, no, no! My God, I can't believe this is happening, and yet it really is happening, it really is-'

  'Control yourself,' Marvin said; the ganzer egg was clearly on the thin edge of hysteria.

  'Thank you,' the ganzer egg said, after a moment. 'I'm all right now. I didn't mean to – to give way.'

  'That's all right,' Marvin said. 'Are you ready to be collected now?'

  'I – I'm trying to get used to the idea. It's so … so … Look, could I ask you just one question?'

  'Hurry it up,' Marvin said.

  'The thing I want to ask,' the ganzer egg said, 'do you get some kind of a charge out of this sort of thing? I mean are you some sort of pervert? I don't mean to be insulting.'

  'That's all right,' Marvin said. 'No, I'm not a pervert, and I can assure you I take no pleasure in this. It's strictly a job with me.'

  'Strictly a job,' the ganzer egg repeated. 'A job. To kidnap a ganzer egg whom you've never met before. Just a job. Like picking up a stone. Only I'm not a stone, I'm a ganzer
egg!'

  'I realize that,' Marvin said. 'Believe me. I'm finding all of this very strange.'

  'You're finding it strange!' the ganzer egg said, his voice rising to a scream. 'How do you think I feel? Do you think maybe I think it's natural for someone to come along like in a nightmare and collect me?'

  'Steady,' Marvin said.

  'Sorry,' the ganzer egg said. 'I'm all right now.'

  'I'm really very sorry about this,' Marvin said. 'But you see, I've got this job and this quota, and if I don't do it I'll have to spend the rest of my life here.'

  'Crazy,' the ganzer egg whispered to himself. 'He's absolutely and completely insane.'

  'So I have to collect you,' Marvin finished, and reached out.

  'Wait!' the ganzer egg howled, in so panicstricken a voice that Marvin desisted.

  'What is it now?'

  'May – may I leave a note for my wife?'

  'There isn't time,' Marvin said firmly.

  'Then will you at least let me say my prayers?'

  'Go ahead and say them,' Marvin said. 'But you'll really have to be quick about it.'

  'Oh Lord God,' the ganzer egg intoned, 'I don't know what is happening to me, or why. I have always tried to be a good person, and although I am not a regular churchgoer, You surely know that true religion is in the heart. I've maybe done some bad things in my life, I won't deny it. But Lord, why this punishment? Why me? Why not someone else, one of the real bad ones, one of the criminals? Why me? And why like this? Something is collecting me like I'm some sort of a thing… And I don't understand. But I know that You are All-Wise and All-Powerful, and I know that You are good, so I guess there must be a reason … even if I'm too stupid to see it. So look, God, if this is it, then OK, this is it. But could you look after my wife and kids? And could you especially look after the little one?' The ganzer egg's voice broke, but he recovered almost at once. 'I ask especially for the little one, God, because he's lame and the other kids pick on him and he needs a lot – a lot of love. Amen.'