IV.
Guy Maynard looked reproachfully at Charalas. He felt that he had been tricked, that Charalas had kicked the bottom out of his argument and then had forced him into the debate with but an impromptu defense. He wondered how this discussion was to be conducted, and while he was striving to collect a lucid story, part of his mind heard Charalas going through the usual procedure for recording purposes.
"Who is this man?"
"He is Junior Executive Guy Maynard of the Terran Space Patrol."
"Explain his title."
"It is a rank of official service. It denotes certain abilities and responsibilities."
"Can you explain the position of his rank with respect to other ratings of more or less responsibility?"
Charalas counted off on his fingers. "From the lowest rank upward, the following titles are used: Junior Aide, Senior Aide, Junior Executive, Senior Executive, Sector Commander, Patrol Marshal, Sector Marshal, and Space Marshal."
"These are the commissioned officers? Are there other ratings?"
"Yes, shall I name them?"
"Prepare them for the record. There is no need of recounting the noncommissioned officials."
"I understand."
"How did Guy Maynard come to Ertene?"
"Maynard was rescued from a derelict spaceship."
"By whom?"
"Thomakein."
"Am I to assume that Thomakein brought him to Ertene for study?"
"That assumption is correct."
"The knowledge of the system of Sol is complete?"
"Between the information furnished by Guy Maynard and the observations made by Thomakein, the knowledge of Sol's planets is sufficient. More may be learned before Ertene loses contact, but for the time, it is adequate."
"And Guy Maynard is present for the purpose of explaining the Terran wishes in the question of whether Ertene is to remain here?"
"Correct."
The councilor who sat in the center of the group smiled at Guy and said: "Guy Maynard, this is an informal meeting. You are to rest assured we will not attempt to goad you into saying something you do not mean. If you are unprepared to answer a given question, ask for time to think. We will understand. However, we ask that you do not try to shade your answers in such a manner as to convey erring impressions. This is not a court of law; procedure is not important. Speak when and as you desire and understand that you will not be called to account for slight breaches of etiquette, since we all know that formality is a deterrent to the real point in argument."
Charalas added: "Absolute formality in argument usually ends in the decision going to the best orator. This is not desirable, since some of the more learned men are poor orators, while some of the best orators must rely upon the information furnished them by the learned."
The center councilor arose and called the other six councilors by name in introduction. This was slightly redundant since their names were all present in little bronze signs on the desks. It was a pleasantry aimed at putting the Terran at ease and offering him the right to call them by name.
"Now," said Terokar, the center one, "we shall begin. Everything we have said has been recorded for the records. But, Guy, we will remove anything from the record that would be detrimental to the integrity of any of us. We will play it back before you leave and you may censor it."
"Thank you," said Guy. "Knowing that records are to be kept as spoken will often deter honest expression."
"Quite true. That is why we permit censoring. Now, Guy, your wishes concerning Ertene's alliance with Sol."
"I invite Ertene to join the Solar System."
"Your invitation is appreciated. Please understand that the acceptance of such an invitation will change Ertene's social structure forever, and that it is not to be taken lightly."
"I realize that the invitation is not one to accept lightly. It is a large decision."
"Then what has Sol to offer?"
"A stable existence. The commerce of an entire system and the friendship of another world of similar type in almost every respect. The opportunity to partake in a veritable twinship between Ertene and Sol, with all the ramifications that such a brotherhood would offer."
"Ertene's existence is stable, Guy. Let us consider that point first."
"How can any wandering program be considered stable?"
"We are born, we live, and we die. Whether we are fated to spend our lives on a nomad planet or ultimately become the very center of the universe about which everything revolves, making Ertene the most stable planet of them all, Ertinians will continue living. When nomadism includes the entire resources of a planet, it can not be instable."
"Granted. But do you hope to go on forever?"
"How old is your history, Guy?"
"From the earliest of established dates, taken from the stones of Assyria and the artifacts of Maya, some seven thousand years."
Charalas added a lengthy discussion setting the length of a Terran year.
"Ertinian history is perhaps a bit longer," said Terokar. "And so who can say 'forever'?"
"No comment," said Guy with a slight laugh. "But my statements concerning stability are not to be construed as the same type of instability suffered by an itinerant human. He has no roots, and few friends, and he gains nothing nor does he offer anything to society. No, I am wrong. It is the same thing. Ertene goes on through the eons of wandering. She has no friends and no roots and while she may gain experience and knowledge of the universe just as the tramp will, her ultimate gain is poor and her offering to civilization is zero."
"I dispute that. Ertene's life has become better for the experience she has gained and the knowledge, too."
"Perhaps. But her offering to civilization?"
"We are not a dead world. Perhaps some day we may be able to offer the storehouses of our knowledge to some system that will need it. Perhaps we are destined to become the nucleus of a great, galactic civilization."
"Such a civilization will never work as long as men are restrained as to speed of transportation. Could any pact be sustained between planets a hundred light-years apart? Indeed, could any pact be agreed upon?"
"I cannot answer that save to agree. However, somewhere there may be some means of faster-than-light travel and communication. If this is found, galactic-wide civilization will not only be possible but a definite expectation."
"You realize that you are asking for Ertene a destiny that sounds definitely egotistic?"
"And why not? Are you not sold on the fact that Terra is the best planet in the Solar System?"
"Naturally."
"Also," smiled Charalas, "the Martians admit that Mars is the best planet."
"Granted then that Ertene is stable. Even granting for the moment that Ertene is someday to become the nucleus of the galaxy. I still claim that Ertene is missing one item." Guy waited for a moment and then added: "Ertene is missing the contact and commerce with other races. Ertene is self-sufficient and as such is stagnant as far as new life goes. Life on Ertene has reached the ultimate—for Ertene. Similarly, life on Terra had reached that point prior to the opening of space. Life must struggle against something, and when the struggle is no longer possible—when all possible obstruction has been circumvented—then life decays."
"You see us as decadent?"
"Not yet. The visiting of system after system has kept you from total decadence. It is but a stasis, however. Unless one has the samples of right and wrong from which to choose, how may he know his own course?"
"Of what difference is it?" asked the councilor named Baranon. "If there is no dissenting voice, if life thrives, if knowledge and science advance, what difference does it make whether we live under one social order or any other? If thievery and wrongdoing, for instance, could support a system of social importance, and the entire population lives under that code and thrives, of what necessity is it to change?"
"Any social order will pyramid," said Guy. "Either up or down."
"Granted. But if all are prepared to withstand the ravages of their neighbors, and are eternally prepared to live under constant strife, no man will have his rights trod upon."
"But what good is this eternal wandering? This everlasting eye upon the constantly receding horizon? This never ending search for the proper place to stop in order that this theoretical galactic civilization may start? At Ertene's state of progress, one place will be as good as any other," said Guy.
"Precisely, except that some places are definitely less desirable. Recall, Guy, that Ertene needs nothing."
"I dispute that. Ertene needs the contact with the outside worlds."
"No."
"You are in the position of a recluse who loves his seclusion."
"Certainly."
"Then you are in no position to appreciate any other form of social order."
"We care for no other social order."
"I mentioned to Charalas that in my eyes, you are wrong. That I am being asked to prescribe for a patient who will not die for lack of my prescription. I can not even say that the patient will benefit directly. My belief is as good as yours. I believe that Ertene is suffering because of her seclusion and that her peoples will advance more swiftly with commerce between the planets—and once again in interstellar space, Ertene will have no planets with which to conduct trade."
"And Sol, like complex society, will never miss the recluse. Let the hermit live in his cave, he is neither hindering nor helping civilization."
"Indirectly, the hermit hinders. He excites curiosity and the wonder if a hermit's existence might not be desirable and thus diverts other thinkers to seclusion."
"But if the hermit withdraws alone and unnoticed, no one will know of the hermitage, and then no one will wonder."
"But I know, and though no one else in the Solar System knows, I am trying to bring you into our society. I have the desire of brotherhood, the gregarious instinct that wants to be friend with all men. It annoys me—as it annoys all men—to see one of us alone and unloved by his fellows. I have a burning desire to have Ertene as a twin world with Terra."
"But Ertene likes her itinerant existence. The fires that burn beyond the horizon are interesting. Also," smiled Terokar, "the grass is greener over there."
"One day you will come to the end of the block," said Guy, "and find that the grass is no greener anywhere, with the exception that you now have no more grass to look at, plus the sorry fact that you cannot return. A million galactic years from now, Ertene will have passed through the galaxy and will find herself looking at intergalactic space. Then what?"
"Then our children will learn to live in a starless sky for a hundred thousand generations. Solarians live in a sky of constant placement; Ertene's sky is ever changing and all sky maps are obsolete in thirty or forty years. You must remember that to us, wandering is the normal way of life. Some of us believe that we may eventually return to our parent sun. We may. But all of us believe that we would find our parent sun no more interesting than others. No Guy, I doubt that we will stop there either."
"You are assuming that you will not remain at Sol?"
"We are a shy planet. We do not like to change our way of life. You are asking us to give up our life and to accept yours. It is similar to a man asking a woman to marry. But a woman is not completely reversed in her life when she marries. Here you are asking us to cleave unto you forever—and there is no bond of love to soften the hard spots."
"I did mention the bond of brotherhood," said Guy.
"Brotherhood with what?" asked Terokar. "You ask us to enter a bond of twinship with a planet that is the center of strife. You ask us in the name of similarity to join you—and help you gain mastery over the Solar System."
"And why not?"
"Which of you is right? Is the Terran combine more righteous than the Martian alliance?"
"Certainly."
"Why?"
Guy asked for a moment to think. The room was silent for a moment and then he said, slowly and painfully: "I can think of no other reason than the trite and no-answer reason: 'We're right because we're right!' The Martian combine fights us to gain the land and the commerce that we have taken because of superiority in space."
"A superiority given merely because of sheer size," said Baranon. "The Martians, raised under a gravity of less than one third of Terra's find it difficult to keep pace with the Terrans, who can live under three times as much acceleration. Battle under such conditions is unfair, and the fact that the Martians have been able to survive indicates that their code is not entirely wrong."
Charalas nodded. "Any code that is entirely in error will not be able to survive."
"So," said Terokar, "you ask us to join your belligerent system. You ask us to emerge from our pleasure and join you in a struggle for existence. You ask that we give up the peace that has survived for a thousand years, and in doing so you ask that we come willingly and permit our cities to be war-scarred and our men killed. You ask that we join in battle against a smaller, less adapted race that still is able to survive in spite of its ill-adaption to the rigors of space."
Guy was silent.
"Is that the way of life? Must we fight for our life? Strife is deplorable, Guy Maynard, and I am saying that to you, who come of a planet steeped in strife. You wear a uniform—or did—that is dedicated to the job of doing a better job of fighting than the enemy. Continual warlike activity has no place on Ertene.
"Plus one other thing, Guy Maynard. You are honorable and your intent is clear. But your fellows are none too like you. Ertene would become the playground of the Solar System. There would be continual battles over Ertene, and Ertene with her inexperience in warfare would be forced to accept the protection of Terra. That protection would break down into the same sort of protection that is offered the Plutonians by a handful of Terrans. In exchange for 'protection' against enemies that would possibly be no better or worse, the Plutonians are stripped of their metal. They are not accorded the privilege of schooling because they are too ignorant to enter even the most elementary of schools. Besides, schooling would make them aware of their position and they might rebel against the system that robs them of their substance under the name of 'protection.' Protection? May the Highest Law protect me from my protectors!" Terokar's lips curled slightly. "Am I not correct? Have not the Plutonians the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness? It would be a heavy blow to Terra if the third planet were forced to pay value for the substance that comes from Pluto."
"After all," said Guy, "if Terra hadn't got there first, Mars would be doing the same thing."
"Granted," said Baranon. "Absolutely correct. But two wrongs do not make a right. Terra is no worse than Mars. But that does not excuse either of them. They are both wrong!"
"Are you asking Terra to change its way of life?" demanded Guy.
"You are asking Ertene to change. We have the same privilege."
"Obviously in a system such as ours a completely altruistic society would be wiped out."
"Obviously," said Baranon.
"Then—"
"Then Ertene will change its way of life—providing Terra changes hers."
"Mars—"
"Mars will have to change hers, too. Can you not live in harmony?"
"Knowing what the Martians did to me—can you expect me to greet one of them with open arms?"
"Knowing what you have done to them, I wouldn't expect either one of you to change your greetings. No, Guy, I fear that Ertene will continue on her path until such a time as we meet a system that is less belligerent and more adapted to our way of life."
"Then I have failed?"
"Do not feel badly. You have failed, but you were fighting a huge, overwhelming force. You fought the inheritance of a hundred generations of wanderers. You fought the will of an integrated people who deplore strife. You fought the desire of everyone on Ertene, and since no Ertinian could change Solar society, we cannot expect a Terran to change Ertinian ideals. You failed, but it is no disgrace to fail against such an overwhelming defense."
Guy smiled weakly. "I presume that I was fighting against a determined front?"
"You were trying to do the most difficult job of all. In order to have succeeded, you would first have had to unsell us on our firm convictions, and then sell us the desirability of yours. A double job, both uphill."
"Then I am to consider the matter closed?"
"Yes. We have decided not to remain."
"You decided that before I came in," said Guy bitterly.
"We decided that a thousand years before you were born, so do not feel bitter."
"I presume that a change in your plans is out of the question even though further information on Sol's planets proves you wrong?"
"It will never be brought up again."
"I see," said Guy unhappily. "Part of my desire to convince you was the hope of seeing my home again."
"Oh, but you will," said Charalas.
Guy was dumfounded. He could hardly believe his ears. He asked for a repeat, and got it. It was still amazing. To Guy, it was outright foolishness. He wouldn't have trusted anyone with such a secret. To permit him to return to Terra with the knowledge he had—
"Charalas, what would prevent me from bringing my people to Ertene? I could bring the forces of Terra down about your very ears."
"But you will not. We have a strict, value-even trade to offer you."
"But it would be so easy to keep me here."
"We could not restrain you without force. And if we must rely upon your honor, we'd be equally reliant whether you be here or on Terra."
"Here," said Guy dryly, "I'd be away from temptation. If I were tempted to tell, there'd be no one to tell it to."
"We must comply with an ancient rule," explained Terokar. "It says specifically that no man without Ertinian blood may remain on Ertene. It was made to keep the race pure when we were still about our parent sun and has never been revoked. We wouldn't revoke it for you alone."
"But permitting me to go free would be sheer madness."
"Not quite. We are mutually indebted to one another, Guy. There is the matter of knowledge. You gave freely of yours, we gave you ours. We have gained some points that were missing in our science, you have a number of points that will make you rich, famous, and remembered. Use them as your own, only do it logically in order that they seem to be discoveries of your own. You admit the worth of them?"
"Oh, but yes," said Guy eagerly. "Wonderful—"
"Then there is no debt for knowledge?"
"If any, I am in your debt."
"We'll call it even," said Baranon, dryly.
"Then there is the matter of life," said Terokar. "You know how you were found?"
Guy shook his head in wonder. "I had been through the Martian idea of how to get information out of a reluctant man," he said slowly. "I know that their methods result in a terrible mindless state which to my own belief is worse than death itself. I know that as I lost consciousness, I prayed for death to come, even though I knew that they would not permit it."
"We found you that way. You know. And we brought you back to life. You owe us that."
"Indeed I do."
"Then for your life, we demand our life in return."
"I do not understand."
"Your life is yours. We ask that you say nothing of us—for we feel that we will die if we are found. At least, the integrity of Ertene is at stake. In any event, we will not be taken, you may as well know that. And when I say die, I mean that Ertene will not go on living in the way we want her to live. Therefore you will disclose nothing that will point our way to anyone."
"And you are willing that I should return to Terra with such an oath? What of my oath to Terra?"
"Do you feel that your presence on Ertene will benefit Terra in some small way?" asked Charalas.
"Now that you have given me the things we spoke of before, I do."
"Then," said Charalas, "consider this point. You may not return unless you swear to keep us secret. You may not give Terra the benefit of your knowledge unless you deprive them of Ertene. Is that clear?"
"If I may not return to Terra, and may not remain on Ertene, I can guess the other alternative and will admit that I do not like it. On the returning angle, about all I can do is to justify myself in my own mind that I have done all that I can by bringing these scientific items back with me. Since doing the best I can for Terra includes keeping your secret, I can do that also. But tell me, how do you hope to cover the fact that I've been missing for almost a year? That will take more than mere explanation."
"The process is easy," said Charalas. "We have one of the lifeships from the derelict. It was slightly damaged in the blast. It is maneuverable, but unwieldy. Evidence has been painstakingly forged. Apparently you will have broken your straps under the shock of the blast—and before the torture reached its height—and you found yourself in a derelict with no one left alive but yourself. You were hurt, mentally, and didn't grasp the situation clearly. There was no way to signal your plight in secrecy, and open signaling would have been dangerous since you were too close to Mars.
"You found the lifeship and waited until you could safely take off. The derelict took a crazy course, according to the recorded log in your own handwriting, and headed for interstellar space. You took off at the safe time and have been floating free in the damaged lifeship. You've been on a free orbit for the best part of a year."
"Sounds convincing enough."
"The evidence includes empty air cans, your own fingerprints on everything imaginable, a dulled can opener and the remnants of can labels that have fallen into nooks and crannies of the ship. The water-recovery device has been under constant operation and examination will show about a year's accumulation of residual matter. A scratch-mark calendar has been kept on the wall of the lifeship, and daily it has been added to. That is important since the wall will show more oxidation in the scratches made a year ago than the ones made recently. The accumulators of the ship have been run down as if in service while you were forcing the little ship into its orbit, and the demand recorder shows how the drain was used. The lights in the ship have been burned, and the deposits of fluorescent material in the tubes have been used about the calculated number of hours. Books have been nearly worn out from re-reading and they were used with fingerprint gloves though they were studied by us. Instruments and gadgets are strewn about the ship in profusion, indicating the attempts of an intelligent man trying to kill time. Also you will find the initial findings on the energy collector we used in conjunction with the light-shield.
"Now, yourself. Into your body we will inject the hormones that occur with fear and worry. You will not enjoy a bit of atmosphobia, but believe us, it is necessary. You will have the appearance and attitude of a man who has been in space alone for a year, and luckily for you, you are a spaceman and inured to the rigors of space travel so that it will not be necessary to really give you the works in order to make you seem natural.
"As a final touch, both for our safety and yours, we will inject in your body a substance far superior to your anti-lamine. This is not destroyed by electrolysis, but only by a substance made from the original base. This will protect you against any attempt to make you talk. As long as it is your will, consciously or subconsciously, our secret will be kept. Is there anything we may have overlooked?"
"One thing. The space tan."
"That you will get before you leave."
"Then that sounds like the works."
"It is. Guy Maynard, we wish you the best of luck. We are all sorry that you must leave, but it is best that way. Sooner or later you would become homesick for the things you knew on Terra. Ertene will not last in your memory, we have been careful not to let you indulge in anything that will leave memories either pleasant or unpleasant, and forgetting is easy when the subject was uneventful. Farewell, Guy Maynard."
"Good-bye. And if you ever decide whether your way is at all questionable, have someone look me up. I'll be around Sol."
Terokar laughed. "And if you find that Sol changes her way of living, you may see if you can find us!"
Charalas smiled: "No need. They will not. This is farewell forever, Guy. Good luck."
It was little more than an hour later that Guy Maynard, inoculated with all kinds of shots, was lifted into the sky in a heavy spaceship and on the way for a predetermined section of the Solar sky.
They left him, a couple of weeks later.
And Guy Maynard was headed for Terra in a broken lifeship saved from the derelict of the Mardinex. He thought of Ertene briefly, and then put the thought from him. He would never see Ertene again.
But the things he had in his mind would make Ertene's influence everlasting over an unknown Terra. That alone made the contact worth while.
Guy Maynard stumbled upon another thought. He had accused them of going on forever like an itinerant, taking nothing and giving nothing and living sterile as far as their good toward civilization. He was wrong, and now he knew it. Ertene did not go on her lonely path. She had strewn the fruits of experience in Sol's path as best she could and still maintain safety for herself. It was reasonable to suppose that Ertene had done the same things for those other systems.
Hers was not a useless existence. Ertene was doing as much for civilization as Terra, surely.
And though he would never see Ertene again, his own personal gain from having been to Ertene would cause him to remember the wanderer. And even though Terra would never know of Ertene's existence, she would benefit from their experience.
Ertene—completely altruistic.
Or was she completely selfish?
Terra would never know.