Page 28 of Deathworld


  XXVIII.

  "What do we do now?" Meta asked. Her voice was troubled, questioning.She voiced the thoughts of all the Pyrrans in the room, and thethousands who watched in their screens.

  "What will we do?" They turned to Jason, waiting for an answer. For themoment their differences were forgotten. The people from the city werestaring expectantly at him, as were the crossbowmen with half-loweredweapons. This stranger had confused and changed the old world they hadknown, and presented them with a newer and stranger one, with alienproblems.

  "Hold on," he said, raising his hand. "I'm no doctor of social ills. I'mnot going to try and cure this planet full of muscle-boundsharpshooters. I've just squeezed through up to now, and by the law ofaverages I should be ten times dead."

  "Even if all you say is true, Jason," Meta said, "you are still the onlyperson who can help us. What will the future be like?"

  Suddenly weary, Jason slumped into the pilot's chair. He glanced aroundat the circle of people. They seemed sincere. None of them even appearedto have noticed that he no longer had his hand on the pump switch. Forthe moment at least, the war between city and farm was forgotten.

  "I'll give you my conclusions," Jason said, twisting in the chair,trying to find a comfortable position for his aching bones. "I've beendoing a lot of thinking the last day or two, searching for the answer.The very first thing I realized, was that the perfect and logicalsolution wouldn't do at all. I'm afraid the old ideal of the lion lyingdown with the lamb doesn't work out in practice. About all it does ismake a fast lunch for the lion. Ideally, now that you all know the realcauses of your trouble, you should tear down the perimeter and have thecity and forest people mingle in brotherly love. Makes just as pretty apicture as the one of lion and lamb. And would undoubtedly have the sameresult. Someone would remember how really filthy the grubbers are, orhow stupid junkmen can be, and there would be a fresh corpse cooling.The fight would spread and the victors would be eaten by the wildlifethat swarmed over the undefended perimeter. No, the answer isn't thateasy."

  As the Pyrrans listened to him they realized where they were, andglanced around uneasily. The guards raised their crossbows again, andthe prisoners stepped back to the wall and looked surly.

  "See what I mean?" Jason asked. "Didn't take long did it?" They alllooked a little sheepish at their unthinking reactions.

  "If we're going to find a decent plan for the future, we'll have totake inertia into consideration. Mental inertia for one. Just becauseyou know a thing is true in theory, doesn't make it true in fact. Thebarbaric religions of primitive worlds hold not a germ of scientificfact, though they claim to explain all. Yet if one of these savages hasall the logical ground for his beliefs taken away--he doesn't stopbelieving. He then calls his mistaken beliefs 'faith' because he knowsthey are right. And he knows they are right because he has faith. Thisis an unbreakable circle of false logic that can't be touched. Inreality, it is plain mental inertia. A case of thinking 'what alwayswas' will also 'always be.' And not wanting to blast the thinkingpatterns out of the old rut.

  "Mental inertia alone is not going to cause trouble--there is culturalinertia, too. Some of you in this room believe my conclusions and wouldlike to change. But will all your people change? The unthinking ones,the habit-ridden, reflex-formed people who _know_ what is now, willalways be. They'll act like a drag on whatever plans you make, whateverattempts you undertake to progress with the new knowledge you have."

  "Then it's useless--there's no hope for our world?" Rhes asked.

  * * * * *

  "I didn't say that," Jason answered. "I merely mean that your troubleswon't end by throwing some kind of mental switch. I see three coursesopen for the future, and the chances are that all three will be going onat the same time.

  "First--and best--will be the rejoining of city and farm Pyrrans intothe single human group they came from. Each is incomplete now, and hassomething the other one needs. In the city here you have science andcontact with the rest of the galaxy. You also have a deadly war. Outthere in the jungle, your first cousins live at peace with the world,but lack medicine and the other benefits of scientific knowledge, aswell as any kind of cultural contact with the rest of mankind. You'llboth have to join together and benefit from the exchange. At the sametime you'll have to forget the superstitious hatred you have of eachother. This will only be done outside of the city, away from the war.Every one of you who is capable should go out voluntarily, bringing somefraction of the knowledge that needs sharing. You won't be harmed if yougo in good faith. And you will learn how to live _with_ this planet,rather than against it. Eventually you'll have civilized communitiesthat won't be either 'grubber' or 'junkman.' They'll be Pyrran."

  "But what about our city here?" Kerk asked.

  "It'll stay right here--and probably won't change in the slightest. Inthe beginning you'll need your perimeter and defenses to stay alive,while the people are leaving. And after that it will keep going becausethere are going to be any number of people here who you won't convince.They'll stay and fight and eventually die. Perhaps you will be able todo a better job in educating their children. What the eventual end ofthe city will be, I have no idea."

  They were silent as they thought about the future. On the floor Skopgroaned but did not move. "Those are two ways," Meta said. "What is thethird?"

  "The third possibility is my own pet scheme," Jason smiled. "And I hopeI can find enough people to go along with me. I'm going to take my moneyand spend it all on outfitting the best and most modern spacer, withevery weapon and piece of scientific equipment I can get my hands on.Then I'm going to ask for Pyrran volunteers to go with me."

  "What in the world for?" Meta frowned.

  "Not for charity, I expect to make my investment back, and more. Yousee, after these past few months, I can't possibly return to my oldoccupation. Not only do I have enough money now to make it a waste oftime, but I think it would be an unending bore. One thing aboutPyrrus--if you live--is that it spoils you for the quieter places. SoI'd like to take this ship that I mentioned and go into the business ofopening up new worlds. There are thousands of planets where men wouldlike to settle, only getting a foothold on them is too rough or ruggedfor the usual settlers. Can you imagine a planet a Pyrran couldn't lickafter the training you've had here? And enjoy doing it?

  "There would be more than pleasure involved, though. In the city yourlives have been geared for continual deadly warfare. Now you're facedwith the choice of a fairly peaceful future, or staying in the city tofight an unnecessary and foolish war. I offer the third alternative ofthe occupation you know best, that would let you accomplish somethingconstructive at the same time.

  "Those are the choices. Whatever you decide is up to each of youpersonally."

  * * * * *

  Before anyone could answer, livid pain circled Jason's throat. Skop hadregained consciousness and surged up from the floor. He pulled Jasonfrom the chair with a single motion, holding him by the neck, throttlinghim.

  "Kerk! Meta!" Skop shouted hoarsely. "Grab guns! Open the locks--ourpeople'll be here, kill the grubbers and their lies!"

  Jason tore at the fingers that were choking the life out of him, but itwas like pulling at bent steel bars. He couldn't talk and the bloodhammered in his ears.

  Meta hurtled forward like an uncoiled spring and the crossbows twanged.One bolt caught her in the leg, the other transfixed her upper arm. Butshe had been shot as she jumped and her inertia carried her across theroom, to her fellow Pyrran and the dying off-worlder.

  She raised her good arm and chopped down with the edge of her hand.

  It caught Skop a hard blow on the biceps and his arm jumpedspasmodically, his hand leaping from Jason's throat.

  "What are you doing?" he shouted in strange terror to the wounded girlwho fell against him. He pushed her away, still clutching Jason with hisother hand. She didn't answer. Instead she chopped again, hard and true,the edge of her hand catc
hing Skop across the windpipe, crushing it. Hedropped Jason and fell to the floor, retching and gasping.

  Jason watched the end through a haze, barely conscious.

  Skop struggled to his feet, turned pain-filled eyes to his friends.

  "You're wrong," Kerk said. "Don't do it."

  The sound the wounded man made was more animal than human. When he divedtowards the guns on the far side of the room the crossbows twanged likeharps of death.

  When Brucco went over to help Meta no one interfered. Jason gasped airback into his lungs, breathing in life. The watching glass eye of theviewer carried the scene to everyone in the city.

  "Thanks, Meta ... for understanding ... as well as helping." Jason hadto force the words out.

  "Skop was wrong and you were right, Jason," she said. Her voice brokefor a second as Brucco snapped off the feathered end of the steel boltwith his fingers, and pulled the shaft out of her arm. "I can't stay inthe city, only people who feel as Skop did will be able to do that. AndI'm afraid I can't go into the forest--you saw what luck I had with thestingwing. If it's all right I'd like to come with you. I'd like to verymuch."

  It hurt when he talked so Jason could only smile, but she knew what hemeant.

  Kerk looked down in unhappiness at the body of the dead man. "He waswrong--but I know how he felt. I can't leave the city, not yet. Someonewill have to keep things in hand while the changes are taking place.Your ship is a good idea, Jason, you'll have no shortage of volunteers.Though I doubt if you'll get Brucco to go with you."

  "Of course not," Brucco snapped, not looking up from the compressionbandage he was tying. "There's enough to do right here on Pyrrus. Theanimal life, quite a study to be made, probably have every ecologist inthe galaxy visiting here."

  Kerk walked slowly to the screen overlooking the city. No one attemptedto stop him. He looked out at the buildings, the smoke still curling upfrom the perimeter, and the limitless sweep of green jungle beyond.

  "You've changed it all, Jason," he said. "We can't see it now, butPyrrus will never be the way it was before you came. For better orworse."

  "Better," Jason croaked, and rubbed his aching throat. "Now get togetherand end this war so people will really believe it."

  Rhes turned and after an instant's hesitation, extended his hand toKerk. The gray-haired Pyrran felt the same repugnance himself abouttouching a grubber.

  They shook hands then because they were both strong men.

  THE END

  Transcriber's Note:

  This etext was produced from _Astounding Science Fiction_ January, February and March 1960. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note. Subscript text appears within {braces}.

 
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