FAIR AND WARMER
by
E. G. VON WALD
Illustrated by Paul Orban
[Sidenote: _Tensor's melancholia threatened to disturb the entirecitizenry, and that was most uncivil! So--if these peculiar alienscaused him this distress, by provoking his intellectual curiosity, theremedy was for him to investigate them to his complete satisfaction....Thus, in this manner, did Tensor get well--and did he learn a bittoo...._]
Tensor gazed helplessly at the fine mist sifting down from a hazy,violet sky. "I told you I was having these spells."
"But Great Oxy," the administrator sputtered, "can't you controlyourself?"
"I can't help it, Ruut," Tensor replied. "I just feel sort of funnyand--and--"
Ruut's hyperimage was chewing on its illusory lip. "Well, you've got tostop it. Do you understand? There'll be a lot of lichens and thingsgrowing all over the Prime's beautiful landscapes if this keeps up."
The administrator's concern amused Tensor and, as his mood lightened,the drizzle abated and the sky became clear again.
"I'm sorry," he apologized sincerely. "But I just seem to be havingtrouble lately. Ever since the aliens came."
"Oh, come now, son," Ruut chortled with assumed heartiness. "That'selementary somatics. Just get a grip on yourself."
"Yes sir."
"Perhaps you've been working, or exerting yourself in some other foolishway. Maybe you're tired and should take something."
The long, scrawny citizen gazed disconsolately at the beautitful violetsky, his face relaxed and soleful. He sighed and murmured, "Frankly,Ruut, I just don't seem to give a damn anymore."
On the other side of the planet, Ruut gulped convulsively. His eyesbulged out with thoroughly uncivilized amazement.
"Get out of consciousness immediately," he ordered hoarsely. "Take anego shot, if necessary. Take one anyway. We can't take chances." Theadministrator's hyperimage, with calculated angry expression, glaredsternly into Tensor's mind. "Did you understand me?"
"Yes sir," Tensor murmured. A vague unpleasantness began stirring in hisstomach as he contemplated Ruut's thought. The administrator wasabsolutely right. Civilization simply could not tolerate an unhappy,uncooperative citizen. The general satisfaction of all was so clearlythe responsibility of each individual, and one careless man could ruinit for everybody. Very much as he had been doing.
Obediently he nodded. Concealing his embarrassment at the artificialityof the act, he permitted the hyperimage to watch while he administeredthe chemical.
"Good." Ruut became calm at once, now that he was certain he couldcommand the situation. "I'll have the physician examine you before thatwears off." He hesitated and said even more mildly. "I hope this is justa passing thing, Tensor. You know I'll do everything I can for you, eventeleporting to your focus. But you're a weather sensitive, and that's apretty common classification. And you know the Council."
Tensor indicated lazy assent. As the drug took hold, he slippedsoothingly into unconsciousness, and the hyperimage flickered andvanished with his powers. His last emotion was one of a vague reliefthat he would not have to look at the low caste face of an administratorfor a while.
* * * * *
He floated in his focus, idly and uninterestedly contemplating the deepviolet far above. A few minutes before, he had been stirred to anelusive and incomprehensible wistfulness which had been, in some way,connected with the aliens. While waiting for the physician, he ponderedthe brief glimpse he had got of them before the Council clampeddown its screen and privacy orders. Now, under the emotionlesspseudoconsciousness of the nego, it seemed strange that he could havebeen interested in those futile and primitive beings. Practicallynothing was known about them, because they could not communicate.
Tensor studied the question briefly. There was no answer available inthe paucity of information, so he dismissed it without further interest.Insufficient data. Therefore, insoluble problem. Therefore, forget aboutit.
He continued to stare at the sky, unconsciously and vacantly waiting.
He felt the itch. It was a slight stimulation of his medulary region,indicating somebody's desire to communicate with him. That, however, wasimpossible at the moment. The only faculties of significance remainingin his neutral somatic state were those which were absolutely necessaryfor civilized life--levitation to avoid being disturbed by gravity, thefocus for personal privacy, the construction of food. Communication wasnot one of those, so the itch would just have to remain. Tensorcontemplated an eternity with the medulary itch without the slightestconcern.
Abruptly the itch stopped and Curl was there, looking exhausted, as wasthe polite fashion, since teleporting oneself was commonly regarded astiring.
"You've taken nego," the physician murmured aloud, half accusingly.
"Yes sir," Tensor replied, using similar sound patterns. "Ruut orderedme to."
"What in Oxy for?"
"He did not like my attitude."
The physician considered the information, and while he did so, Ruutpopped into existence beside him, a most uncivilized look of worry onhis face.
"How is he, Curl? What have you found out?"
"No need for excitement, my dear administrator," the physician repliedevenly, politely avoiding comment on Ruut's crude, low caste selfcontrol. "I just got here. Thanks to your order to the young man to fillhimself up with nego, he was unable to let me project a hyperimage."
"But the situation was dangerous. Did you examine him? Did he tell youwhat he said to me?"
Curl glanced at him, and then quickly sent probing thoughts at Tensor'smind and body. After a moment, he gave it up, shaking his head. "Thenego won't let him communicate at all. I'll have to order him toadminister an antidote to himself."
"No!" Ruut almost shouted. "It's dangerous." He rapidly gave an oral andsomewhat horrified account of his earlier communication with Tensor.
"All right," the physician grudgingly admitted. "I'll try to do itsuperficially. But it's difficult. It's awfully hard to know what'sgoing on in his body from just looking at it and listening to him talk."
He turned to Tensor. "How long have you been having these--er, spuriousmoods?"
"About six months."
"Are you having any other troubles?"
"No sir. It's just the simple things, like the weather, that seem to beaffected."
"I see. Melancholia." Curl frowned thoughtfully. "These moods comeunwillingly, is that it? And they don't go away entirely when you shiftyour endocrine balance?"
"I'm not so sure about that endocrine shift, sir," Tensor statedemotionlessly.
"You mean--" Curl stopped incredulously. He shook his head as hecomprehended. "Great Iso Oxys!"
"What is it?" Ruut asked in a hushed voice.
"This is deeper than I thought, Ruut. You did very well to put him undernego. The man can't control his endocrine system properly."
"Well do something," Ruut demanded. "Don't just float there."
"All I can do," Curl said, raising his voice exactly one decibel to showhis irritation, "is give advice. Obviously, in his condition, the mancan't follow it."
Ruut gazed unhappily at his friend. He was in authority over Tensor, andtherefore far inferior in native gifts. Now it seemed that Tensor wasregressing in some obscure way to his own level, a tragic anduncivilized situation.
"This has happened before," Curl admitted. "But I can't quite rememberwhen." He sighed resignedly. "I guess I'll have to teleport again.Somebody probably remembers."
He disappeared for a few minutes and returned again, face beamingdespite the fatigue.
"Oh yes," he said cheerfully. "Now I know."
Tensor stared at him with uninterested eyes.
"The man is dying," Curl
explained with satisfaction.
"Dying?" Ruut murmured incredulously. "But that's impossible unless theCouncil orders him to destroy himself. Why--why that would make him justlike an animal."
"That's what it is," Curl insisted.
Ordinarily, Tensor would have been somewhat interested to know aboutthis strange process that was taking place within his body, but the negokept his mind dull and unconcerned. He did not even question forreasons.
Ruut, however, did, and the physician happily explained. "You just