Inside John Barth
Page 3
all a perfectly logical proposition from their point ofview--which differed in quite a number of respects from my own. To themit was simply a matter of survival for their race and their culture. Tome it was a matter of who or what I was going to be. But then, I had nochoice.
According to the Official History I was given, they came from a tinyplanet of a small sun. Actually, their sun was itself a planet, stillincandescent, distant perhaps like Jupiter from the true sun. Theirplanet or moon was tiny, wet and warm. And the temperature wasconstant.
These conditions, naturally, governed their development--and,eventually, mine.
Of course they were very small, about the size of a dysentery amoeba.The individual life span was short as compared to ours but theaccelerated pace of their lives balanced it out. In the beginning,something like four of our days was a lifetime. So they lived, grew,developed, evolved. They learned to communicate. They becamecivilized--far more so than we have, according to them. And I guessthat was true. They were even able to extend their life span tosomething like two months.
"And to what," I inquired--but without much fire, I'm afraid; I waslosing fight--"to what am I indebted for this intrusion?"
"Necessity."
It was, to them. Their sun had begun to cool. It was their evictionnotice.
They had to move or adapt themselves to immeasurably harsherconditions; and they had become so highly developed, so specialized,that change of that sort would have been difficult if not impossible.And they didn't want to change, anyway. They liked themselves as theywere.
The only other thing was to escape. They had to work for flight throughspace. And they succeeded.
There were planets nearer to them than Earth. But these were enormousworlds to them, and the conditions were intolerably harsh. They foundone planet with conditions much like those on Earth a few million yearsback. It was a jungle world, dominated by giant reptiles--which were ofno use to the folk. But there were a few, small, struggling,warm-blooded animals. Small to us, that is--they were county size tothe folk.
Some genius had a great inspiration. While the environment of theplanet itself was impossibly harsh and hostile, the conditions _inside_these warm little animals were highly suitable!
It seemed to be the solution to their problem of survival. Small, trialcolonies were established. Communication with the space ships from homewas achieved.
The experiment was a success.
The trouble was that each colony's existence depended on the life ofthe host. When the animal died, the colony died.
Life on the planet was savage. New colonies would, of course, be passedfrom individual to individual and generation to generation of the hostspecies. But the inevitable toll of attrition from the violent deathsof the animals appalled this gentle race. And there was nothing theycould do about it. They could give protection against disease, but theycould not control the hosts. Their scientists figured that, if theycould find a form of life having conscious power of reason, they wouldbe able to establish communication and a measure of control. But it wasnot possible where only instinct existed.
They went ahead because they had no choice. Their only chance was toestablish their colonies, accepting the certainty of the slaughter ofhundreds upon hundreds of entire communities--and hoping that, withtheir help, evolution on the planet would eventually produce a betterhost organism. Even of this they were by no means sure. It was a hope.For all they could know, the struggling mammalian life might well bedoomed to extermination by the giant reptiles.
They took the gamble. Hundreds of colonies were planted.
They did it but they weren't satisfied with it. So, back on the dyinghome moon, survivors continued to work. Before the end came they madeone more desperate bid for race survival.
They built interstellar ships to be launched on possibly endlessjourneys into space. A nucleus of select individuals in a spore-likeform of suspended animation was placed on each ship. Ships werelaunched in pairs, with automatic controls to be activated when theyentered into the radius of attraction of a sun. Should the sun haveplanets such as their own home world--or Earth type--the ships would beguided there. In the case of an Earth type planet having intelligentlife, they would----
They would do just what my damned "meteor" had done.
They would home in on an individual, "explode," penetrate--and set upheavy housekeeping on a permanent basis. They did. Lovely. Oh, joy!
Well. We would all like to see the Garden of Eden; but being it issomething quite else again.
Me, a colony!
My--uh--population had no idea where they were in relation to theiroriginal home, or how long they had traveled through space. They didhope that someplace on Earth their companion ship had establishedanother settlement. But they didn't know. So far on our world, with itsmasses of powerful electrical impulses, plus those of our own brains,they had found distance communication impossible.
"Well, look, fellows," I said. "Look here now. This is a noble,inspiring story. The heroic struggle of your--uh--people to survive,overcoming all odds and stuff, it's wonderful! And I admire you for it,indeed I do. But--what about me?"
"You, Great Land of Barth, are our beloved home and fatherland formany, many generations to come. You are the mighty base from which wecan spread over this enormous planet."
"That's you. What I mean is, what about _me_?"
"Oh? But there is no conflict. Your interests are our interests."
That was how they looked at it. Sincerely. As they said, they weren'truthless conquerors. They only wanted to get along.
And all they wanted for me were such fine things as good health, longlife, contentment. Contentment, sure. Continued irritation--a sourdisposition resulting in excess flow of bile--did not provide just thesort of environment in which they cared to bring up the kiddies.Smoking? No. It wasn't healthy. Alcohol? Well, they were willing todeclare a national holiday now and then. Within reason.
Which, as I already knew, meant two to four shots once or twice a week.
Sex? Themselves, they didn't have any. "But," they told me with anattitude of broad tolerance, "we want to be fair. We will not interferewith you in this matter--other than to assist you in the use of soundjudgment in the selection of a partner."
_But_ I shouldn't feel that any of this was in any way real restrictive.It was merely practical common sense.
For observing it I would get their valuable advice and assistance inall phases of my life. I would enjoy--or have, anyway--perfect health.My life, if that's what it was, would be extended by better than 100years. "You are fortunate," they pointed out, a little smugly Ithought, "that we, unlike your race, are conservationists in the truestsense. Far from despoiling our homeland and laying waste its resourcesand natural scenic wonders, we will improve it."
I had to be careful because, as they explained it, even a small nickwith a razor might wipe out an entire suburban family.
"But fellows! I want to live my own life."
"Come now. Please remember that you are not alone now."
"Aw, fellows. Look, I'll get a dog, lots of dogs--fine purebreds, notmongrels like me. The finest. I'll pamper them. They'll live likekings.... Wouldn't you consider moving?"
"Out of the question."
"An elephant then? Think of the space, the room for the kids toplay----"
"Never."
"Damn it! Take me to--no, I mean let me talk to your leader."
That got me no place. It seemed I was already talking to their highestgovernment councils. All of my suggestions were considered, debated,voted on--and rejected.
They were democratic, they said. They counted my vote in favor; butthat was just one vote. Rather a small minority.
As I suppose I should have figured, my thoughts were coming throughover a period that was, to them, equal to weeks. They recorded them,accelerated them, broadcast them all around, held elections andrecorded replies to be played back to me at my own slow tempo by thetime I had a new thought ready. No, they wouldn't take time
to let mecount the votes. And there is where you might say I lost my selfcontrol.
"Damn it!" I said. Or shouted. "I won't have it! I won't put up withit. I'll--uh--I'll get us all dead drunk. I'll take dope! I'll go outand get a shot of penicillin and--"
I didn't do a damned thing. I couldn't.
Their control of my actions was just as complete as they wanted to makeit. While they didn't exercise it all the time, they made the rules.According to them, they could have controlled my thoughts too if theyhad wanted to. They didn't because they felt that wouldn't bedemocratic. Actually, I suppose they were pretty fair andreasonable--from their point of view. Certainly it could have been alot worse.
III
I wasn't as bad off as old Faust and his deal with the devil. My soulwas still my own. But my body was community