Astounding Science Fiction Stories Vol 1

by Anthology

  "You seem to have been lucky, though," said Peo. He was navigator of the Council ship, and had asked to accompany Tardo on the brief inspection trip. "You could have landed on a barren planet."

  "Well, no, the colonizers knew it was liveable, from the first exploration expedition," said Saranta. "There were difficulties, of course. Luxuriant vegetation, but no animal life, so we had no animals to domesticate. Pulling a plow is hard work for a man."

  "But you were able to solve this situation in a humanitarian way?" asked Tardo, peering at him keenly. "That is to say, you didn't resort to slavery?"

  Saranta smiled and spread his hands slightly.

  "Does this look like a slave society to you?" he countered. "The colonists were anxious to co-operate to make the planet liveable. No one objected to work."

  "It's true we've seen no slaves, that we know about," said Tardo. "But two days is a short time for inspection. I must draw most of my conclusions from the attitudes of you and the others who are our hosts. How about the servants here?"

  "They are paid," answered Saranta, and added ruefully: "There are those of us who think they are paid too well. They have a union, you know."

  Tardo laughed.

  "A carry-over from Earth, no doubt," he commented. "An unusual one, too, for a culture without technology."

  When the meal was over, the two men from the ship were conducted on a tour of the area. It was a neat agricultural community, with broad fields, well-constructed buildings and, a short distance from Saranta's castle-like home, a village in which artisans and craftsmen plied their peaceful trades.

  Peo tried to notice what he thought Tardo would look for on such a short inspection. The Council agent, he knew, had had intensive training and many years of experience. It was hard for Peo to judge what factors Tardo would consider significant--probably very minor ones that the average man would not notice, he thought.

  Tardo had seemed most intent on the question of slavery, and Peo looked for signs of it. He could see none. The people of the planet had had time to conceal some things, of course. But the people they saw in the village wore a proud air of independence no slave could assume.

  Saranta apologized for their having to walk, explaining that there was no other means of transportation on the planet.

  "And, without transportation, you can understand why we have not been able to develop a technology," he added. "We hope transport will be included in the first assistance you will give us."

  Tardo asked about the fields.

  "I see there is no one working them," he said. "Is that done by the villagers?"

  "Our labor supply is transient," answered Saranta after a moment's hesitation. "The laborers who will work our fields--for a wage, of course--are probably in the next town or the one beyond it now."

  Alpha Persei was sinking in the western sky when Tardo and Peo took their leave of Saranta and made their way down the road toward their planetary landing craft.

  "It looks like a good world to me," said Peo. "If tomorrow's inspection is as satisfactory, I suppose you will recommend the beginning of technical aid?"

  "There will be no inspection tour tomorrow, and I shall recommend against aid at this time," replied Tardo. "I've seen enough."

  "Why?" asked Peo, surprised.

  "There are two classes of people on this planet, and we've seen only one," said Tardo. "Those we have seen are freemen. The others are no better than animals. We give no aid that helps men tighten their hold over their fellows."

  "If you haven't seen them, how do you know there is another class?" demanded Peo. "There is no evidence of any such situation."

  "The evidence is well hidden. But if you think your stomach can take it now, I'll tell you. If you remember your history, colonizing ships 1000 years ago had no space to carry animals along. They had to depend on native animal life of the planet, and this planet had none."

  "Saranta said that. But I don't see ..."

  "Those were delicious steaks, weren't they?" remarked Tardo quietly.

  * * *

  Contents

  SERVICE WITH A SMILE

  By Charles L. Fontenay

  Herbert was truly a gentleman robot. The ladies' slightest wish was his command....

  Herbert bowed with a muted clank--indicating he probably needed oiling somewhere--and presented Alice with a perfect martini on a silver tray. He stood holding the tray, a white, permanent porcelain smile on his smooth metal face, as Alice sipped the drink and grimaced.

  "It's a good martini, Herbert," said Alice. "Thank you. But, dammit, I wish you didn't have that everlasting smile!"

  "I am very sorry, Miss Alice, but I am unable to alter myself in any way," replied Herbert in his polite, hollow voice.

  He retired to a corner and stood impassively, still holding the tray. Herbert had found a silver deposit and made the tray. Herbert had found sand and made the cocktail glass. Herbert had combined God knew what atmospheric and earth chemicals to make what tasted like gin and vermouth, and Herbert had frozen the ice to chill it.

  "Sometimes," said Thera wistfully, "it occurs to me it would be better to live in a mud hut with a real man than in a mansion with Herbert."

  The four women lolled comfortably in the living room of their spacious house, as luxurious as anything any of them would have known on distant Earth. The rugs were thick, the furniture was overstuffed, the paintings on the walls were aesthetic and inspiring, the shelves were filled with booktapes and musictapes.

  Herbert had done it all, except the booktapes and musictapes, which had been salvaged from the wrecked spaceship.

  "Do you suppose we'll ever escape from this best of all possible manless worlds?" asked Betsy, fluffing her thick black hair with her fingers and inspecting herself in a Herbert-made mirror.

  "I don't see how," answered blond Alice glumly. "That atmospheric trap would wreck any other ship just as it wrecked ours, and the same magnetic layer prevents any radio message from getting out. No, I'm afraid we're a colony."

  "A colony perpetuates itself," reminded sharp-faced Marguerite, acidly. "We aren't a colony, without men."

  They were not the prettiest four women in the universe, nor the youngest. The prettiest women and the youngest did not go to space. But they were young enough and healthy enough, or they could not have gone to space.

  It had been a year and a half now--an Earth year and a half on a nice little planet revolving around a nice little yellow sun. Herbert, the robot, was obedient and versatile and had provided them with a house, food, clothing, anything they wished created out of the raw elements of earth and air and water. But the bones of all the men who had been aspace with these four ladies lay mouldering in the wreckage of their spaceship.

  And Herbert could not create a man. Herbert did not have to have direct orders, and he had tried once to create a man when he had overheard them wishing for one. They had buried the corpse--perfect in every detail except that it never had been alive.

  "It's been a hot day," said Alice, fanning her brow. "I wish it would rain."

  Silently, Herbert moved from his corner and went out the door.

  Marguerite gestured after him with a bitter little laugh.

  "It'll rain this afternoon," she said. "I don't know how Herbert does it--maybe with silver iodide. But it'll rain. Wouldn't it have been simpler to get him to air-condition the house, Alice?"

  "That's a good idea," said Alice thoughtfully. "We should have had him do it before."

  * * * * *

  Herbert had not quite completed the task of air-conditioning the house when the other spaceship crashed. They all rushed out to the smoking site--the four women and Herbert.

  It was a tiny scoutship, and its single occupant was alive.

  He was unconscious, but he was alive. And he was a man!

  They carted him back to the house, tenderly, and put him to bed. They hovered over him like four hens over a single chick, waiting and watching for him to come out of his coma, while Her
bert scurried about creating and administering the necessary medicines.

  "He'll live," said Thera happily. Thera had been a space nurse. "He'll be on his feet and walking around in a few weeks."

  "A man!" murmured Betsy, with something like awe in her voice. "I could almost believe Herbert brought him here in answer to our prayers."

  "Now, girls," said Alice, "we have to realize that a man brings problems, as well as possibilities."

  There was a matter-of-fact hardness to her tone which almost masked the quiver behind it. There was a defiant note of competition there which had not been heard on this little planet before.

  "What do you mean?" asked Thera.

  "I know what she means," said Marguerite, and the new hardness came natural to her. "She means, which one of us gets him?"

  Betsy, the youngest, gasped, and her mouth rounded to a startled O. Thera blinked, as though she were coming out of a daze.

  "That's right," said Alice. "Do we draw straws, or do we let him choose?"

  "Couldn't we wait?" suggested Betsy timidly. "Couldn't we wait until he gets well?"

  Herbert came in with a new thermometer and poked it into the unconscious man's mouth. He stood by the bed, waiting patiently.

  "No, I don't think we can," said Alice. "I think we ought to have it all worked out and agreed on, so there won't be any dispute about it."

  "I say, draw straws," said Marguerite. Marguerite's face was thin, and she had a skinny figure.

  Betsy, the youngest, opened her mouth, but Thera forestalled her.

  "We are not on Earth," she said firmly, in her soft, mellow voice. "We don't have to follow terrestrial customs, and we shouldn't. There's only one solution that will keep everybody happy--all of us and the man."

  "And that is...?" asked Marguerite drily.

  "Polygamy, of course. He must belong to us all."

  Betsy shuddered but, surprisingly, she nodded.

  "That's well and good," agreed Marguerite, "but we have to agree that no one of us will be favored above the others. He has to understand that from the start."

  "That's fair," said Alice, pursing her lips. "Yes, that's fair. But I agree with Marguerite: he must be divided equally among the four of us."

  Chattering over the details, the hard competitiveness vanished from their tones, the four left the sickroom to prepare supper.

  * * * * *

  After supper they went back in.

  Herbert stood by the bed, the eternal smile of service on his metal face. As always, Herbert had not required a direct command to accede to their wishes.

  The man was divided into four quarters, one for each of them. It was a very neat surgical job.

  * * *

  Contents

  THE GIFT BEARER

  By Charles L. Fontenay

  This could well have been Montcalm's greatest opportunity; a chance to bring mankind priceless gifts from worlds beyond. But Montcalm was a solid family man--and what about that nude statue in the park?

  It was one of those rare strokes of poetic something-or-other that the whole business occurred the morning after the stormy meeting of the Traskmore censorship board.

  Like the good general he was, Richard J. Montcalm had foreseen trouble at this meeting, for it was the boldest invasion yet into the territory of evil and laxity. His forces were marshaled. Several of the town's ministers who had been with him on other issues had balked on this one, but he had three of them present, as well as heads of several women's clubs.

  As he had anticipated, the irresponsible liberals were present to do battle, headed by red-haired Patrick Levitt.

  "This board," said Levitt in his strong, sarcastic voice, "has gone too far. It was all right to get rid of the actual filth ... and everyone will agree there was some. But when you banned the sale of some magazines and books because they had racy covers or because the contents were a little too sophisticated to suit the taste of members of this board ... well, you can carry protection of our youth to the point of insulting the intelligence of adults who have a right to read what they want to."

  "You're talking about something that's already in the past, Mr. Levitt," said Montcalm mildly. "Let's keep to the issue at hand. You won't deny that children see this indecent statue every day?"

  "No, I won't deny it!" snapped Levitt. "Why shouldn't they see it? They can see the plate of the original in the encyclopaedia. It's a fine copy of a work of art."

  Montcalm waited for some rebuttal from his supporters, but none was forthcoming. On this matter, they apparently were unwilling to go farther than the moral backing of their presence.

  "I do not consider the statue of a naked woman art, even if it is called 'Dawn,'" he said bitingly. He looked at his two colleagues and received their nods of acquiescence. He ruled: "The statue must be removed from the park and from public view."

  Levitt had one parting shot.

  "Would it solve the board's problem if we put a brassiere and panties on the statue?" he demanded.

  "Mr. Levitt's levity is not amusing. The board has ruled," said Montcalm coldly, arising to signify the end of the meeting.

  * * * * *

  That night Montcalm slept the satisfied sleep of the just.

  He awoke shortly after dawn to find a strange, utterly beautiful naked woman in his bedroom. For a bemused instant Montcalm thought the statue of Dawn in the park had come to haunt him. His mouth fell open but he was unable to speak.

  "Take me to your President," said the naked woman musically, with an accent that could have been Martian.

  Mrs. Montcalm awoke.

  "What's that? What is it, Richard?" she asked sleepily.

  "Don't look, Millie!" exclaimed Montcalm, clapping a hand over her eyes.

  "Nonsense!" she snapped, pushing his hand aside and sitting up. She gasped and her eyes went wide, and in an instinctive, unreasonable reaction she clutched the covers up around her own nightgowned bosom.

  "Who are you, young woman?" demanded Montcalm indignantly. "How did you get in here?"

  "I am a visitor from what you would call an alien planet," she said. "Of course," she added thoughtfully, "it isn't alien to me."

  "The woman's mad," said Montcalm to his wife. A warning noise sounded in the adjoining bedroom. Alarmed, he instructed: "Go and keep the children out of here until I can get her to put on some clothes. They mustn't see her like this."

  Mrs. Montcalm got out of bed, but she gave her husband a searching glance.

  "Are you sure I can trust you in here with her?" she asked.

  "Millie!" exclaimed Montcalm sternly, shocked. She dropped her eyes and left the room. When the door closed behind her, he turned to the strange woman and said:

  "Now, look, young lady, I'll get you one of Millie's dresses. You'll have to get some clothes on and leave."

  "Aren't you going to ask me my name?" asked the woman. "Of course, it's unpronounceable to you, but I thought that was the first thing all Earth people asked of visitors from other planets."

  "All right," he said in exasperation. "What's your name?"

  She said an unpronounceable word and added: "You may call me Liz."

  * * * * *

  Montcalm went to the closet and found one of Millie's house dresses. He held it out to her beseechingly.

  As he did so, he was stricken with a sudden sharp feeling of regret that she must don it. Her figure ... why Millie had never had a figure like that! At once, he felt ashamed and disloyal and sterner than ever.

  Liz rejected the proffered garment.

  "I wouldn't think of adopting your alien custom of wearing clothing," she said sweetly.

  "Now look," said Montcalm, "I don't know whether you're drunk or crazy, but you're going to have to put something on and get out of here before I call the police."

  "I anticipated doubt," said Liz. "I'm prepared to prove my identity."

  With the words, the two of them were no longer standing in the Montcalm bedroom, but in a broad expanse of green fields a
nd woodland, unmarred by any habitation. Montcalm didn't recognize the spot, but it looked vaguely like it might be somewhere in the northern part of the state.

  Montcalm was dismayed to find that he was as naked as his companion!

  "Oh, my Lord!" he exclaimed, trying to cover himself with a September Morn pose.

  "Oh, I'm sorry," apologized Liz, and instantly Montcalm's pajamas were lying at his feet. He got into them hurriedly.

  "How did we get here?" he asked, his astonished curiosity overcoming his disapproval of this immodest woman.

  "By a mode of transportation common to my people in planetary atmospheres," she answered. "It's one of the things I propose to teach your people."

  She sat down cross-legged on the grass. Montcalm averted his eyes, like the gentleman he was.

  "You see," said Liz, "the people of your world are on the verge of going to space and joining the community of worlds. It's only natural the rest of us should wish to help you. We have a good many things to give you, to help you control the elements and natural conditions of your world. The weather, for example ..."

  Suddenly, out of nowhere, a small cloud appeared above them and spread, blocking out the early sun. It began to rain, hard.

  The rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun and the cloud dissipated. Montcalm stood shivering in his soaked pajamas and Liz got to her feet, her skin glistening with moisture.

  "You have a problem raising food for your population in some areas," she said....

  A small haw-apple tree near them suddenly began to grow at an amazing rate of speed. It doubled its size in three minutes, put forth fruit and dropped it to the ground.

  "These are only a few of the things I'll give to your planet," she said.

  At her words, they were back in the bedroom. This time she had been thoughtful. Montcalm was still clad in wet pajamas.

  "I don't know what sort of hypnosis this is," he began aggressively, "but you can't fool me, young lady, into believing ..."