The Planet of the Blind

by Paul Corey

  Again the vacuum of not-knowing settled around me.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Mid-afternoon and I saw activity over in the lab. Mun appeared, then Zinzer and a few other Grendans. Finally Doctor Rhoa arrived.

  Ello was the last to show up. She wasn’t wearing the glasses. Even from as far away as I was I could see that she looked distraught.

  The meeting started. From the waving of arms I gathered there must be a furious argument under way. It seemed pretty obvious that all present were ranged against Ello, including her father. But she was putting up a good fight.

  Finally I could see that they had apparently beaten her down. Mun and her father were the only ones who appeared the least bit sympathetic. She stood there for a moment with her head slightly bowed. Then she turned away, split out of the lab, and headed over to the Annex.

  I was just inside the wall when she reached my room. She came into my arms as if she really meant it.

  “Oh, Thur, darling.”

  I wondered then how the people on the planet of the blind cried. Where were the tears in the unsighted? As I held her to me, I felt her shoulders shaking. Was she sobbing?

  “What is it, baby?”

  “They’re going to send you to an animal refuge,” she said. “I begged them to let me keep you.”

  All I could do was repeat what I had said before. “They can’t do it. I’m a human being. I’m a visitor from another planet. This is just no way for them to treat me.”

  “I know, darling.” She stroked my head. She scratched gently behind my ears. “I argued all that with them until I was blue-in-the-face.” She stopped. “What does blue-in-the-face mean? Blue? Where did I come upon that idiom?”

  This sudden preoccupation with phraseology when I was about to be bundled off to an animal farm irked me. “Blue is a colour. Like your hair. You see blue.”

  Then I remembered.

  “What happened to the glasses? Didn’t they make some impression on your father and the others?”

  “Oh yes, they impressed all of them.”

  “Well, what happened?”

  “Zinzer and a couple of his friends rode a bubble around over Lonwolt peering into bedrooms and bathrooms. Doctor Mun went along. He told me what happened.

  “They laughed at what they saw, he said. They squabbled over who was to use the glasses and for how long. They thought it was great fun to invade privacy.

  “When they came back, Zinzer was still wearing them. He looked at me. He realised what you have been seeing when you invaded my privacy. He had only known and understood before. Now he saw and believed. He became furious. Seeing was something far too good for an animal. You especially. He demanded that you be executed at once. If my father hadn’t restrained him, he would have come here and killed you.”

  “Mother of the Milky Way,” I said. “He’s really nuts.” She sighed. Her breasts filled her blouse round and firm.

  “I had almost talked them into letting me keep you in my apartment,” she said. “But they decided that you must not be allowed to invade our privacy, my privacy, any longer. Their only solution was isolation in an animal refuge.”

  “They could send me back where I came from,” I said, knowing already the suggestion was hopeless.

  “But they refuse to believe that you are what you say you are on your planet. They believe, with my father, that you are a fugitive from Earth justice. And all of them, except Zinzer, feel that as long as you are outside your society, they might as well keep you here as a specimen, rather than send you back to your planet to meet punishment.”

  “But I committed no crime on Earth.”

  “You said you committed a wrong.”

  “A wrong, yes. A mistake only, not a crime. And I’ve broken no laws here.”

  “You’ve invaded our privacy. Because you happen to be somewhat more intelligent than our animals, that makes your acts of privacy-invading of greater seriousness.”

  We were going around and around again, but I couldn’t stop. “I was brought here against my will. I can’t be held responsible for anything I’ve been forced into against my will.”

  “As an animal, you don’t have a will.”

  “Oh, baby, that’s absurd.” But was it absurd to her? Anything with eyes was an animal and an animal was a lower order of life. “I should have the right to a trial. Isn’t there any justice here at all?”

  “For Grendans, yes. Not for animals.”

  Completely hopeless. Then I got another idea.

  “Don’t you have some organisation that protects animals here?”

  “Yes. Back in the days when the plucking-out of eyes was practised, a group of Grendans got together to stop it. They’re called the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.”

  “Good. Tell them about me, baby. Won’t they help me to get a trial?”

  She was quiet. At last she said, “That’s an idea, darling.” Then she was quiet again as if thinking.

  Perhaps I had hit upon an angle of attack or defense, whichever you wished to call it. But I wasn’t willing to let it rest there.

  “Then there are the glasses,” I said. “There’s a fortune there. They can be made and sold to Grendans. Just think what that would do to the culture of this planet.”

  She almost choked. “Oh no! Grendans must never be permitted to see. That’s what put Doctor Mun against you.”

  “Was he ever for me?” I couldn’t help being bitter.

  “Yes he was. I think he’s still on your side, or my side. He’s not so concerned with this invasion of privacy business, but he had the glasses during the storm. What he saw with them scared him almost into a fit. He feels that if Grendans had sight-makers during a storm like we had yesterday they would panic. Our whole civilisation might be destroyed. He won’t let me have the glasses now. He insists that they be kept locked up. And I wanted to see you again.”

  “But your father doesn't have to do what Zinzer and Mun and the others say. He out-ranks them, doesn’t he?”

  “Of course, darling, but he can’t ignore them entirely. Besides, he’s terribly concerned about invasion of privacy. And Mun disturbed him more with this fear idea.” She snuggled close to me. “That’s why I couldn’t wangle more concessions. You are in my custody still, although you’ll have to stay at the animal refuge.” She sighed contentedly. “Believe me, darling, I won’t let them take you away from me.”

  I stroked her soft blue hair. I stroked her cheeks and ran my fingers over the place where her eyes should have been. This was a crazy situation but I felt strong and equal to anything. Vague ideas began to germinate.

  “I’ll never leave you, baby.”

  “I know, my pet,” she said. “I’ll see to that.”

  Her quiet assurance startled me. Then the truth hit me like a meteorite. She didn’t feel the way I did at all. I was her animal pet and they weren’t going to take me away from her.

  I saw two guards coming from the Science Building. It was time to relieve my guards, I concluded. But that wasn’t it. They split into my room and one of them buzzed at Ello.

  “It’s time to go,” she said.

  I felt the beam pass through my shoulders. An incredible helplessness came over me.

  “I’m going along,” Ello said. “I want to make sure that you are well taken care of.”

  There was some consolation in that but not much. I knew now that I couldn’t talk myself out of this plan. I had to have time to think. I had to work out a plan.

  If I could get a trial, perhaps I could win some sort of freedom on Grenda. The freedom of a household pet, an apartment pet, would be something. I might find some way to communicate with Earth. There was always the possibility I could get back to my spacerover and escape.

  Time was what I needed. As long as Zinzer didn’t get at me I was safe. I pulled on my beret, slung my survival kit over my shoulder and picked up my fallon cape.

  “I’m ready,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  Ell
o buzzed at the two guards and we went out.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Behind the Science Building, right next to the maze, a four-place bubble rested on the grass. It split to the wave of a guard’s hand and we got aboard. Effortlessly, we floated up and over Lonwolt toward the lush green country.

  Yesterday’s deluge had washed everything until it gleamed and shimmered in the afternoon sun. I saw swollen streams and flooded fields, Ello leaned against me, her head on my shoulder. I held her close.

  “You are missing so much,” I said.

  She raised her head slightly. “What am I missing?”

  “The storm has made the country incredibly beautiful,” I said and went on to describe it to her.

  There was a little catch in her voice when she said, “I wish I had my eyes back.”

  I changed the subject. “When Lal served my dinner last night, he said the converter was off.”

  “Yes. Extra loud sounds, like those we get in a storm, jolt its delicate mechanism out of pattern.”

  “Can’t your technicians cushion the converter from such electrical discharges?”

  “Electrical? We find that word in your language but no point of reference for understanding.”

  “Don’t you have electricity?” That seemed incredible. “Isn’t this bubble operated on some form of electrical energy?”

  “Oh no! It just rides an energy beam.”

  “But isn’t that energy beam electrical?”

  “I don’t think so,” she said. “I’m not a—a physicist or a chemist. Tell me what electricity is.”

  “I don’t know that I can define it.” I realised that she knew nothing about lightning. She only knew the sound of thunder. She thought that sound jolted the converter not that a lightning bolt had hit it. Lightning apparently couldn’t penetrate their plastic material but it could give it a devil of a jolt.

  “Those loud sounds you get from a storm,” I said, “are violent and uncontrolled discharges of electricity. On Earth we create and control electricity. It is our main source of energy.”

  “I am sure the energy we convert from our sun is nothing like that,” she said.

  Then it occurred to me that without metals they couldn’t have electricity. And with metal as a conductor they could draw the lightning away from their converter.

  But what was this energy they used? I looked down to the ground several hundred feet below, and felt afraid.

  “What happens to these bubbles when your converter fails?”

  “They’re grounded. We have to walk.”

  “And if they are up when the energy goes off?”

  “They are never up in a storm.”

  “But who controls them? This one, for instance?”

  “We do. Really, I suppose it’s just Ort who is controlling it. The big guard. We all know where we’re going so we might as well let him activate the bubble into beam channels and control its speed and direction.”

  I was about to ask what happened if there was a disagreement, but off to the left, not far, I saw a cluster of buildings. In a few minutes we floated down among them. They were laid out like an Earth farmyard. To one side were three large structures with smudged and dirty transparent walls. It wasn’t easy to see what was in them but I assumed it was hay or some other Grendan-type fodder.

  Smaller buildings could have been shelters for stock. A flock of large birds scattered as we landed. They chortled and clucked. Grendan chickens, I told myself. But they were almost as large as turkeys with plumage a brilliant mixture of reds, greens and blues. Their beaks were as thick as a parrot’s.

  When we got out of the bubble the birds drifted back curiously. Ello clucked, chortled and squawked at them. They set up a terrific clamour. She made a shrill sound like I have heard hawks make in my game preserve and the birds scurried to shelter.

  A huge Grendan came stumbling through the wall of one of the barns. He was rough-looking and dirty. Bushy vestigial brows left only a narrow forehead below his hairline. When one of the guards buzzed at him, he bowed low. His buzzing reply was guttural and stuttering.

  “This is the caretaker of the refuge,” Ello said. Then she buzzed an introduction of some kind at him.

  His immediate reaction was to walk around me. Then his huge grime-wrinkled hands brushed me over. He seemed puzzled. He buzzed and Ello buzzed back. After stroking his thick chin, he gave a shrill whistle. Another Grendan came out of the barn.

  This one was older and shorter. His head was flat, almost straight back from the bridge of his nose. His hairline seemed to merge with any vestigial brows he might have had.

  He walked around me the same way the boss-caretaker had. Then he began feeling me over. The fact that I had only two legs seemed to bother him. His hands squeezed and pulled at me.

  “Hey,” I said, “make this dim-wit stop groping me.”

  Ello buzzed and he jumped back. But he burst forth with a shrill twittering that hurt my ears. She said something more to him and he gurgled into silence.

  “We’ll show you to your room now,” she said and buzzed at the caretaker.

  But we didn’t start. Apparently the boss didn’t like what she had said. He buzzed and carried on at great length. Ello remained firm. At last she said, “Well, that’s settled.”

  The guards stayed with the bubble. Ello and I headed for a transparent surface and the two caretakers followed. The surface split and let us through. It was a high wall surrounding another building. This was apparently the farm house where the crew lived.

  Anyhow, I thought, I’m not going to be bedded down with the cattle.

  The room I was led into seemed as large as the one I had occupied at the University. I could see the private bath and it looked relatively clean. But the whole place had a sort of dingy appearance, an un-scrubbed look.

  “The caretaker is giving you his room,” Ello said. “He will move into the dormitory with the rest of the crew.” That explained his hasty gathering up of clothing and other things. All the time he was buzzing like a slightly disturbed bumble-bee. I didn’t like this arrangement. He would be justified in resenting being turned out of his room.

  “I don’t want to take his quarters,” I said.

  “It’s all right,” Ello assured me. “He doesn’t like it, but it’s his orders.”

  “How do I communicate with these farmers?” I asked.

  “They’ve been told what to do. Tonight the caretaker and his Number One will sleep with a language teacher,” she said. “They’re low-score people and can’t be expected to learn too much.”

  I put down my gear. She turned half around, waving an arm in a final check-up of the place.

  “It’s getting late.” She came to me quickly and kissed me hard. “See you tomorrow, darling.”

  I held her back. “Remember the SPCA, baby,” I said. “I want a trial or at least a court hearing.”

  “Don’t worry, darling. They are not going to keep my pet away from me for very long.” She went out to the bubble.

  After Ello and the guards had floated away, I sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling mighty lonely. Later I got up and walked around the room checking out its transparent boundaries. I examined the walls—same as Lonwolt—the floor, the table, the couch. It wasn’t as soft as the bed I had in town. I looked into the other part of the house and gradually made out the dormitory, dining room and the kitchen. The kitchen part was easier to make out because the cook was busy getting supper.

  Outside the house yard-wall, at some distance, I saw a herd of animals. It was just a darkling mass. Probably cattle, I told myself. This could be a dairy. They could be grazing out there in a meadow.

  The sun had touched the mountains, spreading shadows. I strained to make out the kind of animals I was seeing. Then, quite near at hand, around the corner of the house appeared a largish animal with a long fluid tail.

  I stared at it a moment before I accepted what my eyes told me. It was built like an Earth house cat. Only this one wa
s as big as a Doberman. Its body was orangy-yellow with tiger stripes, tail ringed and shaded into a dark tan. I watched it sniff along the wall towards my room. Its face was also a dark tan with ears almost black. It had a wide face with squarish jaw and long bristling whiskers.

  When it reached my room, it looked in at me with great curious blue eyes. It saw me. It looked into my eyes. I felt sure I saw an expression of eagerness or excitement come over its face as our eyes met.

  A person should never move quickly in the presence of a cat but my action was a reflex. Here was something I recognised in outline and it had eyes. I sprang to the wall and dropped on my knees.

  The cat—at least I was sure it was an animal of the feline species—drew back instantly. I saw its mouth open wide. I saw sharp white teeth, fangs, grinders. I saw the pink mouth, ridge-roofed, tongue tip pressed against lower teeth, centre thickly arched. I heard the unmistakable hiss of warning.

  After days of seeing blank eyeless faces, staring into patches of skin where eyes should be, you can’t imagine how wonderful it was just to look into eyes. Those eyes were so large and blue. Maybe they weren’t saying anything to me, only expressing curiosity, just animal eyes, just the eyes of a cat. I almost felt like crying.

  The animal regained its confidence and came close to the wall. Only a quarter-inch of transparency separated us. It sniffed the surface just opposite my face as if trying to sniff my nose. Then it made a guttural, miaowing sound. It was a cat all right, of the cat family. But what a monster!

  The size didn’t really disturb me. It seemed friendly enough. I felt that I had found a long lost friend when I needed him badly. “Kitty, kitty,” I said.

  He arched his back and rubbed against the wall as if he was trying to reach me inside. Then he moved on. At the corner of the house he sniffed carefully, looked skyward with teeth bared, then turned his backside and sprinkled that corner precisely. Yes sir, he was a cat all right.