Giant Series 01 - Inherit the Stars
Page 25
discussing the latest news on the Ganymean field drive, while
behind them another circle was debating the likelihood of a world
government being established within twenty years. Danchekker seemed
to have been unduly quiet and withdrawn for most of the evening.
"When you think about ft, Vic, this could develop into the ulti
mate weapon in interplanetary warfare," one of the physicists was
saying. "Based on the same principles as the ship's drive, but a
lot more powerful and producing a far more intense and localized
effect. It would generate a black hole that would persist, even
after the generator that made it had fallen into it. Just think-an
artificially produced black hole. All you'd have to do is mount the
device in a suitable missile and fire it at any planet you took a
dislike to. It would fall to the center and consume the whole
planet- and there'd be no way to stop it."
Hunt looked intrigued. "You mean it could work?"
"The theory says so."
"Christ, how long would it take-to wipe out a planet?"
"We don't know yet; we're still working on that bit. But there's
more to it than that. There's no reason why you shouldn't be able
to put out a star using the same method. Think about that as a
weapon-one black-hole bomb could destroy a whole solar system. It
makes nucleonic weapons look like kiddie toys."
Hunt started to reply, but a voice from the center of the room cut
him off, rising to make itself heard above the buzz of
conversation. It belonged to the commander of Pithead Base, special
guest at the dinner.
"Attention, please, everybody," he called. "Your attention for a
moment, please." The noise died as all faces turned toward him. He
looked around until satisfied that everyone was paying attention.
"You have invited me here tonight to join you in celebrating the
successful conclusion of what has probably been one of the most
challenging, the most astounding, and the most rewarding endeavors
that you are ever likely to be involved in. You have had
difficulties, contradictions, and disagreements to contend with,
but all that is now in the past. The task is done. My
congratulations." He glanced toward the clock above the bar. "It is
midnight-a suitable time, I think, to propose a toast to the being
that started the whole thing off, wherever he may be." He raised
his glass. "To Charlie."
"To Charlie," came back the chorus.
"No!"
A voice boomed from the back of the room. It sounded firm and
decisive. Everybody turned to look at Danchekker in surprise.
"No," the professor repeated. "We can't drink to that just yet."
There was no suggestion of hesitation or apology in his manner.
Clearly his action was reasoned and calculated.
"What's the problem, Chris?" Hunt asked, moving forward away from
the bar.
"I'm afraid that's not the end of it."
"How do you mean?"
"The whole Charlie business- There is more to it-more than I have
chosen to mention to anybody, because I have no proof. However,
there is a further implication in all that has been deduced-one
which is even more difficult to accept than even the revelations of
the past few weeks."
The festive atmosphere had vanished. Suddenly they were in business
again. Danchekker walked slowly toward the center of the room and
stopped with his hands resting on the back of one of the chairs. He
gazed at the table for a moment, then drew a deep breath and looked
up.
"The problem with Charlie, and the rest of the Lunarians, that has
not been touched upon is this: quite simply, they were too human."
Puzzled looks appeared here and there. Somebody turned to his
neighbor and shrugged. They all looked back at Danchekker in
silence.
"Let us recapitulate for a moment some of the fundamental
principles of evolution," he said. "How do different animal species
arise? Well, we know that variations of a given species arise from
mutations caused by various agencies. It follows from elementary
genetics that in a freely mixing and interbreeding population, any
new characteristic will tend to be diluted, and will disappear
within relatively few generations. However"-the professor's tone
became deadly serious-"when sections of the population become
reproductively isolated from one another-for example, by
geegraphical separation, by segregation of behavior patterns, or by
seasonal differences, say, in mating times-dilution through
interbreeding will be prevented. When a new characteristic appears
within an isolated group, it will be confined to and reinforced
within that group; thus, generation by generation, the group will
diverge from the other group or groups from which it has been
isolated. Finally a new species will establish itself. This
principle is fundamental to the whole idea of evolution: Given
isolation, divergence will occur. The origins of all species on
Earth can be
traced back to the existence at some time of some mechanism or
other of isolation between variations within a single species. The
animal life peculiar to Australia and South America, for instance,
demonstrates how rapidly divergence takes effect even when
isolation has existed only for a short time.
"Now we seem to be satisfied that for the best part of twenty-five
million years, two groups of terrestrial animals-one on Earth, the
other on Minerva-were left to evolve in complete isolation. As a
scientist who accepts fully the validity of the principle I have
just outlined, I have no hesitation in saying that divergence
between these two groups must have taken place. That, of course,
applies equally to the primate lines that were represented on both
planets."
He stopped and stood looking from one to the other of his
colleagues, giving them time to think and waiting for a reaction.
The reaction came from the far end of the room.
"Yes, now I see what you're saying," somebody said. "But why
speculate? What's the point in saying they should have diverged,
when it's clear that they didn't?"
Danchekker beamed and showed his teeth. "What makes you say they
didn't?" he challenged.
The questioner raised his arms in appeal. "What my two eyes tell
me-I can see they didn't."
"What do you see?"
"I see humans. I see Lunarians. They're the same. So, they didn't
diverge."
"Didn't they?" Danchekker's voice cut the air like a whiplash. "Or
are you making the same unconscious assumption that everyone else
has made? Let me go over the facts once again, purely from an
objective point of view. I'll simply list the things we observe and
make no assumptions, conscious or otherwise, about how they fit in
with what we think we already know.
"First: The two populations were isolated. Fact.
"Second: Today, twenty-five million years later, we observe two
sets of individuals, ourselves and the Lunarians. Fact.
"Third: We and th
e Lunarians are identical. Fact.
"Now, if we accept the principle that divergence must have
occurred, what must we conclude? Ask yourselves- If confronted by
those facts and nothing else, what would any scientist deduce?"
Danchekker stood facing them, pursing his lips and rocking
back and forth on his heels. Silence enveloped the room, broken
after a few seconds by his whistling quietly and tunelessly to
himself.
"Christ . . . !" The exclamation came from Hunt. He stood gaping at
the professor in undisguised disbelief. "They couldn't have been
isolated from each other," he managed at last in a slow, halting
voice. "They must both be from the same. . ." The words trailed
away.
Danchekker nodded with evident satisfaction. "Vic's seen what I am
saying," he informed the group. "You see, the only logical
conclusion that can be drawn from the statements I have just
enumerated is this: If two identical forms are observed today, they
must both come from the same isolated group. In other words, if two
lines were isolated and branched apart, both forms must lie on the
same branch!"
"How can you say that, Chris?" someone insisted. "We know they came
from different branches."
"What do you know?" Danchekker whispered.
"Well, I know that the Lunarians came from the branch that was
isolated on Minerva. . ."
"Agreed."
". . . And I know that man comes from the branch that was isolated
on Earth."
"How?"
The question echoed sharply around the walls like a pistol shot.
"Well " The speaker made a gesture of helplessness. "How do I
answer a question like that? It. . . it's obvious."
"Precisely!" Danchekker showed his teeth again. "You assume it-just
as everybody else does! That's part of the conditioning you've
grown up with. It has been assumed all through the history of the
human race, and naturally so-there has never been any reason to
suppose otherwise." Danchekker straightened up and regarded the
room with an unblinking stare. "Now perhaps you see the point of
all this. I am stating that, on the evidence we have just examined,
the human race did not evolve on Earth at all. It evolved on
Minerva!"
"Oh, Chris, really. . ."
"This is getting ridiculous. .
Danchekker hammered on relentlessly: "Because, if we accept that
divergence must have occurred, then both we and the Lu-
narians must have evolved in the same place, and we already know
that they evolved on Minerva!"
A murmur of excitement mixed with protest ran around the room.
"I am stating that Charlie is not just a distantly related cousin
of man-he is our direct ancestor!" Danchekker did not wait for
comment but pressed on in the same insistent tone: "And I believe
that I can give you an explanation of our own origins which is
fully consistent with these deductions." An abrupt silence fell
upon the room. Danchekker regarded his colleagues for a few
seconds. When he spoke again, his voice had fallen to a calmer and
more objective note.
"From Charlie's account of his last days, we know that some
Lunarians were left alive on the Moon after the fighting died down.
Charlie himself was one of them. He did not survive for long, but
we can guess that there were others-desperate groups such as the
ones he described-scattered across that Lunar surface. Many would
have perished in the meteorite storm on Farside, but some, like
Charlie's group, were on Nearside when Minerva exploded and were
spared the worst of the bombardment. Even a long time later, when
the Moon finally stabilized in orbit around Earth, a handful of
survivors remained who gazed up at the new world that hung in their
sky. Presumably some of their ships were still usable-perhaps just
one, or two, or a few. There was only one way out. Their world had
ceased to exist, so they took the only path open to them and set
off on a last, desperate attempt to reach the surface of Earth.
There could be no way back-there was no place to go back to.
"So we must conclude that their attempt succeeded. Precisely what
events followed their emergence out into the savagery of the Ice
Age we will probably never know for sure. But we can guess that for
generations they hung on the very edge of extinction. Their
knowledge and skills would have been lost. Gradually they reverted
to barbarism, and for forty thousand years were lost in the midst
of the general struggle for survival. But survive they did. Not
only did they survive, they consolidated, spread, and flourished.
Today their descendants dominate the Earth just as they dominated
Minerva-you, I, and the rest of the human race."
A long silence ensued before anybody spoke. When somebody did, the
tone was solemn. "Chris, assuming for now that every-
thing was like you've said, a point stifi bothers me: If we and the
Lunarians both came from the Minervan line, what happened to the
other line? Where did the branch that was developing on Earth go?"
"Good question." Danchekker nodded approval. "We know from the
fossil record on Earth that during the period that came after the
visits of the Ganymeans several developments in the general human
direction took place. We can trace this record quite clearly right
up to the time in question, fifty thousand years ago. By that time
the most advanced stage reached on Earth was that represented by
Neanderthal man. Now, the Neanderthals have always been something
of a riddle. They were hardy, tough, and superior in intelligence
to anything prior to them or coexisting with them. They seemed well
adapted to survive the competition of the Ice Age and should, one
would think, have attained a dominant position in the era that was
to follow. But that did not happen. Strangely, almost mysteriously,
they died out abruptly between forty and fifty thousand years ago.
Apparently they were unable to compete effectively against a new
and far more advanced type of man, whose sudden appearance, as if
from nowhere, has always been another of the unsolved riddles of
science:
Homo sapiens-us!"
Danchekker read the expressions on the faces before him and nodded
slowly to confirm their thoughts.
"Now, of course, we see why this was so. He did indeed appear out
of nowhere. We see why there is no clear fossil record in the soil
of Earth to link Homo sapiens back to the chain of earlier
terrestrial man-apes: He did not evolve there. And we see what it
was that so ruthlessly and so totally overwhelmed the Neanderthals.
How could they hope to compete against an advanced race, weaned on
the warrior cult of Minerva?"
Danchekker paused and allowed his gaze to sweep slowly around the
circle of faces. Everybody seemed to be suffering from mental
punch-drunkenness.
"As I have said, all this follows purely as a chain of reasoning
from the observations with which I began. I can offer no evidence
to support it.
I am convinced, however, that such evidence does
exist. Somewhere on Earth the remains of the Lunarian spacecraft
that made that last journey from Luna must still exist, possibly
buried beneath the mud of a seabed, possibly under the sands of
one of the desert regions. There must exist, on Earth, pieces of
equipment and artifacts brought by the tiny handful who represented
the remnant of the Lunarian civilization. Where on Earth, is
anyone's guess. Personally, I would suggest as the most likely
areas the Middle East, the eastern Mediterranean, or the eastern
regions of North Africa. But one day proof that what I have said is
true will be forthcoming. This I predict with every confidence."
The professor walked around to the table and poured a glass of
Coke. The silence of the room slowly dissolved into a rising tide
of voices. One by one, the statues that had been listening returned
to life. Danchekker took a long drink and stood in silence for a
while, contemplating his glass. Then he turned to face the room
again.
"Suddenly lots of things that we have always simply taken for
granted start falling into place." Attention centralized on him
once again. "Have you ever stopped to think what it is that makes
man so different from all the other animals on Earth? I know that
we have larger brains, more-versatile hands, and so forth; what I
am referring to is something else. Most animals, when in a hopeless
situation will resign themselves to fate and perish in ignominy.
Man, on the other hand, does not know how to give in. He is capable
of summoning up reserves of stubbornness and resilience that are
without parallel on his planet. He is able to attack anything that
threatens his survival, with an aggressiveness the like of which
the Earth has never seen otherwise. It is this that has enabled him
to sweep all before him, made him lord of all the beasts, helped
him tame the winds, the rivers, the tides, and even the power of
the Sun itself. This stubbornness has conquered the oceans, the
skies, and the challenges of space, and at times has resulted in
some of the most violent and bloodstained periods in his history.
But without this side to his nature, man would be as helpless as
the cattle in the field."
Danchekker scanned the faces challengingly. "Well, where did it
come from? It seems out of character with the sedate and easygoing