As Murray got older he took more interest in his education. After he read the three leftover fiches, he explored the school’s library and saved his money to buy more. When Murray was fourteen he learned that Grandpa Zalman had died; Murray was filled with grief for the first time in his life. He felt that he had never thanked his grandfather for all the old man had shown him. Murray was determined to repay Grandpa Zalman, and to make some sort of memorial to the old man, whom Murray’s parents were gratefully forgetting as quickly as possible.
Tenth-year Tests were scheduled for Murray’s class in the middle of February; Murray had just turned fifteen. Through the first six years of his schooling he had seemed to be just another unexceptional student, destined for the army or the CAS work legions. But then, after his grandfather’s visit, he showed a sudden and dramatic improvement. Murray entered the Test room anxiously, unaware of the envious glances he drew from his fellow students. The Test lasted six hours, and he was one of the first to complete his tapes. The next day he was ordered to the office of the school’s master.
“Come in, Mr. Rose,” said Master Jennings. “Get comfortable. I have some good news for you.”
Murray relaxed. He always felt terribly guilty when he was called into the office, even though he knew he hadn’t done anything wrong. He sat in a chair opposite the master’s desk and waited.
“This afternoon TECT finished evaluating the Tenth-year Tests. You did very well yesterday, Mr. Rose. In fact, you finished first in our school. Congratulations.” Murray smiled; he was proud, and happy that in a small way he had repaid Grandpa Zalman. “More importantly,” said Master Jennings, “your score led everyone else in the district. This is the first time our school has had that distinction. Of course, you can understand how grateful we are for that honor. More to the point, though, is the reward you’ve won for yourself.”
Murray knew that the higher scores earned special privileges from the Representatives and TECT. “When you called me in,” he said, “I began to think that perhaps something special had happened. I’ve been hoping for a new fichereader.”
The master laughed. “You’ll be getting a lot better than that,” he said. “As a district winner, you’re entitled to a Mark VII tect unit, installed in your home. That comes with complete infotape, newstape, computape, and entertainment capabilities. Everything but the teletrans unit. Only the continental winners get the big one. And you’re still in the running for that; many of the other districts haven’t had their Tenth-year Tests as yet. The final winner will be announced next week.”
Murray was astonished. He would have his own tect, right in the house! That meant access to virtually every facet of TECT itself, except the data classified for security purposes. Of course, he’d still have to use the public teletrans tect facilities. But that was hardly a disappointment....
As promised, the continental winner was named several days later. It wasn’t Murray; he wasn’t at all let down, for on the same afternoon his own prize, the Mark VII tect, was installed in his house. His parents were proud and a little amazed. They weren’t imaginative enough to understand all that the tect represented. Murray stayed up well into the night asking the console questions, having it project pages of books on many esoteric subjects, playing games of go and chess against TECT’s Level Nine Opposition.
In the following years, of course, the unit helped Murray even further in his studies. He excelled in high school, and produced a brilliant score on his Twelfth-year Test. He was curious about what kind of prize he would win for that. Nothing was mentioned the next day. Murray was very disappointed. All through the final three weeks before graduation, Murray hoped that he would be called into Master Jennings’ office again. That did not happen, either. Murray graduated from school, receiving a huge ovation from the audience when he went to take his diploma. At home that afternoon, a message was waiting for him on the tect’s CRT readout. It said:
**ROSE, Murray S. RepNA Dis9 Secl4 Loc58-NY-337
MI 54-62-485-39Min
12:48:36 9July 467 YR ProgQuery ReplReq**
**ROSE, Murray S.:
Results of Twelfth-year Test earn planet from list (following)**
**ROSE, Murray S.:
Accept?**
The tect’s Advise light was flashing, meaning that TECT had been asking for an immediate answer since quarter to one. It was now nearly four. He identified himself and the light went out. “Reply to 12:48:36 Query, 9 July, 467. Reply affirm.” Then, to be safe, he typed in yes after Accept?** on the tect’s screen. He had no idea what the real circumstances were, but it seemed to him that TECT was offering Murray a planet. The boy had never heard of such a thing. In a few seconds the promised list appeared:
**ROSE, Murray S.:
15:52:28 9July 467 YR ProgCat**
**ROSE, Murray S.:
Choice to be made from current available planetary bodies**
**Print list:
Lalande 8760 Planet C
Lalande 8760 Planet D
Tau Ceti Planet C
Wolf 359 Planet B
Struve 2398 Planet B
Struve 2398 Planet C
Struve 2398 Planet D
And so on. The tectscreen filled with hundreds of entries in TECT’s master star catalogue. But none of the planets were described; Murray, still not fully appreciating that he was being given an entire world, had nothing useful on which to base his choice. The list went on, ending at last with:
Walsung 832 Planet C**
**ROSE, Murray S.:
Choice?**
“Query,” he said.
**ROSE, Murray S.:
?**
“According to contemporary standards,” said Murray, “rate the planets on the list, insofar as the following criteria are concerned: comfort of climate and terrain, probability of cultivating normal dietary constituents, minimum at least of aesthetic pleasures, lack of serious dangers consisting of animal, vegetable, mineral, geological, and meteorological threats, at least one potential homesite with optimum conditions implied by the above and entailing what we understand to be essential for normal life and human happiness. Narrow the list to three choices.”
TECT ransacked its memories for nearly a minute. Finally the original list of worlds on the CRT vanished, replaced by Epsilon Eridani, Planet D; Tau Ceti, Planet C; and Pasogh 1874, Planet C.
**ROSE, Murray S.:
Choice?**
“Print data on the three choices. Request hard copy.” Immediately, full profiles of the three planets appeared in the form of fiches, through a slot beneath the CRT screen. Murray studied the material for a couple of hours. Just before dinner he went to the tect. After Choice?** he typed, Pasogh 1874, Planet C. Then he went out and told his parents, who laughed skeptically. The next morning another message on the tect waited for him. It said:
**ROSE, Murray S. RepNA Dis9 Secl4 Loc58-NY-337
M154-62-485-39Min
08:38:06 1OJuly 467 YR RepGreet MANDATORY**
**ROSE, Murray S.:
Greetings from the Representative of North America (text follows) (conditions follow) (commands follow)**
**ROSE, Murray S.:
The Representative of North America congratulates you on your superlative score in the Twelfth-year Test, and on your award. Your planet, Pasogh 1874,
Planet C, has been readied for you, according to current standards and the wishes of the Representative.
You are to report to TECT TELETRANS Main Substation by 12:00:00 11July 467 YR. Failure to do so will be considered Contempt of RepWish**
**ROSE, Murray S.:
You are enjoined against worry, for your planet has been prepared with more than enough material for all sustenance and a generous share of luxury.
You are advised to terminate all business and to appoint an agent to govern those affairs that cannot be brought to a conclusion by noon tomorrow**
**ROSE, Murray S.:
Name agent**
“Rose, Gordon J.,” said Murray
.
**ROSE, Murray S.:
State relationship to agent**
“He’s my father.”
**ROSE, Murray S.:
Congratulations once more. Good luck**
And that was it. Murray stared at the console for several seconds, still futilely trying to understand what had happened. He had been given a planet. That in itself was unbelievable enough; but he was expected—no, he was compelled—to settle on the unknown place in a matter of hours. He thought about how he would break the news to his parents. He went back to the tect. He identified himself to the console and waited for the ?** to appear. When it did, he said, “Request.”
**ROSE, Murray S.:
State request**
“I’d like a printout of all material relayed through this console since l0July 467 YR RepGreet.” In a few seconds a fiche appeared in the slot. Murray took the fiche into the living room and explained the situation to his parents. Their skepticism of the previous day turned first to wonder, then to pride, and at last to horror.
“Tomorrow?” cried Murray’s mother. “What kind of a thing is that? Tomorrow?”
“You’re going away? Where?” asked his father, who couldn’t comprehend the magnitude of the situation.
“I’m going to another planet,” said Murray wearily. “Somewhere out in space. By another star. They gave it to me.”
“But what about us?” asked his mother, sobbing. “What about you? What about college? Are you going all by yourself?”
“I guess so,” said Murray. He hadn’t thought about it that way, the only human being on an entire world. He felt cold suddenly, frightened and lonely.
“Who are these Representatives?” said his father. “How can they tear a family apart like this? How can they ruin a fine boy’s life?”
“You don’t understand,” said Murray. “It’s an honor. Not even the Representatives themselves have a whole planet to govern. It’s a special award, because of how well I did in school.”
“I want you here, Murray,” said his mother. Murray just sighed. He explained to his father about the job of acting as Murray’s agent; then Murray went back to his room to pack.
The next day he awoke early, dressed, made himself a small breakfast, and checked his suitcases again. His father came into Murray’s room and shook his son’s hand. “Your mother’s upset,” he said. “I gave her a pill last night, so she won’t wake up until after you’re gone.”
“Okay,” said Murray. “I’ll miss her. I’ll miss you.”
“It’s a hell of an opportunity, I suppose,” said Murray’s father. “I have to get down to the Substation. It’s getting late.” Murray loaded his luggage into his small car. His father stood on the driveway, looking worried and sad. Just before Murray began backing out of the drive, his father came to the car and shook hands again. Murray said nothing.
There were only a few people in the Substation. Teletrans was an expensive way to travel; people made long journeys by train, or they saved their money for the trip by tect. There didn’t seem to be anyone to meet Murray. He went up to a uniformed CAS guard and explained his predicament.
“Certainly, Mr. Rose,” said the guard. He spoke with more deference than Murray had ever experienced. “Just check in at the TECT desk over there.” Murray began to wrestle his suitcases across the broad, polished floor, but to his surprise the guard offered to carry one of the bags. Murray nodded, and carried the other suitcase to the TECT control station.
“Mr. Rose?” asked one of the uniformed women there. Murray nodded. “Just sign here, and step through. You’ll have to leave those bags behind.”
“But I’ll need—”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Rose,” said the woman. “The office of the Representative specified ‘No Luggage.’ It costs too much to ship it through, and they’ve taken care of all your needs on the other side.” Murray shrugged and signed the release form.
“Through here?” he asked, pointing to a small door in the building’s wall, apparently leading back out to the parking lot. The woman waved him away impatiently. Murray took a deep breath, opened the door, and walked through.
He was on another world.
Behind him there was the sound of the door sighing closed. He turned around quickly, but there was no hint of building or portal. Murray stood in the midst of a meadow of tall, waving grass. The field ran unbroken to the horizon, the light turquoise color of the grass making the scene more like a seascape than virgin prairie. To his left, on a small knoll, stood a house. Murray walked toward it, enjoying the odd smells of the plants and the moist red soil. The sun was low in the sky; whether it was rising or setting he could not immediately decide. The star around which Planet C traveled was of a more orange color than Earth’s sun. And the sky had a magenta tint to it that startled Murray several times on the way to the house.
A note was tacked to the front gate. It said:
Congratulations, Murray S. Rose! Welcome to your new home! The crops in your fields are nearly ready to be harvested. These fruits and vegetables have been grown under the supervision of the Representatives, and are recommended for flavor and nutrition. Cooking instructions and menu suggestions will be found in the kitchen, along with helpful hints toward saving seeds, etc., for next year’s crops. Though the plants may look bizarre and unsavory, you will soon learn to value their manifold benefits.
In the small outbuilding you will find a variety of native animals, psychotamed for your convenience. Some of them will augment your diet, others are merely work animals. Full descriptions of their roles, needs, and natural histories will be found in the barn.
All utilities are built into the house. No maintenance is necessary. The house is supplied with a Mark VII tect to replace the one you left on Earth, which has been reclaimed. Your tect here on Planet C will serve all functions to the best of its capabilities. It is linked directly to TECT, to provide you with uninterrupted service and advice in your new surroundings.
Finally, do not worry over your apparent isolation. Your life and happiness are still matters of concern to your Representative, who is proud of you and your achievements. Merely because you reside on a far-flung planet does not mean that the eyes of the Representative are not cast protectively on you. You will be married within two years. The usual delay of eight years for first-born offspring will be waived in your special case. All services and privileges due a citizen of North America will be fulfilled promptly and with special enthusiasm. Enjoy Planet C. Congratulations!
There are no locks on the doors.
Murray took the note and walked up the path to the house. It looked like a typical midwestern farmhouse, with picket fence, porch swing, curtained windows, and smoking chimney. The one error was the color. The house was painted a traditional farmhouse red, which looked terrible in the orange light, under a magenta sky. Murray made a mental note to do something about it. Inside, the house was lovely. It was furnished in an old-fashioned, comfortable style. The kitchen and the bathroom plumbing were efficient and attractive. Murray wandered through the rooms, climbed the stairs and explored more rooms, gazed through all the windows until he realized how silent it was. It was incredibly quiet.
He grew hungry. There was no food in the kitchen at all. There were the promised leaflets, though. One said, Welcome to Planet C! in huge Gothic script letters. It gave a short description of the various edible plants growing in Murray’s fields, with photographs of the fruits or vegetables in ripe and unripe stages. Murray wanted something quick to munch on, before he got on with the job of settling in.
He riffled through the pamphlets until he came to a description of a semi-aware creature housed in the barn. The thing was actually a colony of dozens of football-sized, amoebalike creatures. These jellyballs could be found oozing along the ground during the summer, and frozen into solid white stones in the wintertime. In the soft stage, two or more could be tossed into a container, where they would coalesce into a single entity. When this happened, the creatu
re would begin producing tough gray objects, about once a week. If more single jellyballs were added and assimilated, the gray lumps formed more frequently. These gray things, according to the booklet, settled down through the unsolid body of the aggregate creature; the lumps were a great deal more dense, and in the wild eventually were left behind in the path of the jellyball. The creature in the barn was housed in a wooden tub with a trapdoor on the bottom. Just inside, between the trapdoor and the creature, was a layer of wire netting with holes large enough for the gray lumps to pass through. Murray had merely to open the trapdoor to let the gray lumps fall out, and close it before the jellyanimal itself began to drip down. If more young jellyballs were found, they could always be tossed in to improve the stock. The gray lumps had to be boiled thoroughly; otherwise they were intensely poisonous. Afterward they were softer and quite palatable. According to the pamphlet.
Obviously, the gray lumps were supposed to become a staple of his diet. Murray felt a queasy feeling grow in his stomach. The other beasts with which the planet and the thoughtfulness of the Representative provided him were equally as unsettling. But a living had to be made from them. Murray went outside to the barn, to inspect his cattle.
As the weeks passed, Murray adjusted quickly to the new environment. There was too much work to do to waste time in loneliness and petty regrets. Every day after dark, when he had made himself a strange-looking but nonetheless appetizing meal, Murray entertained himself with the tect. He had no lack of reading material, nor would he ever. The tect supplied him with movies, music, games, and almost everything else stored within TECT’s immense subterranean memory banks. Yet sometimes Murray wondered if this were the sort of goal toward which Grandpa Zalman had urged him with his eccentric scholarship.
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