by Arkady
“It is difficult for me to speak right now,” he began. “Difficult because, for one thing, circumstances demand lofty rhetoric and words that are not only precise but also solemn. However, here on earth, lofty words have suffered from inflation in the past century. So I will aim only for accuracy. You offer us friendship and cooperation in all aspects of civilization. This offer is unprecedented in the history of man, just as the fact of the arrival of a creature from another planet is unprecedented and our answer to your offer is unprecedented. We answer with a refusal on all points of the agreement you offer, we categorically refuse to offer any counteragreement, we categorically demand a complete end to any contact whatsoever between our civilizations and between individual representatives of them. We wish to announce that we find the idea of contact between two different civilizations in the cosmos to be fruitful and promising in principle. We wish to stress that the idea of contact has long been held as one of the most cherished and noble goals of our humanity. We wish to assure you that our refusal in no way must be seen by you as a hostile act, based on hidden enmity or connected in any way with physiological or other instinctual prejudices. We would like you to know the reasons for our refusal, and for you to understand and if not approve, then at least to keep them in mind.”
Vybegallo and Farfurkis had their eyes fixed on Lavr Fedotovich. Khlebovvodov received an answer to his last note, put the cards together in a neat pile, and also looked at Lavr Fedotovich.
“The inequality between our two civilizations is enormous,” continued Lavr Fedotovich. “I’m not speaking of biological differences—nature bestowed a greater wealth upon you than upon us. There’s no need to speak of social inequalities—you have long passed the stage of social development that we are just entering. And of course, I do not speak of scientific and technological inequalities—even the most conservative estimates put you several centuries ahead of us. I will speak about the direct result of these three aspects of inequality—about the gigantic psychological inequality that in fact is the major reason for the failure of our negotiations.
“We are separated by a gigantic revolution in mass psychology, preparations for which we have only begun and which you have probably already forgotten. This psychological gulf does not allow us to obtain a correct understanding of the aims of your arrival. We do not understand how our friendship and cooperation could benefit you. We have only emerged from a state of constant warfare, from a world of bloodshed and violence, from a world of lies, baseness, and greed; we have not yet washed off the dirt of that world. When we come up against a phenomenon that our reason cannot yet grasp, when all we have at our command is our vast but as yet not assimilated experience, our psychology prompts us to create a model of the phenomenon in our own image. Crudely put, we do not trust you the way that we still do not trust each other.
“Our mass psychology is based on egotism, utilitarianism, and mysticism. The establishment and development of contact with you first of all threatens unthinkable complications of the already complex situation on our planet. Our egotism, our anthropocentrism, the thousand years of education by religions and naive philosophers who taught us to trust in our primordial superiority, in our uniqueness, and in our privileged position in the universe—all this suggests that there will be a monstrous psychological shock, an irrational hatred of you, a hysterical fear of the unimaginable possibilities that you present, a feeling of sudden debasement, and a dread that the rulers of nature have been dethroned.
“Our utilitarianism will lead to a desire in the majority of our people to participate in the wealth of material progress, obtained without effort, for free, and will turn many to parasitism and consumerism, and God knows, we have trouble enough struggling against this as a result of our own scientific and technological progress. As for our ingrained mysticism, for our age-old hope for benevolent gods, benevolent tsars, and benevolent heroes, our hopes for the intervention of a trustworthy authority who would relieve us of all our cares and responsibilities, as for this reverse side of the coin of our egotism, I think that you cannot even imagine what the results of your appearance on our planet would be.
“I hope that you can see now that permission for contact would destroy what little we have managed to do to prepare the way for a revolution in psychology. And you must understand that the cause of our refusal lies not in you, not in your good points or in your bad—the cause is only in our unpreparedness. We understand this perfectly well, and while categorically turning from contact with you today, we do not plan to make this position permanent. Therefore, on our part, we propose…”
Lavr Fedotovich raised his voice, and everyone stood.
“We propose that exactly fifty years after your takeoff a meeting be held between authorized representatives of both civilizations on the north pole of the planet Pluto. We hope that by that time we will be better prepared to undertake a thought-out and fruitful cooperative venture between our civilizations.”
Lavr Fedotovich finished, and we all sat down. Only Khlebovvodov and the visitor remained standing.
“While subscribing wholly and completely to the content and form of the statement of the chairman,” Khlebovvodov said harshly and drily, “I feel it my duty, however, to leave no doubt in the mind of the other party of our determination to use all our might to resist contact until the agreed-upon time. While completely acknowledging the technological, and therefore military, superiority of your civilization, I nevertheless feel it is my duty to leave no room for misunderstanding: any attempt to force contact upon us will be seen from the moment of your takeoff as an act of aggression and will be met with the entire power of earth’s armaments. Any ship that appears in the range of our military might will be destroyed without warning.”
“Is that enough?” asked Eddie in a whisper.
Everyone froze, as if in a photograph.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It seems a pity. I could listen forever.”
“It did come out rather well, didn’t it?” said Eddie. “But I must stop it. Such an expenditure of brain energy…”
He turned off the humanizer, and Farfurkis started whining immediately.
“Comrades! It’s impossible to work, what are we doing?”
Vybegallo chewed on his lip, looked around blankly, and scratched his beard.
“That’s right!” Khlebovvodov said and sat down. “We have to finish up. I’m in the minority here, but who am I? It doesn’t matter! If you don’t want to turn him over to the police, then don’t. But rationalizing this trickster as an unexplained phenomenon is pointless. Big deal, so he grew himself another two arms.”
“It isn’t taking!” Eddie said bitterly. “It’s rough going, Alex. They have no humanity, these plumbers.”
“Harrumph,” said Lavr Fedotovich, and delivered a short speech that made it clear that the public did not need unexplained phenomena that could, but would not for one reason or another, present the credentials that proved that they were unexplained. On the other hand, the people have long demanded a ruthless paring down of bureaucratic red tape in all departments. Therefore, Lavr Fedotovich expressed his opinion that the examination of Case 72 should be postponed until December of this year in order to give Comrade K. K. Konstantinov time to get back to his permanent residence and return with the appropriate documents. As for giving Comrade K. K. Konstantinov material aid, the Troika has the right to give such aid or to facilitate it only in those instances where the request comes from what has been certified by the Troika as an unexplained phenomenon. And since Comrade K. K. Konstantinov has not yet been certified as such, then the question of giving him aid is also postponed until December—and more precisely, until the moment of his certification.
The Great Round Seal did not appear on the scene and I heaved a sigh of relief. Konstantin, who never did grasp the situation fully and who had been getting angrier and angrier, spat demonstratively on the floor, very humanly, and disappeared.
“That’s an attack!” Khlebovvod
ov shouted gleefully. “Did you see him spit? The whole floor is wet!”
“That’s disgusting!” Farfurkis concurred. “I consider this an insult!”
“I told you he was a crook!” said Khlebovvodov. “We have to call the police. Let them give him fifteen days, let him sweep the streets with his four hands.”
“No, no, Comrade Khlebovvodov,” Farfurkis argued. “This is no police matter anymore, you underestimate the gravity of the situation. This was spitting in the face of the public and the administration. He should be tried!”
Lavr Fedotovich did not speak, but his freckled fingers were agitatedly scampering across the table—he was looking for some button, or maybe the telephone. It began to reek of political crime. Vybegallo, who didn’t give a damn about Konstantin, did not respond. I coughed and asked for their attention. Attention was granted, but not very readily—their eyes were glistening excitedly, their fur was bristling, their fangs were ready to tear, and their claws to scratch.
Trying to speak as pompously as possible, I reminded the Troika that it was in their interest to hold galactocentric and not anthropocentric positions. I pointed out that the customs and expressions of emotion might and probably do differ greatly in extraterrestrial creatures. I fell back on the weary analogy of the customs of the different tribes and peoples of Planet Earth. I expressed my confidence that Comrade Farfurkis would not be satisfied with rubbing noses for a greeting, in common usage among several northern peoples, but neither would he consider such rubbing to be degrading to his position as a member of the Troika. As for Comrade Konstantinov, the custom of spitting out a liquid of a certain chemical composition that forms in the oral cavity, a custom that among several peoples of the earth signifies dissatisfaction, irritation, or the desire to insult one’s interlocutor, might and must mean completely the opposite for an extraterrestrial creature, including gratitude for your attention. The so-called spitting of Comrade Konstantinov could also have been a purely neutral act, related to the physiological functioning of his organism.
“Don’t give me that function stuff!” shouted Khlebovvodov. “He spat all over the floor, the bandit, and ran away!”
“And finally,” I concluded, ignoring him, “we must not rule out the possibility that the above-mentioned physiological act of Comrade Konstantinov might have been an action connected with his lightning-like movement through space.”
I was warbling like a nightingale and watched with relief as Lavr Fedotovich’s fingers kept slowing down, finally coming to rest on the blotter. Khlebovvodov was still barking threats, but the sensitive Farfurkis had caught the change in the wind and brought the brunt of the blow on an unexpected victim. He suddenly attacked the commandant, who, thinking himself safe from danger, was enjoying the spectacle with simple curiosity.
“I have long been noticing,” thundered Farfurkis, “that the educational system in the Colony of Unexplained Phenomena is very poorly organized. There are almost no political education lectures. The visual aids in agitation reflect yesterday’s lessons. The Evening Institute of Culture barely functions. All of the cultural events in the Colony boil down to dances, foreign films, and tacky variety shows. The slogan-making industry has fallen into neglect. The colonists are left to their own devices, many of them are morally bankrupt, almost no one understands the international situation, and the most backward of the colonists, for example, the ghost of one Weiner, do not even comprehend where they are. The results are amoral behavior, hooliganism, and complaints from the populace. The day before yesterday Kuzma the Pterodactyl left the territory of the Colony and, definitely not sober, flew over the Club of Working Youth, biting off the bulbs that spell out WELCOME. One Nikolai Dolgonosikov, self-styled telepathist and spiritualist, tricked his way into the women’s dormitory of the pedagogical technicum and carried on discussions and actions that were classified by the administration as religious propaganda. And today we have run across another sad consequence of Comrade Zubo’s criminally negligent attitude toward education and propaganda as commandant of the Colony. Whatever the meaning of Comrade Konstantinov’s expectoration of liquids found in his oral cavity, it proves that he does not fully appreciate where he is and how he must behave, and this in turn proves that it is the fault of Comrade Zubo, who has not taught the colonists the meaning of the folk saying ‘Don’t bring your own rules to somebody else’s monastery.’ And I feel that we must warn Comrade Zubo and order him to raise the level of educational work in the Colony that is entrusted to him!”
Farfurkis tapered off, and Khlebovvodov took on the commandant. His speech was muddled, but full of vague hints and threats so terrifying that the commandant faltered completely and openly swallowed pills. Khlebovvodov bellowed: “I’ll show you! Don’t you understand, or are you completely crazy?”
“Harrumph,” said Lavr Fedotovich finally and began setting matters straight. Comrade Zubo was reprimanded for behavior unworthy of the Troika, expressed in the expectoration by Comrade Konstantinov, and also for losing the administrative aura. Comrade K. K. Konstantinov was given a warning for walking on the ceiling and walls in his shoes. Farfurkis was given a verbal reprimand for always going over the time limit when he had the floor, and Khlebovvodov for violating administrative ethics by trying to lie to Comrade K. K. Konstantinov. Vybegallo was reprimanded verbally for appearing at the session unshaven.
“Are there any other motions?” inquired Lavr Fedotovich. Khlebovvodov immediately leaned over and whispered in his ear. Lavr Fedotovich listened and then added: “There is a motion to remind certain representatives from below to participate more actively in the work of the Troika.”
Now everybody had gotten it. No one had been forgotten, and nothing had been overlooked. The atmosphere cleared up, and everyone, including the commandant, cheered up. Only Eddie frowned, deep in thought.
“Next,” said Lavr Fedotovich. “Report, Comrade Zubo.”
“Case 2,” read the commandant. “Surname: Blank. Name: Blank. Patronymic: Blank. Nickname: Kuzma. Year and place of birth: Uncertain. Probably the Congo.”
“What is he, mute?” asked Khlebovvodov jovially.
“He doesn’t know how to talk. He only quacks.”
“Has he been that way from birth?”
“I would assume so.”
“That means poor heredity,” Khlebovvodov grumbled. “That’s why he became a bandit. Is there a criminal record?”
“Whose?” the confused commandant asked. “Mine?”
“No, why yours? Does he have one, that bandit? What’s his nickname? Vaska?”
“I protest,” said Farfurkis. “Comrade Khlebovvodov is operating under the mistaken prejudice that only bandits have nicknames. However, the regulations state in Paragraph 8, Chapter 4, Part 2, that nicknames will be given to phenomena classified as animate creatures without reason.”
“Ah!” said the disappointed Khlebovvodov, “it’s some dog, I guess. And I thought it was a bandit. When I was in charge of the box office of the Mutual Aid Fund of Theater Figures under the auspices of the VTO, I had a bookkeeper…”
“I protest!” Farfurkis wailed. “This is in violation of the regulations! We won’t get out of here before nightfall!”
Khlebovvodov glanced at his watch.
“That’s right,” he said. “Forgive me. Go ahead, brother, where did you stop?”
“Point five. Nationality: Pterodactyl.”
They all shuddered, but it was getting late, and no one said a word.
“Education: Blank,” continued the commandant. “Knowledge of foreign languages: Blank. Profession and place of work at present time: Blank. Have you been abroad? Probably.”
“Oh, that’s bad,” Khlebovvodov muttered. “Bad! Oh, vigilance! A pterodactyl, you say? What color? Is he white or black?”
“He’s sort of gray.”
“Aha!” said Khlebovvodov. “And he can’t talk. Only quacks. Well, all right, go on.”
“Brief summary of the unexplainable: considere
d to be extinct fifty million years ago.”
“How many?” Farfurkis demanded.
“Fifty million it says here,” the commandant said.
“That can’t be serious,” Farfurkis grumbled and looked at his watch. “Read on,” he moaned. “Read on.”
“Data on close relatives: Probably all died out. Place of permanent residence: Kitezhgrad, Colony of Unexplained Phenomena.”
“Has he been given papers?” Khlebovvodov demanded severely.
“Sort of. When he arrived he was written in the register of honored visitors, and he’s been here ever since. You might say that Kuzma has grown to live here.” A tender note had crept into the commandant’s voice. It was obvious Kuzma was his protégé.
“Is that all?” inquired Lavr Fedotovich. “Then there is a motion to call in the case.”
There were no other motions. The commandant pulled back the curtains and called lovingly:
“Here, Kuz, Kuz, Kuz, here boy. There he is, sitting on a chimney, the bum,” he said tenderly. “He’s shy, very shy. Kuz, Kuz, Kuz, here. He’s coming,” he announced, stepping away from the window.
There was a leathery rustle and a whistle, a huge shadow blocked the sky for a second, and Kuzma, his membranes quivering, smoothly lowered himself onto the demonstration table. He folded up his wings, raised his head, opened his big toothy jaw, and quacked softly.
“He’s saying hello,” the commandant explained. “He’s very polite, the little bugger. Understands everything.”
Kuzma looked over the Troika, met the deathly gaze of Lavr Fedotovich, and suddenly became terribly shy. He tucked his head under his wing, hiding his jaws on his chest, and peeked out from under his leathery wings with one eye—it was a huge green anachronistic eye. He was a dream, that Kuzma. Of course, on an unprepared person, he could have a terrifying effect. Just to be safe, Khlebovvodov dropped a pencil under the table and slid down after it. “I thought it would be a quacking dog or something,” he muttered.