WE WOULD LIKE TO HAVE YOU TEST OUR THEORY. THERE ARE DOZENS OF WAYS. IF YOU ARE STUMPED AND NEED SUGGESTIONS, JUST LET US KNOW. WE AWAIT WORD FROM YOU WITH GREAT INTEREST.
SS II
By now, Kaiser had accepted what had happened to him. His distress and anxiety were gone and he was impatient to do what he could to establish better contact with his uninvited tenant. With eager anticipation, he set to thinking how it could be done. After a few minutes, an idea occurred to him.
Taking a small scalpel from a medical kit, he made a shallow cut in his arm, just deep enough to bleed freely. He knew that the pain would supply the necessary glandular reaction. The cut bled a few slow drops—and as Kaiser watched, a shiny film formed and the bleeding stopped.
That checked pretty well with the ship’s theory.
Perhaps the symbiote had made his senses more acute. He tried closing his eyes and fingering several objects in the room. It seemed to him that he could determine the texture of each better than before, but the test was inconclusive. Walking to the rear of the scout, he tried reading the printed words on the instrument panel. Each letter stood out sharp and clear!
Kaiser wondered if he might not make an immediate, practical use of the symbiote’s apparent desire to help him. Concentrating on the discomfort of the high humidity and exaggerating his own displeasure with it, he waited. The result surprised and pleased him.
The temperature within the scout cabin seemed to lower, the moisture on his body vanished, and he was more comfortable than he had yet been here.
As a double check, he looked at the ship’s thermometer. Temperature 102, humidity 113—just about the same as it had been on earlier readings.
* * * *
During the next twenty-four hours, Kaiser and the mother ship exchanged messages at regular six-hour intervals. In between, he worked at repairing the damaged scout. He had no more success than before.
He tired easily and lay on the cot often to rest. Each time he seemed to drop off to sleep immediately—and awake at the exact times he had decided on beforehand. At first, despite the lack of success in straightening the bent metal of the scout bottom, there had been a subdued exhilaration in reporting each new discovery concerning the symbiote, but as time passed, his enthusiasm ebbed. His one really important problem was how to repair the scout and he was fast becoming discouraged.
At last Kaiser could bear the futility of his efforts no longer. He sent out a terse message to the Soscites II:
TAKING SHORT TRIP TO ANOTHER LOCATION ON RIVER. HOPE TO FIND MORE INTELLIGENT NATIVES. COULD BE THAT THE SETTLEMENT I FOUND HERE IS ANALOGOUS TO TRIBE OF MONKEYS ON EARTH. I KNOW THE CHANCE IS SMALL, BUT WHAT HAVE I TO LOSE? I CAN’T FIX SCOUT WITHOUT BETTER TOOLS, AND IF MY GUESS IS RIGHT, I MAY BE ABLE TO GET EQUIPMENT. EXPECT TO RETURN IN TEN OR TWELVE HOURS. PLEASE KEEP CONTACT WITH SCOUT.
SMOKY
Kaiser packed a mudsled with tent, portable generator and guard wires, a spare sidearm and ammunition, and food for two days. He had noticed that a range of high hills, which caused the bend in the river at the native settlement, seemed to continue its long curve, and he wondered if the hills might not turn the river in the shape of a giant horseshoe. He intended to find out.
Wrapping his equipment in a plastic tarp, Kaiser eased it out the doorway and tied it on the sled. He hooked a towline to a harness on his shoulders and began his journey—in the opposite direction from the first native settlement.
He walked for more than seven hours before he found that his surmise had been correct. And a second cluster of huts, and seal-people in the river, greeted his sight. He received a further pleasant surprise. This group was decidedly more advanced than the first!
They were little different in actual physical appearance; the change was mainly noticeable in their actions and demeanor. And their odor was more subdued, less repugnant.
By signs, Kaiser indicated that he came in peace, and they seemed to understand. A thick-bodied male went solemnly to the river bank and called to a second, who dived and brought up a mouthful of weed. The first male took the weed and brought it to Kaiser. This was obviously a gesture of friendship.
The weed had a white starchy core and looked edible. Kaiser cleaned part of it with his handkerchief, bit and chewed it.
The weed had a slight iron taste, but was not unpalatable. He swallowed the mouthful and tried another. He ate most of what had been given him and waited with some trepidation for a reaction.
* * * *
As dusk fell, Kaiser set up his tent a few hundred yards back from the native settlement. All apprehension about how his stomach would react to the river weed had left him. Apparently it could be assimilated by his digestive system. Lying on his air mattress, he felt thoroughly at peace with this world.
Once, just before dropping off to sleep, he heard the snuffling noise of some large animal outside his tent and picked up a pistol, just in case. However, the first jolt of the guard-wire charge discouraged the beast and Kaiser heard it shuffle away, making puzzled mewing sounds as it went.
The next morning, Kaiser left off all his clothes except a pair of shorts and went swimming in the river. The seal-people were already in the water when he arrived and were very friendly.
That friendliness nearly resulted in disaster. The natives crowded around as he swam—they maneuvered with an otterlike proficiency—and often nudged him with their bodies when they came too close. He had difficulty keeping afloat and soon turned and started back. As he neared the river edge, a playful female grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him under.
Kaiser tried to break her hold, but she evidently thought he was clowning and wrapped her warm furred arms around him and held him helpless. They sank deeper.
When his breath threatened to burst from his lungs in a stream of bubbles, and he still could not free himself, Kaiser brought his knee up into her stomach and her grip loosened abruptly. He reached the surface, choking and coughing, and swam blindly toward shore until his feet hit the river bottom.
As he stood on the bank, getting his breath, the natives were quiet and seemed to be looking at him reproachfully. He stood for a time, trying to think of a way to explain the necessity of what he had done, but there was none. He shrugged helplessly.
There was no longer anything to be gained by staying here—if they had the tools he needed, he had no way of finding out or asking for them—and he packed and started back to the scout.
Kaiser’s good spirits returned on his return journey. He had enjoyed the relief from the tedium of spending day after day in the scout, and now he enjoyed the exercise of pulling the mudsled. Above the waist, he wore only the harness and the large, soft drops of rain against his bare skin were pleasant to feel.
When he reached the scout, Kaiser began to unload the sled. The tarpaulin caught on the edge of a runner and he gave it a tug to free it. To his amazement, the heavy sled turned completely over, spilling the equipment to the ground.
Perplexed, Kaiser stooped and began replacing the spilled articles in the tarp. They felt exceptionally light. He paused again, and suddenly his eyes widened.
Moving quickly to the door of the scout, he shoved his equipment through and crawled in behind it. He did not consult the communicator, as he customarily did on entering, but went directly to the warped place on the floor and picked up the crowbar he had laid there.
Inserting the bar between the metal of the scout bottom and the engine casing, he lifted. Nothing happened. He rested a minute and tried again, this time concentrating on his desire to raise the bar. The metal beneath yielded slightly—but he felt the palms of his hands bruise against the lever.
Only after he dropped the bar did he realize the force he had exerted. His hands ached and tingled. His strength must have been increased tremendously. With his plastic coat wrapped around the lever, he tried again. The metal of the scout bottom gave slowly—until the fuel pump hung free!
Kaiser did not repair the tube immediately. He let the so
lution rest in his hands, like a package to be opened, the pleasure of its anticipation to be enjoyed as much as the final act.
He transmitted the news of what he had been able to do and sat down to read the two messages waiting for him.
The first was quite routine:
REPORTS FROM THE OCTOPUS INDICATE THAT BIG MUDDY UNDERGOES RADICAL WEATHER-CYCLE CHANGES DURING SPRING AND FALL SEASONS, FROM EXTREME MOISTURE TO EXTREME ARIDITY. AT HEIGHT OF DRY SEASON, PLANET MUST BE COMPLETELY DEVOID OF SURFACE LIQUID.
TO SURVIVE THESE UNUSUAL EXTREMES, SEAL-PEOPLE WOULD NEED EXTREME ADAPTABILITY. THIS VERIFIES OUR EARLIER GUESS THAT NATIVES HAVE SYMBIOSIS WITH THE SAME VIRUS FORM THAT INVADED YOU. WITH SYMBIOTES’ AID, SUCH RADICAL PHYSICAL CHANGE COULD BE POSSIBLE. WILL KEEP YOU INFORMED.
GIVE US ANY NEW INFORMATION YOU MIGHT HAVE ON NATIVES.
SS II
The second report was not so routine. Kaiser thought he detected a note of uneasiness in it.
SUGGEST YOU DEVOTE ALL TIME AND EFFORT TO REPAIR OF SCOUT. INFORMATION ON SEAL-PEOPLE ADEQUATE FOR OUR PURPOSES.
SS II
Kaiser did not answer either communication. His earlier report had covered all that he had learned lately. He lay on his cot and went to sleep.
In the morning, another message was waiting:
VERY PLEASED TO HEAR OF PROGRESS ON REPAIR OF SCOUT. COMPLETE AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE AND RETURN HERE IMMEDIATELY.
SS II
Kaiser wondered about the abrupt recall. Could the Soscites II be experiencing some difficulty? He shrugged the thought aside. If they were, they would have told him. The last notes had had more than just a suggestion of urgency—there appeared to be a deliberate concealing of information.
Strangely, the messages’ indicated need for haste did not prod Kaiser. He knew now that the job could be done, perhaps in a few hours’ time. And the Soscites II would not complete its orbit of the planet for two weeks yet.
Without putting on more than the shirt and trousers he had grown used to wearing, Kaiser went outside and wandered listlessly about the vicinity of the ship for several hours. When he became hungry, he went back inside.
Another message came in as he finished eating. This one was from the captain himself:
WHY HAVE WE RECEIVED NO VERIFICATION OF LAST INSTRUCTIONS? REPAIR SCOUT IMMEDIATELY AND RETURN WITHOUT FURTHER DELAY. THIS IS ANORDER!
H. A. HESSE, CAPT.
Kaiser pushed the last of his meal—which he had been eating with his fingers—into his mouth, crumpled the tape, wiped the grease from his hands with it and dropped it to the floor.
He pondered mildly, as he packed his equipment, why he was disregarding the captain’s message. For some reason, it seemed too trivial for serious consideration. He placated his slightly uneasy conscience only to the extent of packing the communicator in with his other equipment. It was a self-contained unit and he’d be able to receive messages from the ship on his trip.
* * * *
The tracks of his earlier journey had been erased by the soft rain, and when Kaiser reached the river, he found that he had not returned to the village he had visited the day before. However, there were other seal-people here.
And they were almost human!
The resemblance was still not so much in their physical makeup—that was little changed from the first he had found—as in their obviously greater intelligence.
This was mainly noticeable in their facile expressions as they talked. Kaiser was even certain that he read smiles on their faces when he slipped on a particularly slick mud patch as he hurried toward them. Where the members of the first tribes had all looked almost exactly alike, these had very marked individual characteristics. Also, these had no odor—only a mild, rather pleasing scent. When they came to meet him, Kaiser could detect distinct syllabism in their pipings.
Most of the natives returned to the river after the first ten minutes of curious inspection, but two stayed behind as Kaiser set up his tent.
One was a female.
They made small noises while he went about his work. After a time, he understood that they were trying to give names to his paraphernalia. He tried saying “tent” and “wire” and “tarp” as he handled each object, but their piping voices could not repeat the words. Kaiser amused himself by trying to imitate their sounds for the articles. He was fairly successful. He was certain that he could soon learn enough to carry on a limited conversation.
The male became bored after a time and left, but the girl stayed until Kaiser finished. She motioned to him then to follow. When they reached the river bank, he saw that she wanted him to go into the water.
Before he had time to decide, Kaiser heard the small bell of the communicator from the tent behind him. He stood undecided for a moment, then returned and read the message on the tape:
STILL ANXIOUSLY AWAITING WORD FROM YOU.
IN MEANTIME, GIVE VERY CLOSE ATTENTION TO FOLLOWING.
WE KNOW THAT THE SYMBIOTES MUST BE ABLE TO MAKE RADICAL CHANGES IN THE PHYSIOLOGY OF THE SEAL-PEOPLE. THERE IS EVERY PROBABILITY THAT YOURS WILL ATTEMPT TO DO THE SAME TO YOU—TO BETTER FIT YOUR BODY TO ITS PRESENT ENVIRONMENT.
THE DANGER, WHICH WE HESITATED TO MENTION UNTIL NOW—WHEN YOU HAVE FORCED US BY YOUR OBSTINATE SILENCE—IS THAT IT CAN ALTER YOUR MIND ALSO.
YOUR REPORT ON SECOND TRIBE OF SEAL-PEOPLE STRONGLY INDICATES THAT THIS IS ALREADY HAPPENING. THEY WERE PROBABLY NOT MORE INTELLIGENT AND HUMANLIKE THAN THE OTHERS. ON THE CONTRARY, YOU ARE BECOMING MORE LIKE THEM.
DANGER ACUTE. RETURN IMMEDIATELY. REPEAT: IMMEDIATELY!
SS II
Kaiser picked up a large rock and slowly, methodically pounded the communicator into a flattened jumble of metal and loose parts.
When he finished, he returned to the waiting girl on the river bank. She pointed at his plastic trousers and made laughing sounds in her throat. Kaiser returned the laugh and stripped off the trousers. They ran, still laughing, into the water.
Already the long pink hair that had been growing on his body during the past week was beginning to turn brown at the roots.
I TAKE THIS EARTHMAN
Originally appeared in Fantastic Adventures, Nov. 1950.
Within the womb the fetus stirred uneasily. It did not realize that it thought; its associations were too few. It knew only darkness, hunger, satisfaction of that hunger, and sleep.
Having never seen light, it did not realize that it did not see. Hunger it recognized as a want, sometimes a pain. It did not know what caused the pain or why it went away.
The body of the female was its warmth, its blanket, that often changed positions and sometimes moved. Now for the first time it understood that this blanket contained life. It was no longer alone, the only creature in its universe.
Weeks before it had felt strength come into its hitherto helpless limbs. Dully it wondered why. It had no need for the strength.
Now the flesh walls of its blanket contracted and lengthened. From somewhere came a new sensation—sound. Sound that rose to a high, shrill peak of agony.
For hours it was tossed about by the contortions of the suffering female. Abruptly now it was fighting a sharp constriction that ran the length of its body and then it was free. It cried once in fear and longing for its lost refuge and after that one time was quiet. Gradually its eyes focused and it saw the creature lying at its side.
“My son,” the woman said, as she lifted him in her wasted arms.
For months the doctors had fought the ravages of cancer and to keep life in the woman’s body, until the child could be born. The mother fought with them. The life she could not have for much longer she wanted to give to her child. Her blood would flow in its veins. It would live to fulfill the dreams that were now lost to her forever.
When it became apparent that the baby would live and be well, the mother slept—for the first time in two months—but forever!
The woman had not known sleep since the night she had stolen.
Vaguely she had understood w
hat her father said about his, as yet unnamed, stimulant-essence. She knew that he had at last succeeded in isolating it from the alcohol spirits, where it had lain unsuspected for so many years, as had the vitamins in food. It was still an unknown quality, with unlimited possibilities, but practically untried.
Her father’s first expectations were that it would cure insanity not caused by physical defects. He had received permission to experiment on two of the hopelessly insane in the State Asylum.
The first had reacted with a momentary cure. Within two minutes, however, the man returned to his raving. An hour later he died. Brain concussion.
The mind of the second had been unchanged by the stimulant. The reaction came in the form of violent muscular exertion. Even when bound to his bed the insane man continued to twitch and jerk. Until death came every muscle in his body, as though possessing a life of its own, suffered a continuous spasm. Medical verdict: Death by extreme exhaustion.
She knew that she must have the stimulant-essence!
Like a suffering animal she had stolen—that she might die and kill the maddening pain with her death. When she found that, though the drug did not kill the pain, it gave her a fierce, hard courage with which to fight the pitiless agony, new hope came. Not hope that she would live; that hope had been blotted out, never to be resurrected; but possible hope that she would be able to bear her child.
The stimulant gave her the extension of life for which she prayed, but exacted its retribution from the tissues of her body. Her metabolism burned quickly and her corporal substance went to feed the greed of its flames.
She won the race with her dying body, and as little Arthur Gabriel was born, the pangs of childbirth changed almost imperceptibly into the last flutterings of death.
When Arthur was three weeks old he could understand the conversation about him, though the muscles of his throat were not sufficiently developed for them to form words of speech. He spoke twenty-seven days later.
The 19th Golden Age of Science Fiction Page 36