by James Blish
had asked him a question.
"Each of the five of us differed," he said. "I held that you werenot--not real except as symbols of some abstract truth. One of us, thewisest, believed that you did not exist in any sense at all. But we allagreed that you were not gods."
"And of course we aren't," Jarl Eleven said. "We're men. We come fromthe same stock as you. We're not your rulers, but your brothers. Do youunderstand what I say?"
"No," Honath admitted.
"Then let me tell you about it. There are men on many worlds, Honath.They differ from one another, because the worlds differ, and differentkinds of men are needed to people each one. Gerhardt and I are the kindof men who live on a world called Earth, and many other worlds like it.We are two very minor members of a huge project called a 'seedingprogram', which has been going on for thousands of years now. It's thejob of the seeding program to survey newly discovered worlds, and thento make men suitable to live on each new world."
"To make men? But only gods--"
"No, no. Be patient and listen," said Jarl Eleven. "We don't make men.We make them suitable. There's a great deal of difference between thetwo. We take the living germ plasm, the sperm and the egg, and we modifyit. When the modified man emerges, we help him to settle down in his newworld. That's what we did on Tellura--it happened long ago, beforeGerhardt and I were even born. Now we've come back to see how you peopleare getting along, and to lend a hand if necessary."
He looked from Honath to Mathild, and back again. "Do you understand?"he said.
"I'm trying." Honath said. "But you should go down to the jungle-top,then. We're not like the others; they are the people you want to see."
"We shall, in the morning. We just landed here. But, just because you'renot like the others, we're more interested in you now. Tell me, has anycondemned man ever escaped from the jungle floor before you people?"
"No, never. That's not surprising. There are monsters down there."
Jarl Eleven looked sidewise at the other Giant. He seemed to be smiling."When you see the films," he remarked, "you'll call that theunderstatement of the century. Honath, how did you three manage toescape, then?"
Haltingly at first, and then with more confidence as the memories camecrowding vividly back, Honath told him. When he mentioned the feast atthe demon's nest, Jarl Eleven again looked significantly at Adler, buthe did not interrupt.
"And finally we got to the top of the chimney and came out on this flatspace," Honath said. "Alaskon was still with us then, but when he sawyou and the metal thing he threw himself back down the cleft. He was acriminal like us, but he should not have died. He was a brave man, and awise one."
"Not wise enough to wait until all the evidence was in," Adler saidenigmatically. "All in all, Jarl, I'd say 'prodigious' is the word forit. This is easily the most successful seeding job any team has everdone, at least in this limb of the galaxy. And what a stroke of luck, tobe on the spot just as it came to term, and with a couple at that!"
"What does he mean?" Honath said.
"Just this, Honath. When the seeding team set your people up in businesson Tellura, they didn't mean for you to live forever in the treetops.They knew that, sooner or later, you'd have to come down to the groundand learn to fight this planet on its own terms. Otherwise, you'd gostale and die out."
"Live on the ground all the time?" Mathild said in a faint voice.
"Yes, Mathild. The life in the treetops was to have been only an interimperiod, while you gathered knowledge you needed about Tellura and put itto use. But to be the real masters of the world, you will have toconquer the surface, too.
"The device your people worked out, that of sending criminals to thesurface, was the best way of conquering the planet that they could havepicked. It takes a strong will and courage to go against custom, andboth those qualities are needed to lick Tellura. Your people exiled justsuch fighting spirits to the surface, year after year after year.
"Sooner or later, some of those exiles were going to discover how tolive successfully on the ground and make it possible for the rest ofyour people to leave the trees. You and Honath have done just that."
"Observe please, Jarl," Adler said. "The crime in this first successfulcase was ideological. That was the crucial turn in the criminal policyof these people. A spirit of revolt is not quite enough, but couple itwith brains and--_ecce homo_!"
Honath's head was swimming. "But what does all this mean?" he said. "Arewe--not condemned to Hell any more?"
"No, you're still condemned, if you still want to call it that," JarlEleven said soberly. "You've learned how to live down there, and you'vefound out something even more valuable: how to stay alive while cuttingdown your enemies. Do you know that you killed three demons with yourbare hands, you and Mathild and Alaskon?"
"Killed--"
"Certainly," Jarl Eleven said. "You ate three eggs. That is theclassical way, and indeed the only way, to wipe out monsters like thedinosaurs. You can't kill the adults with anything short of an anti-tankgun, but they're helpless in embryo--and the adults haven't the sense toguard their nests."
Honath heard, but only distantly. Even his awareness of Mathild's warmthnext to him did not seem to help much.
"Then we have to go back down there," he said dully. "And this timeforever."
"Yes," Jarl Eleven said, his voice gentle. "But you wont be alone,Honath. Beginning tomorrow, you'll have all your people with you."
"_All_ our people? But you're going to drive them out?"
"All of them. Oh, we won't prohibit the use of the vine-webs too, butfrom now on your race will have to fight it out on the surface as well.You and Mathild have proven that it can be done. It's high time the restof you learned, too."
"Jarl, you think too little of these young people themselves," Adlersaid. "Tell them what is in store for them. They are frightened."
"Of course, of course. It's obvious. Honath, you and Mathild are theonly living individuals of your race who know how to survive down thereon the surface. And we're not going to tell your people how to do that.We aren't even going to drop them so much as a hint. That part of it isup to you."
Honath's jaw dropped.
"It's up to you," Jarl Eleven repeated firmly. "We'll return you to yourtribe tomorrow, and we'll tell your people that you two know the rulesfor successful life on the ground--and that everyone else has to go downand live there too. We'll tell them nothing else but that. What do youthink they'll do then?"
"I don't know," Honath said dazedly. "Anything could happen. They mighteven make us Spokesman and Spokeswoman--except that we're just commoncriminals."
"Uncommon pioneers, Honath. The man and the woman to lead the humanityof Tellura out of the attic, into the wide world." Jarl Eleven got tohis feet, the great light playing over him. Looking up after him, Honathsaw that there were at least a dozen other Giants standing just outsidethe oval of light, listening intently to every word.
"But there's a little time to be passed before we begin," Jarl Elevensaid. "Perhaps you two would like to look over our ship."
Humbly, but with a soundless emotion much like music inside him, Honathtook Mathild's hand. Together they walked away from the chimney to Hell,following the footsteps of the Giants.