by John Brunner
"Working with Albumarak has taught me that much," Yull replied. "And you'd agree, wouldn't you, Theng?"
"Of course!" was the bluff and prompt reply. "Our only problem is apt to be with the ones who ran away from Fregwil—because they've never learned the meaning of an honest day's work, and we have to support them until they do!"
"Things are going to change back home," said Presthin, her eye to the ocular. "Of course, as you know, I'm not from Fregwil myself, but I can state that for too long the self-indulgence of that city has offended the ordinary folk on Prutaj. It's been fun having the goodies they produced, but how many of them are directed at ensuring the survival of the folk? Since news of the wild planetoid broke there's been a radical shift of attitudes. I like the young'uns at Fregwil now, and I used to loathe them! By the way, tell me something, Scholar Yull."
"If I can."
"Do you honestly believe we can survive in space?"
"There it goes!"
A unison cry greeted fire blooming at the zenith. Karg's cylinder had reached altitude and was spearing into space. For a while no one could think of anything else but that slowly fading gleam.
When it had been masked by drifting cloud, Yull said, "Yes."
"What?" By then Presthin had forgotten her question.
"I said yes! We're very sure we can survive! It's as though evolution designed us for precisely the role we hope to play out there. Do you know much about biology?"
Unconsciously Presthin echoed what Karg had said to Albumarak: "I know a little about a lot of things!"
"Well, then, you doubtless know that there were once creatures on this planet that had rigid bodies. They supported their weight by using substances so stiff that they became brittle, like a dead tree, and had constantly to be renewed. Imagine what would happen to a species like that if they tried to survive without gravity! They'd become amorphous— they'd wither like spent luminants! But we..."
She spoke with swelling pride.
"We depend for our survival on nothing more than the tone of our musculature and our tubules! We can live underwater, where effectively one has no weight, and sometimes folk have returned after years without noticeable damage to their health. Karg was chosen for precisely that reason! In the imagery of the Mysteries of the Jingfired, which always have to do with forging metal, we are 'well and fitly shaped'!"
Karg's voice echoed from the control-house. Yull signaled for it to be relayed by loudeners, and instantly they knew he was exultant.
"Listen to me, you down there—listen to me! My name is Karg, and I'm in space, and I feel wonderful! I'm free at last! I'm not trapped on a lump of mud that may be smashed at any moment by gods playing at target-practice! I'm free!"
Suddenly grave, Yull was about to suggest that the level of euphoria be reduced, when Karg calmed of his own accord.
"But I'm not out here purely for the pleasure of it. I have a mission to perform. I'm to be the first inhabitant of another planet—a world we devised at Slah, which is just coming over my horizon, so I'm activating the maneuvering pumps—just a moment ... Done. If you're watching with telescopes, you'll be able to see my cylinder match orbits with the artificial world. And from there, using its farspeakers, I'm going to tell everybody the good news. You and I won't survive our system's passage through the Major Cluster. But we'd be long dead anyhow, remember! What I'm here to prove is that the species can!"
His voice rose in a jubilant crescendo as Albumarak and Presthin clutched each other, not knowing whether to laugh or sob.
"We can escape! We can survive! We shall!"
EPILOGUE
"And, of course, we did," said the preceptor.
Afterwards there was a long pause. Inevitably one of the youngest budlings broke it by demanding, loudly enough to be heard: "What became of the wild planetoid, then?"
"Wait!"
The center of the globe, where the marvels of modern technology had recreated Jing and Chybee, Yockerbow and Aglabec, all the characters famous and infamous from the long story of their species, swirled and blurred and resumed its original configuration.
Now, though, everything was in closer focus. The budworld was emphasized, the sun and planets far away. Then, from the threshold of infinity, the wild planetoid rushed in. For one pith-freezing moment, which even those who had witnessed the spectacle a score of times found fearful, it seemed as though they were about to crash!
A shift of perspective: they were back on the budworld. Its oceans were rising to the wild planet's tug, beating the shores and swamping the cities. The air wrought havoc with fantastic gales. Closeups revealed the naked panic of those who were caught up and burst to death.
The youngest of the budlings screamed in terror.
"Our species could have been destroyed," said the preceptor as the view shifted again. This time it could be seen how the wild planetoid swung past, disturbing the orbit of the moon, but sweeping by towards the belt of asteroids that ringed the sun.
"We think, but because it was hidden from our forebudders we'll never know, that it collided with an asteroid behind the sun. At all events, it did not reappear. But it had done harm enough. Had not the joint resources of both Slah and Fregwil been applied to launching vessels into space, it is beyond a doubt that by this time we'd be extinct. The show is over. Ponder the lessons that it teaches—all your lives!"
And suddenly the feigned imagery that had filled the center of the globe was replaced by the reality of what surrounded their fragile home. Beautiful, yet terrible, there loomed the Major Cluster, from which they were being borne away by the pressure of light from its exploding stars; there too was the Arc of Heaven which their forebudders had imagined to be the weapon of a god; there was the sun that had shone on the budworld, fading to the petty status of just another star...
And far beyond lay the safe dark deeps that they were steering for, where they were certain of energy, and the means to feed themselves and grow more drifting globes, choosing what they wanted from the resources of the galaxy.
"Yes?" said the preceptor to another young'un, knowing what question was invariably put.
"Scholar, do you think there's anybody else out there?"
"There's bound to be!"—with total confidence. "And when we meet them, we shall be able to stand proud on what we've done!"
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
John Brunner was born in England in 1934 and educated at Cheltenham College. He sold his first novel in 1951 and has been publishing sf steadily since then. His books have won him international acclaim from both mainstream and genre audiences. His most famous novel, the classic Stand on Zanzibar, won the Hugo Award for Best Novel in 1969, the British Science Fiction Award, and the Prix Apollo in France. Mr. Brunner lives in Somerset, England.