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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/30539-h.zip b/30539-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7d6c2c7 --- /dev/null +++ b/30539-h.zip diff --git a/30539-h/30539-h.htm b/30539-h/30539-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a31052a --- /dev/null +++ b/30539-h/30539-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1204 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Terrible Answer, by Arthur G. Hill + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1,h2,.hd1,.figr {text-align: center;} + h2,.bk1 {margin-bottom: 2em;} + .hd1 {margin-top: 2em;} + hr {width: 45%; margin: 2em auto; visibility: hidden;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .figr {float: right; clear: right; margin: 1em 0 1em 1em; padding: 0; width: 360px;} + img {border: none;} + a:link,a:visited {text-decoration: none;} + p.cap:first-letter {float: left; margin-right: .05em; padding-top: .05em; font-size: 300%; line-height: .8em; width: auto;} + .dcap {text-transform: uppercase;} + .figt {float: left; clear: left; margin: 15px; padding: 0; width: 136px;} + .trn {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; min-height: 230px;} + .trn p {margin: 15px;} + .sp1 {font-size: 125%;} + .bk1 {margin-right: 50%;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Terrible Answer, by Arthur G. Hill + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Terrible Answer + +Author: Arthur G. Hill + +Release Date: November 24, 2009 [EBook #30539] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TERRIBLE ANSWER *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="bk1"><p><big><i>They came to Mars inquiring after the +stuff of Empire. They got—</i></big></p></div> + +<h1><span class="sp1">The<br /> +TERRIBLE<br /> +ANSWER</span></h1> + +<h2>By Arthur G. Hill</h2> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">They</span> came down to Mars ahead +of the rest because Larkin had +bought an unfair advantage—a +copy of the Primary Report. There +were seven of them, all varying in +appearance, but with one thing in +common; in the eyes of each +glowed the greed for Empire. They +came down in a flash of orange tail-fire +and they looked first at the +Martians.</p> + +<p>"Green," marveled Evans. "What +a queer shade of green!"</p> + +<p>"Not important," Cleve, the psychologist, +replied. "Merely a matter +of pigmentation. White, yellow, +black, green. It proves only that +God loves variety."</p> + +<p>"And lord how they grin!"</p> + +<p>Cleve peered learnedly. "Doesn't +indicate a thing. They were born +with those grins. They'll die with +them."</p> + +<p>Of the seven strong men, Larkin +exuded the most power. Thus, his +role of leader was a natural one. +No man would ever stand in front +of Larkin. He said, "To hell with +color or the shape of their mouths. +What we're after lies inside. Come +on. Let's set up a camp."</p> + +<p>"For the time being," Cleve cautioned, +"we must ignore them. +Later—we know what to do. I'll +give the nod."</p> + +<p>They brought what they needed +out of the ship. They brought the +plastic tents, broke the small, attached +cylinders, and watched the +tents bulge up into living quarters. +They set up the vapor condenser +and it began filling the water tank +from the air about them. They +plugged a line into the ship and attached +it to the tent-line. Immediately +the gasses in the plastic tents +began to glow and give off both +light and heat.</p> + +<p>They did many things while the +Martians stood silently by with +their arms hanging, their splay-feet +flat on the ground, their slash-mouths +grinning.</p> + +<p>The seven sat down to their first +meal under the Martian stars and +while they ate the rich, delicate +foods, they listened to the words of +Larkin. "A new empire waiting to +be built. A whole planet—virgin—new."</p> + +<p>"Not new," Dane, the archeologist, +said. "It's older than Earth. It's +been worked before."</p> + +<p>Larkin waved an impatient +hand. "But hardly scratched. It can +have risen and fallen a thousand +times for all we care. The important +thing is the vital ingredient of +empire. Is it here? Can it be harnessed? +Are we or are we not, on +the threshold of wealth, splendor, +and progress so great as to take +away the breath?"</p> + +<p>And as Larkin spoke, all seven +men looked at the Martians; looked +covertly while appearing to study +the rolling plain and the purple +ridges far away; the texture of the +soil; the color of the sky; the food +on their plates; the steaming fragrance +of their coffee. They looked +at all these things but they studied +the Martians.</p> + +<p>"Stupid-looking animals," Evans +muttered. "Odd though. So like us—yet +so different."</p> + +<p>At first there had been only a +handful of Martians to grin at the +landing of the ship. Now they numbered +over a hundred, their ranks +augmented by stragglers who came +to stare with their fellows in happy +silence.</p> + +<p>"The prospects are excellent," +Cleve said. Then he jerked his attention +back to Larkin from whom +it had momentarily wandered. +When Larkin spoke, one listened.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Larkin</span> had been directing his +words toward a young man +named Smith. Smith had inherited +a great deal of money which was +fine. But Larkin wasn't too sure of +his qualifications otherwise. "—the +pyramids," Larkin was saying. +"Would they have ever been built +if the men up above—the men with +vision—had had to worry about a +payroll?"</p> + +<p>Smith regarded the Martians +with not quite the impersonal stare +of the other six Earthlings. Once or +twice he grinned back at them. "I'll +grant the truth of what you say," +he told Larkin, "but what good +were the pyramids? They're something +I could never figure."</p> + +<p>Smith had a sardonic twist of +mouth that annoyed Larkin. "Let's +not quibble, man. I merely used the +pyramids as an example. Call them +Empire; call them any Empire on +Earth from the beginning of known +history and let's face facts."</p> + +<p>"Facts?" Smith asked. He had +been looking at a six-foot-six Martian, +thinking what a magnificent +specimen he was. If only they'd +wipe off those silly grins.</p> + +<p>"Yes, facts. The building must +be done. It is a law of nature. Man +must progress or not. And what empire +can arise without free labor? +Can we develop this planet at +union scale? Impossible! Yet it's +crying to be developed."</p> + +<p>Cleve knocked the ashes off his +cigar and frowned. Being a man of +direct action, he inquired. "Do you +want your money back, Smith?"</p> + +<p>The latter shook his head. "Oh +no! Don't get me wrong, gentlemen. +I'm for empire first, last and +always. And if we can lay the +foundations of one on the backs of +these stupid creatures, I'm for it."</p> + +<p>"I still don't like your—"</p> + +<p>"My outspoken manner? Don't +give it a thought, old man. I just +don't want to be all cloyed up with +platitudes. If we're going to chain +the children of Israel into the house +of bondage, let's get on with it."</p> + +<p>"I don't like your attitude," Larkin +said stubbornly. "In the long +run, it will benefit these people."</p> + +<p>"Let's say, rather, that it may +benefit their children. I doubt if +these jokers will be around very +long after we start cracking the +whip."</p> + +<p>Dane was stirred. "The whip," +he murmured. "Symbol of empire." +But nobody heard him. They were +too busy listening to Larkin and +Smith—and watching the Martians.</p> + +<p>The Martians stood around grinning, +waiting patiently for something +to happen. Larkin's attitude +toward them had changed again. +First there had been curiosity. Then +a narrow-eyed calculation; now he +regarded them with contempt. The +careful, studied checks and tests +would be made of course. But Larkin, +a man of sure instincts, had already +made up his mind.</p> + +<p>He stretched luxuriously. "Let's +call it a day and turn in. Tomorrow +we'll go about the business at hand +with clearer heads."</p> + +<p>"A good idea," Cleve said, "but +first, one little gesture. I think it +would be judicious." He eyed the +Martians, settling finally upon one—a +male—standing close and +somewhat apart from the rest. +Cleve scowled. Standing erect, he +called, "Hey—you!" He interpreted +the words with a beckoning gesture +of his arm. "Come here! Here, boy! +Over here!"</p> + +<p>The Martian reacted with a +typically Earthian gesture. He +pointed to his own chest with one +green finger, while a questioning +expression reflected through the +eternal grin.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you! On the double."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The</span> Martian came forward. +There was in his manner a slight +hesitation, and Smith expected to +see his hind quarters wriggle like +that of a dog—uncertain, but eager +to please.</p> + +<p>Cleve pointed with a martinet +gesture toward the smoked-out +cigar butt he'd thrown to the +ground. "Pick it up!"</p> + +<p>The Martian stood motionless.</p> + +<p>"Pick—it—<i>up</i>, you stupid lout!"</p> + +<div class="figr"><img src="images/001.png" width="360" height="500" alt="" title="" /> +<i><small><b>Larkin—now beyond sanity—was +gibbering in the grave.</b></small></i></div> + +<p>The Martian understood. With +a glad little whimper, he bent over +and took the cigar butt in his hand.</p> + +<p>"There," Cleve said. "Garbage +can! Get it? <i>Garbage can.</i> Place for +trash—for cigar butts. Put it in +there."</p> + +<p>Smith wasn't sure whether the +grin deepened or not. He thought +it did, as the Martian laid the cigar +butt carefully into the trash can.</p> + +<p>"Okay, you fella," Cleve barked, +still scowling. "Back and away now. +Stay out there! Get it? Only come +when you're called."</p> + +<p>It took a few eloquent gestures, +including the pantomime of swinging +a whip, before the Martian understood +and complied. After he +backed into the circle of his fellows, +Cleve dropped the cruel overseer +manner and turned with satisfaction +to Larkin. "I think there will +be no trouble at all," he said. "Tomorrow +we'll really get down to +cases. I predict smooth sailing."</p> + +<p>They said goodnight to each +other and went about the business +of preparing for slumber. As he +raised the glowing flap of his tent, +Larkin saw Smith lounging in a +chair before the electric heat unit. +"Aren't you going to get some +sleep?"</p> + +<p>"In a little while. I'm going to +wait around until those two famous +moons come. Want to see them first +hand."</p> + +<p>"A waste of time," Larkin said. +"Better keep your mind on more +important things."</p> + +<p>"Goodnight," Smith said. Larkin +did not reply, and Smith turned his +head to look at the Martians. He +wondered where they had come +from. They probably had a village +somewhere over the rise. He regarded +them without fear or apprehension +of what might occur during +the sleeping hours. He had read the +Primary Report, brought back by +the pioneer expedition. These people +were entirely harmless. Also +they were possessed of remarkable +stamina. They had stood for days, +watching the first expedition, grinning +at it, without nourishment of +any kind.</p> + +<p>Maybe they live off the atmosphere, +Smith told himself dreamily. +At any rate, they were ideal +specimens to use as the foundation +stones of an empire. He lay back, +thinking of Larkin; he did not like +Larkin personally, but he had to +admire the steel in the man; the +unswerving determination that had +made him what he was.</p> + +<p>His mind drifted back to the +things of beauty around him. The +far purple ridges had changed now, +as a light bloomed behind them to +gleam like azure through old crystal. +Then the two moons shot over +the horizon; huge silver bullets riding +the thin atmosphere.</p> + +<p>The oldest planet. Had it ever +been great? Were the bones of any +dead civilizations mouldering beneath +this strange yellow soil? +Smith closed his eyes while the cool +Martian breezes soothed his face. +Greatness. What was greatness after +all? Merely a matter of viewpoint +perhaps.</p> + +<p>Smith got up and moved slowly +toward his tent. Out in the shadows +he could feel the grins of the Martians. +"Goodnight," he called.</p> + +<p>But there was no answer.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">"I put</span> them out there," Cleve +said. "It seemed as good a place +as any."</p> + +<p>"Fine," Larkin rumbled. He wore +boots and britches and a big, wide-brimmed +hat. He had on soft leather +gloves. He looked like an empire +builder.</p> + +<p>The Martians were standing +around grinning at the pile of +shovels lying in the fuzz-bush. The +Martians seemed interested and appeared +to communicate with one +another in some imperceptible manner.</p> + +<p>Larkin shoved through the circle +of green men, pushing rudely. He +stopped, picked up one of the +shovels; thrust it toward a Martian. +The Martian took it in his hands.</p> + +<p>"It's very important that you <i>tell</i> +them—that you don't show them," +Cleve said. "You must not do any +of the work yourself."</p> + +<p>"I'll handle it," Larkin snapped. +"Now, you—all of you! Grab a +shovel. Pick 'em up, see? Pick 'em +up! We've got work to do. A ditch +to dig."</p> + +<p>Larkin's pantomime was a universal +language. "We start the ditch +here. Right here—you fella! Get +digging! And put your back into +that shovel. Hit hard or maybe it +gives the whip—understand?" Larkin +made a threatening motion toward +the lash coiled at his belt.</p> + +<p>Smith, already on the scene, +turned as Evans and Dane arrived +carrying undefined plastic. They +snapped the cylinders and chairs +appeared; chairs—and a table upon +which Carter and Lewis, bringing +up the rear, placed a pitcher of +beer, glasses and a box of cigars.</p> + +<p>Cleve, the psychologist, looked +with satisfaction upon the string of +Martians manipulating the shovels. +"All right," he said. "Let's sit down. +Pour the beer, one of you."</p> + +<p>"Allow me," Smith said. He +fought to straighten the smile bending +his lips. He picked up the +pitcher and poured beer into the +glasses. It all seemed so absurd; +these grim-faced men acting out an +asinine tableau.</p> + +<p>Cleve caught the smile. "I wish +you'd take this seriously," he said. +"It's a mighty touchy and important +business."</p> + +<p>"Sorry," Smith said, raising his +glass. "Here's to empire."</p> + +<p>Larkin was striding up and down +the line of straining Martians. The +scowl had become a part of him.</p> + +<p><i>It's getting him</i>, Smith marveled. +<i>Act or no act, he likes it. Experiment +or not, he's in his element.</i></p> + +<p>The six men sat drinking their +beer and watching Larkin. But only +Cleve was aware of the skill with +which the man worked. The gradual +application of pressure; the +careful moving forward from bog +to bog with the path of retreat always +open. From sharpness to +brusqueness. From the brusque to +the harsh. From the harsh to the +brutal.</p> + +<p>"Will you tell me," Smith asked, +"why we have to sit here drinking +like a pack of fools? I don't like +beer."</p> + +<p>"I'm not enjoying it, either," +Cleve said. "But you can certainly +understand that the roles must be +set right from the beginning. They +must understand we are their masters, +so we must conduct ourselves +in that manner. Never any sign that +could be interpreted as compromise."</p> + +<p>Larkin, satisfied with the progress +of the entirely useless ditch, +came to the table and raised a glass +of beer. He wiped the foam from +his mustache and asked, "What do +you think?" directing the question +toward Cleve.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The</span> latter regarded the sweating +Martians with calculating eyes. +"It's going entirely as I predicted. +The next step is in order, I believe."</p> + +<p>"You think it's safe?"</p> + +<p>"I'm certain of it."</p> + +<p>Smith, studying Larkin, saw the +latter smile, and was again struck +by its quality.</p> + +<p><i>Whatever the test, Larkin's for it, +even above the call of scientific experimentation.</i></p> + +<p>Larkin was uncoiling the whip +from his belt. He strode toward the +fast-deepening ditch. He selected a +subject. "You—fella. You're lazy, +huh? You like to gold-brick it? +Then see how you like this!" He +laid the whip across the green +shoulders of the Martian.</p> + +<p>The Martian winced. He raised +an arm to shield off the whip. +Again it curled against his flesh. He +whimpered. His grin was stark, inquiring.</p> + +<p>"Hit that shovel, you green bastard!" +Larkin roared.</p> + +<p>The Martian understood. So did +the other Martians. Their muscles +quivered as they drove into their +work.</p> + +<p>Larkin came back, smiling—almost +dreamily, Smith thought. +Cleve said, "Excellent. I'd hardly +hoped for such conformity. Hardly +expected it."</p> + +<p>"You mean," Smith asked, "that +this little scene can be projected +from a dozen to a hundred? From +a hundred to a thousand—?"</p> + +<p>"From this little plot to the whole, +surface of the planet," Cleve said. +"The mass is nothing more than a +collection of individuals. Control +the individual and you've got the +mob. That is if you follow through +with the original method. Set the +hard pattern."</p> + +<p>"Then we're in—is that it? +They've passed every test with flying +colors."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure they will," Cleve said, +frowning. "But we must be thorough."</p> + +<p>"There's still another test?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. The test of final and complete +subservience. It must be proven +beyond all doubt that they know +their masters."</p> + +<p>"You don't think they're aware +yet that we <i>are</i> their masters?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure they know. It only remains +to be proven." Cleve glanced +up at Larkin. "Maybe this is as far +as we should go today. We've made +marvelous progress."</p> + +<p>That characteristic wave of Larkin's +hand; the gesture of the empire +builder brushing away mountains. +"Why wait? I want to get this +thing over with. You said yourself +they're under our thumb."</p> + +<p>Cleve pondered, staring at the +Martians. "Very well. There's really +no reason to wait."</p> + +<p>Larkin smiled and turned toward +the diggers, only half visible now +from the depths of the ditch. He +walked forward, appearing to exercise +more care, this time, in the +selection of his subject. Finally, he +pointed at one of the Martians. +"You—fella! Come here!"</p> + +<p>Several of them looked at one +another a trifle confused. "You—damn +it! What are you waiting +for?"</p> + +<p>One of them climbed slowly from +the trench. While he was engaged +in so doing, Smith noticed two +things. He saw the look of rage, +simulated or otherwise, that came +into Larkin's face. And he saw +Cleve's fingers tighten on the edge +of the table.</p> + +<p>Larkin had a gun in his fist; a +roar in his voice. "When I talk—you +jump! Get that? All of you!"</p> + +<p>He fired three bullets into the +Martian's brain. The latter slumped +grinning to the ground. Larkin, his +breath coming jerkily, stood poised +on the balls of his feet. The men at +the table sat frozen—waiting. +Around them—on the plain—some +two hundred Martians stood motionless.</p> + +<p><i>The final test</i>, Smith thought. <i>To +prove they're cattle.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">A full</span> minute passed after the +echo of the gun faded out. Silence.</p> + +<p>And nothing.</p> + +<p>The Earthmen picked up their +breathing where they'd dropped it. +Larkin's breath exploded in savage +voice—triumphant voice. The Martians +were his.</p> + +<p>"Come on, some of you! Dig a +hole and bury that carrion! And if +anybody still wonders who's boss +around here—let him step forward!"</p> + +<p>"They took it!" Cleve whispered. +"Glory be—they took it!"</p> + +<p>Four Martians climbed grinning +from the trench. They faced Larkin +and stood as though awaiting instructions.</p> + +<p>"Dig there," Larkin said.</p> + +<p>They went stolidly to work and +Larkin pocketed his gun, making +the pocketing a gesture of contempt.</p> + +<p>"You see," Cleve said, with the +tone of one explaining an abstract +problem, "we were at somewhat of +a disadvantage because they are incapable +of indicating emotion by +facial expression. Thus the last test +was necessary. If we could have +judged the degree of fear previously +instilled, that last might not have +been necessary."</p> + +<p>"Just as well to have a double +check nonetheless," Dane said. +"Look at them! You'd think nothing +out of the ordinary had happened."</p> + +<p>Larkin strode back to the table. +"Glad we got it over with," he said. +"Now we <i>know</i>. Cleve can head +back for Earth tomorrow. Initial +supplies will come to about twenty +million, I estimate. The rest of us +can stay here and really drive these +beggars. Get the foundations dug; +get the rock down from the hills."</p> + +<p>"A planet in glorious resurrection," +said Dane, the poet of the +group.</p> + +<p>"They've got the grave dug," +Cleve observed. "They're waiting +for orders."</p> + +<p>"Such cattle," Evans muttered.</p> + +<p>Larkin strode back to the grave. +He pointed. "Him—body into the +grave. Snap into it. We've got work +to do."</p> + +<p>The Martians put the body into +the grave.</p> + +<p>Then a tall, green man appeared +behind Larkin. He put his arms +around Larkin's body. Another +Martian took the gun from Larkin's +pocket.</p> + +<p>And they pushed the screaming +Earthman down into the grave.</p> + +<p>Smith sprang to his feet. "For +God's sake!"</p> + +<p>"Sit down, you fool!" Cleve +hissed. "Do you want to die? We've +miscalculated. Something's wrong."</p> + +<p>The big Martian was standing +on Larkin. The others threw in the +soil. Larkin, now beyond sanity, was +gibbering like an animal.</p> + +<p>Smith sat down. The Earthman +presented a frozen tableau. Soon +the gibbering could no longer be +heard and the big Martian stepped +out of the grave.</p> + +<p>"Leave everything," Cleve whispered. +"Get up very casually and +walk back to the ship. Get inside +it."</p> + +<p>"May God help us," Dane +quavered.</p> + +<p>"Shut up! Act natural."</p> + +<p>They went back and got into the +ship while the Martians stood +patiently about waiting for something +to happen. Their patience +was rewarded when the ship arose +on a great flaming tail from the surface +of the planet.</p> + +<p>It was a sight worth waiting for.</p> + +<p class="hd1">THE END</p> + +<div class="trn"><div class="figt"><a href="images/002-2.jpg"><img src="images/002-1.jpg" width="136" height="200" alt="" title="" /></a></div> + +<p><b><big>Transcriber's Note:</big></b></p> + +<p>This etext was produced from <i>If Worlds of Science Fiction</i> July 1952. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and +typographical errors have been corrected without note.</p></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Terrible Answer, by Arthur G. 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Hill + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Terrible Answer + +Author: Arthur G. Hill + +Release Date: November 24, 2009 [EBook #30539] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TERRIBLE ANSWER *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + _They came to Mars inquiring after the + stuff of Empire. They got--_ + + + The + TERRIBLE + ANSWER + + By Arthur G. Hill + + +They came down to Mars ahead of the rest because Larkin had bought an +unfair advantage--a copy of the Primary Report. There were seven of +them, all varying in appearance, but with one thing in common; in the +eyes of each glowed the greed for Empire. They came down in a flash of +orange tail-fire and they looked first at the Martians. + +"Green," marveled Evans. "What a queer shade of green!" + +"Not important," Cleve, the psychologist, replied. "Merely a matter of +pigmentation. White, yellow, black, green. It proves only that God loves +variety." + +"And lord how they grin!" + +Cleve peered learnedly. "Doesn't indicate a thing. They were born with +those grins. They'll die with them." + +Of the seven strong men, Larkin exuded the most power. Thus, his role of +leader was a natural one. No man would ever stand in front of Larkin. He +said, "To hell with color or the shape of their mouths. What we're after +lies inside. Come on. Let's set up a camp." + +"For the time being," Cleve cautioned, "we must ignore them. Later--we +know what to do. I'll give the nod." + +They brought what they needed out of the ship. They brought the plastic +tents, broke the small, attached cylinders, and watched the tents bulge +up into living quarters. They set up the vapor condenser and it began +filling the water tank from the air about them. They plugged a line into +the ship and attached it to the tent-line. Immediately the gasses in the +plastic tents began to glow and give off both light and heat. + +They did many things while the Martians stood silently by with their +arms hanging, their splay-feet flat on the ground, their slash-mouths +grinning. + +The seven sat down to their first meal under the Martian stars and while +they ate the rich, delicate foods, they listened to the words of Larkin. +"A new empire waiting to be built. A whole planet--virgin--new." + +"Not new," Dane, the archeologist, said. "It's older than Earth. It's +been worked before." + +Larkin waved an impatient hand. "But hardly scratched. It can have risen +and fallen a thousand times for all we care. The important thing is the +vital ingredient of empire. Is it here? Can it be harnessed? Are we or +are we not, on the threshold of wealth, splendor, and progress so great +as to take away the breath?" + +And as Larkin spoke, all seven men looked at the Martians; looked +covertly while appearing to study the rolling plain and the purple +ridges far away; the texture of the soil; the color of the sky; the food +on their plates; the steaming fragrance of their coffee. They looked at +all these things but they studied the Martians. + +"Stupid-looking animals," Evans muttered. "Odd though. So like us--yet +so different." + +At first there had been only a handful of Martians to grin at the +landing of the ship. Now they numbered over a hundred, their ranks +augmented by stragglers who came to stare with their fellows in happy +silence. + +"The prospects are excellent," Cleve said. Then he jerked his attention +back to Larkin from whom it had momentarily wandered. When Larkin spoke, +one listened. + + * * * * * + +Larkin had been directing his words toward a young man named Smith. +Smith had inherited a great deal of money which was fine. But Larkin +wasn't too sure of his qualifications otherwise. "--the pyramids," +Larkin was saying. "Would they have ever been built if the men up +above--the men with vision--had had to worry about a payroll?" + +Smith regarded the Martians with not quite the impersonal stare of the +other six Earthlings. Once or twice he grinned back at them. "I'll grant +the truth of what you say," he told Larkin, "but what good were the +pyramids? They're something I could never figure." + +Smith had a sardonic twist of mouth that annoyed Larkin. "Let's not +quibble, man. I merely used the pyramids as an example. Call them +Empire; call them any Empire on Earth from the beginning of known +history and let's face facts." + +"Facts?" Smith asked. He had been looking at a six-foot-six Martian, +thinking what a magnificent specimen he was. If only they'd wipe off +those silly grins. + +"Yes, facts. The building must be done. It is a law of nature. Man must +progress or not. And what empire can arise without free labor? Can we +develop this planet at union scale? Impossible! Yet it's crying to be +developed." + +Cleve knocked the ashes off his cigar and frowned. Being a man of direct +action, he inquired. "Do you want your money back, Smith?" + +The latter shook his head. "Oh no! Don't get me wrong, gentlemen. I'm +for empire first, last and always. And if we can lay the foundations of +one on the backs of these stupid creatures, I'm for it." + +"I still don't like your--" + +"My outspoken manner? Don't give it a thought, old man. I just don't +want to be all cloyed up with platitudes. If we're going to chain the +children of Israel into the house of bondage, let's get on with it." + +"I don't like your attitude," Larkin said stubbornly. "In the long run, +it will benefit these people." + +"Let's say, rather, that it may benefit their children. I doubt if these +jokers will be around very long after we start cracking the whip." + +Dane was stirred. "The whip," he murmured. "Symbol of empire." But +nobody heard him. They were too busy listening to Larkin and Smith--and +watching the Martians. + +The Martians stood around grinning, waiting patiently for something to +happen. Larkin's attitude toward them had changed again. First there had +been curiosity. Then a narrow-eyed calculation; now he regarded them +with contempt. The careful, studied checks and tests would be made of +course. But Larkin, a man of sure instincts, had already made up his +mind. + +He stretched luxuriously. "Let's call it a day and turn in. Tomorrow +we'll go about the business at hand with clearer heads." + +"A good idea," Cleve said, "but first, one little gesture. I think it +would be judicious." He eyed the Martians, settling finally upon one--a +male--standing close and somewhat apart from the rest. Cleve scowled. +Standing erect, he called, "Hey--you!" He interpreted the words with a +beckoning gesture of his arm. "Come here! Here, boy! Over here!" + +The Martian reacted with a typically Earthian gesture. He pointed to his +own chest with one green finger, while a questioning expression +reflected through the eternal grin. + +"Yes, you! On the double." + + * * * * * + +The Martian came forward. There was in his manner a slight hesitation, +and Smith expected to see his hind quarters wriggle like that of a +dog--uncertain, but eager to please. + +Cleve pointed with a martinet gesture toward the smoked-out cigar butt +he'd thrown to the ground. "Pick it up!" + +The Martian stood motionless. + +"Pick--it--_up_, you stupid lout!" + +[Illustration: _Larkin--now beyond sanity--was gibbering in the +grave._] + +The Martian understood. With a glad little whimper, he bent over and +took the cigar butt in his hand. + +"There," Cleve said. "Garbage can! Get it? _Garbage can._ Place for +trash--for cigar butts. Put it in there." + +Smith wasn't sure whether the grin deepened or not. He thought it did, +as the Martian laid the cigar butt carefully into the trash can. + +"Okay, you fella," Cleve barked, still scowling. "Back and away now. +Stay out there! Get it? Only come when you're called." + +It took a few eloquent gestures, including the pantomime of swinging a +whip, before the Martian understood and complied. After he backed into +the circle of his fellows, Cleve dropped the cruel overseer manner and +turned with satisfaction to Larkin. "I think there will be no trouble at +all," he said. "Tomorrow we'll really get down to cases. I predict +smooth sailing." + +They said goodnight to each other and went about the business of +preparing for slumber. As he raised the glowing flap of his tent, Larkin +saw Smith lounging in a chair before the electric heat unit. "Aren't you +going to get some sleep?" + +"In a little while. I'm going to wait around until those two famous +moons come. Want to see them first hand." + +"A waste of time," Larkin said. "Better keep your mind on more important +things." + +"Goodnight," Smith said. Larkin did not reply, and Smith turned his head +to look at the Martians. He wondered where they had come from. They +probably had a village somewhere over the rise. He regarded them without +fear or apprehension of what might occur during the sleeping hours. He +had read the Primary Report, brought back by the pioneer expedition. +These people were entirely harmless. Also they were possessed of +remarkable stamina. They had stood for days, watching the first +expedition, grinning at it, without nourishment of any kind. + +Maybe they live off the atmosphere, Smith told himself dreamily. At any +rate, they were ideal specimens to use as the foundation stones of an +empire. He lay back, thinking of Larkin; he did not like Larkin +personally, but he had to admire the steel in the man; the unswerving +determination that had made him what he was. + +His mind drifted back to the things of beauty around him. The far purple +ridges had changed now, as a light bloomed behind them to gleam like +azure through old crystal. Then the two moons shot over the horizon; +huge silver bullets riding the thin atmosphere. + +The oldest planet. Had it ever been great? Were the bones of any dead +civilizations mouldering beneath this strange yellow soil? Smith closed +his eyes while the cool Martian breezes soothed his face. Greatness. +What was greatness after all? Merely a matter of viewpoint perhaps. + +Smith got up and moved slowly toward his tent. Out in the shadows he +could feel the grins of the Martians. "Goodnight," he called. + +But there was no answer. + + * * * * * + +"I put them out there," Cleve said. "It seemed as good a place as any." + +"Fine," Larkin rumbled. He wore boots and britches and a big, +wide-brimmed hat. He had on soft leather gloves. He looked like an +empire builder. + +The Martians were standing around grinning at the pile of shovels lying +in the fuzz-bush. The Martians seemed interested and appeared to +communicate with one another in some imperceptible manner. + +Larkin shoved through the circle of green men, pushing rudely. He +stopped, picked up one of the shovels; thrust it toward a Martian. The +Martian took it in his hands. + +"It's very important that you _tell_ them--that you don't show them," +Cleve said. "You must not do any of the work yourself." + +"I'll handle it," Larkin snapped. "Now, you--all of you! Grab a shovel. +Pick 'em up, see? Pick 'em up! We've got work to do. A ditch to dig." + +Larkin's pantomime was a universal language. "We start the ditch here. +Right here--you fella! Get digging! And put your back into that shovel. +Hit hard or maybe it gives the whip--understand?" Larkin made a +threatening motion toward the lash coiled at his belt. + +Smith, already on the scene, turned as Evans and Dane arrived carrying +undefined plastic. They snapped the cylinders and chairs appeared; +chairs--and a table upon which Carter and Lewis, bringing up the rear, +placed a pitcher of beer, glasses and a box of cigars. + +Cleve, the psychologist, looked with satisfaction upon the string of +Martians manipulating the shovels. "All right," he said. "Let's sit +down. Pour the beer, one of you." + +"Allow me," Smith said. He fought to straighten the smile bending his +lips. He picked up the pitcher and poured beer into the glasses. It all +seemed so absurd; these grim-faced men acting out an asinine tableau. + +Cleve caught the smile. "I wish you'd take this seriously," he said. +"It's a mighty touchy and important business." + +"Sorry," Smith said, raising his glass. "Here's to empire." + +Larkin was striding up and down the line of straining Martians. The +scowl had become a part of him. + +_It's getting him_, Smith marveled. _Act or no act, he likes it. +Experiment or not, he's in his element._ + +The six men sat drinking their beer and watching Larkin. But only Cleve +was aware of the skill with which the man worked. The gradual +application of pressure; the careful moving forward from bog to bog with +the path of retreat always open. From sharpness to brusqueness. From the +brusque to the harsh. From the harsh to the brutal. + +"Will you tell me," Smith asked, "why we have to sit here drinking like +a pack of fools? I don't like beer." + +"I'm not enjoying it, either," Cleve said. "But you can certainly +understand that the roles must be set right from the beginning. They +must understand we are their masters, so we must conduct ourselves in +that manner. Never any sign that could be interpreted as compromise." + +Larkin, satisfied with the progress of the entirely useless ditch, came +to the table and raised a glass of beer. He wiped the foam from his +mustache and asked, "What do you think?" directing the question toward +Cleve. + + * * * * * + +The latter regarded the sweating Martians with calculating eyes. "It's +going entirely as I predicted. The next step is in order, I believe." + +"You think it's safe?" + +"I'm certain of it." + +Smith, studying Larkin, saw the latter smile, and was again struck by +its quality. + +_Whatever the test, Larkin's for it, even above the call of scientific +experimentation._ + +Larkin was uncoiling the whip from his belt. He strode toward the +fast-deepening ditch. He selected a subject. "You--fella. You're lazy, +huh? You like to gold-brick it? Then see how you like this!" He laid the +whip across the green shoulders of the Martian. + +The Martian winced. He raised an arm to shield off the whip. Again it +curled against his flesh. He whimpered. His grin was stark, inquiring. + +"Hit that shovel, you green bastard!" Larkin roared. + +The Martian understood. So did the other Martians. Their muscles +quivered as they drove into their work. + +Larkin came back, smiling--almost dreamily, Smith thought. Cleve said, +"Excellent. I'd hardly hoped for such conformity. Hardly expected it." + +"You mean," Smith asked, "that this little scene can be projected from a +dozen to a hundred? From a hundred to a thousand--?" + +"From this little plot to the whole, surface of the planet," Cleve said. +"The mass is nothing more than a collection of individuals. Control the +individual and you've got the mob. That is if you follow through with +the original method. Set the hard pattern." + +"Then we're in--is that it? They've passed every test with flying +colors." + +"I'm sure they will," Cleve said, frowning. "But we must be thorough." + +"There's still another test?" + +"Yes. The test of final and complete subservience. It must be proven +beyond all doubt that they know their masters." + +"You don't think they're aware yet that we _are_ their masters?" + +"I'm sure they know. It only remains to be proven." Cleve glanced up at +Larkin. "Maybe this is as far as we should go today. We've made +marvelous progress." + +That characteristic wave of Larkin's hand; the gesture of the empire +builder brushing away mountains. "Why wait? I want to get this thing +over with. You said yourself they're under our thumb." + +Cleve pondered, staring at the Martians. "Very well. There's really no +reason to wait." + +Larkin smiled and turned toward the diggers, only half visible now from +the depths of the ditch. He walked forward, appearing to exercise more +care, this time, in the selection of his subject. Finally, he pointed at +one of the Martians. "You--fella! Come here!" + +Several of them looked at one another a trifle confused. "You--damn it! +What are you waiting for?" + +One of them climbed slowly from the trench. While he was engaged in so +doing, Smith noticed two things. He saw the look of rage, simulated or +otherwise, that came into Larkin's face. And he saw Cleve's fingers +tighten on the edge of the table. + +Larkin had a gun in his fist; a roar in his voice. "When I talk--you +jump! Get that? All of you!" + +He fired three bullets into the Martian's brain. The latter slumped +grinning to the ground. Larkin, his breath coming jerkily, stood poised +on the balls of his feet. The men at the table sat frozen--waiting. +Around them--on the plain--some two hundred Martians stood motionless. + +_The final test_, Smith thought. _To prove they're cattle._ + + * * * * * + +A full minute passed after the echo of the gun faded out. Silence. + +And nothing. + +The Earthmen picked up their breathing where they'd dropped it. Larkin's +breath exploded in savage voice--triumphant voice. The Martians were +his. + +"Come on, some of you! Dig a hole and bury that carrion! And if anybody +still wonders who's boss around here--let him step forward!" + +"They took it!" Cleve whispered. "Glory be--they took it!" + +Four Martians climbed grinning from the trench. They faced Larkin and +stood as though awaiting instructions. + +"Dig there," Larkin said. + +They went stolidly to work and Larkin pocketed his gun, making the +pocketing a gesture of contempt. + +"You see," Cleve said, with the tone of one explaining an abstract +problem, "we were at somewhat of a disadvantage because they are +incapable of indicating emotion by facial expression. Thus the last test +was necessary. If we could have judged the degree of fear previously +instilled, that last might not have been necessary." + +"Just as well to have a double check nonetheless," Dane said. "Look at +them! You'd think nothing out of the ordinary had happened." + +Larkin strode back to the table. "Glad we got it over with," he said. +"Now we _know_. Cleve can head back for Earth tomorrow. Initial supplies +will come to about twenty million, I estimate. The rest of us can stay +here and really drive these beggars. Get the foundations dug; get the +rock down from the hills." + +"A planet in glorious resurrection," said Dane, the poet of the group. + +"They've got the grave dug," Cleve observed. "They're waiting for +orders." + +"Such cattle," Evans muttered. + +Larkin strode back to the grave. He pointed. "Him--body into the grave. +Snap into it. We've got work to do." + +The Martians put the body into the grave. + +Then a tall, green man appeared behind Larkin. He put his arms around +Larkin's body. Another Martian took the gun from Larkin's pocket. + +And they pushed the screaming Earthman down into the grave. + +Smith sprang to his feet. "For God's sake!" + +"Sit down, you fool!" Cleve hissed. "Do you want to die? We've +miscalculated. Something's wrong." + +The big Martian was standing on Larkin. The others threw in the soil. +Larkin, now beyond sanity, was gibbering like an animal. + +Smith sat down. The Earthman presented a frozen tableau. Soon the +gibbering could no longer be heard and the big Martian stepped out of +the grave. + +"Leave everything," Cleve whispered. "Get up very casually and walk back +to the ship. Get inside it." + +"May God help us," Dane quavered. + +"Shut up! Act natural." + +They went back and got into the ship while the Martians stood patiently +about waiting for something to happen. Their patience was rewarded when +the ship arose on a great flaming tail from the surface of the planet. + +It was a sight worth waiting for. + + +THE END + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _If Worlds of Science Fiction_ July + 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and + typographical errors have been corrected without note. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Terrible Answer, by Arthur G. 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