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+ The Project Gutenberg eBook of Earthsmith, by Milton Lesser.
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Earthsmith, by Milton Lesser
+
+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: Earthsmith
+
+Author: Milton Lesser
+
+Release Date: June 1, 2010 [EBook #32641]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EARTHSMITH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/>
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+
+<h1>EARTHSMITH</h1>
+
+<h2>By Milton Lesser</h2>
+
+<p>[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of
+Science and Fantasy January 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any
+evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="sidenote">Nobody at the Interstellar Space School had ever heard of
+Earth so naturally they treated Smith with contempt&mdash;or was it an innate
+fear?...</div>
+
+
+<p>Someone in the crowd tittered when the big ungainly creature reached the
+head of the line.</p>
+
+<p>"Name?"</p>
+
+<p>The creature swayed back and forth foolishly, supporting the bulk of his
+weight first on one extremity and then on the other. His face which had
+a slight rosy tint anyway got redder.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, come. Planet? Name?" The registrar was only a machine, but the
+registrar could assume an air of feminine petulance. "We want to keep
+the line moving, so if you will please&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The creature drew a deep breath and let the two words come out in a
+rush. "Earth, Smith," he said. Being nervous, he could not modulate his
+voice. Unable to modulate his voice, he heard the words come out too
+deep, too loud.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you hear that voice?" demanded the man who had tittered. "On a cold
+wet night they say the karami of Caulo boom like that. And look at
+Earthsmith. Just look at him. I ask you, what can they accept at the
+school and still call it a school? Hey you, Earthsmith, what courses
+will you take?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," the creature confessed. "That's what I'm here for. I
+don't even know what they teach at the school."</p>
+
+<p>"He doesn't know." More tittering.</p>
+
+<p>The registrar took all this in impassively, said: "What planet,
+Earthsmith?"</p>
+
+<p>The creature was still uncomfortable. "Earth. Only my name is not
+Earthsmith. Smith&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The titterer broke into a loud guffaw. "Earthsmith doesn't even know
+what planet he's from. Good old Earthsmith." He was a small thin man,
+this titterer, with too-bright eyes, vaguely purple skin, and a
+well-greased shock of stiff green hair.</p>
+
+<p>Smith squared his wide shoulders and looked into the colored lights of
+the registrar. "It's a mistake. My name is Smith."</p>
+
+<p>"What planet, Smith?"</p>
+
+<p>"Earth. The planet Earth." Smith had a rosy, glistening bald head and a
+hairless face. A little bead of sweat rolled into his left eye and made
+him blink. He rubbed his eye.</p>
+
+<p>"Age?" The machine had a way of asking questions suddenly, and Smith
+just stared.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me your age. Age. How old are you?"</p>
+
+<p>Smith wanted to sit down, only there were no chairs. Just the room with
+its long line of people behind him, and the machine up front. The
+registrar.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm twenty-seven."</p>
+
+<p>"Twenty-seven what?"</p>
+
+<p>"You asked me my age. I'm twenty-seven years old, and three months."</p>
+
+<p>Except for the clicking of the machine, there was a silence. The voice
+of the machine, feminine again, seemed confused when it spoke. "I cannot
+correlate years, Smith of Earth. How old are you?"</p>
+
+<p>It wasn't an ordeal, really, but Smith felt more uncomfortable every
+moment. Was the machine making fun of him? If it were, then it had an
+ally in the crowd, because the man who had tittered was laughing again,
+the green shock of hair on his head bobbing up and down.</p>
+
+<p>"Earthsmith doesn't even know how old he is. Imagine."</p>
+
+<p>The machine, which was more feminine than not, asked Smith how far the
+planet Earth was from its primary, and what the orbital speed of the
+planet was. Smith told her, but again the terminology was not capable of
+correlation.</p>
+
+<p>"Unclassified as to age, Smith. It's not important. I wonder, are you
+dominant or receptive?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm a man. Male. Dom&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"That doesn't matter. Smith, tell me, how long has it been since anyone
+from the planet Earth has attended the school?"</p>
+
+<p>Smith said he didn't know, but, to his knowledge, no one from Earth had
+ever been here. "We don't get around much any more. It's not that we
+can't. We just go and then we don't like it, so we come back to Earth."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, from the looks of you I would say you are a receptive. Very
+definitely receptive, Smith." Given sufficient data, the registrar could
+not be wrong. Given sufficient data the registrar could tell you
+anything you wanted to know, provided the answer could be arrived at
+from the data itself. "The male and female distinction no longer holds,
+of course. On some planets the female is dominant, on some she's not.
+It's generally according to the time of colonization, Smith. When was
+Earth colonized?"</p>
+
+<p>"It wasn't."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean, it wasn't?"</p>
+
+<p>"We were always there. We colonized the rest of the galaxy. Long ago."</p>
+
+<p>The registrar clicked furiously, expressed itself still more femininely
+this time. "Oh, that planet! You certainly are the first, Smith. The
+very first here at the school. Room 4027, dominant companion." Neuter
+voice again. "That's all, Smith of Earth. Next."</p>
+
+<p>The vaguely purple-skinned man stood before the registrar, winked at the
+flashing lights. "You know, now I can see what they mean when we're told
+of a missing link in the chain between man and animal. Old
+Earthsmith...."</p>
+
+<p>"Name?" said the machine.</p>
+
+<p>The man pointed at Smith, shook with silent laughter. The back of
+Smith's head, which could not properly be called bald because he had
+never had any hair on it, was very red.</p>
+
+<p>"Name's Jorak."</p>
+
+<p>"Planet?" demanded the fully neuter machine.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>There was the red star, a monstrous blotch of crimson swollen and
+brooding on the horizon and filling a quarter of the sky. There was the
+fleck of white high up near the top of the red giant, its white-dwarf
+companion in transit. These were the high jagged crags, falling off
+suddenly to the sundered, frothy sea with its blood-red sun-track fading
+to pink and finally to gray far away on either side.</p>
+
+<p>Smith watched the waves break far below him, and he almost stumbled when
+someone tapped his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"That was mean of the man named Jorak." She might have been a woman of
+Earth, except that she was too thin, cast in a too-delicate mould. Yet
+beautiful.</p>
+
+<p>Smith shrugged, felt the heat rise to his face and knew that he must
+have looked like a mirror for the red sun.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that really a blush, Smith? Are you blushing?"</p>
+
+<p>He nodded. "I can't help it. I&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be foolish. I don't want you to stop. I think it looks nice."</p>
+
+<p>Smith rubbed his pate, watched the hot wind blow the girl's yellow hair
+about her face. "They tell me my great great grandfather had a little
+fringe of hair around his head. I've seen pictures."</p>
+
+<p>"How nice&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"If you're trying to make fun of me, please go away. It wasn't nice, it
+was ugly. Either you have hair or you don't. The men of Earth used to
+have it, long ago. The women still do."</p>
+
+<p>She changed the subject. "I'll bet you think this place is ugly, Smith."</p>
+
+<p>Smith shook his head. "No, it's stark. If you like things that way, it
+isn't really ugly. But Earth is a planet of green rolling hills and soft
+rains and&mdash;you're making fun of me."</p>
+
+<p>"You say that again and I'll take it as an insult." She smiled. "We have
+our green rolling hills on Bortinot, only it's cold. I like it here
+because it's warm. And, of course, I have a lot to learn at school."</p>
+
+<p>"Would you think I'm stupid if I ask you what?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. And you were really serious in there when you said you didn't know
+what they teach."</p>
+
+<p>"How could I know? I'm the first student here from Earth. Every five
+years&mdash;say, twenty times during the course of one lifetime&mdash;we get the
+application. This time the government finally decided someone should go.
+Me."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, they teach just about everything that could be of value in a
+transtellar culture."</p>
+
+<p>"What?"</p>
+
+<p>"Things like astrogation and ethics&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I caught the school express at a Denebian planet. Someone told me there
+that the school is decadent."</p>
+
+<p>She smiled up at him. "Deneb is a slothful place, then. It is true that
+the school never stands still, changing its courses to meet the demands
+of a changing society. If Deneb cannot keep pace with the changes, that
+could explain the feeling. Right now they'll be concentrating in dreams
+and dream-empathy, in some of the newer Garlonian dances, Sarchian
+cooking for the receptives and Wortan fighting for the dominants. Quite
+a virile program, Smith, provided one is up to it."</p>
+
+<p>"What happened to your astrogation and ethics?"</p>
+
+<p>"That? Oh, that's just a catch-all phrase. Your courses will depend on
+such things as your D or R classifications&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"It makes me laugh a little," Smith admitted. "But they've classified me
+as a receptive. I guess they know what they're doing. Still&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You think you're strong, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I didn't see anyone in the registrar's room who would worry me
+very much in a fight."</p>
+
+<p>"Society is sophisticated, Smith. There's more to strength than mere
+brawn. What sort of psi-powers have they cultivated on the planet
+Earth?"</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>In a general sense, but in a general sense only, Smith knew what she
+meant. "Well, there's hypnotism, and some people play at telepathy and
+clairvoyance. Nothing much, really."</p>
+
+<p>"That isn't much, my friend."</p>
+
+<p>"Why? What else is there?" Smith smiled for the first time. "I didn't
+know&mdash;" He shook his head, suddenly, to clear it. He felt tilted. He
+looked and he saw that everything was straight, but still he felt
+tilted. He tried to right himself, and down he went. On his stomach he
+lay, his legs twisted under him a little. Foolishly, he tried to get up.
+He couldn't.</p>
+
+<p>"There's that." The girl laughed. "Suggestion without the need for
+hypnotism."</p>
+
+<p>Smith stood up, said, "I see what you mean."</p>
+
+<p>"Think so?"</p>
+
+<p>It began to rain. A brisk wind came up abruptly, and off in the distance
+Smith heard the roar of thunder. It came closer. Still closer. Like in a
+straight line. Smith watched the lightnings prance.</p>
+
+<p>"We'd better get back to the school!" he cried. He didn't think she
+could hear his voice above the thunder. He started to shout again, but
+lightning crackled before his eyes. Between him and the girl. Something
+rumbled, and Smith started to fall. They had been blasted off the crag,
+and now they hurtled down through the sheets of hot rain....</p>
+
+<p>"Feel yourself," the girl told him. The huge crimson sun still sat on
+the horizon. The air was hot and warm and Smith was dry.</p>
+
+<p>"Suggestion," she smiled again. "Most of us have it to some degree, but
+we of Bortinot have it still more. Still think you should be a
+dominant?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;" The girl's face swam before his eyes. Lovely. Smith took a step
+forward, reached out and placed his big hands on her shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"Well what?" She was smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"What's your name?"</p>
+
+<p>"Geria."</p>
+
+<p>His lips were big and hers were little, if full. He quivered as he
+kissed her. "I love you, Geria."</p>
+
+<p>"I know it," she said.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>"The reason I went outside to watch the sea," Smith said, "was because I
+didn't know how to get to room 4027. I didn't want to ask anyone, not
+after&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"That makes sense. I'll take you, Smith. I'm just down the hall from
+you, anyway."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, Geria." Smith wondered how he knew her name was Geria. Nice
+name. "What happened after I thought there was a storm, Geria?" Smith
+suppressed a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, nothing much. I just planted another suggestion in your mind. For
+now you've forgotten, but you will remember. Shall we go?"</p>
+
+<p>They walked back down the path from the top of the crag, and soon Smith
+saw other students in groups of two and three. Ahead was the long low
+school, a dull rectangle of metal perhaps two miles long and half as
+wide. With Geria, Smith entered through one of the hundreds of doorways
+and followed her wordlessly up a mechanical staircase.</p>
+
+<p>They flashed past many landings, and after a time Smith followed the
+girl across one of them and into a long hall.</p>
+
+<p>"Simple," she said. "You have the twenty-seventh room here on the
+fortieth floor. Mine is room eighteen. Will we be seeing more of each
+other, Smith?"</p>
+
+<p>"As much as you'd like," he said, but it made him feel foolish. He had
+merely spoken to the girl for a few minutes, and yet he could not quite
+fathom his emotions. To some extent she had made him feel the same as
+had the man Jorak, and yet she liked him. She wanted to see more of him.
+She said so.</p>
+
+<p>"Smith, you're blushing again. I tell you what: if you can do that every
+day, then I will see you every day. It's so nice and&mdash;unaffected."</p>
+
+<p>Was that the word she really had in mind? Smith remembered once when he
+was little, a farmer had come to the city and everyone had called him an
+ancient word which they said came from a still more ancient name. Rube
+they had called him. Rube. He didn't like it. He had had a fight, Smith
+recalled, and a big plateglass window was broken. He went to jail for a
+few weeks on the moon, and after that he didn't come to the city any
+more. Smith was little at the time, but he had never forgotten the look
+on the farmer's face when the security officers took him off to the moon
+rocket.</p>
+
+<p>Had he known it, Jorak would have used the word rube, but what about
+Geria?</p>
+
+<p>The green number on the white door was painted sharply&mdash;4027. "Here's my
+room," Smith said. He tried an indifferent wave, but it hardly worked,
+and he began to blush again.</p>
+
+<p>Geria skipped lightly down the hall, and he couldn't see her face to
+tell if she were smiling. He shrugged, opened the door.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>"Earthsmith! Oh, no ... I come half way across the galaxy to get here,
+so what are the odds against any particular room mate? Huge, that's
+what. But I got me&mdash;hello, Earthsmith."</p>
+
+<p>It was the purple man, Jorak. He had just recently greased his shock of
+bright green hair, and he had turned away from the mirror when Smith
+opened the door. Now he turned back to the tinted glass and held his
+head at various angles.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, can you change rooms if you want to?" Smith asked pleasantly.</p>
+
+<p>"You're not going to chase me out of my own room, Earthsmith. You can
+change if you'd like. Not me."</p>
+
+<p>"All right if you want me to I'll change."</p>
+
+<p>"If I want you to! Don't pass the blame to me, Earthsmith. I didn't say
+a thing about changing, not me. Don't you think I'm good enough for
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't care one way or the other," Smith said. "I suggested you change
+because I thought you'd be happier that way. Look, I'll mind my own
+business and pretend you are not even here. How's that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Pretend I'm not here? Like cepheid you will. If you want to be ornery,
+Smith, or Earthsmith, or whatever your name is, I'll give you plenty to
+be ornery about. I'm a dominant, you know, so just watch out."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll change if that will make you happy." Smith didn't want any
+trouble. He still felt more than a little strange and out of place here,
+and a fight with Jorak wouldn't help matters. Briefly, he wondered what
+sort of psi-powers Jorak possessed.</p>
+
+<p>The purple man stood up. "What kind of a slap in the face is that? We
+haven't even started courses or anything. You think I'd need you to help
+me with my work or something?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I'm quite sure you wouldn't. But I'll change my room, anyway. I'll
+probably get in your way&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, <i>I</i> wouldn't get into <i>your</i> hair, satellite-head! If you think
+you're going to leave here and say I started a fight or something.... My
+father made quite a record for himself here at the school, and I'll have
+to beat it, of course."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," Smith agreed, but he did not really know why.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you implying anyone, just anyone, could top my father's record,
+Earthsmith? Not a man from Gyra ever did it, and intellectually Gyra is
+top planet in its own sector. Not a woman from Bortinot came close, but
+then, you probably don't even know where Bortinot is."</p>
+
+<p>Smith said no, he didn't, but he had just met a woman from Bortinot.
+Perhaps if he changed the subject....</p>
+
+<p>Jorak ran his fingers up along each side of his shock of hair. They came
+away greasy green. "Exquisite, those women of Bortinot. But then, you
+probably wouldn't appreciate them, eh, Earthsmith?"</p>
+
+<p>Smith said that he could appreciate them very well indeed, especially
+since, except for a few minor structural differences, they looked like
+women of Earth. It was a mistake, and the muscles in Jorak's cheeks
+began to twitch.</p>
+
+<p>"I say they look exquisite, you say they look like women of Earth. Which
+is it, Earthsmith? Not both, surely&mdash;a contradiction in terms. I believe
+you're trying to provoke me."</p>
+
+<p>Smith sighed. He wanted no trouble&mdash;they had spent a year with him on
+Earth, indoctrinating that. He was to be a paragon at the school, as
+Earth's first student there, he had to be a paragon&mdash;even if he turned
+out to be more awkward in this situation than the farmer on Earth
+everyone had called Rube.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I will go to sleep," Smith said.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, don't you men of Earth ever eat, Smith?"</p>
+
+<p>Smith said yes, they ate, but he wasn't very hungry now. As a matter of
+fact, he was ravenously hungry, but he did not relish the idea of going
+to some public eating place either with Jorak or alone. His heart began
+to beat a little faster when he thought that he might meet Geria if he
+did, but then he felt the heat rise up his neck and into his cheeks.
+He'd hardly know what to say to her, and besides, he knew there was
+something he should remember but couldn't quite. No, he'd skip dinner
+this first day at the school.</p>
+
+<p>Now he watched Jorak open the door and step into the hallway, and for a
+moment he heard gay voices and the shuffling of many feet, and Jorak's
+voice louder than the rest: "Kard of Shilon! How long has it been? I can
+remember that day near Raginsdild...."</p>
+
+<p>Smith turned to the window, and for a long time he sat watching the fat
+red sun.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>He got up early and he showered, and then he heard a clicking sound. Two
+cards had been deposited in a tray from a slot in the wall. At the top
+of one were the words "Jorak of Gyra," and Smith's name and planet were
+printed on the other. He picked it up and began to read, and then Jorak
+sat up and took the other card.</p>
+
+<p>"Programs," said Jorak. "Everyone takes transtellar history, of course,
+and a section or two in the humanities. My electives are Wortan fighting
+and dream-empathy."</p>
+
+<p>Smith smiled. "Me too&mdash;same program. I suppose we'll be in class
+together, Jorak."</p>
+
+<p>"Rather stupid," the purple man observed. "They've given you a
+dominant's program. But then, I remember you questioned your receptive
+classification, and the registrar's known to do this on occasion, just
+to put you in your place. You'll be in Garlonian dancing in a few days,
+Earthsmith."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I sure hope not. I didn't come here to learn how to dance&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Hah! So what? If you're an R you'll learn how to dance and like it.
+Cook, too. There's no such thing as a misfit at the school, not
+permanently. They'll find you out soon enough, Earthsmith. Hmmm, wait
+till Kard of Shilon finds out what they've put in Wortan. Kard's top man
+in his sector, and it's just possible they'll pair you off with him.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you going to eat this morning? I'd hate to see you in Wortan
+without a good meal in you. But I suppose it really wouldn't help,
+anyway. Coming, Earthsmith?"</p>
+
+<p>There weren't any people out in the hall this early, and Smith breathed
+more easily when they moved in a direction opposite that of Geria's
+room. Soon they had descended a score of levels, and the moving ramp
+became more crowded. Smith tried to ignore the eager hum of
+conversation, but it was all around him. He realized he should be
+feeling that way too. But you couldn't drum up a student's eager
+appetite within yourself, not when you didn't feel that way, not when
+your entire planet waited to see how you made out here and you felt
+unsure of yourself, even in such simple things as eating.</p>
+
+<p>That part of it at least turned out better than Smith had hoped. There
+were eggs, and while he was sure he would not recognize the fowl if he
+saw it, he could at least order his over-light and get something
+familiar. And there were long strips of fatty meat which almost could
+have been bacon, except Smith was sure the pig wouldn't be a pig at all.</p>
+
+<p>And Smith was lost in the hordes of white men, green men, purple, orange
+and brown, and no one paid him too much attention. Jorak busied himself
+remembering old times with a gruff burly orange man named Kard, whose
+planet was Shilon, and Smith ate in silence. Once he thought he saw
+Geria far off at another table, but it could have been his imagination,
+and when he looked again she was gone.</p>
+
+<p>Home, Smith always had been a quick eater, but now he found himself
+pawing at his food. Soon the great dining room began to clear. Jorak and
+Kard leaned back in their chairs, watching Smith.</p>
+
+<p>Jorak yawned. "How long does it take you to breakfast?"</p>
+
+<p>"Different rate of digestion on Earth," Kard suggested.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be foolish. Earthsmith's in no hurry to attend his first class,
+so he's loafing. Right, Earthsmith?"</p>
+
+<p>Smith mumbled something about unfamiliar food under his breath, and
+Jorak said, "Well, no matter. We'll give you another moment or two,
+Earthsmith. Then we'll have to be going. We all three have transtellar
+history, you know."</p>
+
+<p>Smith knew it all too well. Gyra and Bortinot and Shilon were so many
+names to him and he silently cursed Earth's provincial histories. For
+those here at the school, the three names and a hundred others might be
+magical stepping stones to the culture, the lore, the history of a
+galaxy&mdash;but all Smith knew now was that Jorak came from Gyra, and so
+some of Gyra's people at least must be purple, that Geria came from
+Bortinot where the women were D and the men were R and where the women
+looked like those of Earth, that Kard, finally, came from a place that
+bore the name Shilon, where some of the men at least were orange. But
+Shilon could have been anyplace from the hub to the fringe, Gyra might
+swim dizzily out near Ophiuchus or it might be the new culture name for
+one of Earth's near neighbors. And Bortinot&mdash;he wished he knew more
+about Bortinot.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>The instructor of transtellar history was a little fat man with a round
+gold face and green eyes that blinked too much. He wore the tight black
+uniform of the instructor and his green armband proclaimed his subject
+to be history. He smiled too much, too vacantly, as if he had been
+practicing it a long time and now forgot what it really meant.</p>
+
+<p>"Greetings!" he cried jovially, after everyone had been seated on the
+long low benches around the room. "I bring you history. No one is to
+talk unless I tell him to. Everyone is to listen unless I tell him not
+to. Clear?" He smiled.</p>
+
+<p>No one said anything.</p>
+
+<p>"Excellent. History encompasses thousands of years and countless cubic
+parsecs. Only the big things count. We will forget the little things.
+Little things belong to little people and we of the school are the elite
+of a transtellar culture. Questions?"</p>
+
+<p>There were none.</p>
+
+<p>"Good, because I have some. What would you say was the first event of
+importance? Luog of Panden, talk."</p>
+
+<p>Said green-skinned Luog, a very young Pandenian: "You mean ever?"</p>
+
+<p>"I would have specified had I meant otherwise. Yes, ever. Talk, Luog of
+Panden."</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Halt a moment, please. Who thinks the question is a relative one which
+cannot properly be answered? I clair it is Brandog of Hulpin."</p>
+
+<p>An albino woman three seats down from Smith flushed. "I am sorry," she
+said.</p>
+
+<p>"Who told you to talk now? This is not Hulpin, Brandog. The course is
+intensive. You must concentrate. Concentrate, concentrate, concentrate.
+No extraneous thoughts." The instructor smiled. "Luog of Panden, talk."</p>
+
+<p>Smith felt the little beads of sweat forming on his forehead. The
+instructor could read minds&mdash;and how many of these others could? They
+just sat there as if it were the most natural thing in the world....</p>
+
+<p>Only Brandog of Hulpin seemed ruffled, and it would be many moments
+before her albino skin looked again like soft alabaster. But no one
+seemed to notice. Luog was saying, "&mdash;exodus from the prehistoric Sirian
+worlds to the first culture in the Denebian system, the Var one. More
+than ten thousand Vars ago."</p>
+
+<p>"Satisfactory for a Receptive, Luog of Panden," the instructor smiled.
+"The Dominants would go back a bit further and talk of the Sirian wars,
+but that much is a matter of opinion, since the wars are largely
+mythical, anyway. And so we have set the stage for history. We have&mdash;"</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>Smith wanted to get up indignantly and tell the instructor, tell them
+all, what the most glorious epochs of history really were. You would
+find it in the museums of earth, on the plaques and in the statues and
+on the old old records of Earth. There was a lot Smith wanted to tell
+them because there was so much only he could tell them, so much they had
+forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>But he merely sat and stared politely at the black-uniformed instructor.
+You don't show yourself as a provincial&mdash;what was the word?&mdash;rube, not
+when your culture, while temporarily the oldest, is in a lot of ways the
+most neophite of them all.</p>
+
+<p>You just sat and stared, looking interested.</p>
+
+<p>The instructor's voice cut into his thoughts, "Earth of Smith&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Smith of Earth," he said, automatically.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not tell you to talk, Smith of Earth. And if your card says Earth
+of Smith, how am I to know? A mistake, yes&mdash;but an understandable one.
+I'm a historian, and I have heard of neither planet. Where is this
+Earth? Talk, Smith!"</p>
+
+<p>He stood up, although it wasn't really necessary, and he could feel his
+knees trembling slightly. "Earth is a few parsecs from Sirius, and
+Sirius I think you know."</p>
+
+<p>"I know Sirius. Now talk!"</p>
+
+<p>"What is it you want me to say? I don't feel much like talking&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yet you speak so loud that the room fairly rocks with it. I wanted you
+to tell us why you did not agree with the answer just now rendered. It
+is, I feel, a good one. Talk."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I agree, it is a good one." Smith did not want to get involved. He
+wanted to be a good, quietly efficient student. Nothing more. But he
+forgot that the instructor could read minds.</p>
+
+<p>"You lie, Smith of Earth. I won't go into it any further, because it is
+your privilege if you want to lie. But you are not to listen for the
+remainder of this lecture. Do not listen."</p>
+
+<p>Smith nodded, cursed himself mentally because he had made such a mess of
+things here at his very first lecture, and headed for the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Smith of Earth! Just where under the red sun do you think you are
+going?"</p>
+
+<p>"You told me not to listen, so&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't say talk. Talk now."</p>
+
+<p>"&mdash;so I'm leaving the room."</p>
+
+<p>"No one leaves until the lecture has been concluded. Sit if you will, or
+stand, but stay here. And do not listen."</p>
+
+<p>Smith nodded, turned back to the row of benches dumbly. He found a place
+next to Brandog of Hulpin, sat near the albino woman. Down the bench, he
+saw Jorak grinning broadly. Smith did not know how he was going to sit
+there without listening, but he decided he'd better not ask that
+question now.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>"This is your course in Wortan fighting," boomed the giant of an
+instructor. "Dominants only, or such Receptives as question their
+classification." The instructor's massive face was beefy, the color of
+new-spilled blood, and the muscles rippled and bulged and seethed under
+his black uniform.</p>
+
+<p>"Me for this!" confided Kard of Shilon, slapping Smith's back. "Perhaps
+Jorak has told you that I am not without ability on the Wortan mats."</p>
+
+<p>Smith hardly heard him. Two dozen paces across the room, on the other
+side of the circle that surrounded the instructor, stood Geria, hands on
+hips, lips soft-smiling when she saw Smith, silver tunic to her knees,
+yellow hair hanging free to shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"Join me, Smith of Earth?" she called, and knees watery again, Smith
+made his way around the circle.</p>
+
+<p>While Jorak gaped, Geria took Smith's hand when they met half way around
+the circle, and she smiled up at him. "I wouldn't have believed it, but
+you're blushing again. Earth trait, Smith?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not really," he stammered.</p>
+
+<p>The slim girl was about to say something, but the instructor cleared his
+throat ominously, and the room became silent again. "Now, then,"
+declared the giant, "there's no trick to fighting with psi-powers.
+Anyone can do that, and the women of Bortinot, as you know, are
+particularly adept. But the people of Wortan have no such powers, and
+they must depend on tooth and nail, on sinew and bone and animal
+cunning. Such is the way the Wortanians do battle&mdash;and, purely for
+sport, such is the way of Wortan fighting. Any questions?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Geria told him, "I have one. Are we not permitted to use any
+psi-powers?"</p>
+
+<p>"None. They disqualify you."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then I suppose I must withdraw from the course. I can't be
+expected to stand up to a man physically. I'm not built that way&mdash;and
+very few women are, Dominant or Receptive."</p>
+
+<p>Smith had not expected this, but now he felt a warm glow in his breast.
+He almost wanted to put his arm about the woman's shoulders,
+protectively. How could such a delicate beautiful thing be expected to
+fight?</p>
+
+<p>The instructor said, "I won't argue with you. I can't remember a woman
+ever lasting in Wortan fighting, but if they're Dominants they're
+automatically entered. The rest of you can do like&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The words came out before Smith could stop them. "In that case, can
+anyone tell me the difference between a Dominant and a Receptive?"</p>
+
+<p>There was a lot of laughter in the room, and Smith thought it would have
+been the same had he, as a child, asked the difference between boy and
+girl. "Ah, old Earthsmith!" he heard Jorak's voice. "Everytime he opens
+his mouth new wisdom spews forth."</p>
+
+<p>Pale eyes looked out of the instructor's blood-red face. "Obviously,
+you're joking. I'm here to answer questions, among other things, but you
+couldn't be serious."</p>
+
+<p>And Smith heard his own dull voice reply:</p>
+
+<p>"No, certainly not. I was only joking."</p>
+
+<p>Said Geria, "Silly, a Dominant has more psi-powers, that's all. But you
+really didn't know, did you?"</p>
+
+<p>"There are no psi-powers on Earth to speak of," Smith reminded her.</p>
+
+<p>"Hmm, very true. In that case, maybe you're all Receptives&mdash;male and
+female. But don't feel too badly, Smith; Wortan's the same way, and
+Wortan has a first-rate culture. Look: they even have an instructor here
+at the school."</p>
+
+<p>The instructor of Wortan fighting was a Wortanian, of course. And here,
+in Wortan fighting, Smith might feel at home. But he hardly expected to
+excel at the school by breaking someone's back, or pinning him
+helplessly to the Wortan mat. Suddenly he found himself thinking of
+Earth, thinking of the trust that had been put in him as Earth's first
+student at the school. But his thoughts did not remain there long&mdash;his
+eyes took in the soft yellow of Geria's hair, and Earth faded far away.</p>
+
+<p>"&mdash;volunteers," the instructor was saying. "Does anyone want to step on
+the mat with me for a fall or two?"</p>
+
+<p>"I recommend Earthsmith," came Jorak's voice. "Positively&mdash;Earthsmith's
+your man."</p>
+
+<p>Smith felt his face becoming very red again, but Geria nudged him with
+an elbow. "Go ahead, Smith&mdash;why not? You told me once you didn't fear
+anyone in the room of the registrar, not in physical combat. Go ahead."</p>
+
+<p>"I know, but&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Go ahead, Smith. Show me."</p>
+
+<p>He could do that. Yes, he could show her. But what if he were
+wrong&mdash;they might know a trick or two that would make him look foolish.
+And he wouldn't want that, not in front of Geria. "I am tired," he said.
+"I didn't sleep well last night."</p>
+
+<p>The instructor rescued him. "I didn't ask you to recommend. I asked for
+volunteers. But you who spoke, what's your name?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am Jorak of Gyra," said Jorak, purple face paling.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll do. On the mat, man of Gyra."</p>
+
+<p>Jorak stepped forward, slowly, in no hurry to meet the giant. Smith
+heard Kard's mocking laugh. "Ho, Jorak&mdash;he'll tear you in half. Now if
+he had asked for a man of Shilon ... a real man...."</p>
+
+<p>And still laughing, the Shilonian heaved mightily with both his hands
+and sent Jorak stumbling out onto the mat. The man of Gyra fell and
+skidded on his stomach, turned over once and finally came up into a
+sitting position at the instructor's feet. Kard was grinning, but Jorak
+saw nothing funny in what had happened. He stood up slowly, wheezing,
+and his gaze raked the circle. It flicked past Kard rapidly, kept going,
+poised a moment on Geria, then reached Smith. Jorak shook his fist. "All
+right, Earthsmith, I'll get you for this."</p>
+
+<p>Geria smiled. "I would say that you have an enemy there."</p>
+
+<p>The instructor bellowed a warning and came for Jorak.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>For some reason Smith found he couldn't keep his eyes off the fray, and
+he found his own breath coming in ragged gasps. Geria watched with a
+dispassionate interest. "Poor man of Gyra," she said. "It might be a
+different story if he could use some of his psi-powers. The men of Gyra
+have a little of that, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, why can't he?"</p>
+
+<p>"He'd be disqualified, shamed&mdash;and maybe worse. I never knew that
+psi-powers were not permitted on the Wortan mat, but I did know that the
+rules must be adhered to rigidly."</p>
+
+<p>The instructor's massive body stood between them and Jorak, and one of
+the great arms circled the man of Gyra's neck. Jorak's purple face
+glared straight at Smith, and his body thrashed and wriggled furiously,
+like a snake, head held fast by a forked stick. Abruptly, the instructor
+stepped back and let go. Jorak fell and lay writhing on the mat, legs
+and arms pounding.</p>
+
+<p>"Brute strength is what we want in Wortan," said the instructor,
+smoothing his black uniform.</p>
+
+<p>Said Kard of Shilon: "You outweigh Jorak, but I see your point. I wonder
+how you would do with a man of Shilon."</p>
+
+<p>The instructor smiled. "Well, we will pair off now. You can select me,
+if you wish. Those who want to drop out of the course, step back from
+the circle. We need room&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>All the women moved away, slowly, reluctantly. They were Dominants,
+every one, and Smith sensed they longed to use their psi-powers. Some of
+them trembled nervously from the exhibition they had seen, some wiped
+sweat from white and pink and green brow. One tall albino woman seemed
+hesitant, stepped back toward the circle, but she backed away again when
+a gold man big as Kard of Shilon strode forward eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>Against the wall stood the dozen women, rapt eyes intent on the men as
+they paired off. And this, Smith thought bitterly, is culture. This is
+what Earth had missed by closing its star lanes. Well, Earth....</p>
+
+<p>"Don't sulk, Smith of Earth," Geria told him, and Smith realized,
+shamefully, that he had slunk off with the women. "I say there is
+something glorious about fighting tooth and nail. Not depraved,
+certainly, unless you insist on judging it by a hidebound ethic. Go back
+to the mats, Smith&mdash;for me."</p>
+
+<p>He looked long at the woman, saw no guile in her eyes. Who was he to
+judge? Could he dare pass judgment on a society that had left Earth
+behind a score of thousand years ago? The men of Earth hadn't sent him
+here, half way across the galaxy to do that.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>He turned and walked stiffly to the mats. By now the men had paired off
+two and two, stood facing each other in pairs. Kard of Shilon and the
+thick-thewed instructor, great gold man and chunky red, reed-slender
+green man and giant orange, albinos two like alabaster statues.</p>
+
+<p>From the circle came Jorak, hands to bruised neck. He stopped, looked
+Smith up and down grimly, smiled. "You have no partner, Earthsmith?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm looking for one."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, look no more. I am tired and hurt, but I'd like to join you on
+the mat." He shrugged. "Of course, if you're afraid&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Smith still did not feel like fighting. It might as well be Jorak as any
+other&mdash;he certainly had more reason to fight Jorak. Vaguely, it seemed a
+needless expenditure of energy. But he had done it again: he had put the
+shoe on the wrong foot&mdash;he, Smith, stood up for judgment, not the
+school. "Good enough, Jorak," he said.</p>
+
+<p>In a moment, the instructor signaled them all to begin, and Smith had
+one brief look at the dozen pairs of men, grappling, heard the
+instructor shout, "one fall, and one fall only!" And then Jorak was upon
+him.</p>
+
+<p>Jorak seemed for all the world like a snake, writhing and twisting with
+a deceptive sinewy strength. But calmly Smith stepped out of his reach,
+cuffing his ears roundly when he came too close.</p>
+
+<p>"You're afraid, afraid, afraid!" Jorak taunted. "Fight!"</p>
+
+<p>Smith shrugged. If he did not want to fight, he did not want to. But the
+women hooted, and they were hooting him, all but Geria who remained
+glumly silent.</p>
+
+<p>"This is getting me nowhere," Jorak hissed. "You're making me look like
+a fool, Earthsmith." Perspiration bathed the purple face, stained the
+sides of Jorak's tunic darkly.</p>
+
+<p>And then he smiled. Smith felt giddy, hardly could keep his legs under
+him, yet hardly had Jorak touched him. Then the man of Gyra was using
+his psi-powers, despite the sanction. Oddly, Smith felt detached from it
+all. Let him use his powers then&mdash;that would end it. Let him....</p>
+
+<p>"Fight back, Smith!" Geria cried.</p>
+
+<p>Jorak's powers were not like the woman's. He could induce giddiness,
+yes, but not in any overpowering quantities. Smith swayed foolishly,
+tipped first to left, then to right, stood for a moment with arms at
+sides. Jorak rushed upon him and struck out with both fists, and Smith
+stumbled back half a dozen steps, crashed into a pair of struggling
+figures, was dimly aware that both fell.</p>
+
+<p>Jorak came on, cocky, confident, and Smith rocked for a moment on the
+balls of his feet. Once and once only he lashed out with his right arm,
+smeared Jorak's nose flat against his face. Jorak toppled backward and
+fell, writhing.</p>
+
+<p>Smith looked around him, panting. The other contestants ceased their
+struggles, and the instructor said:</p>
+
+<p>"Someone has used psi. I don't know who, but someone&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Jorak pointed weakly, said, "Earthsmith!"</p>
+
+<p>"Snap judgment," the instructor admitted. "Your word only. Still, you
+alone were bested, Jorak of Gyra&mdash;and, hah, that makes twice, doesn't
+it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Once with psi," said Jorak.</p>
+
+<p>"You sure?"</p>
+
+<p>"I ought to know what hit me! He held me rigid, I tell you, and then he
+struck me. What could I do? I ask you, what?"</p>
+
+<p>Smith knew that the instructor could read minds&mdash;with limitations. He
+knew the psi-power had been used, but he did not know who had used it.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>Jorak wiped the blood from his face with the back of one hand. "Listen,"
+he confided, "Earthsmith is a savage, really and truly, of the planet
+Earth. Terribly barbaric. Obviously, he'd have no compunctions against
+dirty fighting."</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;" said the instructor.</p>
+
+<p>"There's only one thing wrong with all this," Smith told him. "Nobody on
+Earth uses psi-power."</p>
+
+<p>Jorak slapped his hand against the mat. "Then you admit that there are
+psi-powers on Earth?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Smith said. "There are psi-powers on Earth." Things were
+happening to Smith. He felt vague stirrings inside of him, and he
+dampered them.</p>
+
+<p>"There. He admits it," Jorak said. "The men of Earth are not without
+their psi-powers, and Smith or Earthsmith&mdash;I still don't know the
+barbarian's name&mdash;used them on me." He shook his fist. "You just can't
+trust these barbarians."</p>
+
+<p>The instructor still did not seem sure of himself, but there were angry
+mutterings in the crowd, and the albino woman who had almost but not
+quite joined the fighters said, "Let me try a fall with him. Probably I
+would lose, but we of Nugat can perceive the psi-powers readily."</p>
+
+<p>Smith stormed away from her, felt hot anger rushing through him. "I
+wouldn't fight with a woman."</p>
+
+<p>Jorak taunted, "He's afraid she'll discover&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing! I'm afraid of nothing, Jorak. I just won't fight a woman." He
+was shouting now, and he couldn't help it. Again, there was the odd
+feeling that part of his mind at least stood away from all this,
+observing, shaking its head and telling him to curb his temper.</p>
+
+<p>A hand lay heavily on his shoulder, big gnarled, orange. "Kard of Shilon
+would like a fall with you, Earthsmith of Earth. Perhaps I am not as
+subtle as the woman from Nugat, but still I think I could tell."</p>
+
+<p>The instructor nodded, and Kard spun Smith around, kept him spinning
+with a short chopping blow to his jaw. Smith hardly felt it. But
+something told him deep inside his whirling brain to fall, fall,
+fall&mdash;and the faintest shadow of a smile flickered across Jorak's lips.</p>
+
+<p>Win or lose&mdash;what was the difference? Those who could would feel the
+psi-powers, and Smith would be their man.</p>
+
+<p>By crotch and collar he caught the huge man of Shilon, lifted him.
+Kard's arms and legs flailed air, helplessly. He bellowed as Smith began
+to whirl, slowly at first, but then faster. Up he raised the great
+orange hulk, held it aloft on outstretched arms for one moment&mdash;hurled
+it.</p>
+
+<p>Arms and legs still flailing wildly, Kard struck the mat, seemed almost
+to bounce, landed in a heap atop Jorak.</p>
+
+<p>Geria jumped up and down delightedly, but the woman of Nugat scowled.
+"Psi," she said. "I felt it."</p>
+
+<p>"As did I," admitted the instructor. "Faintly. Smith of Earth&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't tell me you didn't see me use my arms then, just my arms?"</p>
+
+<p>"Kard appeared awful helpless&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I felt the psi," said the woman of Nugat.</p>
+
+<p>"And I," a man agreed.</p>
+
+<p>"As I said," Jorak declared smugly, "when you bring a barbarian to the
+school you must expect barbarous behavior. Oh well," he stifled a yawn,
+"I'll get my nose fixed, of course, but this sort of thing could
+continue. Unpleasant, is it not?"</p>
+
+<p>The instructor nodded slowly, dismissed class.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>"Did you or didn't you, Smith?"</p>
+
+<p>"What do you think, Geria?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'd say no, but I did feel the psi when you threw Kard."</p>
+
+<p>"That was Jorak&mdash;and he used it on me."</p>
+
+<p>"Not very strong then, because I remember how readily I&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Look, Geria. What's the difference? They've made up their minds, and I
+can't do a thing about it. I didn't use the psi, I can tell you that and
+you'll believe me. But it doesn't matter, really. They're convinced.
+What happens next?"</p>
+
+<p>The woman of Bortinot frowned. "I don't know. They could expel you
+possibly. You forget I'm new at the school, too. Let's forget all about
+it. You will, anyway, in dream empathy."</p>
+
+<p>It was easy for her to say that, but Smith couldn't forget. The more he
+had tried to convince them he had not employed the psi-power, could not
+employ it, the more they thought that he did. He was of Earth&mdash;primitive
+by their standards, a barbarian. They had said so. Culture had leaped
+past Earth in all directions, had leaped so far that he could not even
+recognize it as such, had encompassed the stars and broad new concepts
+as big as the parsecs of space between the stars. How could he
+understand&mdash;ever?</p>
+
+<p>Or was there anything to understand? If he could take everything at its
+face value, if he could trust his own judgment, this was not culture at
+all. But he had forgotten again: his judgment didn't matter. He was
+being judged, not the school.</p>
+
+<p>"&mdash;be strictly a neophyte in dream empathy," Geria was saying. "But not
+me. I've had my share of it on Bortinot, and they'll be pairing us off,
+experienced and novice. I'll take you as a partner if you'd like,
+Smith."</p>
+
+<p>"You bet I'd like it!" He felt genuinely cheerful again, quite suddenly.
+Geria was the one bright spot at the school, and at least he had that.
+And yet there was something he could not remember, something pushing
+against the fringes of consciousness, and it concerned Geria. What
+actually had happened yesterday on the crags? He could remember,
+remember&mdash;but he couldn't at all, not really, and somehow he knew that
+the most important item of all remained tantalizingly close, yet just
+beyond his immediate reach.</p>
+
+<p>He said, "Just what is this dream empathy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Now you <i>are</i> joking."</p>
+
+<p>"No. I don't know a thing about it."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you people of Earth do for entertainment?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we talk, or we dance, or we play games, ride horses, take walks
+in the country, see a show&mdash;anything anyone else does, I guess."</p>
+
+<p>"No one else does any of that, because d.e.'s a lot better. You know
+anything about dreams, Smith?"</p>
+
+<p>"A little. Very little. They've always been something of a mystery on
+Earth."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, do you read or watch the telios on Earth?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course. But it's strictly local stuff on Earth. That's why I'm
+here."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if it's fiction, why do you read?"</p>
+
+<p>"Excitement I guess. Interest, suspense. I watch the hero, I struggle
+with him, succeed when he does if the book's a good one&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly. You go into empathy with him. Smith&mdash;how would you like to do
+that&mdash;with me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hunh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Take a dream. I dream it, not you. It's a good one, under control. A
+vivid dream, more real than life itself in a lot of ways, emotions
+highlighted, maintained, increased&mdash;and exactly what I want to dream
+because I know we'll both like it.</p>
+
+<p>"I dream it, not you. But you feel it with me. You grow tired of your
+own thoughts, so you switch in on someone else's. Control there.
+Gorgeous dreams, fantastic dreams, even horrible ones, if both would
+like it. Complete empathy&mdash;in a dream world.</p>
+
+<p>"Then later, when you're experienced, you dream and I emp. How does it
+sound, Smith?"</p>
+
+<p>He smiled. "Not much privacy. But I'd be a liar if I said I wouldn't
+want to take a peek at your dreams, Geria. It sounds fine."</p>
+
+<p>Geria laughed softly, a lilting feminine sound. "It's a little more
+private than that, provided I know what I'm doing. There's a control. I
+can dream what I want, and can restrict it. You'll see."</p>
+
+<p>Smith very much wanted to see. Almost, he forgot about Jorak and the
+psi-power. But briefly in his mind he saw the black uniformed giant from
+Wortan, felt again the flailing Kard raised high overhead, saw
+accusation in the woman of Nugat's eyes....</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>They lay on two adjacent couches, Smith and the woman of Bortinot. A
+bare cubicle of a room with just the two couches in it. A door, now
+closed, led into a room in which they had received their instructions.
+But Smith hardly had listened. Geria knew the game well enough, and he'd
+let it go at that. The rasping voice of the female instructor had
+annoyed him, anyway, but he noticed that she was a woman of Bortinot,
+not beautiful like Geria, but of her planet nonetheless.</p>
+
+<p>"Psi-powers again," Geria told him. "Hypnotism and telepathy mostly.
+You'll see...."</p>
+
+<p>Something which looked like a candle-flame seen through a long dark tube
+flickered from the ceiling. It came closer, steadied, flickered no more.
+Smith couldn't draw his eyes away from it.</p>
+
+<p>"You're asleep," Geria told him, matter-of-factly.</p>
+
+<p>He was. Not really, because in sleep there was a lack of awareness. But
+he could not move and everything was dark and he could only think.</p>
+
+<p>He felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. A mind without a body, in complete
+darkness. The tingle of awareness which you hardly regard as such
+because it always is with you was gone. Nothing.</p>
+
+<p>And then it returned. He felt his heart beating again. His ear itched
+and he scratched it. He shifted his left arm which had fallen asleep.</p>
+
+<p>Oddly, the ceiling light had moved. It had been just to the right of
+center&mdash;now it was just to the left, flickering again, retreating. It
+was gone.</p>
+
+<p>He turned over on his left side, sleepily, contentedly&mdash;on the brink of
+real sleep. Geria knew what she was doing. He'd rest. He looked&mdash;at his
+own sleeping figure!</p>
+
+<p>Madness toyed with the edges of his mind, gained inroads, made him look
+again. The silent figure to his left&mdash;himself. He raised his hands, felt
+the hair, long, flowing, billowing about his head&mdash;looked down, could
+see the gentle rounded rise of breast.</p>
+
+<p>A voice nibbled at consciousness, repeated itself, became clearer,
+laughing: "<i>We will go to sleep now, Smith. How does it feel to be here
+with me? Let's dream. Dream&mdash;</i>"</p>
+
+<p>The voice reassured, and Smith-Geria relaxed, slept.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p><i>He, Geria of Bortinot&mdash;really she, then&mdash;stood on a hill. A weathered
+hill and aged, on a frigid world where winds of winter raged and howled
+and battered mountains into submissive mounds. Fearful place, grim and
+almost dead it was&mdash;and yet he liked it. Smiling, he stood atop the hill
+and bade the tempest strike. The winds hurled him headlong and he
+stumbled, but he felt elated, wild and free, part of the elements that
+did battle there in that country of the weathered hills. And there were
+others and they were men. They came up the hill and they tried to take
+him in their arms, strong men and fair, but he ran laughing with the
+wind. His identity faded in that wind, was torn to tatters by it&mdash;left
+only was Geria of Bortinot, her feelings, her thoughts, but his
+awareness.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>She stumbled, fell, turned over and over, much too slowly. Winds still
+howled, but above her here at hill's bottom. Wraiths of fog swirled in
+eddying gusts, came closer and faded, appeared again and swept away.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>She cried a name because the fog brought her an image and the name and
+the image were one.</i> "Smith of Earth, of Earth, of Earth...." <i>And he
+came to her, this image, on a charger, an animal much too thick through
+the shoulders to be a horse, with three pairs of legs. Low out of saddle
+he leaned, graceful, handsome bald head pink with excitement. He
+clutched at her, lifted her through the mists, above them. The
+six-legged horse soared high, above the hills, above the winds, carried
+her higher and higher. Smith stroked her yellow hair, kissed her. She
+tingled....</i></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/>
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>"Wake up Smith! Up, come on now, the class is over for today."</p>
+
+<p>He stirred. The dream&mdash;Gods of Earth, what a dream!</p>
+
+<p>"Well, how'd you like it? See what I mean about dream empathy, Smith?
+Beats everything, doesn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>Smith hardly heard her. They say dreams fulfill wishes, they say&mdash;and
+what was it Geria had dreamed? Suddenly, it was very important to Smith,
+terribly important, more important than anything, because he remembered,
+without knowing how or why, what had happened yesterday on the crags.</p>
+
+<p>"Geria," he said. He tried to make his voice soft, but it boomed loudly,
+almost startled her.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing. Why nothing is the matter. You remember yesterday on the crag,
+Geria?"</p>
+
+<p>She nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"And your dream&mdash;Geria?"</p>
+
+<p>Again, the casual nod.</p>
+
+<p>"Geria, I&mdash;I love you. I think I want to marry you. I think&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He stopped. She looked at him for what seemed a long time but really was
+only a few seconds, and then she grinned. There was nothing malicious
+about it, Smith knew, just a grin. It spread, and the woman of Bortinot
+began to laugh. Softly at first, but soon she was laughing very hard and
+Smith felt foolish. He wanted very much to be out of there, any place
+but in that room, but he did not know for sure that he knew how to
+operate the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Smith, Smith," she said, "if you could see yourself now. But I
+suppose I deserve it. I planted the suggestion, you fought it, now
+you're pretending. All right, I admit defeat. But stop now; you should
+see your face."</p>
+
+<p>Serious. She was serious. She thought he was joking. Post-suggestively
+you tried to get someone to do something&mdash;anything, and it was very very
+funny if they did. Funnier yet if they didn't, because then they beat
+you at your own game, made fun of you, laughed at you, but eventually
+with you. Of course it was like that, let her think it was like that.</p>
+
+<p>He smiled. "All right, I'll&mdash;stop."</p>
+
+<p>And together, laughing, they walked out of the room. Smith was surprised
+to find he had no trouble at all with the door.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>Jorak had a friendly smile for Smith when he entered their room.
+"There's a card for you in the box, Smith. Read it." Jorak, it seemed,
+had stopped playing with his name.</p>
+
+<p>Smith took the card, read it. "<i>Smith of Earth, report to Registrar at
+once.</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"You know why, don't you?" Jorak asked him. But the smile was no longer
+friendly.</p>
+
+<p>"How should I know?"</p>
+
+<p>"Trouble, that's what. But you asked for it. Psi and Wortan don't mix,
+barbarian."</p>
+
+<p>Smith was glad when he hardly felt any impulse to strike the purple man.
+But he said, mocking Jorak's own tones, "Don't provoke me," and Jorak
+cowered in a corner.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>Smith looked into the banks of the Registrar's lights, spoke into the
+speaker. "Smith of Earth," he said. This time his voice didn't boom with
+loudness. And it didn't seem to matter much anymore.</p>
+
+<p>And this time, the Registrar's voice wasn't so femininely petulant. It
+sounded masculine, authoritative.</p>
+
+<p>"Smith of Earth. Item. Garnot of Jlob feels you are an inferior history
+student, recommends withdrawal from the school.</p>
+
+<p>"Item: Sog-chafka of Wortan announces your wanton use of psi-powers in
+Wortan fighting, recommends clemency because you are a barbarian.</p>
+
+<p>"Item: Kard of Shilon wants to meet you in Wortan again. Promises to
+kill you.</p>
+
+<p>"Item: both Jorak of Gyra and Geria of Bortinot have questioned your
+mentality, want you tested."</p>
+
+<p>Vaguely Smith listened. He felt removed, resigned. But then certain
+words struck hard....</p>
+
+<p>"<i> ... Geria of Bortinot questions your mentality....</i></p>
+
+<p>"Smith of Earth. Are you listening?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm listening," Smith said.</p>
+
+<p>"I feel you have two choices," the Registrar said. "We can request your
+withdrawal from the school, or we can keep you here under observation
+and give you an exhaustive battery of tests. The decision is in your
+hands."</p>
+
+<p>"<i> ... Geria of Bortinot questions your mentality....</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"<i> ... the decision is in your hands.</i>"</p>
+
+<p>Jorak moved, slipped along the wall. His face was sneering and fearful
+too. The purple mask of his face seemed to swim before Smith's eyes like
+something seen through watered glass. Smith was pacing. He felt the
+emotions beginning to work yeastily and he longed to take that face and
+twist it off its snaky neck.</p>
+
+<p>"You had better go back to Earth, Smith," Jorak said. "Wherever it is."</p>
+
+<p>Abruptly, Smith felt the tendons writhing between his hands. He lifted.
+He held the squirming figure off the floor, held it there and looked
+into it curiously.</p>
+
+<p>"You'd better use some of your psi-power, my little green friend," Smith
+said, "While you can."</p>
+
+<p>The green face was turning purple. Words choked off somewhere down in
+the tubular length of the neck. Smith could feel it now! He could feel
+it! And he knew. The desperate tendrils of psi-power flailing out. And
+Smith began to smile.</p>
+
+<p>"I could tell you some things, Jorak. You have some psi-power, but that
+and anything else you've got, including some very bad features, you got
+them all from Earth. You got the germs for it all a long time back. And
+what you have left is just something that's a kind of left-over after a
+few thousand years. The Earth has forgotten more psi-power, friend, than
+you'll ever have."</p>
+
+<p>Jorak's eyes popped. Veins were coloring thickly through them.</p>
+
+<p>"You're here to learn something, Jorak. Listen. We developed psi-power
+on Earth so long ago we don't bother remembering when it was."</p>
+
+<p>Smith felt the power all right. Latent psi-power, dormant and unused and
+unneeded and uninteresting for aeons.</p>
+
+<p>He threw Jorak into the corner. Jorak curled up there, sucking in air
+and rubbing his bruised neck.</p>
+
+<p>"We had it. We threw it away," Smith said. "We had a defense against it
+too. But we don't use psi, or the defense anymore. We outgrew it. It had
+its day and then we forgot about it, Jorak. Why? We lost interest.
+Individual sanctity was better. Privacy of the human mind was something
+a lot more to be desired than being able to pry into someone else's
+brain, or vice versa. But you take a lot of pride, Jorak, in having a
+little residue floating around."</p>
+
+<p>Smith grinned more widely. It was funny in a way, and sad too. And he
+didn't particularly care about pushing it any further.</p>
+
+<p>"<i> ... the decision is in your hands.</i>"</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>He wished his thoughts would organize, fuse somehow with the stirring,
+rebelling emotions. Integration right now was vital. You lose, or you're
+not equal to something. And a really top-notch defense-mechanism will
+turn the whole thing around and say IT is not equal to YOU. That's a
+danger. And of that he was afraid.</p>
+
+<p>Could he, should he, pass judgment? On a culture that had left Earth
+wallowing in the cosmic back-waters? Twice, thrice, he had tried to pass
+that judgment, but he could not. He should be judged, theoretically, not
+the school.</p>
+
+<p>So what if their concept of history was primitive, basking in its own
+importance, ignoring the philosophical precepts upon which the social
+sciences are based? Surely they had reason, and he shouldn't
+question....</p>
+
+<p>And if they valued Wortan fighting above all else ... if it made their
+women look like eager animals waiting to see the blood spill ... how
+could he question? Why should he dare assume that the whole culture was
+depraved, simply because he regarded it that way by Earth standards?</p>
+
+<p>And their dream empathy was enjoyable, he had to admit that&mdash;but it was
+too enjoyable. No wonder Earth had dropped that sort of thing long ago.
+It was a good gimmick to divert attention from important things. It was
+also regressive, a kind of sick introversion. It was decadence, an
+invasion of privacy, an offense against the dignity of human privacy of
+the mind&mdash;the individual's last precarious citadel.</p>
+
+<p>He jumped a little when the Registrar barked: "Your decision, Smith of
+Earth."</p>
+
+<p>He smiled at the bank of lights. He had broad duties. He had a duty to
+Earth. And an indirect duty to the Galaxy. He should report all this.
+And Earth should try to do something to bring many worlds out of sloth,
+decadence, regression and inverted self-importance.</p>
+
+<p>But first of all, a man had a duty to himself, his own psychic health.
+Maybe the two weren't inseparable either. Maybe Earth would share the
+humiliation if he, Smith, suffered its scars to remain on him.</p>
+
+<p>He wanted to consider himself as more than a mere projection of Earth,
+more than a mere symbol. He was of Earth, sure. But first of all he was
+Smith. Just plain Smith. A guy with a human spirit, with dignity that
+could be affronted and had been here.</p>
+
+<p>He thought of Geria, of what that dream empathy had suggested. He felt
+her lips again, the softly curving line of her hips under the silver
+tunic to her knees, the yellow hair falling free to shoulders....</p>
+
+<p>"Your decision, Smith of Earth," the Registrar's voice was louder.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not going back to Earth," said Smith softly. "Yet."</p>
+
+<p>He watched Jorak slipping up the side of the wall, then rushing out the
+exit.</p>
+
+<p>Smith went to the exit too, then into the hall. He started walking down
+it, and the smile clung to his lips like an old memory.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>From the monochromatic light harmonies playing softly from the walls,
+from the abstract gentleness of music that never stopped filtering
+through the gardens and over the mists of fountains, from the
+ever-coruscating and subdued twilight that surrounded the school&mdash;from
+these things, Smith extracted the tone of decadence, the static,
+hidebound turning of a wheel upon itself.</p>
+
+<p>The women from Bortinot stared oddly at him as his bulk, high and broad
+passed near. He heard their whispers ... "barbarian ... savage...."</p>
+
+<p>His smile broadened. The cycle closed. Strange, how the old became
+decadent, and the young revolted and itself became sophisticated and
+sick, and the old became young again and the old values turned fresh and
+clear like a tree blooming out of winter's snow.</p>
+
+<p>The sounds of voices died abruptly as Smith went in. Faces turned ...
+Brandog of Hulpin with the albino skin like alabaster; Luog the young,
+green-skinned Pandenian ... varieties of form and color ... the white,
+pink, orange and green brows. But there was the sameness of inversion
+and static culture.</p>
+
+<p>Mouths gaped as Smith strode up to the front of the class room in
+transtellar history and looked curiously at the little man with the
+round gold face and green eyes that still blinked too much, and who,
+even now, smiled too much, too vacantly, as if he had been practicing a
+long time and had forgotten what it meant.</p>
+
+<p>But Garnot of Jlob's smile was slightly strained now and his face had a
+pale look, under its sheath of gold.</p>
+
+<p>"What a boorish intrusion," the instructor said. His voice got higher.
+"The entire school knows of course, Earth of Smith...."</p>
+
+<p>"Smith of Earth," Smith said softly.</p>
+
+<p>"Whatever it is, the entire school knows that already you have disgraced
+yourself and your planet&mdash;which was to be expected. And that I have
+recommended your withdrawal from the school as an inferior student."</p>
+
+<p>"And so," Smith said.</p>
+
+<p>"Therefore, it should be obvious that you are not particularly welcome
+as a member of this class. Surely you have not chosen to remain, and
+even if you have, it should be obvious that you will not be part of any
+class of mine until you have successfully passed certain tests, and have
+been kept under observation. Need I add that after you have taken these
+tests, we will not be expecting you to remain...."</p>
+
+<p>Several students tittered.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to talk now, Garnot of Jlob," Smith said. "You asked me
+questions earlier. Now I'm going to answer them."</p>
+
+<p>"But I did not...."</p>
+
+<p>"They're questions that should be answered, even though I'm not at all
+sure that there's enough free-thought here to grasp the real meaning of
+what I'm going to say."</p>
+
+<p>"I did not tell you to talk."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm Smith of Earth, and this is supposedly a free institution. On Earth
+I wasn't accustomed to being told when I could talk, when I could
+listen, when I could think. You asked me once where Earth is. I'll tell
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"But I do not care and...."</p>
+
+<p>"Earth, interstellarly speaking, is a few parsecs from Sirius.
+Spaceo-graphically speaking, it isn't very important where it is, not
+really. Historically, it was at the apex of civilized culture before
+Jlob ever existed except as a steaming carboniferous swamp peopled
+largely by a species of amphibian. Socio-psychologically, Earth is a few
+aeons ahead of the worlds so badly represented here."</p>
+
+<p>"You have not been told to talk!" screamed Garnot of Jlob.</p>
+
+<p>"But you are supposed to listen," Smith insisted. A gasp sounded through
+the room. "You asked what was the first interstellar event of
+importance. I'm going to tell you." He turned so that he was looking at
+the class. "It wasn't the exodus from the prehistoric Sirian worlds to
+the first culture in the Denebian system. Nor was it the Sirian wars.
+Those things didn't set the stage for Interstellar history. Interstellar
+history had already begun and grown old on the planet Earth, half a
+million years before...."</p>
+
+<p>An intensity boiled up through the wick of Smith's body. "The question
+itself is shallow, meaningless in an academic sense. It was asked only
+to be answered in such a way as to reinforce egotistical concepts of
+culture. The most important event in Interstellar history was when men
+on the planet Earth developed speech perhaps, or some other event even
+long before that ... and started the scientific process that led finally
+to the most glorious epoch in history. And what was that? I can remember
+with pride the engravings of the first proud Earth ships that blasted
+off for the Centaurian system aeons ago. And other pictures of the early
+days of the new Centaurian culture, and still others. Of discontent and
+over-population. And the migration to Sirius.</p>
+
+<p>"Or even earlier, of the stern, thin-lipped face of Matthew Merkle whose
+tincan of a spaceship carved a loop in space around the Moon&mdash;a
+satellite of Earth&mdash;and returned.</p>
+
+<p>"You think of history in terms of challenge and response, and the
+earlier challenges were the most significant ones. It was harder to get
+a spaceship across a mere quarter of a million miles to the Moon then,
+than it is to send it, translight, to the farthest star today."</p>
+
+<p>Garnot of Jlob was quivering. His face had a deep purplish cast.</p>
+
+<p>Smith turned completely around, his back to the instructor.</p>
+
+<p>"If you want the truth about interstellar history, my friends, come to
+Earth. That was where it started. That's where anything decent about it
+has remained. And I'm not at all sure that Earth isn't where it will end
+... if it ever really ends."</p>
+
+<p>Half way to the exit, he turned to Garnot of Jlob. "You can stop trying
+to use psi-power to make me shut up, you pompous phony."</p>
+
+<p>Laughing softly, Smith went out and down the hall. Behind him he heard a
+loud coughing as though someone was choking.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>The word had spread before him to the room where Sog-chafka of Wortan,
+and Kard of Shilon, and the crowd waited. The two giants were on the
+mats and around the rows of up-circling benches, were the eager, hungry
+faces of the women of Bortinot. The Dominants, their lips moist and
+slightly open and their eyes shiny with anticipation.</p>
+
+<p>Geria stared at him, her body shifting slightly, her lips apart and her
+teeth shining white, eyes glistening. He remembered how the kiss had
+been. He smiled at her. She seemed scornful now, a little sad, pitying,
+as he walked onto the mats.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, Earthsmith," boomed the instructor. His massive blood-colored face
+was shiny as he stood there, muscles rippling and seething under the
+black uniform. Kard of Shilon grinned. The spectators laughed as Smith
+tripped on the mat and almost sprawled.</p>
+
+<p>Kard of Shilon said, "I'm going to kill you, Earthsmith."</p>
+
+<p>Smith said, "That's an odd way to express your elite tastes, Kard, but I
+can understand how you feel. Earth knew a lot of killing in its day."</p>
+
+<p>To Sog-chafka, Smith said, "You accused me of using psi-power in Wortan
+fighting. It was kind of you to recommend clemency. However, I deny the
+accusation."</p>
+
+<p>"He has psi-power," screamed Jorak of Gyra from the top bench. He shook
+green fists.</p>
+
+<p>"You said only a few Earthmen had psi-power," Sog-chafka said.</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't. I said it's never used on Earth. There's a difference."</p>
+
+<p>"You said you...."</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't use it," Smith said. "What psi-power you have, came from Earth.
+We of Earth developed it. But it's been a long time since we have
+bothered with it. But though I'm a little bit rusty now, I'll show
+you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>None of them ever knew what a dreadful moment that was for Smith ... who
+knew his capacity for psi-power, but had never bothered to use it
+before.</p>
+
+<p>He concentrated.</p>
+
+<p>Twenty Dominant women of Bortinot fell writhing on the mats.</p>
+
+<p>They writhed for a while, then got up and sat down again. Perspiration
+was heavy on their faces, and they panted heavily, and their eyes were
+slightly glazed with psychic shock.</p>
+
+<p>Smith's head ached. But he would never show it. He was rusty all right.</p>
+
+<p>Sog-chafka and Kard shifted once and seemed uneasy.</p>
+
+<p>Smith said. "I did that to demonstrate a point, which is that if I want
+to use psi-power here, I'll not fool around with any puny amount of it
+such as I was accused of doing earlier. I prefer fighting the Wortan
+way. Psi-power fighting is pretty unhealthy stuff. Minds getting all
+wrapped up together in combat. It's finally like beating yourself...."</p>
+
+<p>Smith laughed at the two giants. "Well," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Kard rushed. Smith dropped to hands and knees, pinched Kard's legs, held
+them perpendicular from the knees down. Kard's rushing weight carried
+his body on over. His knees popped. He screamed and fell moaning on the
+mat.</p>
+
+<p>Sog-chafka was already rushing and he tried to duck as Smith lunged
+upward. The sound in the room was cracking and sharp. Sog-chafka, the
+instructor in Wortan fighting, stumbled back and his thick arms dug at
+the air and a laxness showed under the skin-tight black uniform. Blood
+ran on the mats as Sog-chafka refused to go down any further than his
+knees. His head hung loosely and he slowly raised his blood-shot eyes.</p>
+
+<p>His massive face twisted. Kard of Shilon lay groaning a little, nursing
+dislocated knees.</p>
+
+<p>Sog-chafka remained bent, powerful thighs driving as his toes dug into
+the mat in a pounding, hurtling running dive, head down, hands reaching.
+It was a ferocious thing to see. Smith could hear the gasps of
+anticipation as he waited.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>Smith chopped down with cupped hands as he stepped aside. He brought his
+knee up into Sog-chafka's face and the instructor spun crazily across
+the mat, his body sinking lower and lower and finally sliding forward on
+his belly and lying there without moving at all. "Brute strength," Smith
+said, "is what you want on Wortan."</p>
+
+<p>Smith glanced at Geria. "As you said earlier, Geria, there's something
+glorious about fighting tooth and nail. That's what you said."</p>
+
+<p>Smith's foot was jerked from under him as Kard heaved. Smith's heavy
+body thudded on the mat. Before he could twist around, Kard's powerful
+arm was around his throat. Smith's wind was cut off. He felt his eyes
+bulge, and he knew that Kard would kill him. "I think, Earthsmith, it
+only right you should come down here with me!"</p>
+
+<p>Smith put his right hand under Kard's right elbow. He clenched Kard's
+right wrist with the other hand. He pushed up with his right hand,
+heaved down with his left. Kard screamed a second time as his elbow
+popped.</p>
+
+<p>He had to let go or his arm would break, so he let go. As Kard rolled
+free, Smith aimed for that vital point just to the left of the tip of
+Kard's chin. The back of Kard's head thudded on the mat, his eyes rolled
+up.</p>
+
+<p>Smith got to his feet. He could hear Jorak of Gyra yelling. "He used
+psi! He used psi!"</p>
+
+<p>Smith hated to acquire another headache, but he felt this had to be
+done. He concentrated on Jorak who started to sweat. Then Jorak came
+down to the mats and began to writhe and hop around in a weird and
+formless dance. Round and round the mats Jorak danced, his face working
+fitfully.</p>
+
+<p>Sog-chafka was on one knee. His face was swelling and blood ran from his
+chin. He grinned and a broken tooth fell out. He looked up at the row of
+spectators. "He didn't use any psi on me. I guess you could say it
+wasn't necessary."</p>
+
+<p>There was no applause from the spectators. There was a kind of bitter
+ferment working, a wonderment and a suspicion and a dull kind of shock
+that blanks out facing unpleasant truths.</p>
+
+<p>Smith started past the first row, then stopped and looked down at the
+woman. He'd miss her, she had seen to that, and she had only been
+jesting. He'd think of how it might have been, at another time, in
+another way&mdash;but he'd forget in time. You forgot and you grew.
+Especially, when you had a job to do.</p>
+
+<p>"There's one thing this school has," he said, "that Earth doesn't have
+... and never did ... and probably never will. And that is Geria of
+Bortinot."</p>
+
+<p>When he went out, she was staring after him with an odd expression he
+couldn't identify. And behind her, Jorak of Gyra danced round and round
+the mats.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>The Registrar's lights blinked with what might almost have been
+nervousness.</p>
+
+<p>"Smith of Earth. Item: Garnot of Jlob has withdrawn his recommendation
+that you leave the school. However, his transtellar history class will
+have a new instructor for a week. His name is Khrom of Khaldmar.</p>
+
+<p>"Item: Sog-chafka of Wortan withdraws his accusation that you used
+psi-power in Wortan fighting. Wortan fighting classes have been dropped
+for two weeks.</p>
+
+<p>"Item: Kard of Shilon does not wish to meet you again in Wortan.</p>
+
+<p>"Item: Jorak of Gyra and Geria of Bortinot do not question your
+mentality and formally request that you release Jorak from psi-power
+suggestion which is causing Jorak to dance himself to death."</p>
+
+<p>Smith listened rather absently and then went to the window and looked
+out over the strange landscape.</p>
+
+<p>"Smith of Earth ... as yet you have not taken the battery of tests here,
+and the tests will determine your stay here. The choice is yours. We can
+request your withdrawal from the school, or we can keep you here. Your
+Dominant classification has been thoroughly validated. We are sure you
+would be happy here, and the tests will be presented in such a way that
+you will...."</p>
+
+<p>Well, he hadn't let himself down. He'd defended his integrity as a human
+being. But he'd been told not to let Earth down.</p>
+
+<p>Well, would he be letting Earth down by leaving? Would he be? If he
+returned and said that the galaxy had a school but we'd better not send
+students because the school is decadent&mdash;could Earth stand up in the
+face of its pricked bubble?</p>
+
+<p>What is, and what is not, letting your planet down? Smith knew it for an
+almost meaningless phrase, standing here before the clicking Registrar.
+The important thing was to learn, for from learning are sowed the seeds
+of progress, and surely he had learned.</p>
+
+<p>Yes, he had learned a great deal about the Galactic culture.</p>
+
+<p>The Registrar's voice droned on, being very logical and again petulant
+in a feminine way. It was a compliant machine. It got along well,
+maintaining a nice balance, with everyone. With Dominants it became
+slightly recessive. With Receptives, it was just a little bit Dominant.</p>
+
+<p>He watched the monstrous blotch of the red star, swelling and crimson,
+old and fading, yet filling a quarter of the sky, like a fat old man,
+getting fatter while his brain rotted away in his skull.</p>
+
+<p>He turned as the door opened. His breath shortened as she came toward
+him. Smith rubbed his bald pate, and felt the heat rise to his face.</p>
+
+<p>"You made a fool of me, Smith," she whispered. "Now you're blushing ...
+and that's just an act isn't it? You're still making a fool of me."</p>
+
+<p>"No," he said. "The way I felt about you and the things I said, I meant
+them. I still do."</p>
+
+<p>"But you let me use that psi-power on you ... and ... and if you'd
+wanted to ... you could have...." He stared. She was sobbing a little.</p>
+
+<p>He had felt it before, but the feeling was strong enough now to motivate
+action. He put his arms about her, protectively. He looked out the
+window at the cragged horizon and the dying red star behind.</p>
+
+<p>"The psi-power," he said. "I didn't realize I had it then. When you used
+it ... and later, the dream-empathy, it stirred up a lot of old
+capacities. I wasn't trying to fool anyone. I love you, Geria of
+Bortinot. And I'm not fooling...."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Your decision, Smith of Earth....</i>"</p>
+
+<p>Well, he had learned a great deal about Galactic culture, so what should
+he do? A duty to Earth, to civilization. He had learned:</p>
+
+<p>... That the superior cultures out here among the stars were a myth.</p>
+
+<p>... That something had gone haywire in the startrails, that everyone you
+met was either psychotic or highly neurotic by Earth standards.</p>
+
+<p>... That the exceptions might be the hope of the Galaxy. But they were
+very few.</p>
+
+<p>... That Earth had better seek out the reasons for all this, try to
+eliminate them at their sources if possible, but certainly keep them
+from contaminating the home planet.</p>
+
+<p>... That Earth had a big job, but if he came back and reported and
+worked at it, he might convince Earth she was up to it.</p>
+
+<p>That was one way.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Your decision, Smith of Earth, the battery of tests or....</i>"</p>
+
+<p>She was looking up at him. "Well?"</p>
+
+<p>"What do you think, Geria?"</p>
+
+<p>She put her face against his chest. "Whatever you decide," she
+whispered. "You're the Dominant...."</p>
+
+<p>He smiled at the banks of lights. "When's the next ship for Deneb?" he
+asked. "We're going back to Earth."</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Earthsmith, by Milton Lesser
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Earthsmith, by Milton Lesser
+
+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: Earthsmith
+
+Author: Milton Lesser
+
+Release Date: June 1, 2010 [EBook #32641]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EARTHSMITH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ EARTHSMITH
+
+ By Milton Lesser
+
+[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of
+Science and Fantasy January 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any
+evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
+
+
+[Sidenote: Nobody at the Interstellar Space School had ever heard of
+Earth so naturally they treated Smith with contempt--or was it an innate
+fear?...]
+
+
+Someone in the crowd tittered when the big ungainly creature reached the
+head of the line.
+
+"Name?"
+
+The creature swayed back and forth foolishly, supporting the bulk of his
+weight first on one extremity and then on the other. His face which had
+a slight rosy tint anyway got redder.
+
+"Come, come. Planet? Name?" The registrar was only a machine, but the
+registrar could assume an air of feminine petulance. "We want to keep
+the line moving, so if you will please--"
+
+The creature drew a deep breath and let the two words come out in a
+rush. "Earth, Smith," he said. Being nervous, he could not modulate his
+voice. Unable to modulate his voice, he heard the words come out too
+deep, too loud.
+
+"Did you hear that voice?" demanded the man who had tittered. "On a cold
+wet night they say the karami of Caulo boom like that. And look at
+Earthsmith. Just look at him. I ask you, what can they accept at the
+school and still call it a school? Hey you, Earthsmith, what courses
+will you take?"
+
+"I don't know," the creature confessed. "That's what I'm here for. I
+don't even know what they teach at the school."
+
+"He doesn't know." More tittering.
+
+The registrar took all this in impassively, said: "What planet,
+Earthsmith?"
+
+The creature was still uncomfortable. "Earth. Only my name is not
+Earthsmith. Smith--"
+
+The titterer broke into a loud guffaw. "Earthsmith doesn't even know
+what planet he's from. Good old Earthsmith." He was a small thin man,
+this titterer, with too-bright eyes, vaguely purple skin, and a
+well-greased shock of stiff green hair.
+
+Smith squared his wide shoulders and looked into the colored lights of
+the registrar. "It's a mistake. My name is Smith."
+
+"What planet, Smith?"
+
+"Earth. The planet Earth." Smith had a rosy, glistening bald head and a
+hairless face. A little bead of sweat rolled into his left eye and made
+him blink. He rubbed his eye.
+
+"Age?" The machine had a way of asking questions suddenly, and Smith
+just stared.
+
+"Tell me your age. Age. How old are you?"
+
+Smith wanted to sit down, only there were no chairs. Just the room with
+its long line of people behind him, and the machine up front. The
+registrar.
+
+"I'm twenty-seven."
+
+"Twenty-seven what?"
+
+"You asked me my age. I'm twenty-seven years old, and three months."
+
+Except for the clicking of the machine, there was a silence. The voice
+of the machine, feminine again, seemed confused when it spoke. "I cannot
+correlate years, Smith of Earth. How old are you?"
+
+It wasn't an ordeal, really, but Smith felt more uncomfortable every
+moment. Was the machine making fun of him? If it were, then it had an
+ally in the crowd, because the man who had tittered was laughing again,
+the green shock of hair on his head bobbing up and down.
+
+"Earthsmith doesn't even know how old he is. Imagine."
+
+The machine, which was more feminine than not, asked Smith how far the
+planet Earth was from its primary, and what the orbital speed of the
+planet was. Smith told her, but again the terminology was not capable of
+correlation.
+
+"Unclassified as to age, Smith. It's not important. I wonder, are you
+dominant or receptive?"
+
+"I'm a man. Male. Dom--"
+
+"That doesn't matter. Smith, tell me, how long has it been since anyone
+from the planet Earth has attended the school?"
+
+Smith said he didn't know, but, to his knowledge, no one from Earth had
+ever been here. "We don't get around much any more. It's not that we
+can't. We just go and then we don't like it, so we come back to Earth."
+
+"Well, from the looks of you I would say you are a receptive. Very
+definitely receptive, Smith." Given sufficient data, the registrar could
+not be wrong. Given sufficient data the registrar could tell you
+anything you wanted to know, provided the answer could be arrived at
+from the data itself. "The male and female distinction no longer holds,
+of course. On some planets the female is dominant, on some she's not.
+It's generally according to the time of colonization, Smith. When was
+Earth colonized?"
+
+"It wasn't."
+
+"What do you mean, it wasn't?"
+
+"We were always there. We colonized the rest of the galaxy. Long ago."
+
+The registrar clicked furiously, expressed itself still more femininely
+this time. "Oh, that planet! You certainly are the first, Smith. The
+very first here at the school. Room 4027, dominant companion." Neuter
+voice again. "That's all, Smith of Earth. Next."
+
+The vaguely purple-skinned man stood before the registrar, winked at the
+flashing lights. "You know, now I can see what they mean when we're told
+of a missing link in the chain between man and animal. Old
+Earthsmith...."
+
+"Name?" said the machine.
+
+The man pointed at Smith, shook with silent laughter. The back of
+Smith's head, which could not properly be called bald because he had
+never had any hair on it, was very red.
+
+"Name's Jorak."
+
+"Planet?" demanded the fully neuter machine.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+There was the red star, a monstrous blotch of crimson swollen and
+brooding on the horizon and filling a quarter of the sky. There was the
+fleck of white high up near the top of the red giant, its white-dwarf
+companion in transit. These were the high jagged crags, falling off
+suddenly to the sundered, frothy sea with its blood-red sun-track fading
+to pink and finally to gray far away on either side.
+
+Smith watched the waves break far below him, and he almost stumbled when
+someone tapped his shoulder.
+
+"That was mean of the man named Jorak." She might have been a woman of
+Earth, except that she was too thin, cast in a too-delicate mould. Yet
+beautiful.
+
+Smith shrugged, felt the heat rise to his face and knew that he must
+have looked like a mirror for the red sun.
+
+"Is that really a blush, Smith? Are you blushing?"
+
+He nodded. "I can't help it. I--"
+
+"Don't be foolish. I don't want you to stop. I think it looks nice."
+
+Smith rubbed his pate, watched the hot wind blow the girl's yellow hair
+about her face. "They tell me my great great grandfather had a little
+fringe of hair around his head. I've seen pictures."
+
+"How nice--"
+
+"If you're trying to make fun of me, please go away. It wasn't nice, it
+was ugly. Either you have hair or you don't. The men of Earth used to
+have it, long ago. The women still do."
+
+She changed the subject. "I'll bet you think this place is ugly, Smith."
+
+Smith shook his head. "No, it's stark. If you like things that way, it
+isn't really ugly. But Earth is a planet of green rolling hills and soft
+rains and--you're making fun of me."
+
+"You say that again and I'll take it as an insult." She smiled. "We have
+our green rolling hills on Bortinot, only it's cold. I like it here
+because it's warm. And, of course, I have a lot to learn at school."
+
+"Would you think I'm stupid if I ask you what?"
+
+"No. And you were really serious in there when you said you didn't know
+what they teach."
+
+"How could I know? I'm the first student here from Earth. Every five
+years--say, twenty times during the course of one lifetime--we get the
+application. This time the government finally decided someone should go.
+Me."
+
+"Well, they teach just about everything that could be of value in a
+transtellar culture."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Things like astrogation and ethics--"
+
+"I caught the school express at a Denebian planet. Someone told me there
+that the school is decadent."
+
+She smiled up at him. "Deneb is a slothful place, then. It is true that
+the school never stands still, changing its courses to meet the demands
+of a changing society. If Deneb cannot keep pace with the changes, that
+could explain the feeling. Right now they'll be concentrating in dreams
+and dream-empathy, in some of the newer Garlonian dances, Sarchian
+cooking for the receptives and Wortan fighting for the dominants. Quite
+a virile program, Smith, provided one is up to it."
+
+"What happened to your astrogation and ethics?"
+
+"That? Oh, that's just a catch-all phrase. Your courses will depend on
+such things as your D or R classifications--"
+
+"It makes me laugh a little," Smith admitted. "But they've classified me
+as a receptive. I guess they know what they're doing. Still--"
+
+"You think you're strong, eh?"
+
+"Well, I didn't see anyone in the registrar's room who would worry me
+very much in a fight."
+
+"Society is sophisticated, Smith. There's more to strength than mere
+brawn. What sort of psi-powers have they cultivated on the planet
+Earth?"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+In a general sense, but in a general sense only, Smith knew what she
+meant. "Well, there's hypnotism, and some people play at telepathy and
+clairvoyance. Nothing much, really."
+
+"That isn't much, my friend."
+
+"Why? What else is there?" Smith smiled for the first time. "I didn't
+know--" He shook his head, suddenly, to clear it. He felt tilted. He
+looked and he saw that everything was straight, but still he felt
+tilted. He tried to right himself, and down he went. On his stomach he
+lay, his legs twisted under him a little. Foolishly, he tried to get up.
+He couldn't.
+
+"There's that." The girl laughed. "Suggestion without the need for
+hypnotism."
+
+Smith stood up, said, "I see what you mean."
+
+"Think so?"
+
+It began to rain. A brisk wind came up abruptly, and off in the distance
+Smith heard the roar of thunder. It came closer. Still closer. Like in a
+straight line. Smith watched the lightnings prance.
+
+"We'd better get back to the school!" he cried. He didn't think she
+could hear his voice above the thunder. He started to shout again, but
+lightning crackled before his eyes. Between him and the girl. Something
+rumbled, and Smith started to fall. They had been blasted off the crag,
+and now they hurtled down through the sheets of hot rain....
+
+"Feel yourself," the girl told him. The huge crimson sun still sat on
+the horizon. The air was hot and warm and Smith was dry.
+
+"Suggestion," she smiled again. "Most of us have it to some degree, but
+we of Bortinot have it still more. Still think you should be a
+dominant?"
+
+"Well--" The girl's face swam before his eyes. Lovely. Smith took a step
+forward, reached out and placed his big hands on her shoulders.
+
+"Well what?" She was smiling.
+
+"What's your name?"
+
+"Geria."
+
+His lips were big and hers were little, if full. He quivered as he
+kissed her. "I love you, Geria."
+
+"I know it," she said.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"The reason I went outside to watch the sea," Smith said, "was because I
+didn't know how to get to room 4027. I didn't want to ask anyone, not
+after--"
+
+"That makes sense. I'll take you, Smith. I'm just down the hall from
+you, anyway."
+
+"Thank you, Geria." Smith wondered how he knew her name was Geria. Nice
+name. "What happened after I thought there was a storm, Geria?" Smith
+suppressed a smile.
+
+"Oh, nothing much. I just planted another suggestion in your mind. For
+now you've forgotten, but you will remember. Shall we go?"
+
+They walked back down the path from the top of the crag, and soon Smith
+saw other students in groups of two and three. Ahead was the long low
+school, a dull rectangle of metal perhaps two miles long and half as
+wide. With Geria, Smith entered through one of the hundreds of doorways
+and followed her wordlessly up a mechanical staircase.
+
+They flashed past many landings, and after a time Smith followed the
+girl across one of them and into a long hall.
+
+"Simple," she said. "You have the twenty-seventh room here on the
+fortieth floor. Mine is room eighteen. Will we be seeing more of each
+other, Smith?"
+
+"As much as you'd like," he said, but it made him feel foolish. He had
+merely spoken to the girl for a few minutes, and yet he could not quite
+fathom his emotions. To some extent she had made him feel the same as
+had the man Jorak, and yet she liked him. She wanted to see more of him.
+She said so.
+
+"Smith, you're blushing again. I tell you what: if you can do that every
+day, then I will see you every day. It's so nice and--unaffected."
+
+Was that the word she really had in mind? Smith remembered once when he
+was little, a farmer had come to the city and everyone had called him an
+ancient word which they said came from a still more ancient name. Rube
+they had called him. Rube. He didn't like it. He had had a fight, Smith
+recalled, and a big plateglass window was broken. He went to jail for a
+few weeks on the moon, and after that he didn't come to the city any
+more. Smith was little at the time, but he had never forgotten the look
+on the farmer's face when the security officers took him off to the moon
+rocket.
+
+Had he known it, Jorak would have used the word rube, but what about
+Geria?
+
+The green number on the white door was painted sharply--4027. "Here's my
+room," Smith said. He tried an indifferent wave, but it hardly worked,
+and he began to blush again.
+
+Geria skipped lightly down the hall, and he couldn't see her face to
+tell if she were smiling. He shrugged, opened the door.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"Earthsmith! Oh, no ... I come half way across the galaxy to get here,
+so what are the odds against any particular room mate? Huge, that's
+what. But I got me--hello, Earthsmith."
+
+It was the purple man, Jorak. He had just recently greased his shock of
+bright green hair, and he had turned away from the mirror when Smith
+opened the door. Now he turned back to the tinted glass and held his
+head at various angles.
+
+"Well, can you change rooms if you want to?" Smith asked pleasantly.
+
+"You're not going to chase me out of my own room, Earthsmith. You can
+change if you'd like. Not me."
+
+"All right if you want me to I'll change."
+
+"If I want you to! Don't pass the blame to me, Earthsmith. I didn't say
+a thing about changing, not me. Don't you think I'm good enough for
+you?"
+
+"I don't care one way or the other," Smith said. "I suggested you change
+because I thought you'd be happier that way. Look, I'll mind my own
+business and pretend you are not even here. How's that?"
+
+"Pretend I'm not here? Like cepheid you will. If you want to be ornery,
+Smith, or Earthsmith, or whatever your name is, I'll give you plenty to
+be ornery about. I'm a dominant, you know, so just watch out."
+
+"I'll change if that will make you happy." Smith didn't want any
+trouble. He still felt more than a little strange and out of place here,
+and a fight with Jorak wouldn't help matters. Briefly, he wondered what
+sort of psi-powers Jorak possessed.
+
+The purple man stood up. "What kind of a slap in the face is that? We
+haven't even started courses or anything. You think I'd need you to help
+me with my work or something?"
+
+"No, I'm quite sure you wouldn't. But I'll change my room, anyway. I'll
+probably get in your way--"
+
+"Well, _I_ wouldn't get into _your_ hair, satellite-head! If you think
+you're going to leave here and say I started a fight or something.... My
+father made quite a record for himself here at the school, and I'll have
+to beat it, of course."
+
+"Of course," Smith agreed, but he did not really know why.
+
+"Are you implying anyone, just anyone, could top my father's record,
+Earthsmith? Not a man from Gyra ever did it, and intellectually Gyra is
+top planet in its own sector. Not a woman from Bortinot came close, but
+then, you probably don't even know where Bortinot is."
+
+Smith said no, he didn't, but he had just met a woman from Bortinot.
+Perhaps if he changed the subject....
+
+Jorak ran his fingers up along each side of his shock of hair. They came
+away greasy green. "Exquisite, those women of Bortinot. But then, you
+probably wouldn't appreciate them, eh, Earthsmith?"
+
+Smith said that he could appreciate them very well indeed, especially
+since, except for a few minor structural differences, they looked like
+women of Earth. It was a mistake, and the muscles in Jorak's cheeks
+began to twitch.
+
+"I say they look exquisite, you say they look like women of Earth. Which
+is it, Earthsmith? Not both, surely--a contradiction in terms. I believe
+you're trying to provoke me."
+
+Smith sighed. He wanted no trouble--they had spent a year with him on
+Earth, indoctrinating that. He was to be a paragon at the school, as
+Earth's first student there, he had to be a paragon--even if he turned
+out to be more awkward in this situation than the farmer on Earth
+everyone had called Rube.
+
+"I think I will go to sleep," Smith said.
+
+"Why, don't you men of Earth ever eat, Smith?"
+
+Smith said yes, they ate, but he wasn't very hungry now. As a matter of
+fact, he was ravenously hungry, but he did not relish the idea of going
+to some public eating place either with Jorak or alone. His heart began
+to beat a little faster when he thought that he might meet Geria if he
+did, but then he felt the heat rise up his neck and into his cheeks.
+He'd hardly know what to say to her, and besides, he knew there was
+something he should remember but couldn't quite. No, he'd skip dinner
+this first day at the school.
+
+Now he watched Jorak open the door and step into the hallway, and for a
+moment he heard gay voices and the shuffling of many feet, and Jorak's
+voice louder than the rest: "Kard of Shilon! How long has it been? I can
+remember that day near Raginsdild...."
+
+Smith turned to the window, and for a long time he sat watching the fat
+red sun.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+He got up early and he showered, and then he heard a clicking sound. Two
+cards had been deposited in a tray from a slot in the wall. At the top
+of one were the words "Jorak of Gyra," and Smith's name and planet were
+printed on the other. He picked it up and began to read, and then Jorak
+sat up and took the other card.
+
+"Programs," said Jorak. "Everyone takes transtellar history, of course,
+and a section or two in the humanities. My electives are Wortan fighting
+and dream-empathy."
+
+Smith smiled. "Me too--same program. I suppose we'll be in class
+together, Jorak."
+
+"Rather stupid," the purple man observed. "They've given you a
+dominant's program. But then, I remember you questioned your receptive
+classification, and the registrar's known to do this on occasion, just
+to put you in your place. You'll be in Garlonian dancing in a few days,
+Earthsmith."
+
+"Well, I sure hope not. I didn't come here to learn how to dance--"
+
+"Hah! So what? If you're an R you'll learn how to dance and like it.
+Cook, too. There's no such thing as a misfit at the school, not
+permanently. They'll find you out soon enough, Earthsmith. Hmmm, wait
+till Kard of Shilon finds out what they've put in Wortan. Kard's top man
+in his sector, and it's just possible they'll pair you off with him.
+
+"Well, you going to eat this morning? I'd hate to see you in Wortan
+without a good meal in you. But I suppose it really wouldn't help,
+anyway. Coming, Earthsmith?"
+
+There weren't any people out in the hall this early, and Smith breathed
+more easily when they moved in a direction opposite that of Geria's
+room. Soon they had descended a score of levels, and the moving ramp
+became more crowded. Smith tried to ignore the eager hum of
+conversation, but it was all around him. He realized he should be
+feeling that way too. But you couldn't drum up a student's eager
+appetite within yourself, not when you didn't feel that way, not when
+your entire planet waited to see how you made out here and you felt
+unsure of yourself, even in such simple things as eating.
+
+That part of it at least turned out better than Smith had hoped. There
+were eggs, and while he was sure he would not recognize the fowl if he
+saw it, he could at least order his over-light and get something
+familiar. And there were long strips of fatty meat which almost could
+have been bacon, except Smith was sure the pig wouldn't be a pig at all.
+
+And Smith was lost in the hordes of white men, green men, purple, orange
+and brown, and no one paid him too much attention. Jorak busied himself
+remembering old times with a gruff burly orange man named Kard, whose
+planet was Shilon, and Smith ate in silence. Once he thought he saw
+Geria far off at another table, but it could have been his imagination,
+and when he looked again she was gone.
+
+Home, Smith always had been a quick eater, but now he found himself
+pawing at his food. Soon the great dining room began to clear. Jorak and
+Kard leaned back in their chairs, watching Smith.
+
+Jorak yawned. "How long does it take you to breakfast?"
+
+"Different rate of digestion on Earth," Kard suggested.
+
+"Don't be foolish. Earthsmith's in no hurry to attend his first class,
+so he's loafing. Right, Earthsmith?"
+
+Smith mumbled something about unfamiliar food under his breath, and
+Jorak said, "Well, no matter. We'll give you another moment or two,
+Earthsmith. Then we'll have to be going. We all three have transtellar
+history, you know."
+
+Smith knew it all too well. Gyra and Bortinot and Shilon were so many
+names to him and he silently cursed Earth's provincial histories. For
+those here at the school, the three names and a hundred others might be
+magical stepping stones to the culture, the lore, the history of a
+galaxy--but all Smith knew now was that Jorak came from Gyra, and so
+some of Gyra's people at least must be purple, that Geria came from
+Bortinot where the women were D and the men were R and where the women
+looked like those of Earth, that Kard, finally, came from a place that
+bore the name Shilon, where some of the men at least were orange. But
+Shilon could have been anyplace from the hub to the fringe, Gyra might
+swim dizzily out near Ophiuchus or it might be the new culture name for
+one of Earth's near neighbors. And Bortinot--he wished he knew more
+about Bortinot.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+The instructor of transtellar history was a little fat man with a round
+gold face and green eyes that blinked too much. He wore the tight black
+uniform of the instructor and his green armband proclaimed his subject
+to be history. He smiled too much, too vacantly, as if he had been
+practicing it a long time and now forgot what it really meant.
+
+"Greetings!" he cried jovially, after everyone had been seated on the
+long low benches around the room. "I bring you history. No one is to
+talk unless I tell him to. Everyone is to listen unless I tell him not
+to. Clear?" He smiled.
+
+No one said anything.
+
+"Excellent. History encompasses thousands of years and countless cubic
+parsecs. Only the big things count. We will forget the little things.
+Little things belong to little people and we of the school are the elite
+of a transtellar culture. Questions?"
+
+There were none.
+
+"Good, because I have some. What would you say was the first event of
+importance? Luog of Panden, talk."
+
+Said green-skinned Luog, a very young Pandenian: "You mean ever?"
+
+"I would have specified had I meant otherwise. Yes, ever. Talk, Luog of
+Panden."
+
+"Well--"
+
+"Halt a moment, please. Who thinks the question is a relative one which
+cannot properly be answered? I clair it is Brandog of Hulpin."
+
+An albino woman three seats down from Smith flushed. "I am sorry," she
+said.
+
+"Who told you to talk now? This is not Hulpin, Brandog. The course is
+intensive. You must concentrate. Concentrate, concentrate, concentrate.
+No extraneous thoughts." The instructor smiled. "Luog of Panden, talk."
+
+Smith felt the little beads of sweat forming on his forehead. The
+instructor could read minds--and how many of these others could? They
+just sat there as if it were the most natural thing in the world....
+
+Only Brandog of Hulpin seemed ruffled, and it would be many moments
+before her albino skin looked again like soft alabaster. But no one
+seemed to notice. Luog was saying, "--exodus from the prehistoric Sirian
+worlds to the first culture in the Denebian system, the Var one. More
+than ten thousand Vars ago."
+
+"Satisfactory for a Receptive, Luog of Panden," the instructor smiled.
+"The Dominants would go back a bit further and talk of the Sirian wars,
+but that much is a matter of opinion, since the wars are largely
+mythical, anyway. And so we have set the stage for history. We have--"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Smith wanted to get up indignantly and tell the instructor, tell them
+all, what the most glorious epochs of history really were. You would
+find it in the museums of earth, on the plaques and in the statues and
+on the old old records of Earth. There was a lot Smith wanted to tell
+them because there was so much only he could tell them, so much they had
+forgotten.
+
+But he merely sat and stared politely at the black-uniformed instructor.
+You don't show yourself as a provincial--what was the word?--rube, not
+when your culture, while temporarily the oldest, is in a lot of ways the
+most neophite of them all.
+
+You just sat and stared, looking interested.
+
+The instructor's voice cut into his thoughts, "Earth of Smith--"
+
+"Smith of Earth," he said, automatically.
+
+"I did not tell you to talk, Smith of Earth. And if your card says Earth
+of Smith, how am I to know? A mistake, yes--but an understandable one.
+I'm a historian, and I have heard of neither planet. Where is this
+Earth? Talk, Smith!"
+
+He stood up, although it wasn't really necessary, and he could feel his
+knees trembling slightly. "Earth is a few parsecs from Sirius, and
+Sirius I think you know."
+
+"I know Sirius. Now talk!"
+
+"What is it you want me to say? I don't feel much like talking--"
+
+"Yet you speak so loud that the room fairly rocks with it. I wanted you
+to tell us why you did not agree with the answer just now rendered. It
+is, I feel, a good one. Talk."
+
+"Then I agree, it is a good one." Smith did not want to get involved. He
+wanted to be a good, quietly efficient student. Nothing more. But he
+forgot that the instructor could read minds.
+
+"You lie, Smith of Earth. I won't go into it any further, because it is
+your privilege if you want to lie. But you are not to listen for the
+remainder of this lecture. Do not listen."
+
+Smith nodded, cursed himself mentally because he had made such a mess of
+things here at his very first lecture, and headed for the door.
+
+"Smith of Earth! Just where under the red sun do you think you are
+going?"
+
+"You told me not to listen, so--"
+
+"I didn't say talk. Talk now."
+
+"--so I'm leaving the room."
+
+"No one leaves until the lecture has been concluded. Sit if you will, or
+stand, but stay here. And do not listen."
+
+Smith nodded, turned back to the row of benches dumbly. He found a place
+next to Brandog of Hulpin, sat near the albino woman. Down the bench, he
+saw Jorak grinning broadly. Smith did not know how he was going to sit
+there without listening, but he decided he'd better not ask that
+question now.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"This is your course in Wortan fighting," boomed the giant of an
+instructor. "Dominants only, or such Receptives as question their
+classification." The instructor's massive face was beefy, the color of
+new-spilled blood, and the muscles rippled and bulged and seethed under
+his black uniform.
+
+"Me for this!" confided Kard of Shilon, slapping Smith's back. "Perhaps
+Jorak has told you that I am not without ability on the Wortan mats."
+
+Smith hardly heard him. Two dozen paces across the room, on the other
+side of the circle that surrounded the instructor, stood Geria, hands on
+hips, lips soft-smiling when she saw Smith, silver tunic to her knees,
+yellow hair hanging free to shoulders.
+
+"Join me, Smith of Earth?" she called, and knees watery again, Smith
+made his way around the circle.
+
+While Jorak gaped, Geria took Smith's hand when they met half way around
+the circle, and she smiled up at him. "I wouldn't have believed it, but
+you're blushing again. Earth trait, Smith?"
+
+"No, not really," he stammered.
+
+The slim girl was about to say something, but the instructor cleared his
+throat ominously, and the room became silent again. "Now, then,"
+declared the giant, "there's no trick to fighting with psi-powers.
+Anyone can do that, and the women of Bortinot, as you know, are
+particularly adept. But the people of Wortan have no such powers, and
+they must depend on tooth and nail, on sinew and bone and animal
+cunning. Such is the way the Wortanians do battle--and, purely for
+sport, such is the way of Wortan fighting. Any questions?"
+
+"Yes," Geria told him, "I have one. Are we not permitted to use any
+psi-powers?"
+
+"None. They disqualify you."
+
+"Well, then I suppose I must withdraw from the course. I can't be
+expected to stand up to a man physically. I'm not built that way--and
+very few women are, Dominant or Receptive."
+
+Smith had not expected this, but now he felt a warm glow in his breast.
+He almost wanted to put his arm about the woman's shoulders,
+protectively. How could such a delicate beautiful thing be expected to
+fight?
+
+The instructor said, "I won't argue with you. I can't remember a woman
+ever lasting in Wortan fighting, but if they're Dominants they're
+automatically entered. The rest of you can do like--"
+
+The words came out before Smith could stop them. "In that case, can
+anyone tell me the difference between a Dominant and a Receptive?"
+
+There was a lot of laughter in the room, and Smith thought it would have
+been the same had he, as a child, asked the difference between boy and
+girl. "Ah, old Earthsmith!" he heard Jorak's voice. "Everytime he opens
+his mouth new wisdom spews forth."
+
+Pale eyes looked out of the instructor's blood-red face. "Obviously,
+you're joking. I'm here to answer questions, among other things, but you
+couldn't be serious."
+
+And Smith heard his own dull voice reply:
+
+"No, certainly not. I was only joking."
+
+Said Geria, "Silly, a Dominant has more psi-powers, that's all. But you
+really didn't know, did you?"
+
+"There are no psi-powers on Earth to speak of," Smith reminded her.
+
+"Hmm, very true. In that case, maybe you're all Receptives--male and
+female. But don't feel too badly, Smith; Wortan's the same way, and
+Wortan has a first-rate culture. Look: they even have an instructor here
+at the school."
+
+The instructor of Wortan fighting was a Wortanian, of course. And here,
+in Wortan fighting, Smith might feel at home. But he hardly expected to
+excel at the school by breaking someone's back, or pinning him
+helplessly to the Wortan mat. Suddenly he found himself thinking of
+Earth, thinking of the trust that had been put in him as Earth's first
+student at the school. But his thoughts did not remain there long--his
+eyes took in the soft yellow of Geria's hair, and Earth faded far away.
+
+"--volunteers," the instructor was saying. "Does anyone want to step on
+the mat with me for a fall or two?"
+
+"I recommend Earthsmith," came Jorak's voice. "Positively--Earthsmith's
+your man."
+
+Smith felt his face becoming very red again, but Geria nudged him with
+an elbow. "Go ahead, Smith--why not? You told me once you didn't fear
+anyone in the room of the registrar, not in physical combat. Go ahead."
+
+"I know, but--"
+
+"Go ahead, Smith. Show me."
+
+He could do that. Yes, he could show her. But what if he were
+wrong--they might know a trick or two that would make him look foolish.
+And he wouldn't want that, not in front of Geria. "I am tired," he said.
+"I didn't sleep well last night."
+
+The instructor rescued him. "I didn't ask you to recommend. I asked for
+volunteers. But you who spoke, what's your name?"
+
+"I am Jorak of Gyra," said Jorak, purple face paling.
+
+"You'll do. On the mat, man of Gyra."
+
+Jorak stepped forward, slowly, in no hurry to meet the giant. Smith
+heard Kard's mocking laugh. "Ho, Jorak--he'll tear you in half. Now if
+he had asked for a man of Shilon ... a real man...."
+
+And still laughing, the Shilonian heaved mightily with both his hands
+and sent Jorak stumbling out onto the mat. The man of Gyra fell and
+skidded on his stomach, turned over once and finally came up into a
+sitting position at the instructor's feet. Kard was grinning, but Jorak
+saw nothing funny in what had happened. He stood up slowly, wheezing,
+and his gaze raked the circle. It flicked past Kard rapidly, kept going,
+poised a moment on Geria, then reached Smith. Jorak shook his fist. "All
+right, Earthsmith, I'll get you for this."
+
+Geria smiled. "I would say that you have an enemy there."
+
+The instructor bellowed a warning and came for Jorak.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+For some reason Smith found he couldn't keep his eyes off the fray, and
+he found his own breath coming in ragged gasps. Geria watched with a
+dispassionate interest. "Poor man of Gyra," she said. "It might be a
+different story if he could use some of his psi-powers. The men of Gyra
+have a little of that, you know."
+
+"Well, why can't he?"
+
+"He'd be disqualified, shamed--and maybe worse. I never knew that
+psi-powers were not permitted on the Wortan mat, but I did know that the
+rules must be adhered to rigidly."
+
+The instructor's massive body stood between them and Jorak, and one of
+the great arms circled the man of Gyra's neck. Jorak's purple face
+glared straight at Smith, and his body thrashed and wriggled furiously,
+like a snake, head held fast by a forked stick. Abruptly, the instructor
+stepped back and let go. Jorak fell and lay writhing on the mat, legs
+and arms pounding.
+
+"Brute strength is what we want in Wortan," said the instructor,
+smoothing his black uniform.
+
+Said Kard of Shilon: "You outweigh Jorak, but I see your point. I wonder
+how you would do with a man of Shilon."
+
+The instructor smiled. "Well, we will pair off now. You can select me,
+if you wish. Those who want to drop out of the course, step back from
+the circle. We need room--"
+
+All the women moved away, slowly, reluctantly. They were Dominants,
+every one, and Smith sensed they longed to use their psi-powers. Some of
+them trembled nervously from the exhibition they had seen, some wiped
+sweat from white and pink and green brow. One tall albino woman seemed
+hesitant, stepped back toward the circle, but she backed away again when
+a gold man big as Kard of Shilon strode forward eagerly.
+
+Against the wall stood the dozen women, rapt eyes intent on the men as
+they paired off. And this, Smith thought bitterly, is culture. This is
+what Earth had missed by closing its star lanes. Well, Earth....
+
+"Don't sulk, Smith of Earth," Geria told him, and Smith realized,
+shamefully, that he had slunk off with the women. "I say there is
+something glorious about fighting tooth and nail. Not depraved,
+certainly, unless you insist on judging it by a hidebound ethic. Go back
+to the mats, Smith--for me."
+
+He looked long at the woman, saw no guile in her eyes. Who was he to
+judge? Could he dare pass judgment on a society that had left Earth
+behind a score of thousand years ago? The men of Earth hadn't sent him
+here, half way across the galaxy to do that.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+He turned and walked stiffly to the mats. By now the men had paired off
+two and two, stood facing each other in pairs. Kard of Shilon and the
+thick-thewed instructor, great gold man and chunky red, reed-slender
+green man and giant orange, albinos two like alabaster statues.
+
+From the circle came Jorak, hands to bruised neck. He stopped, looked
+Smith up and down grimly, smiled. "You have no partner, Earthsmith?"
+
+"I'm looking for one."
+
+"Well, look no more. I am tired and hurt, but I'd like to join you on
+the mat." He shrugged. "Of course, if you're afraid--"
+
+Smith still did not feel like fighting. It might as well be Jorak as any
+other--he certainly had more reason to fight Jorak. Vaguely, it seemed a
+needless expenditure of energy. But he had done it again: he had put the
+shoe on the wrong foot--he, Smith, stood up for judgment, not the
+school. "Good enough, Jorak," he said.
+
+In a moment, the instructor signaled them all to begin, and Smith had
+one brief look at the dozen pairs of men, grappling, heard the
+instructor shout, "one fall, and one fall only!" And then Jorak was upon
+him.
+
+Jorak seemed for all the world like a snake, writhing and twisting with
+a deceptive sinewy strength. But calmly Smith stepped out of his reach,
+cuffing his ears roundly when he came too close.
+
+"You're afraid, afraid, afraid!" Jorak taunted. "Fight!"
+
+Smith shrugged. If he did not want to fight, he did not want to. But the
+women hooted, and they were hooting him, all but Geria who remained
+glumly silent.
+
+"This is getting me nowhere," Jorak hissed. "You're making me look like
+a fool, Earthsmith." Perspiration bathed the purple face, stained the
+sides of Jorak's tunic darkly.
+
+And then he smiled. Smith felt giddy, hardly could keep his legs under
+him, yet hardly had Jorak touched him. Then the man of Gyra was using
+his psi-powers, despite the sanction. Oddly, Smith felt detached from it
+all. Let him use his powers then--that would end it. Let him....
+
+"Fight back, Smith!" Geria cried.
+
+Jorak's powers were not like the woman's. He could induce giddiness,
+yes, but not in any overpowering quantities. Smith swayed foolishly,
+tipped first to left, then to right, stood for a moment with arms at
+sides. Jorak rushed upon him and struck out with both fists, and Smith
+stumbled back half a dozen steps, crashed into a pair of struggling
+figures, was dimly aware that both fell.
+
+Jorak came on, cocky, confident, and Smith rocked for a moment on the
+balls of his feet. Once and once only he lashed out with his right arm,
+smeared Jorak's nose flat against his face. Jorak toppled backward and
+fell, writhing.
+
+Smith looked around him, panting. The other contestants ceased their
+struggles, and the instructor said:
+
+"Someone has used psi. I don't know who, but someone--"
+
+Jorak pointed weakly, said, "Earthsmith!"
+
+"Snap judgment," the instructor admitted. "Your word only. Still, you
+alone were bested, Jorak of Gyra--and, hah, that makes twice, doesn't
+it?"
+
+"Once with psi," said Jorak.
+
+"You sure?"
+
+"I ought to know what hit me! He held me rigid, I tell you, and then he
+struck me. What could I do? I ask you, what?"
+
+Smith knew that the instructor could read minds--with limitations. He
+knew the psi-power had been used, but he did not know who had used it.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Jorak wiped the blood from his face with the back of one hand. "Listen,"
+he confided, "Earthsmith is a savage, really and truly, of the planet
+Earth. Terribly barbaric. Obviously, he'd have no compunctions against
+dirty fighting."
+
+"Well--" said the instructor.
+
+"There's only one thing wrong with all this," Smith told him. "Nobody on
+Earth uses psi-power."
+
+Jorak slapped his hand against the mat. "Then you admit that there are
+psi-powers on Earth?"
+
+"Yes," Smith said. "There are psi-powers on Earth." Things were
+happening to Smith. He felt vague stirrings inside of him, and he
+dampered them.
+
+"There. He admits it," Jorak said. "The men of Earth are not without
+their psi-powers, and Smith or Earthsmith--I still don't know the
+barbarian's name--used them on me." He shook his fist. "You just can't
+trust these barbarians."
+
+The instructor still did not seem sure of himself, but there were angry
+mutterings in the crowd, and the albino woman who had almost but not
+quite joined the fighters said, "Let me try a fall with him. Probably I
+would lose, but we of Nugat can perceive the psi-powers readily."
+
+Smith stormed away from her, felt hot anger rushing through him. "I
+wouldn't fight with a woman."
+
+Jorak taunted, "He's afraid she'll discover--"
+
+"Nothing! I'm afraid of nothing, Jorak. I just won't fight a woman." He
+was shouting now, and he couldn't help it. Again, there was the odd
+feeling that part of his mind at least stood away from all this,
+observing, shaking its head and telling him to curb his temper.
+
+A hand lay heavily on his shoulder, big gnarled, orange. "Kard of Shilon
+would like a fall with you, Earthsmith of Earth. Perhaps I am not as
+subtle as the woman from Nugat, but still I think I could tell."
+
+The instructor nodded, and Kard spun Smith around, kept him spinning
+with a short chopping blow to his jaw. Smith hardly felt it. But
+something told him deep inside his whirling brain to fall, fall,
+fall--and the faintest shadow of a smile flickered across Jorak's lips.
+
+Win or lose--what was the difference? Those who could would feel the
+psi-powers, and Smith would be their man.
+
+By crotch and collar he caught the huge man of Shilon, lifted him.
+Kard's arms and legs flailed air, helplessly. He bellowed as Smith began
+to whirl, slowly at first, but then faster. Up he raised the great
+orange hulk, held it aloft on outstretched arms for one moment--hurled
+it.
+
+Arms and legs still flailing wildly, Kard struck the mat, seemed almost
+to bounce, landed in a heap atop Jorak.
+
+Geria jumped up and down delightedly, but the woman of Nugat scowled.
+"Psi," she said. "I felt it."
+
+"As did I," admitted the instructor. "Faintly. Smith of Earth--"
+
+"Don't tell me you didn't see me use my arms then, just my arms?"
+
+"Kard appeared awful helpless--"
+
+"I felt the psi," said the woman of Nugat.
+
+"And I," a man agreed.
+
+"As I said," Jorak declared smugly, "when you bring a barbarian to the
+school you must expect barbarous behavior. Oh well," he stifled a yawn,
+"I'll get my nose fixed, of course, but this sort of thing could
+continue. Unpleasant, is it not?"
+
+The instructor nodded slowly, dismissed class.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"Did you or didn't you, Smith?"
+
+"What do you think, Geria?"
+
+"I'd say no, but I did feel the psi when you threw Kard."
+
+"That was Jorak--and he used it on me."
+
+"Not very strong then, because I remember how readily I--"
+
+"Look, Geria. What's the difference? They've made up their minds, and I
+can't do a thing about it. I didn't use the psi, I can tell you that and
+you'll believe me. But it doesn't matter, really. They're convinced.
+What happens next?"
+
+The woman of Bortinot frowned. "I don't know. They could expel you
+possibly. You forget I'm new at the school, too. Let's forget all about
+it. You will, anyway, in dream empathy."
+
+It was easy for her to say that, but Smith couldn't forget. The more he
+had tried to convince them he had not employed the psi-power, could not
+employ it, the more they thought that he did. He was of Earth--primitive
+by their standards, a barbarian. They had said so. Culture had leaped
+past Earth in all directions, had leaped so far that he could not even
+recognize it as such, had encompassed the stars and broad new concepts
+as big as the parsecs of space between the stars. How could he
+understand--ever?
+
+Or was there anything to understand? If he could take everything at its
+face value, if he could trust his own judgment, this was not culture at
+all. But he had forgotten again: his judgment didn't matter. He was
+being judged, not the school.
+
+"--be strictly a neophyte in dream empathy," Geria was saying. "But not
+me. I've had my share of it on Bortinot, and they'll be pairing us off,
+experienced and novice. I'll take you as a partner if you'd like,
+Smith."
+
+"You bet I'd like it!" He felt genuinely cheerful again, quite suddenly.
+Geria was the one bright spot at the school, and at least he had that.
+And yet there was something he could not remember, something pushing
+against the fringes of consciousness, and it concerned Geria. What
+actually had happened yesterday on the crags? He could remember,
+remember--but he couldn't at all, not really, and somehow he knew that
+the most important item of all remained tantalizingly close, yet just
+beyond his immediate reach.
+
+He said, "Just what is this dream empathy?"
+
+"Now you _are_ joking."
+
+"No. I don't know a thing about it."
+
+"What do you people of Earth do for entertainment?"
+
+"Well, we talk, or we dance, or we play games, ride horses, take walks
+in the country, see a show--anything anyone else does, I guess."
+
+"No one else does any of that, because d.e.'s a lot better. You know
+anything about dreams, Smith?"
+
+"A little. Very little. They've always been something of a mystery on
+Earth."
+
+"Well, do you read or watch the telios on Earth?"
+
+"Of course. But it's strictly local stuff on Earth. That's why I'm
+here."
+
+"Well, if it's fiction, why do you read?"
+
+"Excitement I guess. Interest, suspense. I watch the hero, I struggle
+with him, succeed when he does if the book's a good one--"
+
+"Exactly. You go into empathy with him. Smith--how would you like to do
+that--with me?"
+
+"Hunh?"
+
+"Take a dream. I dream it, not you. It's a good one, under control. A
+vivid dream, more real than life itself in a lot of ways, emotions
+highlighted, maintained, increased--and exactly what I want to dream
+because I know we'll both like it.
+
+"I dream it, not you. But you feel it with me. You grow tired of your
+own thoughts, so you switch in on someone else's. Control there.
+Gorgeous dreams, fantastic dreams, even horrible ones, if both would
+like it. Complete empathy--in a dream world.
+
+"Then later, when you're experienced, you dream and I emp. How does it
+sound, Smith?"
+
+He smiled. "Not much privacy. But I'd be a liar if I said I wouldn't
+want to take a peek at your dreams, Geria. It sounds fine."
+
+Geria laughed softly, a lilting feminine sound. "It's a little more
+private than that, provided I know what I'm doing. There's a control. I
+can dream what I want, and can restrict it. You'll see."
+
+Smith very much wanted to see. Almost, he forgot about Jorak and the
+psi-power. But briefly in his mind he saw the black uniformed giant from
+Wortan, felt again the flailing Kard raised high overhead, saw
+accusation in the woman of Nugat's eyes....
+
+ * * * * *
+
+They lay on two adjacent couches, Smith and the woman of Bortinot. A
+bare cubicle of a room with just the two couches in it. A door, now
+closed, led into a room in which they had received their instructions.
+But Smith hardly had listened. Geria knew the game well enough, and he'd
+let it go at that. The rasping voice of the female instructor had
+annoyed him, anyway, but he noticed that she was a woman of Bortinot,
+not beautiful like Geria, but of her planet nonetheless.
+
+"Psi-powers again," Geria told him. "Hypnotism and telepathy mostly.
+You'll see...."
+
+Something which looked like a candle-flame seen through a long dark tube
+flickered from the ceiling. It came closer, steadied, flickered no more.
+Smith couldn't draw his eyes away from it.
+
+"You're asleep," Geria told him, matter-of-factly.
+
+He was. Not really, because in sleep there was a lack of awareness. But
+he could not move and everything was dark and he could only think.
+
+He felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. A mind without a body, in complete
+darkness. The tingle of awareness which you hardly regard as such
+because it always is with you was gone. Nothing.
+
+And then it returned. He felt his heart beating again. His ear itched
+and he scratched it. He shifted his left arm which had fallen asleep.
+
+Oddly, the ceiling light had moved. It had been just to the right of
+center--now it was just to the left, flickering again, retreating. It
+was gone.
+
+He turned over on his left side, sleepily, contentedly--on the brink of
+real sleep. Geria knew what she was doing. He'd rest. He looked--at his
+own sleeping figure!
+
+Madness toyed with the edges of his mind, gained inroads, made him look
+again. The silent figure to his left--himself. He raised his hands, felt
+the hair, long, flowing, billowing about his head--looked down, could
+see the gentle rounded rise of breast.
+
+A voice nibbled at consciousness, repeated itself, became clearer,
+laughing: "_We will go to sleep now, Smith. How does it feel to be here
+with me? Let's dream. Dream--_"
+
+The voice reassured, and Smith-Geria relaxed, slept.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+_He, Geria of Bortinot--really she, then--stood on a hill. A weathered
+hill and aged, on a frigid world where winds of winter raged and howled
+and battered mountains into submissive mounds. Fearful place, grim and
+almost dead it was--and yet he liked it. Smiling, he stood atop the hill
+and bade the tempest strike. The winds hurled him headlong and he
+stumbled, but he felt elated, wild and free, part of the elements that
+did battle there in that country of the weathered hills. And there were
+others and they were men. They came up the hill and they tried to take
+him in their arms, strong men and fair, but he ran laughing with the
+wind. His identity faded in that wind, was torn to tatters by it--left
+only was Geria of Bortinot, her feelings, her thoughts, but his
+awareness.
+
+She stumbled, fell, turned over and over, much too slowly. Winds still
+howled, but above her here at hill's bottom. Wraiths of fog swirled in
+eddying gusts, came closer and faded, appeared again and swept away.
+
+She cried a name because the fog brought her an image and the name and
+the image were one._ "Smith of Earth, of Earth, of Earth...." _And he
+came to her, this image, on a charger, an animal much too thick through
+the shoulders to be a horse, with three pairs of legs. Low out of saddle
+he leaned, graceful, handsome bald head pink with excitement. He
+clutched at her, lifted her through the mists, above them. The
+six-legged horse soared high, above the hills, above the winds, carried
+her higher and higher. Smith stroked her yellow hair, kissed her. She
+tingled...._
+
+[Illustration]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"Wake up Smith! Up, come on now, the class is over for today."
+
+He stirred. The dream--Gods of Earth, what a dream!
+
+"Well, how'd you like it? See what I mean about dream empathy, Smith?
+Beats everything, doesn't it?"
+
+Smith hardly heard her. They say dreams fulfill wishes, they say--and
+what was it Geria had dreamed? Suddenly, it was very important to Smith,
+terribly important, more important than anything, because he remembered,
+without knowing how or why, what had happened yesterday on the crags.
+
+"Geria," he said. He tried to make his voice soft, but it boomed loudly,
+almost startled her.
+
+"What's the matter?"
+
+"Nothing. Why nothing is the matter. You remember yesterday on the crag,
+Geria?"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"And your dream--Geria?"
+
+Again, the casual nod.
+
+"Geria, I--I love you. I think I want to marry you. I think--"
+
+He stopped. She looked at him for what seemed a long time but really was
+only a few seconds, and then she grinned. There was nothing malicious
+about it, Smith knew, just a grin. It spread, and the woman of Bortinot
+began to laugh. Softly at first, but soon she was laughing very hard and
+Smith felt foolish. He wanted very much to be out of there, any place
+but in that room, but he did not know for sure that he knew how to
+operate the door.
+
+"Oh, Smith, Smith," she said, "if you could see yourself now. But I
+suppose I deserve it. I planted the suggestion, you fought it, now
+you're pretending. All right, I admit defeat. But stop now; you should
+see your face."
+
+Serious. She was serious. She thought he was joking. Post-suggestively
+you tried to get someone to do something--anything, and it was very very
+funny if they did. Funnier yet if they didn't, because then they beat
+you at your own game, made fun of you, laughed at you, but eventually
+with you. Of course it was like that, let her think it was like that.
+
+He smiled. "All right, I'll--stop."
+
+And together, laughing, they walked out of the room. Smith was surprised
+to find he had no trouble at all with the door.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Jorak had a friendly smile for Smith when he entered their room.
+"There's a card for you in the box, Smith. Read it." Jorak, it seemed,
+had stopped playing with his name.
+
+Smith took the card, read it. "_Smith of Earth, report to Registrar at
+once._"
+
+"You know why, don't you?" Jorak asked him. But the smile was no longer
+friendly.
+
+"How should I know?"
+
+"Trouble, that's what. But you asked for it. Psi and Wortan don't mix,
+barbarian."
+
+Smith was glad when he hardly felt any impulse to strike the purple man.
+But he said, mocking Jorak's own tones, "Don't provoke me," and Jorak
+cowered in a corner.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Smith looked into the banks of the Registrar's lights, spoke into the
+speaker. "Smith of Earth," he said. This time his voice didn't boom with
+loudness. And it didn't seem to matter much anymore.
+
+And this time, the Registrar's voice wasn't so femininely petulant. It
+sounded masculine, authoritative.
+
+"Smith of Earth. Item. Garnot of Jlob feels you are an inferior history
+student, recommends withdrawal from the school.
+
+"Item: Sog-chafka of Wortan announces your wanton use of psi-powers in
+Wortan fighting, recommends clemency because you are a barbarian.
+
+"Item: Kard of Shilon wants to meet you in Wortan again. Promises to
+kill you.
+
+"Item: both Jorak of Gyra and Geria of Bortinot have questioned your
+mentality, want you tested."
+
+Vaguely Smith listened. He felt removed, resigned. But then certain
+words struck hard....
+
+"_ ... Geria of Bortinot questions your mentality...._
+
+"Smith of Earth. Are you listening?"
+
+"I'm listening," Smith said.
+
+"I feel you have two choices," the Registrar said. "We can request your
+withdrawal from the school, or we can keep you here under observation
+and give you an exhaustive battery of tests. The decision is in your
+hands."
+
+"_ ... Geria of Bortinot questions your mentality...._"
+
+"_ ... the decision is in your hands._"
+
+Jorak moved, slipped along the wall. His face was sneering and fearful
+too. The purple mask of his face seemed to swim before Smith's eyes like
+something seen through watered glass. Smith was pacing. He felt the
+emotions beginning to work yeastily and he longed to take that face and
+twist it off its snaky neck.
+
+"You had better go back to Earth, Smith," Jorak said. "Wherever it is."
+
+Abruptly, Smith felt the tendons writhing between his hands. He lifted.
+He held the squirming figure off the floor, held it there and looked
+into it curiously.
+
+"You'd better use some of your psi-power, my little green friend," Smith
+said, "While you can."
+
+The green face was turning purple. Words choked off somewhere down in
+the tubular length of the neck. Smith could feel it now! He could feel
+it! And he knew. The desperate tendrils of psi-power flailing out. And
+Smith began to smile.
+
+"I could tell you some things, Jorak. You have some psi-power, but that
+and anything else you've got, including some very bad features, you got
+them all from Earth. You got the germs for it all a long time back. And
+what you have left is just something that's a kind of left-over after a
+few thousand years. The Earth has forgotten more psi-power, friend, than
+you'll ever have."
+
+Jorak's eyes popped. Veins were coloring thickly through them.
+
+"You're here to learn something, Jorak. Listen. We developed psi-power
+on Earth so long ago we don't bother remembering when it was."
+
+Smith felt the power all right. Latent psi-power, dormant and unused and
+unneeded and uninteresting for aeons.
+
+He threw Jorak into the corner. Jorak curled up there, sucking in air
+and rubbing his bruised neck.
+
+"We had it. We threw it away," Smith said. "We had a defense against it
+too. But we don't use psi, or the defense anymore. We outgrew it. It had
+its day and then we forgot about it, Jorak. Why? We lost interest.
+Individual sanctity was better. Privacy of the human mind was something
+a lot more to be desired than being able to pry into someone else's
+brain, or vice versa. But you take a lot of pride, Jorak, in having a
+little residue floating around."
+
+Smith grinned more widely. It was funny in a way, and sad too. And he
+didn't particularly care about pushing it any further.
+
+"_ ... the decision is in your hands._"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+He wished his thoughts would organize, fuse somehow with the stirring,
+rebelling emotions. Integration right now was vital. You lose, or you're
+not equal to something. And a really top-notch defense-mechanism will
+turn the whole thing around and say IT is not equal to YOU. That's a
+danger. And of that he was afraid.
+
+Could he, should he, pass judgment? On a culture that had left Earth
+wallowing in the cosmic back-waters? Twice, thrice, he had tried to pass
+that judgment, but he could not. He should be judged, theoretically, not
+the school.
+
+So what if their concept of history was primitive, basking in its own
+importance, ignoring the philosophical precepts upon which the social
+sciences are based? Surely they had reason, and he shouldn't
+question....
+
+And if they valued Wortan fighting above all else ... if it made their
+women look like eager animals waiting to see the blood spill ... how
+could he question? Why should he dare assume that the whole culture was
+depraved, simply because he regarded it that way by Earth standards?
+
+And their dream empathy was enjoyable, he had to admit that--but it was
+too enjoyable. No wonder Earth had dropped that sort of thing long ago.
+It was a good gimmick to divert attention from important things. It was
+also regressive, a kind of sick introversion. It was decadence, an
+invasion of privacy, an offense against the dignity of human privacy of
+the mind--the individual's last precarious citadel.
+
+He jumped a little when the Registrar barked: "Your decision, Smith of
+Earth."
+
+He smiled at the bank of lights. He had broad duties. He had a duty to
+Earth. And an indirect duty to the Galaxy. He should report all this.
+And Earth should try to do something to bring many worlds out of sloth,
+decadence, regression and inverted self-importance.
+
+But first of all, a man had a duty to himself, his own psychic health.
+Maybe the two weren't inseparable either. Maybe Earth would share the
+humiliation if he, Smith, suffered its scars to remain on him.
+
+He wanted to consider himself as more than a mere projection of Earth,
+more than a mere symbol. He was of Earth, sure. But first of all he was
+Smith. Just plain Smith. A guy with a human spirit, with dignity that
+could be affronted and had been here.
+
+He thought of Geria, of what that dream empathy had suggested. He felt
+her lips again, the softly curving line of her hips under the silver
+tunic to her knees, the yellow hair falling free to shoulders....
+
+"Your decision, Smith of Earth," the Registrar's voice was louder.
+
+"I'm not going back to Earth," said Smith softly. "Yet."
+
+He watched Jorak slipping up the side of the wall, then rushing out the
+exit.
+
+Smith went to the exit too, then into the hall. He started walking down
+it, and the smile clung to his lips like an old memory.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+From the monochromatic light harmonies playing softly from the walls,
+from the abstract gentleness of music that never stopped filtering
+through the gardens and over the mists of fountains, from the
+ever-coruscating and subdued twilight that surrounded the school--from
+these things, Smith extracted the tone of decadence, the static,
+hidebound turning of a wheel upon itself.
+
+The women from Bortinot stared oddly at him as his bulk, high and broad
+passed near. He heard their whispers ... "barbarian ... savage...."
+
+His smile broadened. The cycle closed. Strange, how the old became
+decadent, and the young revolted and itself became sophisticated and
+sick, and the old became young again and the old values turned fresh and
+clear like a tree blooming out of winter's snow.
+
+The sounds of voices died abruptly as Smith went in. Faces turned ...
+Brandog of Hulpin with the albino skin like alabaster; Luog the young,
+green-skinned Pandenian ... varieties of form and color ... the white,
+pink, orange and green brows. But there was the sameness of inversion
+and static culture.
+
+Mouths gaped as Smith strode up to the front of the class room in
+transtellar history and looked curiously at the little man with the
+round gold face and green eyes that still blinked too much, and who,
+even now, smiled too much, too vacantly, as if he had been practicing a
+long time and had forgotten what it meant.
+
+But Garnot of Jlob's smile was slightly strained now and his face had a
+pale look, under its sheath of gold.
+
+"What a boorish intrusion," the instructor said. His voice got higher.
+"The entire school knows of course, Earth of Smith...."
+
+"Smith of Earth," Smith said softly.
+
+"Whatever it is, the entire school knows that already you have disgraced
+yourself and your planet--which was to be expected. And that I have
+recommended your withdrawal from the school as an inferior student."
+
+"And so," Smith said.
+
+"Therefore, it should be obvious that you are not particularly welcome
+as a member of this class. Surely you have not chosen to remain, and
+even if you have, it should be obvious that you will not be part of any
+class of mine until you have successfully passed certain tests, and have
+been kept under observation. Need I add that after you have taken these
+tests, we will not be expecting you to remain...."
+
+Several students tittered.
+
+"I'm going to talk now, Garnot of Jlob," Smith said. "You asked me
+questions earlier. Now I'm going to answer them."
+
+"But I did not...."
+
+"They're questions that should be answered, even though I'm not at all
+sure that there's enough free-thought here to grasp the real meaning of
+what I'm going to say."
+
+"I did not tell you to talk."
+
+"I'm Smith of Earth, and this is supposedly a free institution. On Earth
+I wasn't accustomed to being told when I could talk, when I could
+listen, when I could think. You asked me once where Earth is. I'll tell
+you."
+
+"But I do not care and...."
+
+"Earth, interstellarly speaking, is a few parsecs from Sirius.
+Spaceo-graphically speaking, it isn't very important where it is, not
+really. Historically, it was at the apex of civilized culture before
+Jlob ever existed except as a steaming carboniferous swamp peopled
+largely by a species of amphibian. Socio-psychologically, Earth is a few
+aeons ahead of the worlds so badly represented here."
+
+"You have not been told to talk!" screamed Garnot of Jlob.
+
+"But you are supposed to listen," Smith insisted. A gasp sounded through
+the room. "You asked what was the first interstellar event of
+importance. I'm going to tell you." He turned so that he was looking at
+the class. "It wasn't the exodus from the prehistoric Sirian worlds to
+the first culture in the Denebian system. Nor was it the Sirian wars.
+Those things didn't set the stage for Interstellar history. Interstellar
+history had already begun and grown old on the planet Earth, half a
+million years before...."
+
+An intensity boiled up through the wick of Smith's body. "The question
+itself is shallow, meaningless in an academic sense. It was asked only
+to be answered in such a way as to reinforce egotistical concepts of
+culture. The most important event in Interstellar history was when men
+on the planet Earth developed speech perhaps, or some other event even
+long before that ... and started the scientific process that led finally
+to the most glorious epoch in history. And what was that? I can remember
+with pride the engravings of the first proud Earth ships that blasted
+off for the Centaurian system aeons ago. And other pictures of the early
+days of the new Centaurian culture, and still others. Of discontent and
+over-population. And the migration to Sirius.
+
+"Or even earlier, of the stern, thin-lipped face of Matthew Merkle whose
+tincan of a spaceship carved a loop in space around the Moon--a
+satellite of Earth--and returned.
+
+"You think of history in terms of challenge and response, and the
+earlier challenges were the most significant ones. It was harder to get
+a spaceship across a mere quarter of a million miles to the Moon then,
+than it is to send it, translight, to the farthest star today."
+
+Garnot of Jlob was quivering. His face had a deep purplish cast.
+
+Smith turned completely around, his back to the instructor.
+
+"If you want the truth about interstellar history, my friends, come to
+Earth. That was where it started. That's where anything decent about it
+has remained. And I'm not at all sure that Earth isn't where it will end
+... if it ever really ends."
+
+Half way to the exit, he turned to Garnot of Jlob. "You can stop trying
+to use psi-power to make me shut up, you pompous phony."
+
+Laughing softly, Smith went out and down the hall. Behind him he heard a
+loud coughing as though someone was choking.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+The word had spread before him to the room where Sog-chafka of Wortan,
+and Kard of Shilon, and the crowd waited. The two giants were on the
+mats and around the rows of up-circling benches, were the eager, hungry
+faces of the women of Bortinot. The Dominants, their lips moist and
+slightly open and their eyes shiny with anticipation.
+
+Geria stared at him, her body shifting slightly, her lips apart and her
+teeth shining white, eyes glistening. He remembered how the kiss had
+been. He smiled at her. She seemed scornful now, a little sad, pitying,
+as he walked onto the mats.
+
+"Ah, Earthsmith," boomed the instructor. His massive blood-colored face
+was shiny as he stood there, muscles rippling and seething under the
+black uniform. Kard of Shilon grinned. The spectators laughed as Smith
+tripped on the mat and almost sprawled.
+
+Kard of Shilon said, "I'm going to kill you, Earthsmith."
+
+Smith said, "That's an odd way to express your elite tastes, Kard, but I
+can understand how you feel. Earth knew a lot of killing in its day."
+
+To Sog-chafka, Smith said, "You accused me of using psi-power in Wortan
+fighting. It was kind of you to recommend clemency. However, I deny the
+accusation."
+
+"He has psi-power," screamed Jorak of Gyra from the top bench. He shook
+green fists.
+
+"You said only a few Earthmen had psi-power," Sog-chafka said.
+
+"I didn't. I said it's never used on Earth. There's a difference."
+
+"You said you...."
+
+"Didn't use it," Smith said. "What psi-power you have, came from Earth.
+We of Earth developed it. But it's been a long time since we have
+bothered with it. But though I'm a little bit rusty now, I'll show
+you--"
+
+None of them ever knew what a dreadful moment that was for Smith ... who
+knew his capacity for psi-power, but had never bothered to use it
+before.
+
+He concentrated.
+
+Twenty Dominant women of Bortinot fell writhing on the mats.
+
+They writhed for a while, then got up and sat down again. Perspiration
+was heavy on their faces, and they panted heavily, and their eyes were
+slightly glazed with psychic shock.
+
+Smith's head ached. But he would never show it. He was rusty all right.
+
+Sog-chafka and Kard shifted once and seemed uneasy.
+
+Smith said. "I did that to demonstrate a point, which is that if I want
+to use psi-power here, I'll not fool around with any puny amount of it
+such as I was accused of doing earlier. I prefer fighting the Wortan
+way. Psi-power fighting is pretty unhealthy stuff. Minds getting all
+wrapped up together in combat. It's finally like beating yourself...."
+
+Smith laughed at the two giants. "Well," he said.
+
+Kard rushed. Smith dropped to hands and knees, pinched Kard's legs, held
+them perpendicular from the knees down. Kard's rushing weight carried
+his body on over. His knees popped. He screamed and fell moaning on the
+mat.
+
+Sog-chafka was already rushing and he tried to duck as Smith lunged
+upward. The sound in the room was cracking and sharp. Sog-chafka, the
+instructor in Wortan fighting, stumbled back and his thick arms dug at
+the air and a laxness showed under the skin-tight black uniform. Blood
+ran on the mats as Sog-chafka refused to go down any further than his
+knees. His head hung loosely and he slowly raised his blood-shot eyes.
+
+His massive face twisted. Kard of Shilon lay groaning a little, nursing
+dislocated knees.
+
+Sog-chafka remained bent, powerful thighs driving as his toes dug into
+the mat in a pounding, hurtling running dive, head down, hands reaching.
+It was a ferocious thing to see. Smith could hear the gasps of
+anticipation as he waited.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Smith chopped down with cupped hands as he stepped aside. He brought his
+knee up into Sog-chafka's face and the instructor spun crazily across
+the mat, his body sinking lower and lower and finally sliding forward on
+his belly and lying there without moving at all. "Brute strength," Smith
+said, "is what you want on Wortan."
+
+Smith glanced at Geria. "As you said earlier, Geria, there's something
+glorious about fighting tooth and nail. That's what you said."
+
+Smith's foot was jerked from under him as Kard heaved. Smith's heavy
+body thudded on the mat. Before he could twist around, Kard's powerful
+arm was around his throat. Smith's wind was cut off. He felt his eyes
+bulge, and he knew that Kard would kill him. "I think, Earthsmith, it
+only right you should come down here with me!"
+
+Smith put his right hand under Kard's right elbow. He clenched Kard's
+right wrist with the other hand. He pushed up with his right hand,
+heaved down with his left. Kard screamed a second time as his elbow
+popped.
+
+He had to let go or his arm would break, so he let go. As Kard rolled
+free, Smith aimed for that vital point just to the left of the tip of
+Kard's chin. The back of Kard's head thudded on the mat, his eyes rolled
+up.
+
+Smith got to his feet. He could hear Jorak of Gyra yelling. "He used
+psi! He used psi!"
+
+Smith hated to acquire another headache, but he felt this had to be
+done. He concentrated on Jorak who started to sweat. Then Jorak came
+down to the mats and began to writhe and hop around in a weird and
+formless dance. Round and round the mats Jorak danced, his face working
+fitfully.
+
+Sog-chafka was on one knee. His face was swelling and blood ran from his
+chin. He grinned and a broken tooth fell out. He looked up at the row of
+spectators. "He didn't use any psi on me. I guess you could say it
+wasn't necessary."
+
+There was no applause from the spectators. There was a kind of bitter
+ferment working, a wonderment and a suspicion and a dull kind of shock
+that blanks out facing unpleasant truths.
+
+Smith started past the first row, then stopped and looked down at the
+woman. He'd miss her, she had seen to that, and she had only been
+jesting. He'd think of how it might have been, at another time, in
+another way--but he'd forget in time. You forgot and you grew.
+Especially, when you had a job to do.
+
+"There's one thing this school has," he said, "that Earth doesn't have
+... and never did ... and probably never will. And that is Geria of
+Bortinot."
+
+When he went out, she was staring after him with an odd expression he
+couldn't identify. And behind her, Jorak of Gyra danced round and round
+the mats.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+The Registrar's lights blinked with what might almost have been
+nervousness.
+
+"Smith of Earth. Item: Garnot of Jlob has withdrawn his recommendation
+that you leave the school. However, his transtellar history class will
+have a new instructor for a week. His name is Khrom of Khaldmar.
+
+"Item: Sog-chafka of Wortan withdraws his accusation that you used
+psi-power in Wortan fighting. Wortan fighting classes have been dropped
+for two weeks.
+
+"Item: Kard of Shilon does not wish to meet you again in Wortan.
+
+"Item: Jorak of Gyra and Geria of Bortinot do not question your
+mentality and formally request that you release Jorak from psi-power
+suggestion which is causing Jorak to dance himself to death."
+
+Smith listened rather absently and then went to the window and looked
+out over the strange landscape.
+
+"Smith of Earth ... as yet you have not taken the battery of tests here,
+and the tests will determine your stay here. The choice is yours. We can
+request your withdrawal from the school, or we can keep you here. Your
+Dominant classification has been thoroughly validated. We are sure you
+would be happy here, and the tests will be presented in such a way that
+you will...."
+
+Well, he hadn't let himself down. He'd defended his integrity as a human
+being. But he'd been told not to let Earth down.
+
+Well, would he be letting Earth down by leaving? Would he be? If he
+returned and said that the galaxy had a school but we'd better not send
+students because the school is decadent--could Earth stand up in the
+face of its pricked bubble?
+
+What is, and what is not, letting your planet down? Smith knew it for an
+almost meaningless phrase, standing here before the clicking Registrar.
+The important thing was to learn, for from learning are sowed the seeds
+of progress, and surely he had learned.
+
+Yes, he had learned a great deal about the Galactic culture.
+
+The Registrar's voice droned on, being very logical and again petulant
+in a feminine way. It was a compliant machine. It got along well,
+maintaining a nice balance, with everyone. With Dominants it became
+slightly recessive. With Receptives, it was just a little bit Dominant.
+
+He watched the monstrous blotch of the red star, swelling and crimson,
+old and fading, yet filling a quarter of the sky, like a fat old man,
+getting fatter while his brain rotted away in his skull.
+
+He turned as the door opened. His breath shortened as she came toward
+him. Smith rubbed his bald pate, and felt the heat rise to his face.
+
+"You made a fool of me, Smith," she whispered. "Now you're blushing ...
+and that's just an act isn't it? You're still making a fool of me."
+
+"No," he said. "The way I felt about you and the things I said, I meant
+them. I still do."
+
+"But you let me use that psi-power on you ... and ... and if you'd
+wanted to ... you could have...." He stared. She was sobbing a little.
+
+He had felt it before, but the feeling was strong enough now to motivate
+action. He put his arms about her, protectively. He looked out the
+window at the cragged horizon and the dying red star behind.
+
+"The psi-power," he said. "I didn't realize I had it then. When you used
+it ... and later, the dream-empathy, it stirred up a lot of old
+capacities. I wasn't trying to fool anyone. I love you, Geria of
+Bortinot. And I'm not fooling...."
+
+"_Your decision, Smith of Earth...._"
+
+Well, he had learned a great deal about Galactic culture, so what should
+he do? A duty to Earth, to civilization. He had learned:
+
+... That the superior cultures out here among the stars were a myth.
+
+... That something had gone haywire in the startrails, that everyone you
+met was either psychotic or highly neurotic by Earth standards.
+
+... That the exceptions might be the hope of the Galaxy. But they were
+very few.
+
+... That Earth had better seek out the reasons for all this, try to
+eliminate them at their sources if possible, but certainly keep them
+from contaminating the home planet.
+
+... That Earth had a big job, but if he came back and reported and
+worked at it, he might convince Earth she was up to it.
+
+That was one way.
+
+"_Your decision, Smith of Earth, the battery of tests or...._"
+
+She was looking up at him. "Well?"
+
+"What do you think, Geria?"
+
+She put her face against his chest. "Whatever you decide," she
+whispered. "You're the Dominant...."
+
+He smiled at the banks of lights. "When's the next ship for Deneb?" he
+asked. "We're going back to Earth."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Earthsmith, by Milton Lesser
+
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