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- WE'RE CIVILIZED!
-
-
-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 http://www.gutenberg.org/license.
-
-Title: We're Civilized!
-
-Author: Mark Clifton and Alex Apostolides
-
-Release Date: December 13, 2011 [EBook #38287]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WE'RE CIVILIZED! ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Frank van Drogen, Greg Weeks, and the Online Distributed
-Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net.
-
- WE'RE CIVILIZED!
-
- By MARK CLIFTON and ALEX APOSTOLIDES
-
-
- _Naturally, the superior race should win ... but superior by
- which standards ... and whose?_
-
- Illustrated by BALBALIS
-
-
-The females and children worked among the lichen growth, picking off the
-fattest, ripest leaves for their food and moisture, completing their arc
-of the circle of symbiosis.
-
-The males worked at the surface of the canals, or in open excavations.
-Their wide, mutated hands chipped into the rock-hard clay, opening a
-channel which was to be filled with sand and then sealed off with clay
-on all sides and surface. That water might seep through the sand without
-evaporation, without loss, from the poles to the equator of Mars--seep
-unimpeded, so that moisture might reach the lichen plants of everyone,
-so that none might thirst or hunger.
-
-The seepage must flow. Not even buried in the dim racial memory had
-there ever been one who took more than his share, for this would be like
-the fingers of one hand stealing blood from the fingers of the other.
-
-Among the Mars race there were many words for contentment, kinship of
-each to all. There were words to express the ecstasy of watching the
-eternal stars, by night and by day, through the thin blackish
-atmosphere. There were words to express the joy of opening slitted
-nostrils to breathe deeply in those protected places where the blowing
-sands did not swirl, of opening folds of rubbery skin to catch the weak
-rays of the distant Sun.
-
-But there were no words for "mine" as separate from "yours." And there
-was no urge to cry out, "Why am I here? What is the purpose of it all?"
-
-Each had his purpose, serene, unquestioning. Each repaired or extended
-the seepage canals so that others, unborn, might know the same joys and
-ecstasies as they. The work was in itself a part of the total joy, and
-they resisted it no more than healthy lungs resist clear, cool air.
-
-So far back that even the concept of beginnings had been forgotten, the
-interwoven fabric of their symbiotic interdependence seeped through
-their lives as naturally as the precious water seeped through the canal
-sands. As far back as that, they had achieved civilization.
-
-Their kind of civilization.
-
- ----
-
-Captain Griswold maintained an impassive face. (Let that, too, be a part
-of the legend.) Without expression, he looked through the screen at the
-red land flashing below the ship. But unconsciously he squared his
-shoulders, breathed deeply, enjoying the virile pull of his uniform over
-his expanding chest. Resolutely he pushed aside the vision of countless
-generations of school children, yet to come, repeating the lesson
-dutifully to their teachers.
-
-"Captain Thomas H. Griswold took possession of Mars, June 14, 2018."
-
-No, he must not allow any mood of vanity to spoil his own memories of
-this moment. It was beside the point that his name would rank with the
-great names of all times. Still, the history of the moment could not be
-denied.
-
-Lieutenant Atkinson's voice broke through his preoccupation, and saved
-him the immodest thought of wondering if perhaps his cap visor might not
-be worn a little more rakishly to one side. He must father a custom,
-something distinctive of those who had been to Mars--
-
-"Another canal, sir."
-
-Below them, a straight line of gray-green stretched to the horizon,
-contrasting sharply with the red ferrous oxide of the landscape. An
-entire planet of ferrous oxide--iron--steel for the already starving
-technology of the Western Alliance. The captain felt a momentary
-irritation that even this narrow swath displaced the precious iron ore.
-
-Obviously these canals served no purpose. His ship had circled the
-planet at its equator, and again from pole to pole. Canals everywhere,
-but nothing else. Enough time and fuel had been wasted. They must land.
-Obviously there was no intelligent life. But the history of the moment
-must not be marred by any haste. There must be no question within the
-books yet to be written. There must be no accredited voice of criticism
-raised.
-
-"My compliments to Mr. Berkeley," he said harshly to Lt. Atkinson, "and
-would he kindly step to the control room?" He paused and added dryly,
-"At his convenience."
-
-Mister Berkeley, indeed. What was it they called the civilian--an
-ethnologist? A fellow who was supposed to be an authority on races,
-civilizations, mores and customs of groups. Well, the man was excess
-baggage. There would be no races to contact here. A good thing, too.
-These civilian experts with their theories--show them a tooth and
-they'll dream up a monster. Show them a fingernail paring and they'll
-deduce a civilization from it. Nonsense!
-
-"You wanted to see me, Captain?" The voice was young, quiet, controlled.
-
- ----
-
-Without haste, Captain Griswold turned and faced Berkeley. Not only a
-theorist, but a young theorist. These super-bright young men with their
-sharp blue eyes. A lot of learning and no knowledge. A lot of wisdom and
-no common sense. He carefully controlled his voice, concealing his lack
-of respect for the civilian.
-
-"Well, Mr. Berkeley, we have quartered the globe. We have seen no
-evidence of civilization."
-
-"You discount the canals, Captain?" Berkeley asked, as if more from
-curiosity than refutation.
-
-"I must discount them," the captain answered decisively. "Over all the
-planet we have seen no buildings, not even ruins, no evidence at all
-that intelligence exists here."
-
-"I consider straight lines, running half the length of a world, to be
-evidence of something, sir." It was a flat statement, given without
-emphasis.
-
-Arguments! Arguments! Little men who have to inflate themselves into a
-stature of importance--destroy the sacred history of the moment. But
-quietly now. There must be no memory of petty conflict.
-
-"Where are their buildings, Mr. Berkeley?" he asked with patient
-tolerance. "Where are their factories? The smoke from their factories?
-The highways? The transportation facilities? Where are the airplanes?
-Even this thin air would support a fast jet. I do not require they have
-spaceships, Mr. Berkeley, to concede them intelligence. I do not require
-they be the equal of Man. I also have some scientific training. And my
-training tells me I cannot recognize the existence of something where
-there is no evidence at all."
-
-"The canals," Berkeley answered. His voice also was controlled, for he,
-too, knew the history of this moment. But his concern was not for his
-own name in the history books. He knew only too well what its writers
-did to individuals for the sake of expediency. His concern was that this
-moment never be one of deep shame for Man. "Perhaps they have no
-buildings, no factory smoke, because they don't need them. Perhaps they
-don't have highways because they don't want to go anywhere. Perhaps
-their concept of living is completely unlike ours."
-
- ----
-
-Griswold shrugged his shoulders. "We speak an entirely different
-language, Mr. Berkeley."
-
-"I'm afraid you're right, Captain," Berkeley sighed. "And it might be a
-tragic thing that we do. Remember, European man spoke a different
-language from that of the American Indian, the Mayan, Polynesian,
-African, Indonesian--" He broke off as if the list were endless. "I ask
-only that we don't hasten into the same errors all over again."
-
-"We can't hover here above the surface forever," Griswold said
-irritably. "We have quartered the globe. The other experts are anxious
-to land, so they can get to their work. We have made a search for your
-civilization and we have not found it."
-
-"I withdraw all objections to landing, Captain. You are entirely
-correct. We must land."
-
-The intercom on the wall squawked into life.
-
-"Observation to Control. Observation to Control. Network of canals
-forming a junction ahead."
-
-"Prepare for landing, Lieutenant Atkinson," Griswold commanded sharply.
-"At the junction." He turned and watched the screen. "There, Mr.
-Berkeley, dead ahead. A dozen--at least a dozen of your canals joining
-at one spot. Surely, if there were a civilization at all, you would find
-it at such a spot." Slowly and carefully, he constructed the pages of
-history. "I do not wish the implication ever to arise that this ship's
-commander, or any of its personnel, failed to cooperate in every way
-with the scientific authorities aboard."
-
-"I know that, Captain," Berkeley answered. "And I agree. The junction,
-then."
-
- ----
-
-The sigh of servo-mechanism, the flare of intolerably hot blue flame,
-and the ship stood motionless above the junction of canals. Ponderously,
-slowly, she settled; held aloft by the pillars of flame beneath her,
-directly above the junction, fusing the sand in the canals to glass,
-exploding their walls with steam. Within their warm and protected
-burrows beside the canals, slitted nostrils closed, iris of eyes
-contracted, fluted layers of skin opened and pulled tight, and opened
-again convulsively in the reflexes of death.
-
-There was a slight jar only as the ship settled to the ground, bathed in
-the mushrooming flame.
-
-"A good landing, Lieutenant," Captain Griswold complimented. "A good
-landing, indeed."
-
-His head came up and he watched the screen to see the landscape reappear
-through the dust and steam.
-
-"Prepare to disembark in approximately six hours, Lieutenant. The heat
-should have subsided sufficiently by then. The ship's officers, the
-civ--er--scientific party, a complement of men. I will lead the way.
-You, Lieutenant, will carry the flag and the necessary appurtenances to
-the ceremony. We will hold it without delay."
-
-Berkeley was watching the screen also. He wondered what the effect of
-the landing heat would be on the canals. He wondered why it had been
-considered necessary to land squarely on the junction; why Man always,
-as if instinctively, does the most destructive thing he can.
-
-He shrugged it away. Wherever they landed might have been the wrong
-place.
-
- ----
-
-Farther along the canals, where the heat had not reached, the Mars race
-began to emerge from their protecting burrows. They had seen the meteor
-hurtling downward, and it was part of their conditioning to seek their
-burrows when any threatening phenomenon occurred.
-
-Flaming meteors had fallen before, but never in the interlocked racial
-mind was there memory of one which had fallen directly on a canal
-junction. Within the fabric of their instinct, they sensed the fused
-sand, the broken clay walls, the water boiling through the broken walls,
-wasted. They sensed the waters on the other side of the barrier seeping
-onward, leaving sand unfilled. Within the nerves of their own bodies
-they felt the anticipated pangs of tendril roots searching down into the
-sand for water, and not finding it.
-
-The urgency came upon them, all within the region, to remove this
-meteor; restore the canals as soon as the heat would permit. They began
-to gather, circling the meteor, circling the scorched ground around it.
-The urgency of getting at it before there was too much water lost drove
-them in upon the hot ground.
-
-The unaccustomed heat held them back. They milled uncertainly, in
-increasing numbers, around the meteor.
-
- ----
-
-Since Captain Griswold had not asked him to leave the control room
-during landing operations, Berkeley still stood and watched the screen.
-At the first appearance of the Mars race emerging from the soil, he
-exclaimed in great excitement:
-
-"There they are! There they are, Captain!"
-
-Griswold came over and stood beside him, watching the screen. His eyes
-widened.
-
-"Horrible," he muttered in revulsion. The gorge arose in his throat and
-stopped his speech for a moment. But history took possession of him
-again. "I suppose we will get accustomed to their appearance in time,"
-he conceded.
-
-"They're the builders, Captain. Wonderful!" Berkeley exulted. "Those
-shovel-shaped forelimbs--they're the builders!"
-
-"Perhaps," Griswold agreed. "But in the way a mole or gopher--still, if
-they were intelligent enough to be trained for mining operations--but
-then you certainly cannot call these things intelligent, Mr. Berkeley."
-
-"How do we know, Captain?"
-
-But the Captain was looking about vainly for buildings, for factory
-smoke, for highways.
-
-"Lieutenant Atkinson!" he called.
-
-"Yes, sir."
-
-"Send an immediate order throughout the ship. The Mars things are not to
-be molested." He glanced at Berkeley as he gave the order, and then
-glanced away. "Double the complement of men on the landing party and see
-that they are fully armed." Then back to Berkeley, "A good leader guards
-against every contingency. But there will be no indiscriminate
-slaughter. You may be assured of that. I am as anxious as you that
-Man--"
-
-"Thank you, Captain," Berkeley answered. "And the planting of the flag?
-The taking possession?"
-
-"Well, now, Mr. Berkeley, what shall we do, now that we have seen
-some--things? Go away? Leave an entire planet of iron ore to be claimed
-later by Eastern Alliance? The enemy is not far behind us in their
-technology, Mr. Berkeley."
-
-He warmed to his theme, his head came up, his shoulders back.
-
-"Suppose these things are intelligent. Suppose they do have feelings of
-one kind or another. What would happen to them if the Eastern Alliance
-laid claim to this planet? Under us, at least, they will have
-protection. We will set aside reservations where they may live in peace.
-Obviously they live in burrows in the ground; I see no buildings. Their
-total food supply must be these miserable plants. What a miserable
-existence they have now!
-
-"We will change that. We will provide them with adequate food, the food
-to fill their empty stomachs--if they have stomachs. We will clothe
-their repulsive nakedness. If they have enough sense to learn, we will
-give them the pride of self-employment in our mines and factories. We
-would be less than human, Mr. Berkeley, if we did not acknowledge our
-duty."
-
-The light of noble intention shone in his face. He was swept away with
-his own eloquence.
-
-"If," he finished, "we take care of the duty, the destiny will take care
-of itself!"
-
-That was very good. He hoped they would have the grace to quote him on
-that. It was a fine summing up of his entire character.
-
-Berkeley smiled a rueful smile. There was no stopping it. It was not a
-matter of not planting the flag, not taking possession. The captain was
-right. If not the Western Alliance, then certainly the Eastern Alliance.
-His quarrel was not with the captain nor with the duty, but with the
-destiny. The issue was not to be decided now. It had already been
-decided--decided when the first apeman had crept into the tree nest of
-another and stolen his mate.
-
-Man takes. Whether it be by barbaric rapine, or reluctant acceptance of
-duty through carefully contrived diplomacy, Man takes.
-
-Berkeley turned and made his way out of the control room.
-
- ----
-
-Outside, the soil shifted in its contortions of cooling. The wind
-whispered dryly over the red landscape, sending up little swirls of
-dust, eternally shifting it from one place to another. The soil was less
-hot, and as it cooled, the Mars race pressed inward. Theirs was the
-urgency to get at this meteor as quickly as possible, remove it, start
-the water flowing once more.
-
-"Observation reports ground cool enough for landing!" The magic words
-seemed to sing into the control cabin.
-
-"Summon all landing party," Captain Griswold commanded immediately.
-
-The signal bells rang throughout the ship. The bell in the supercargo
-cabin rang also. With the other scientists, Berkeley dressed in his
-protecting suit, fitted the clear glassite oxygen helmet over his head,
-fastened it. Together with the rest, he stood at the designated airlock
-to await the captain's coming.
-
-And the captain did not keep them waiting. At precisely the right
-moment, with only a flicker of a side glance at the photographic
-equipment, the captain strode ahead of his officers to the airlock. The
-sealing doors of the corridor behind them closed, shutting off the
-entire party, making the corridor itself into a great airlock.
-
-There was a long sigh, and the great beams of the locks moved
-ponderously against their weight. There was the rush of air from the
-corridor as the heavier pressure rushed out through the opening locks,
-to equalize with the thin air of Mars. With the air rushed outward
-fungus spores, virus, microbes; most of them to perish under the alien
-conditions, but some to survive--and thrive.
-
-The red light above the lock was blinking on-off-on-off. The officers,
-the scientists, the armed men, watched the light intently. It blinked
-off for the last time. The locks were open. The great ramp settled to
-the ground.
-
- ----
-
-In ordered, military file, the captain at their head, the landing party
-passed down the corridor, through the locks, out upon the ramp beneath
-the blue-black sky; and down to the red soil. Captain Griswold was the
-first man to set foot on Mars, June 14, 2018. The photographers were
-second.
-
-Now the Mars race was moving closer to the ship, but the ground was
-still too hot for their unprotected feet. The pressing need for removing
-the meteor possessed them. The movement of the men disembarking from the
-ship was to them no more than another unintelligible aspect of this
-incredible meteor.
-
-The sound of a bugle pierced the thin air, picked up by the loudspeaker
-from the ship, reverberating through their helmets. The landing party
-formed a semi-circle at the foot of the ramp.
-
-Captain Griswold, his face as rigidly set as the marble statuary of him
-to follow, reached out and took the flag from Lieutenant Atkinson. He
-planted it firmly, without false motion, in the framework one of the men
-had set upon the baked ground to receive it.
-
-He pointed to the north, the south, the east, the west. He brought his
-hands together, palms downward, arms fully out-stretched in front of
-him. He spread his arms wide open and down, then back together and up;
-completing a circle which encompassed all the planet. He held out his
-right hand and received the scroll from Lieutenant Atkinson.
-
-With a decisive gesture, not quite theatrical, he unfurled the scroll.
-He read in a voice firm enough to impress all posterity:
-
-"By virtue of authority invested in me from the Supreme Council of the
-Western Alliance, the only true representatives of Earth and Man, I take
-possession of all this planet in the name of our President, the Supreme
-Council, the Western Alliance, Earth, and in the name of God."
-
- ----
-
-The ground was cool enough now that their feet might bear it. The pain
-was great, but it was lost in the greater pain of feeling the killing
-obstruction the great meteor had brought to their canals. The Mars race
-began to press inward, inexorably.
-
-It was in the anticlimactic moment, following the possession ceremony,
-when men milled around in uncertainty, that Lt. Atkinson saw the Mars
-race had come closer and were still moving.
-
-"The monsters!" he exclaimed in horror. "They're attacking!"
-
-Berkeley looked, and from the little gestures of movement out of his
-long training he deduced their true motive.
-
-"Not against us!" he cried. "The ship."
-
-Perhaps his words were more unfortunate than his silence might have
-been; for the ship was of greater concern to Captain Griswold than his
-own person.
-
-"Halt!" Griswold shouted toward the approaching Mars race. "Halt or I'll
-fire!"
-
-The Mars race paid no heed. Slowly they came forward, each step on the
-hot ground a torture, but a pain which could be borne. The greater
-torture, the one they could not bear, was the ache to press against this
-meteor, push it away, that they might dig the juncture clean again. As a
-man whose breath is stopped fights frantically for air, concerned with
-nothing else, so they felt the desperation of drying sands.
-
-They came on.
-
-"For the last time," Griswold shouted, "halt!" He made a motion with his
-hands, as if to push them back, as if to convey his meaning by signs.
-Involuntarily, then, his eyes sought those of Berkeley. A look of
-pleading, helplessness. Berkeley met the glance and read the anxiety
-there, the tragic unwillingness of the man to arouse posterity's rage or
-contempt.
-
-It was a brief glance only from both men and it was over. Captain
-Griswold's head came up; his shoulders straightened in the face of the
-oncoming monsters. They were close now, and coming closer. As always,
-the experts were free with their advice when it was not needed. When the
-chips were down, they could do no more than smirk and shrug a helpless
-shoulder.
-
-He gave the command, and now there was no uncertainty.
-
-"Fire!"
-
- ----
-
-The celebration was being held in the Great Stadium, the largest, most
-costly structure that Man had ever built. It was a fitting structure for
-the more important football games; and used on occasion, if they could
-be fitted in without upsetting the schedule, for State affairs. Now the
-stadium was filled to capacity, its floor churned by the careless feet
-of the thousands upon thousands who had managed to obtain an entrance.
-
-From the quarter-mile-high tiers of seats, from the floor of the
-stadium, the shouts welled up, washing over the platform at the North
-end.
-
-"Griswold! Griswold!"
-
-It was not yet time for history to assess the justice of the massacre.
-
-The President raised his hand. The battery of video cameras picked up
-each move.
-
-"Our hopes, our fears, our hearts, our prayers rode through every
-space-dark, star-flecked mile with these glorious pioneers." He turned
-then to the captain. "For the people of Earth, _Admiral_ Griswold, this
-medal. A new medal for a Guider of Destiny, Maker of Empire, Son of
-Man!"
-
-The voice faltered, stopped.
-
-The crowd on the floor of the stadium was pressing outward from the
-center, screaming in pain and terror. At the moment when the people
-should be quiet, rapt in reverence, they were emptying the floor of the
-stadium. But not willingly. They were being pressed back and out, as a
-great weight pushes its way through water. Those who could move outward
-no farther were crushed where they stood.
-
-And then the ship appeared.
-
-Hazy of outline, shimmering with impossible angles, seen by its glinting
-fire of light rather than by its solid form, as if its reality were in
-some other dimension and this only a projection, the ship appeared.
-
-The President's hand reached out and gripped Griswold's shoulder as he
-leaned back and back, trying to determine its vast height. A silence
-then clutched the crowd--a terrified silence.
-
-A full minute passed. Even on the platform, where all the pioneers of
-Mars were assembled with Earth's dignitaries, even there the people
-cowered back away from this unseeable, unknowable horror.
-
-But one man leaned forward instead, frantically studying the shimmering
-outline of the ship. One man--Berkeley.
-
-With the training of the ethnologist, a man who really can deduce an
-entire civilization from mystifying data, he recognized the tremendous
-import.
-
-At the end of that minute, without warning, a group of figures hovered
-in the air near the floor of the stadium.
-
- ----
-
-Quickly, Berkeley's eyes assessed their form, their color, the
-increasing solidity of the humanoids. There are some movements, some
-gestures, common to all things of intelligence--the pause, the
-resolution, the lift of pride.
-
-"No!" he screamed and started forward. "Oh, no! We're civilized. We're
-intelligent!" He was pulled back, as in his terror he tried to leap from
-the platform to get at the humanoids.
-
-Held there, unable to move, he read the meaning of the actions of the
-group hovering near the ship. One flashed a shining tentacle around, as
-if to point to the stadium, the pitifully small spaceship on display,
-the crowds of people.
-
-The leader manifestly ignored him. He flowed forward a pace, his ovoid
-head held high in pride and arrogance. He pointed a tentacle toward the
-south end of the stadium, and a pillar of leaping flame arose; fed with
-no fuel, never to cease its fire, the symbol of possession.
-
-He pointed his tentacles to the north, the south, the east, the west. He
-motioned with his tentacles, as if to encircle all of Earth.
-
-He unfurled a scroll and began to read.
-
---MARK CLIFTON & ALEX APOSTOLIDES
-
- _Transcribers note_: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science
- Fiction August 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any
- evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was
- renewed.
-
-
-
-
-
-*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WE'RE CIVILIZED! ***
-
-
-
-
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