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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..01e6642 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #60761 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60761) diff --git a/old/60761-h.zip b/old/60761-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 635d8a2..0000000 --- a/old/60761-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/60761-h/60761-h.htm b/old/60761-h/60761-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 073e1c9..0000000 --- a/old/60761-h/60761-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1096 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Good Seed, by Mark Mallory. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.caption {font-weight: bold;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - -.ph1 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } -.ph1 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Good Seed, by Mark Mallory - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: The Good Seed - -Author: Mark Mallory - -Release Date: November 22, 2019 [EBook #60761] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GOOD SEED *** - - - - -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" width="343" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>the good seed</h1> - -<h2>By MARK MALLORY</h2> - -<p class="ph1"><i>The island was drowning—if they<br /> -failed to find some common ground,<br /> -both of them were doomed.</i></p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Worlds of If Science Fiction, January 1960.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>They said—as they have said of so many frontiersmen just like -him—that there must have been a woman in his past, to make him what he -was. And indeed there had, but she was no flesh-and-blood female. The -name of his lady was Victoria, whom the Greeks called Nike and early -confounded with the Pallas Athena, that sterile maiden. And at the age -of thirty-four she had Calvin Mulloy most firmly in her grasp, for he -had neither wife nor child, nor any close friend worth mentioning—only -his hungry dream for some great accomplishment.</p> - -<p>It had harried him to the stars, that dream of his. It had driven -him to the position of top survey engineer on the new, raw planet of -Mersey, still largely unexplored and unmapped. And it had pushed him, -too, into foolishnesses like this latest one, building a sailplane out -of scrap odds and ends around the Mersey Advance Base—a sailplane -which had just this moment been caught in a storm and cracked up on an -island the size of a city backyard, between the banks of one of the -mouths of the Adze River.</p> - -<p>The sailplane was gone the moment it hit. Actually it had come down -just short of the island and floated quickly off, what was left of -it, while Calvin was thrashing for the island with that inept stroke -of his. He pulled himself up, gasping, onto the rocks, and, with the -coolness of a logical man who has faced crises before, set himself -immediately to taking stock of his situation.</p> - -<p>He was wet and winded, but since he was undrowned and on solid land in -the semitropics, he dismissed that part of it from his mind. It had -been full noon when he had been caught in the storm, and it could not -be much more than minutes past that now, so swiftly had everything -happened; but the black, low clouds, racing across the sky, and the -gusts of intermittent rain, cut visibility down around him.</p> - -<p>He stood up on his small island and leaned against the wind that blew -in and up the river from the open gulf. On three sides he saw nothing -but the fast-riding waves. On the fourth, though, shading his eyes -against the occasional bursts of rain, he discerned a long, low, -curving blackness that would be one of the river shores.</p> - -<p>There lay safety. He estimated its distance from him at less than a -hundred and fifty yards. It was merely, he told himself, a matter of -reaching it.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Under ordinary conditions, he would have settled down where he was and -waited for rescue. He was not more than fifteen or twenty miles from -the Advance Base, and in this storm they would waste no time waiting -for him to come in, before starting out to search for him. No sailplane -could survive in such a blow. Standing now, with the wind pushing at -him and the rain stinging against his face and hands, he found time -for a moment's wry humor at his own bad luck. On any civilized world, -such a storm would have been charted and predicted, if not controlled -entirely. Well, the more fool he, for venturing this far from Base.</p> - -<p>It was in his favor that this world of Mersey happened to be so -Earthlike that the differences between the two planets were mostly -unimportant. Unfortunately, it was the one unimportant difference that -made his present position on the island a death trap. The gulf into -which his river emptied was merely a twentieth the area of the Gulf of -Mexico—but in this section it was extremely shallow, having an overall -average depth of around seventy-five feet. When one of these flash -storms formed suddenly out over its waters, the wind could either drain -huge tidal areas around the mouths of the Adze, or else raise the river -level within hours a matter of thirty feet.</p> - -<p>With the onshore wind whistling about his ears right now, it was only -too obvious to Calvin that the river was rising. This rocky little bit -sticking some twelve or fifteen feet above the waves could expect to be -overwhelmed in the next few hours.</p> - -<p>He looked about him. The island was bare except for a few straggly -bushes. He reached out for a shoot from a bush beside him. It came up -easily from the thin layer of soil that overlaid the rocks, and the -wind snatched it out of his hand. He saw it go skipping over the tops -of the waves in the direction of the shore, until a wave-slope caught -it and carried it into the next trough and out of sight. It at least, -he thought, would reach the safety of the river bank. But it would take -a thousand such slender stems, plaited into a raft, to do him any good; -and there were not that many stems, and not that much time.</p> - -<p>Calvin turned and climbed in toward the center high point of the -island. It was only a few steps over the damp soil and rocks, but when -he stood upright on a little crown of rock and looked about him, it -seemed that the island was smaller than ever, and might be drowned at -any second by the wind-lashed waves. Moreover, there was nothing to be -seen which offered him any more help or hope of escape.</p> - -<p>Even then, he was not moved to despair. He saw no way out, but this -simply reinforced his conviction that the way out was hiding about him -somewhere, and he must look that much harder for it.</p> - -<p>He was going to step down out of the full force of the wind, when he -happened to notice a rounded object nestling in a little hollow of the -rock below him, about a dozen or so feet away.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He went and stood over it, seeing that his first guess as to its nature -had been correct. It was one of the intelligent traveling plants -that wandered around the oceans of this world. It should have been at -home in this situation. Evidently, however, it had made the mistake -of coming ashore here to seed. It was now rooted in the soil of the -island, facing death as surely as he; if the wind or the waves tore it -from its own helplessly anchored roots.</p> - -<p>"Can you understand me?" he asked it.</p> - -<p>There was an odd sort of croaking from it, which seemed to shape itself -into words, though the how of it remained baffling to the ear. It was -a sort of supplemental telepathy at work, over and above the rough -attempts to imitate human speech. Some of these intelligent plants -they had got to know in this area could communicate with them in this -fashion, though most could not.</p> - -<p>"I know you, man," said the plant. "I have seen your gathering." It was -referring to the Advance Base, which had attracted a steady stream of -the plant visitors at first.</p> - -<p>"Know any way to get ashore?" Calvin asked.</p> - -<p>"There is none," said the plant.</p> - -<p>"I can't see any, either."</p> - -<p>"There is none," repeated the plant.</p> - -<p>"Everyone to his own opinion," said Calvin. Almost he sneered a little. -He turned his gaze once more about the island. "In my book, them that -<i>won't</i> be beat <i>can't</i> be beat. That's maybe where we're different, -plant."</p> - -<p>He left the plant and went for a walk about the island. It had been -in his mind that possibly a drifting log or some such could have -been caught by the island and he could use this to get ashore. He -found nothing. For a few minutes, at one end of the island, he stood -fascinated, watching a long sloping black rock with a crack in it, -reaching down into the water. There was a small tuft of moss growing -in the crack about five inches above where the waves were slapping. As -he watched, the waves slapped higher and higher, until he turned away -abruptly, shivering, before he could see the water actually reach and -cover the little clump of green.</p> - -<p>For the first time a realization that he might not get off the island -touched him. It was not yet fear, this realization, but it reached -deep into him and he felt it, suddenly, like a pressure against his -heart. As the moss was being covered, so could he be covered, by the -far-reaching inexorable advance of the water.</p> - -<p>And then this was wiped away by an abrupt outburst of anger and -self-ridicule that he—who had been through so many dangers—should -find himself pinned by so commonplace a threat. A man, he told -himself, could die of drowning anywhere. There was no need to go -light-years from his place of birth to find such a death. It made all -dying—and all living—seem small and futile and insignificant, and he -did not like that feeling.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Calvin went back to the plant in its little hollow, tight-hugging to -the ground and half-sheltered from the wind, and looked down on its -dusky basketball-sized shape, the tough hide swollen and ready to burst -with seeds.</p> - -<p>"So you think there's no way out," he said roughly.</p> - -<p>"There is none," said the plant.</p> - -<p>"Why don't you just let yourself go if you think like that?" Calvin -said. "Why try to keep down out of the wind, if the waves'll get you -anyway, later?"</p> - -<p>The plant did not answer for a while.</p> - -<p>"I do not want to die," it said then. "As long as I am alive, there is -the possibility of some great improbable chance saving me."</p> - -<p>"Oh," said Calvin, and he himself was silent in turn. "I thought you'd -given up."</p> - -<p>"I cannot give up," said the plant. "I am still alive. But I know there -is no way to safety."</p> - -<p>"You make a lot of sense." Calvin straightened up to squint through the -rain at the dark and distant line of the shore. "How much more time -would you say we had before the water covers this rock?"</p> - -<p>"The eighth part of a daylight period, perhaps more, perhaps less. The -water can rise either faster or more slowly."</p> - -<p>"Any chance of it cresting and going down?"</p> - -<p>"That would be a great improbable chance such as that of which I -spoke," said the plant.</p> - -<p>Calvin rotated slowly, surveying the water around them. Bits and pieces -of flotsam were streaming by them on their way before the wind, now -angling toward the near bank. But none were close enough or large -enough to do Calvin any good.</p> - -<p>"Look," said Calvin abruptly, "there's a fisheries survey station -upriver here, not too far. Now, I could dig up the soil holding your -roots. If I did that, would you get to the survey station as fast as -you could and tell them I'm stranded here?"</p> - -<p>"I would be glad to," said the plant. "But you cannot dig me up. My -roots have penetrated into the rock. If you tried to dig me up, they -would break off—and I would die that much sooner."</p> - -<p>"You would, would you?" grunted Calvin. But the question was -rhetorical. Already his mind was busy searching for some other way out. -For the first time in his life, he felt the touch of cold about his -heart. Could this be fear, he wondered. But he had never been afraid of -death.</p> - -<p>Crouching down again to be out of the wind and rain, he told himself -that knowledge still remained a tool he could use. The plant must know -something that was, perhaps, useless to it, but that could be twisted -to a human's advantage.</p> - -<p>"What made you come to a place like this to seed?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Twenty nights and days ago, when I first took root here," said the -plant, "this land was safe. The signs were good for fair weather. And -this place was easy of access from the water. I am not built to travel -far on land."</p> - -<p>"How would you manage in a storm like this, if you were not rooted -down?"</p> - -<p>"I would go with the wind until I found shelter," said the plant. "The -wind and waves would not harm me then. They hurt only whatever stands -firm and opposes them."</p> - -<p>"You can't communicate with others of your people from here, can you?" -asked Calvin.</p> - -<p>"There are none close," said the plant. "Anyway, what could they do?"</p> - -<p>"They could get a message to the fisheries station, to get help out -here for us."</p> - -<p>"What help could help me?" said the plant. "And in any case they could -not go against the wind. They would have to be upwind of the station, -even to help you."</p> - -<p>"We could try it."</p> - -<p>"We could try it," agreed the plant. "But first one of my kind must -come into speaking range. We still hunt our great improbable chance."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>There was a moment's silence between them in the wind and rain. The -river was noisy, working against the rock of the island.</p> - -<p>"There must be something that would give us a better chance than just -sitting here," said Calvin.</p> - -<p>The plant did not answer.</p> - -<p>"What are you thinking about?" demanded Calvin.</p> - -<p>"I am thinking of the irony of our situation," said the plant. "You are -free to wander the water, but cannot. I can wander the water, but I am -not free to do so. This is death, and it is a strange thing."</p> - -<p>"I don't get you."</p> - -<p>"I only mean that it makes no difference—that I am what I am, or that -you are what you are. We could be any things that would die when the -waves finally cover the island."</p> - -<p>"Right enough," said Calvin impatiently. "What about it?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing about it, man," said the plant. "I was only thinking."</p> - -<p>"Don't waste your time on philosophy," said Calvin harshly. "Use some -of that brain power on a way to get loose and get off."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps that and philosophy are one and the same."</p> - -<p>"You're not going to convince me of that," said Calvin, getting up. -"I'm going to take another look around the island."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The island, as he walked around its short margin, showed itself to be -definitely smaller. He paused again by the black rock. The moss was -lost now, under the water, and the crack was all but under as well. He -stood shielding his eyes against the wind-driven rain, peering across -at the still visible shore. The waves, he noted, were not extreme—some -four or five feet in height—which meant that the storm proper was -probably paralleling the land some distance out in the gulf.</p> - -<p>He clenched his fists in sudden frustration. If only he had hung on to -the sailplane—or any decent-sized chunk of it! At least going into the -water then would have been a gamble with some faint chance of success.</p> - -<p>He had nowhere else to go, after rounding the island. He went back to -the plant.</p> - -<p>"Man," said the plant, "one of my people has been blown to shelter a -little downstream."</p> - -<p>Calvin straightened up eagerly, turning to stare into the wind.</p> - -<p>"You cannot see him," said the plant. "He is caught below the river -bend and cannot break loose against the force of the wind. But he is -close enough to talk. And he sends you good news."</p> - -<p>"Me?" Calvin hunkered down beside the plant. "Good news?"</p> - -<p>"There is a large tree torn loose from the bank and floating this way. -It should strike the little bit of land where we are here."</p> - -<p>"Strike it? Are you positive?"</p> - -<p>"There are the wind and the water and the tree. They can move only to -one destination—this island. Go quickly to the windward point of the -island. The tree will be coming shortly."</p> - -<p>Calvin jerked erect and turned, wild triumph bursting in him.</p> - -<p>"Good-by, man," said the plant.</p> - -<p>But he was already plunging toward the downstream end of the island. He -reached it and, shielding his eyes with a hand, peered desperately out -over the water. The waves hammered upon his boots as he stood there, -and then he saw it, a mass of branches upon which the wind was blowing -as on a sail, green against black, coming toward him.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He crouched, wrung with impatience, as the tree drifted swiftly through -the water toward him, too ponderous to rise and fall more than a little -with the waves and presenting a galleonlike appearance of mass and -invincibility. As it came closer, a fear that it would, in spite of the -plant's assurances, miss the island, crept into his heart and chilled -it.</p> - -<p>It seemed to Calvin that it was veering—that it would pass to windward -of the island, between him and the dimly seen shore. The thought of -losing it was more than he could bear to consider; and with a sudden -burst of panic, he threw himself into the waves, beating clumsily and -frantically for it.</p> - -<p>The river took him into its massive fury. He had forgotten the strength -of it. His first dive took him under an incoming wave, and he emerged, -gasping, into the trough behind, with water exploding in his face. -He kicked and threw his arms about, but the slow and futile-seeming -beatings of his limbs appeared helpless as the fluttering of a -butterfly in a collector's net. He choked for air, and, rising on the -crest of one wave, found himself turned backward to face the island, -and being swept past it.</p> - -<p>Fear came home to him then. He lashed out, fighting only for the -solid ground of the island and his life. His world became a place of -foam and fury. He strained for air. He dug for the island. And then, -suddenly, he felt himself flung upon hard rock and gasping, crawling, -he emerged onto safety.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" width="411" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>He hung there on hands and knees, battered and panting. Then the -remembrance of the tree cut like a knife to the core of his fear-soaked -being. He staggered up, and, looking about, saw that he was almost to -the far end of the island. He turned. Above him, at the windward point, -the tree itself was just now grounding, branches first, and swinging -about as the long trunk, caught by the waves, pulled it around and -onward.</p> - -<p>With an inarticulate cry, he ran toward it. But the mass of water -against the heavy tree trunk was already pulling the branches from -their tanglings with the rock. It floated free. Taking the wind once -more in its sail of leaves, it moved slowly—and then more swiftly on -past the far side of the island.</p> - -<p>He scrambled up his side of the island's crest. But when he reached its -top and could see the tree again, it was already moving past and out -from the island, too swiftly for him to catch it, even if he had been -the swimmer he had just proved himself not to be.</p> - -<p>He dropped on his knees, there on the island's rocky spine, and -watched it fade in the grayness of the rain, until the green of its -branches was lost in a grayish blob, and this in the general welter of -storm and waves. And suddenly a dark horror of death closed over him, -blotting out all the scene.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A voice roused him. "That is too bad," said the plant.</p> - -<p>He turned his head numbly. He was kneeling less than half a dozen feet -from the little hollow where the plant still sheltered. He looked at it -now, dazed, as if he could not remember what it was, nor how it came to -talk to him. Then his eyes cleared a little of their shock and he crept -over to it on hands and knees and crouched in the shelter of the hollow.</p> - -<p>"The water is rising more swiftly," said the plant. "It will be not -long now."</p> - -<p>"No!" said Calvin. The word was lost in the sound of the waves and -wind, as though it had never been. Nor, the minute it was spoken, -could he remember what he had meant to deny by it. It had been only a -response without thought, an instinctive negation.</p> - -<p>"You make me wonder," said the plant, after a little, "why it hurts you -so—this thought of dying. Since you first became alive, you have faced -ultimate death. And you have not faced it alone. All things die. This -storm must die. This rock on which we lie will not exist forever. Even -worlds and suns come at last to their ends, and galaxies, perhaps even -the Universe."</p> - -<p>Calvin shook his head. He did not answer.</p> - -<p>"You are a fighting people," said the plant, almost as if to itself. -"Well and good. Perhaps a life like mine, yielding, giving to the -forces of nature, traveling before the wind, sees less than you see, of -a reason for clawing hold on existence. But still it seems to me that -even a fighter would be glad at last to quit the struggle, when there -is no other choice."</p> - -<p>"Not here," said Calvin thickly. "Not now."</p> - -<p>"Why not here, why not now," said the plant, "when it has to be -somewhere and sometime?"</p> - -<p>Calvin did not answer.</p> - -<p>"I feel sorry for you," said the plant. "I do not like to see things -suffer."</p> - -<p>Raising his head a little and looking around him, Calvin could see the -water, risen high around them, so that waves were splashing on all -sides, less than the length of his own body away.</p> - -<p>"It wouldn't make sense to you," said Calvin then, raising his rain-wet -face toward the plant. "You're old by your standards. I'm young. I've -got things to do. You don't understand."</p> - -<p>"No," the plant agreed. "I do not understand."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Calvin crawled a little closer to the plant, into the hollow, until -he could see the vibrating air-sac that produced the voice of the -plant. "Don't you see? I've got to do something—I've got to feel I've -accomplished something—before I quit."</p> - -<p>"What something?" asked the plant.</p> - -<p>"I don't <i>know</i>!" cried Calvin. "I just know I haven't! I feel thrown -away!"</p> - -<p>"What is living? It is feeling and thinking. It is seeding and trying -to understand. It is companionship of your own people. What more is -there?"</p> - -<p>"You have to do something."</p> - -<p>"Do what?"</p> - -<p>"Something important. Something to feel satisfied about." A wave, -higher than the rest, slapped the rock a bare couple of feet below them -and sent spray stinging in against them. "You have to say, 'Look, maybe -it wasn't much, but I did this.'"</p> - -<p>"What kind of this?"</p> - -<p>"How do I know?" shouted Calvin. "Something—maybe something nobody -else did—maybe something that hasn't been done before!"</p> - -<p>"For yourself?" said the plant. A higher wave slapped at the very rim -of their hollow, and a little water ran over and down to pool around -them. Calvin felt it cold around his knees and wrists. "Or for the -doing?"</p> - -<p>"For the doing! For the doing!"</p> - -<p>"If it is for the doing, can you take no comfort from the fact there -are others of your own kind to do it?"</p> - -<p>Another wave came in on them. Calvin moved spasmodically right up -against the plant and put his arms around it, holding on.</p> - -<p>"I have seeded ten times and done much thinking," said the -plant—rather muffledly, for Calvin's body was pressing against its -air-sac. "I have not thought of anything really new, or startling, or -great, but I am satisfied." It paused a moment as a new wave drenched -them and receded. They were half awash in the hollow now, and the -waves came regularly. "I do not see how this is so different from what -you have done. But I am content." Another and stronger wave rocked -them. The plant made a sound that might have been of pain at its roots -tearing. "Have you seeded?"</p> - -<p>"No," said Calvin, and all at once, like light breaking at last into -the dark cave of his being, in this twelfth hour, it came to him—all -of what he had robbed himself in his search for a victory. Choking on a -wave, he clung to the plant with frenzied strength. "Nothing!" The word -came torn from him as if by some ruthless hand. "I've got nothing!"</p> - -<p>"Then I understand at last," said the plant. "For of all things, the -most terrible is to die unfruitful. It is no good to say we <i>will</i> -not be beaten, because there is always waiting, somewhere, that which -can beat us. And then a life that is seedless goes down to defeat -finally and forever. But when one has seeded, there is no ending of the -battle, and life mounts on life until the light is reached by those far -generations in which we have had our own small but necessary part. Then -our personal defeat has been nothing, for though we died, we are still -living, and though we fell, we conquered."</p> - -<p>But Calvin, clinging to the plant with both arms, saw only the water -closing over him.</p> - -<p>"Too late—" he choked. "Too late—too late—"</p> - -<p>"No," bubbled the plant. "Not too late yet. This changes things. For -I have seeded ten times and passed on my life. But you—I did not -understand. I did not realize your need."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The flood, cresting, ran clear and strong, the waves breaking heavily -on the drowned shore by the river mouth. The rescue spinner, two hours -out of Base and descending once again through the fleeting murk, -checked at the sight of a begrimed human figure, staggering along the -slick margin of the shore, carrying something large and limp under one -arm, and with the other arm poking at the ground with a stick.</p> - -<p>The spinner came down almost on top of him, and the two men in it -reached to catch Calvin. He could hardly stand, let alone stumble -forward, but stumble he did.</p> - -<p>"Cal!" said the pilot. "Hold up! It's us."</p> - -<p>"Let go," said Calvin thickly. He pulled loose, dug with his stick, -dropped something from the limp thing into the hole he had made, and -moved on.</p> - -<p>"You out of your head, Cal?" cried the co-pilot. "Come on, we've got to -get you back to the hospital."</p> - -<p>"No," said Calvin, pulling away again.</p> - -<p>"What're you doing?" demanded the pilot. "What've you got there?"</p> - -<p>"Think-plant. Dead," said Calvin, continuing his work. "<i>Let go!</i>" He -fought weakly, but so fiercely that they did turn him loose again. "You -don't understand. Saved my life."</p> - -<p>"Saved your life?" The pilot followed him. "How?"</p> - -<p>"I was on an island. In the river. Flood coming up." Calvin dug a fresh -hole in the ground. "It could have lived a little longer. It let me -pull it ahead of time—so I'd have something to float to shore on." He -turned exhaustion-bleared eyes on them. "Saved my life."</p> - -<p>The pilot and the co-pilot looked at each other as two men look at each -other over the head of a child, or a madman.</p> - -<p>"All right, Cal," said the pilot. "So it saved your life. But how come -you've got to do this? And what <i>are</i> you doing, anyhow?"</p> - -<p>"What am I doing?" Calvin paused entirely and turned to face them. -"What am I doing?" he repeated on a rising note of wonder. "Why, you -damn fools, I'm doing the first real thing I ever did in my life! I'm -saving the lives of these seeds!"</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Good Seed, by Mark Mallory - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GOOD SEED *** - -***** This file should be named 60761-h.htm or 60761-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/7/6/60761/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: The Good Seed - -Author: Mark Mallory - -Release Date: November 22, 2019 [EBook #60761] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GOOD SEED *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - the good seed - - By MARK MALLORY - - _The island was drowning--if they - failed to find some common ground, - both of them were doomed._ - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Worlds of If Science Fiction, January 1960. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -They said--as they have said of so many frontiersmen just like -him--that there must have been a woman in his past, to make him what he -was. And indeed there had, but she was no flesh-and-blood female. The -name of his lady was Victoria, whom the Greeks called Nike and early -confounded with the Pallas Athena, that sterile maiden. And at the age -of thirty-four she had Calvin Mulloy most firmly in her grasp, for he -had neither wife nor child, nor any close friend worth mentioning--only -his hungry dream for some great accomplishment. - -It had harried him to the stars, that dream of his. It had driven -him to the position of top survey engineer on the new, raw planet of -Mersey, still largely unexplored and unmapped. And it had pushed him, -too, into foolishnesses like this latest one, building a sailplane out -of scrap odds and ends around the Mersey Advance Base--a sailplane -which had just this moment been caught in a storm and cracked up on an -island the size of a city backyard, between the banks of one of the -mouths of the Adze River. - -The sailplane was gone the moment it hit. Actually it had come down -just short of the island and floated quickly off, what was left of -it, while Calvin was thrashing for the island with that inept stroke -of his. He pulled himself up, gasping, onto the rocks, and, with the -coolness of a logical man who has faced crises before, set himself -immediately to taking stock of his situation. - -He was wet and winded, but since he was undrowned and on solid land in -the semitropics, he dismissed that part of it from his mind. It had -been full noon when he had been caught in the storm, and it could not -be much more than minutes past that now, so swiftly had everything -happened; but the black, low clouds, racing across the sky, and the -gusts of intermittent rain, cut visibility down around him. - -He stood up on his small island and leaned against the wind that blew -in and up the river from the open gulf. On three sides he saw nothing -but the fast-riding waves. On the fourth, though, shading his eyes -against the occasional bursts of rain, he discerned a long, low, -curving blackness that would be one of the river shores. - -There lay safety. He estimated its distance from him at less than a -hundred and fifty yards. It was merely, he told himself, a matter of -reaching it. - - * * * * * - -Under ordinary conditions, he would have settled down where he was and -waited for rescue. He was not more than fifteen or twenty miles from -the Advance Base, and in this storm they would waste no time waiting -for him to come in, before starting out to search for him. No sailplane -could survive in such a blow. Standing now, with the wind pushing at -him and the rain stinging against his face and hands, he found time -for a moment's wry humor at his own bad luck. On any civilized world, -such a storm would have been charted and predicted, if not controlled -entirely. Well, the more fool he, for venturing this far from Base. - -It was in his favor that this world of Mersey happened to be so -Earthlike that the differences between the two planets were mostly -unimportant. Unfortunately, it was the one unimportant difference that -made his present position on the island a death trap. The gulf into -which his river emptied was merely a twentieth the area of the Gulf of -Mexico--but in this section it was extremely shallow, having an overall -average depth of around seventy-five feet. When one of these flash -storms formed suddenly out over its waters, the wind could either drain -huge tidal areas around the mouths of the Adze, or else raise the river -level within hours a matter of thirty feet. - -With the onshore wind whistling about his ears right now, it was only -too obvious to Calvin that the river was rising. This rocky little bit -sticking some twelve or fifteen feet above the waves could expect to be -overwhelmed in the next few hours. - -He looked about him. The island was bare except for a few straggly -bushes. He reached out for a shoot from a bush beside him. It came up -easily from the thin layer of soil that overlaid the rocks, and the -wind snatched it out of his hand. He saw it go skipping over the tops -of the waves in the direction of the shore, until a wave-slope caught -it and carried it into the next trough and out of sight. It at least, -he thought, would reach the safety of the river bank. But it would take -a thousand such slender stems, plaited into a raft, to do him any good; -and there were not that many stems, and not that much time. - -Calvin turned and climbed in toward the center high point of the -island. It was only a few steps over the damp soil and rocks, but when -he stood upright on a little crown of rock and looked about him, it -seemed that the island was smaller than ever, and might be drowned at -any second by the wind-lashed waves. Moreover, there was nothing to be -seen which offered him any more help or hope of escape. - -Even then, he was not moved to despair. He saw no way out, but this -simply reinforced his conviction that the way out was hiding about him -somewhere, and he must look that much harder for it. - -He was going to step down out of the full force of the wind, when he -happened to notice a rounded object nestling in a little hollow of the -rock below him, about a dozen or so feet away. - - * * * * * - -He went and stood over it, seeing that his first guess as to its nature -had been correct. It was one of the intelligent traveling plants -that wandered around the oceans of this world. It should have been at -home in this situation. Evidently, however, it had made the mistake -of coming ashore here to seed. It was now rooted in the soil of the -island, facing death as surely as he; if the wind or the waves tore it -from its own helplessly anchored roots. - -"Can you understand me?" he asked it. - -There was an odd sort of croaking from it, which seemed to shape itself -into words, though the how of it remained baffling to the ear. It was -a sort of supplemental telepathy at work, over and above the rough -attempts to imitate human speech. Some of these intelligent plants -they had got to know in this area could communicate with them in this -fashion, though most could not. - -"I know you, man," said the plant. "I have seen your gathering." It was -referring to the Advance Base, which had attracted a steady stream of -the plant visitors at first. - -"Know any way to get ashore?" Calvin asked. - -"There is none," said the plant. - -"I can't see any, either." - -"There is none," repeated the plant. - -"Everyone to his own opinion," said Calvin. Almost he sneered a little. -He turned his gaze once more about the island. "In my book, them that -_won't_ be beat _can't_ be beat. That's maybe where we're different, -plant." - -He left the plant and went for a walk about the island. It had been -in his mind that possibly a drifting log or some such could have -been caught by the island and he could use this to get ashore. He -found nothing. For a few minutes, at one end of the island, he stood -fascinated, watching a long sloping black rock with a crack in it, -reaching down into the water. There was a small tuft of moss growing -in the crack about five inches above where the waves were slapping. As -he watched, the waves slapped higher and higher, until he turned away -abruptly, shivering, before he could see the water actually reach and -cover the little clump of green. - -For the first time a realization that he might not get off the island -touched him. It was not yet fear, this realization, but it reached -deep into him and he felt it, suddenly, like a pressure against his -heart. As the moss was being covered, so could he be covered, by the -far-reaching inexorable advance of the water. - -And then this was wiped away by an abrupt outburst of anger and -self-ridicule that he--who had been through so many dangers--should -find himself pinned by so commonplace a threat. A man, he told -himself, could die of drowning anywhere. There was no need to go -light-years from his place of birth to find such a death. It made all -dying--and all living--seem small and futile and insignificant, and he -did not like that feeling. - - * * * * * - -Calvin went back to the plant in its little hollow, tight-hugging to -the ground and half-sheltered from the wind, and looked down on its -dusky basketball-sized shape, the tough hide swollen and ready to burst -with seeds. - -"So you think there's no way out," he said roughly. - -"There is none," said the plant. - -"Why don't you just let yourself go if you think like that?" Calvin -said. "Why try to keep down out of the wind, if the waves'll get you -anyway, later?" - -The plant did not answer for a while. - -"I do not want to die," it said then. "As long as I am alive, there is -the possibility of some great improbable chance saving me." - -"Oh," said Calvin, and he himself was silent in turn. "I thought you'd -given up." - -"I cannot give up," said the plant. "I am still alive. But I know there -is no way to safety." - -"You make a lot of sense." Calvin straightened up to squint through the -rain at the dark and distant line of the shore. "How much more time -would you say we had before the water covers this rock?" - -"The eighth part of a daylight period, perhaps more, perhaps less. The -water can rise either faster or more slowly." - -"Any chance of it cresting and going down?" - -"That would be a great improbable chance such as that of which I -spoke," said the plant. - -Calvin rotated slowly, surveying the water around them. Bits and pieces -of flotsam were streaming by them on their way before the wind, now -angling toward the near bank. But none were close enough or large -enough to do Calvin any good. - -"Look," said Calvin abruptly, "there's a fisheries survey station -upriver here, not too far. Now, I could dig up the soil holding your -roots. If I did that, would you get to the survey station as fast as -you could and tell them I'm stranded here?" - -"I would be glad to," said the plant. "But you cannot dig me up. My -roots have penetrated into the rock. If you tried to dig me up, they -would break off--and I would die that much sooner." - -"You would, would you?" grunted Calvin. But the question was -rhetorical. Already his mind was busy searching for some other way out. -For the first time in his life, he felt the touch of cold about his -heart. Could this be fear, he wondered. But he had never been afraid of -death. - -Crouching down again to be out of the wind and rain, he told himself -that knowledge still remained a tool he could use. The plant must know -something that was, perhaps, useless to it, but that could be twisted -to a human's advantage. - -"What made you come to a place like this to seed?" he asked. - -"Twenty nights and days ago, when I first took root here," said the -plant, "this land was safe. The signs were good for fair weather. And -this place was easy of access from the water. I am not built to travel -far on land." - -"How would you manage in a storm like this, if you were not rooted -down?" - -"I would go with the wind until I found shelter," said the plant. "The -wind and waves would not harm me then. They hurt only whatever stands -firm and opposes them." - -"You can't communicate with others of your people from here, can you?" -asked Calvin. - -"There are none close," said the plant. "Anyway, what could they do?" - -"They could get a message to the fisheries station, to get help out -here for us." - -"What help could help me?" said the plant. "And in any case they could -not go against the wind. They would have to be upwind of the station, -even to help you." - -"We could try it." - -"We could try it," agreed the plant. "But first one of my kind must -come into speaking range. We still hunt our great improbable chance." - - * * * * * - -There was a moment's silence between them in the wind and rain. The -river was noisy, working against the rock of the island. - -"There must be something that would give us a better chance than just -sitting here," said Calvin. - -The plant did not answer. - -"What are you thinking about?" demanded Calvin. - -"I am thinking of the irony of our situation," said the plant. "You are -free to wander the water, but cannot. I can wander the water, but I am -not free to do so. This is death, and it is a strange thing." - -"I don't get you." - -"I only mean that it makes no difference--that I am what I am, or that -you are what you are. We could be any things that would die when the -waves finally cover the island." - -"Right enough," said Calvin impatiently. "What about it?" - -"Nothing about it, man," said the plant. "I was only thinking." - -"Don't waste your time on philosophy," said Calvin harshly. "Use some -of that brain power on a way to get loose and get off." - -"Perhaps that and philosophy are one and the same." - -"You're not going to convince me of that," said Calvin, getting up. -"I'm going to take another look around the island." - - * * * * * - -The island, as he walked around its short margin, showed itself to be -definitely smaller. He paused again by the black rock. The moss was -lost now, under the water, and the crack was all but under as well. He -stood shielding his eyes against the wind-driven rain, peering across -at the still visible shore. The waves, he noted, were not extreme--some -four or five feet in height--which meant that the storm proper was -probably paralleling the land some distance out in the gulf. - -He clenched his fists in sudden frustration. If only he had hung on to -the sailplane--or any decent-sized chunk of it! At least going into the -water then would have been a gamble with some faint chance of success. - -He had nowhere else to go, after rounding the island. He went back to -the plant. - -"Man," said the plant, "one of my people has been blown to shelter a -little downstream." - -Calvin straightened up eagerly, turning to stare into the wind. - -"You cannot see him," said the plant. "He is caught below the river -bend and cannot break loose against the force of the wind. But he is -close enough to talk. And he sends you good news." - -"Me?" Calvin hunkered down beside the plant. "Good news?" - -"There is a large tree torn loose from the bank and floating this way. -It should strike the little bit of land where we are here." - -"Strike it? Are you positive?" - -"There are the wind and the water and the tree. They can move only to -one destination--this island. Go quickly to the windward point of the -island. The tree will be coming shortly." - -Calvin jerked erect and turned, wild triumph bursting in him. - -"Good-by, man," said the plant. - -But he was already plunging toward the downstream end of the island. He -reached it and, shielding his eyes with a hand, peered desperately out -over the water. The waves hammered upon his boots as he stood there, -and then he saw it, a mass of branches upon which the wind was blowing -as on a sail, green against black, coming toward him. - - * * * * * - -He crouched, wrung with impatience, as the tree drifted swiftly through -the water toward him, too ponderous to rise and fall more than a little -with the waves and presenting a galleonlike appearance of mass and -invincibility. As it came closer, a fear that it would, in spite of the -plant's assurances, miss the island, crept into his heart and chilled -it. - -It seemed to Calvin that it was veering--that it would pass to windward -of the island, between him and the dimly seen shore. The thought of -losing it was more than he could bear to consider; and with a sudden -burst of panic, he threw himself into the waves, beating clumsily and -frantically for it. - -The river took him into its massive fury. He had forgotten the strength -of it. His first dive took him under an incoming wave, and he emerged, -gasping, into the trough behind, with water exploding in his face. -He kicked and threw his arms about, but the slow and futile-seeming -beatings of his limbs appeared helpless as the fluttering of a -butterfly in a collector's net. He choked for air, and, rising on the -crest of one wave, found himself turned backward to face the island, -and being swept past it. - -Fear came home to him then. He lashed out, fighting only for the -solid ground of the island and his life. His world became a place of -foam and fury. He strained for air. He dug for the island. And then, -suddenly, he felt himself flung upon hard rock and gasping, crawling, -he emerged onto safety. - -He hung there on hands and knees, battered and panting. Then the -remembrance of the tree cut like a knife to the core of his fear-soaked -being. He staggered up, and, looking about, saw that he was almost to -the far end of the island. He turned. Above him, at the windward point, -the tree itself was just now grounding, branches first, and swinging -about as the long trunk, caught by the waves, pulled it around and -onward. - -With an inarticulate cry, he ran toward it. But the mass of water -against the heavy tree trunk was already pulling the branches from -their tanglings with the rock. It floated free. Taking the wind once -more in its sail of leaves, it moved slowly--and then more swiftly on -past the far side of the island. - -He scrambled up his side of the island's crest. But when he reached its -top and could see the tree again, it was already moving past and out -from the island, too swiftly for him to catch it, even if he had been -the swimmer he had just proved himself not to be. - -He dropped on his knees, there on the island's rocky spine, and -watched it fade in the grayness of the rain, until the green of its -branches was lost in a grayish blob, and this in the general welter of -storm and waves. And suddenly a dark horror of death closed over him, -blotting out all the scene. - - * * * * * - -A voice roused him. "That is too bad," said the plant. - -He turned his head numbly. He was kneeling less than half a dozen feet -from the little hollow where the plant still sheltered. He looked at it -now, dazed, as if he could not remember what it was, nor how it came to -talk to him. Then his eyes cleared a little of their shock and he crept -over to it on hands and knees and crouched in the shelter of the hollow. - -"The water is rising more swiftly," said the plant. "It will be not -long now." - -"No!" said Calvin. The word was lost in the sound of the waves and -wind, as though it had never been. Nor, the minute it was spoken, -could he remember what he had meant to deny by it. It had been only a -response without thought, an instinctive negation. - -"You make me wonder," said the plant, after a little, "why it hurts you -so--this thought of dying. Since you first became alive, you have faced -ultimate death. And you have not faced it alone. All things die. This -storm must die. This rock on which we lie will not exist forever. Even -worlds and suns come at last to their ends, and galaxies, perhaps even -the Universe." - -Calvin shook his head. He did not answer. - -"You are a fighting people," said the plant, almost as if to itself. -"Well and good. Perhaps a life like mine, yielding, giving to the -forces of nature, traveling before the wind, sees less than you see, of -a reason for clawing hold on existence. But still it seems to me that -even a fighter would be glad at last to quit the struggle, when there -is no other choice." - -"Not here," said Calvin thickly. "Not now." - -"Why not here, why not now," said the plant, "when it has to be -somewhere and sometime?" - -Calvin did not answer. - -"I feel sorry for you," said the plant. "I do not like to see things -suffer." - -Raising his head a little and looking around him, Calvin could see the -water, risen high around them, so that waves were splashing on all -sides, less than the length of his own body away. - -"It wouldn't make sense to you," said Calvin then, raising his rain-wet -face toward the plant. "You're old by your standards. I'm young. I've -got things to do. You don't understand." - -"No," the plant agreed. "I do not understand." - - * * * * * - -Calvin crawled a little closer to the plant, into the hollow, until -he could see the vibrating air-sac that produced the voice of the -plant. "Don't you see? I've got to do something--I've got to feel I've -accomplished something--before I quit." - -"What something?" asked the plant. - -"I don't _know_!" cried Calvin. "I just know I haven't! I feel thrown -away!" - -"What is living? It is feeling and thinking. It is seeding and trying -to understand. It is companionship of your own people. What more is -there?" - -"You have to do something." - -"Do what?" - -"Something important. Something to feel satisfied about." A wave, -higher than the rest, slapped the rock a bare couple of feet below them -and sent spray stinging in against them. "You have to say, 'Look, maybe -it wasn't much, but I did this.'" - -"What kind of this?" - -"How do I know?" shouted Calvin. "Something--maybe something nobody -else did--maybe something that hasn't been done before!" - -"For yourself?" said the plant. A higher wave slapped at the very rim -of their hollow, and a little water ran over and down to pool around -them. Calvin felt it cold around his knees and wrists. "Or for the -doing?" - -"For the doing! For the doing!" - -"If it is for the doing, can you take no comfort from the fact there -are others of your own kind to do it?" - -Another wave came in on them. Calvin moved spasmodically right up -against the plant and put his arms around it, holding on. - -"I have seeded ten times and done much thinking," said the -plant--rather muffledly, for Calvin's body was pressing against its -air-sac. "I have not thought of anything really new, or startling, or -great, but I am satisfied." It paused a moment as a new wave drenched -them and receded. They were half awash in the hollow now, and the -waves came regularly. "I do not see how this is so different from what -you have done. But I am content." Another and stronger wave rocked -them. The plant made a sound that might have been of pain at its roots -tearing. "Have you seeded?" - -"No," said Calvin, and all at once, like light breaking at last into -the dark cave of his being, in this twelfth hour, it came to him--all -of what he had robbed himself in his search for a victory. Choking on a -wave, he clung to the plant with frenzied strength. "Nothing!" The word -came torn from him as if by some ruthless hand. "I've got nothing!" - -"Then I understand at last," said the plant. "For of all things, the -most terrible is to die unfruitful. It is no good to say we _will_ -not be beaten, because there is always waiting, somewhere, that which -can beat us. And then a life that is seedless goes down to defeat -finally and forever. But when one has seeded, there is no ending of the -battle, and life mounts on life until the light is reached by those far -generations in which we have had our own small but necessary part. Then -our personal defeat has been nothing, for though we died, we are still -living, and though we fell, we conquered." - -But Calvin, clinging to the plant with both arms, saw only the water -closing over him. - -"Too late--" he choked. "Too late--too late--" - -"No," bubbled the plant. "Not too late yet. This changes things. For -I have seeded ten times and passed on my life. But you--I did not -understand. I did not realize your need." - - * * * * * - -The flood, cresting, ran clear and strong, the waves breaking heavily -on the drowned shore by the river mouth. The rescue spinner, two hours -out of Base and descending once again through the fleeting murk, -checked at the sight of a begrimed human figure, staggering along the -slick margin of the shore, carrying something large and limp under one -arm, and with the other arm poking at the ground with a stick. - -The spinner came down almost on top of him, and the two men in it -reached to catch Calvin. He could hardly stand, let alone stumble -forward, but stumble he did. - -"Cal!" said the pilot. "Hold up! It's us." - -"Let go," said Calvin thickly. He pulled loose, dug with his stick, -dropped something from the limp thing into the hole he had made, and -moved on. - -"You out of your head, Cal?" cried the co-pilot. "Come on, we've got to -get you back to the hospital." - -"No," said Calvin, pulling away again. - -"What're you doing?" demanded the pilot. "What've you got there?" - -"Think-plant. Dead," said Calvin, continuing his work. "_Let go!_" He -fought weakly, but so fiercely that they did turn him loose again. "You -don't understand. Saved my life." - -"Saved your life?" The pilot followed him. "How?" - -"I was on an island. In the river. Flood coming up." Calvin dug a fresh -hole in the ground. "It could have lived a little longer. It let me -pull it ahead of time--so I'd have something to float to shore on." He -turned exhaustion-bleared eyes on them. "Saved my life." - -The pilot and the co-pilot looked at each other as two men look at each -other over the head of a child, or a madman. - -"All right, Cal," said the pilot. "So it saved your life. But how come -you've got to do this? And what _are_ you doing, anyhow?" - -"What am I doing?" Calvin paused entirely and turned to face them. -"What am I doing?" he repeated on a rising note of wonder. "Why, you -damn fools, I'm doing the first real thing I ever did in my life! I'm -saving the lives of these seeds!" - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Good Seed, by Mark Mallory - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GOOD SEED *** - -***** This file should be named 60761.txt or 60761.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/7/6/60761/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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