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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..9d8f454 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #68218 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68218) diff --git a/old/68218-0.txt b/old/68218-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 45029b7..0000000 --- a/old/68218-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1983 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Fine Feathers, by George O. Smith - -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 -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Fine Feathers - -Author: George O. Smith - -Illustrator: Kramer - -Release Date: June 1, 2022 [eBook #68218] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FINE FEATHERS *** - - - - - - Fine Feathers - - By GEORGE O. SMITH - - Illustrated by Kramer - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Astounding Science-Fiction, January 1946. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -_Ara, the crow, was aware of the fact that he was a crow. This and this -alone made him different from his fellow crows. Because he recognized -the fact, it made him aware of the things that separated the crows from -the pheasants that abounded across the meadow--and he admired their -fine plumage and elegant ways._ - -_He began to scorn the idea of being a crow, and resented the attitude -of his fellows. They were satisfied to be crows, and could not -understand his resentment nor his desires, and they even scorned the -idea that he was above them because he wanted to be other than a crow. -In fact, they did not even understand his concept of being anything -else. They did not look up to him for thinking over their heads._ - -_He should have left them and made his way alone. But he wanted to -show them how much more he was than they, and so he decked himself in -the plumage of one of the pheasants and then started to lord it over -the rest of the crows...._ - - --_ÆSOP_ - - * * * * * - -Wanniston fixed the other man with a piercing gaze. "Sorry," he said. -"Quite sorry. But it can not be done that way, you know. The whole -proposition was your idea." - -"I know," said the other man. He inspected Wanniston's large, -well-proportioned frame, his strong features, and his absolute poise -and wondered how any man, with all to recommend him, could be so -utterly unsympathetic. The coldness in his face set him apart from -one of the Galactic Ones. "The proposition was sensible enough--yet I -failed. Even though I failed, my manipulations were properly done, you -will agree." - -Wanniston nodded. - -"Where did I fail?" - -"You struck a snag." - -"It was not my fault." - -"Are you crawling?" snapped Wanniston. - -"Perhaps," said the other man bitterly. "I want to know how I failed." - -Wanniston smiled deprecatorily. "Lincoln, you failed because you -neglected to take everything into account. Before you succeed--before -you can hope to plan without failure, you must learn to take everything -into account." - -"One cannot take everything into account." - -"Yes, one can. It is quite possible--if you know how." - -"Everything's easy," said Lincoln sourly, "once you know how." - -"Certainly," laughed Wanniston. - -"And because I made a mistake, I failed." - -"Had you taken everything into account, you would have known that you -could never succeed. You wouldn't have started, and now you wouldn't be -a complete and broken failure." - -"You may well gloat." - -"I'm not gloating." - -"I believe that," admitted Lincoln. "But that changes nothing." - -"You understand our position, Lincoln. If we prevented you from trying, -well, you might have succeeded, and we'd never know the benefits of -your success. It was your idea, and you wanted to try. But don't feel -too broken. Others have tried." - -"Small consolation. Knowing that another man is starving will not put -food in my _belly_." Lincoln stood up, dusted off his jacket, and left -the office. - -The report of a pistol echoed and re-echoed up and down the corridor, -reverberating and hushing until it could be mistaken for a wild cackle -of laughter. - - * * * * * - -Wanniston went into the small office beside his own, through an -interconnecting door. The key to the outer door hung in the lock by the -tongue, and the office was a sharp contrast to his spotless business -office. Here was no clean desk, no bookcase bulging with erudition, -no deep-pile carpet. Instead, the place was a litter of complicated -equipment. Not messy, in the dirty sense of the word, but the standard -neglect of any laboratory. Delicate instruments stood on the floor, -a box was partly filled with discarded parts, and several pieces of -partly disassembled apparatus lined the walls. On the desk, which was -the cleanest spot in the room, there stood a small cabinet. It was not -the precisely finished cabinet that comes with commercial equipment, -but strictly functional. There was no pattern to the dials--at least -there had been no attempt to arrange the controls in sensible pattern. -They stuck out wherever they were needed--and the sides and top each -had a knob or two. - -Wanniston slid the headpiece over his temples and snapped the main -switch. A split-second timer kicked in for less than one-tenth of a -second, waited for ten seconds, and then repeated the dose. Four times -it followed the sequence of keying the machine for a period of less -than a tenth of a second, following with a ten-second pause. Finally it -gave Wanniston a full one-second charge and then ceased. - -The financier removed the temple set and sat thinking for a moment. -There was a bit of resentment at the machine--not resentment, exactly, -but a slight feeling of annoyance that he must take such microscopic -doses of the machine. - -He knew the story of Andrew Tremaine and how the publisher's attempts -to use the machine had resulted in self-destruction because it had -been too good. But, smiled Wanniston, he really had no intention of -trying to lift the whole race to the level of the Ambassador of the -Galactic Ones, the emissary Gerd Lel Rayne. Rayne had told him. - -Not the complete story, of course. Rayne could never tell that. Nor if -he did, Wanniston could not have understood it. But he did know that -Tremaine had developed such a machine and had energized his mind with -disastrous results. - -Obviously, Tremaine could not have gone on living after that. Tremaine -was pretty much of an extrovert who loved people and wanted them all -to advance rapidly. Wanniston was self-centered and introverted and -wanted nothing more than to run the show himself. Tremaine could not -live in a world alone--and with his energized brain, he was in a world -alone. Gerd Lel Rayne could be his only friend, he and Gaya, and their -friendship must necessarily be one kept under cover. But Wanniston -could, did, and liked a world alone. He had no intention of letting the -world know. - -That would be disastrous. - -The world would rush to the machine, to partake of its offerings, in -order to gain the benefit of the increased intelligence. They would not -count the cost--and the cost was great. - -The machine produced sterility. - -So much for general usage. - -But for individual usage? That was another matter. He would use it for -himself alone and forget progeny. Wanniston wanted to run the show. -He felt entitled to have a hand in it, for he knew that he was better -equipped, mentally, to handle the complex problems of running the world -than many others. He was aware of man's weaknesses. They were all glad -to be just human, but it took a higher intellect to understand that -there was something better than just being human. - -Wanniston knew that, and Wanniston was going to do something about it. -Wanniston, by knowing that there was something higher, and by being -just that slight bit higher himself, was going to go all the way and -make himself Gerd Lel Rayne's mental equal. He believed that he might -even surpass the 260-odd I.Q. possessed by the emissary of the Galactic -Ones, for he knew that Rayne was merely the lowest link in a long chain -that led right up to the Grand Galactic Council. - -"Wait until you see me kid brudder," grinned Wanniston. His lips were -thin as he grinned, and there was more sardonicism than genuine humor -in the situation. - - * * * * * - -Gerd Lel Rayne smiled amicably as Wanniston entered. "Good morning," -he said with a booming, easy voice. The emissary was a large man, a -living embodiment of poise and good will. "I sent for you, John. You're -heading for trouble." - -"It's my trouble," answered Wanniston. - -Rayne shook his massive head slowly. "Not entirely. I'm concerned." - -"It's my trouble and, if it blows up in my face, it's my grief." - -Again there came that shake of the head. "No, Wanniston, you cannot -shake yourself loose like that. You are not alone. I failed my -superiors when I told you the tale of Andy Tremaine. I thought that -the knowledge of what had happened to another who tried the same thing -would deter you. Remember?" - -"Yes, I remember. I asked you why it wouldn't be possible to energize -the human brain so that it could use the whole thing instead of the -usual ten percent. You countered with the yarn about Tremaine." - -"Time alone will fill the brain, John. No machine will do it properly. -It is forced." - -"So?" - -"John, you have been using a modification of Tremaine's gadget on -yourself. I can only say that you are ambitious to the foolhardy stage. -No good will come of it." - -"Where is the danger? I care nothing for sterility. I only hope to -become as intelligent as you are." - -"If that were all," smiled Gerd, "I would look the other way. But -again--I could not. For I am responsible for every Terran in the eyes -of my superiors. I must try to protect even those who attempt mental -suicide. Along that line lies oblivion, Wanniston." - -"You do all right," snapped the financier. - -"I," smiled Gerd Lel Rayne, "was ... born to this. I used nothing to -enhance my ... native intellect." - -"What's wrong with it, though? I can do without progeny." - -"Civilization can not." - -"Civilization will know nothing--" - -"They will find out. I regret that I tried to dissuade you. In showing -you the error of continuing this line of research, I gave you the hint -that opened the corridor to you. That was a mistake. - -"Be that as it may," continued Gerd, "I must now try to show you more -of the future. You are slowly gaining in power, Wanniston, and you will -eventually become the most hated man on Terra." - -"A shame, I'm sure," snorted Wanniston. - -"That attitude will cause you grief," admonished Gerd Lel Rayne. "You -should use power wisely, not use it in sharpering your associates out -of their rights." - -"I've never cheated--" - -"Not legally. But is it right for a man to set up traps? Is it good and -moral for one of your present mental ability to figure the tertiary -causes and effects and apply them to time limits? Not only do you make -profit, Wanniston, but you set up your contracts so that you inevitably -get forfeit-money as well. You think deeper and plan better--" - -"And to the winner goes the spoils," laughed Wanniston. "I should lower -myself to their level for the sake of helping them? Not I, Gerd Lel -Rayne. I am your equal, and you know it." - -"I know it. Yet I am not overly avaricious. I am comfortable, doing my -job as best I can. I am unique, perhaps, but I do that which I am best -fitted for, and I am helping civilization." - -Wanniston smiled. "Tremaine wanted galactic power for Terra. Tremaine -wanted the ultimate for mankind. He was a complete altruist, I believe. -He wanted to raise the whole world to your level." - -"An admirable idea, lacking in certain phases of which he could know -nothing. Certain phases, Wanniston, of which you are equally ignorant!" - -"I shall find out. I shall, if necessary, surpass you, Gerd." - -"Quite possible," smiled the emissary. "Quite possible. The capacity of -the brain is almost limitless. My race uses more than yours, Wanniston. -Eventually we will fill ours more and more as the centuries pass. But -remember that we are as much on the way up as your race is. No one -should move too fast." - -"Why?" - -"Because, that way leads to--oblivion." - -"Again, why?" - -"Nature has her safeguards. She knows the dangers of becoming too wise -too soon. Therefore she causes sterility. Strange thing, Wanniston, -but there is absolutely no way in which to energize the brain without -it. One must permit evolution to take its course. One must hope that -his song will have greater native intelligence. Look, Wanniston. -Your father, when a boy, played with toys of a technical nature not -even known ten centuries before. You as a boy scorned making your -construction toy operate as a prime mover, with anything so archaic as -an atomic converter. You demanded the prime, the ultimate; the Solar -Phoenix in miniature. Nowadays, the kids insist upon using miniature -directive-generators. - -"Directive power," continued Gerd, "is the daily work. Years ago it -took men most of their lives to study it, today the kids play with it -in toys. Tomorrow--perhaps one of your race will discover interstellar -power--Galactic Power--and your sons and grandsons will demand minute -galactic generators to run their gadgets. Ten centuries ago, children -were toying with electricity--today they are playing with directives. -That, Wanniston, is wisdom gained in the proper way." - -"And what should I do?" - -"Instead of using your power to gain the world, you might use that -intellect to better mankind." Gerd stretched and stood up. "But you -will not," he finished. "Your type will not." - -"No, I will not." - -Gerd led Wanniston to the door, and courteously showed him out. "I hope -to see you again," he said honestly. Wanniston nodded; the financier -understood. Despite a difference in attitude between the emissary and -himself, he knew that having another with an equal intelligence was -desirable. Wanniston did not require it, but the emissary was a friend -to all, an extrovert, and required friendship. - -Wanniston would return. Gerd Lel Rayne was covering something. There -was more to Gerd Lel Rayne than met the eye, and he knew it. He -understood, with Gerd, all that Gerd said regarding help for Terra in -scientific matters. Rayne could advise, could occasionally point out -minor errors or make suggestions, but could not openly state facts. -Well, Wanniston wanted to know the secret. He'd be back. - - * * * * * - -Gaya Lel Rayne entered the room and caught her husband's mental -distress, slight as it was. She came over beside him and added to -the impact of her presence with him the powerful attraction of her. -Gerd put a hand on her shoulder and they flowed together momentarily. -Powerful were their minds, and powerful was the feeling between them; -no Terran could have entertained a bitter thought within several -hundred feet of their embrace. - -"What is it, Gerd?" she asked. - -"Wanniston." - -"Still trying?" - -"Succeeded." - -"Dangerous." It was a statement, not a question. - -"Yes--and no," replied Gerd. "He will not willingly pass on his illegal -knowledge. Terra would skin him alive if they knew that he was -extracting their resources by foul means. Wanniston, on the other hand, -knows that he could drag the temple down over all of Terra by merely -announcing the machine." - -"But isn't sterility enough of a deterrent?" asked Gaya. - -"I don't know. Look, Gaya. Those who cared nothing for the future would -indulge in mental energizing. They would outstrip those who cared -for the future; those with the proper attitude would become slaves, -practically. Within a century, every worthwhile thing would be in the -hands of those who cared nothing for progeny." - -"There is a saving factor," objected Gaya. "The new ones would come -from the ranks of those who cared--" - -"Of course," laughed Gerd. "But the optimistic philosophy of the Terran -would die. One could take his choice. Either he has children or he fits -in with those who have forsaken the future." - -Gerd dropped his glance and worried visibly for a moment. "It is a -gloomy philosophy, Gaya. Slavery or sterility. No future either way. -Depressive philosophy--which would lead to planetary suicide." - -"Couldn't one have children first and try the machine afterwards?" -asked Gaya brightly. - -"Uh-huh--but why? Those who wait will be behind those who did not. Of -course there will be a place for all, just as there is now. I fear -that the race would die out anyway, Gaya. The machine can not be -circumvented; its effects may not be counteracted once it is used. -Schoolboys and schoolgirls would try it once, throwing away their -futures with the youthful willingness to take chances. They would stand -above the others in their classes--until their fellows tried it. Forbid -it? Like sin, Gaya, you can legislate against it but you can not make -it unpopular. Ban it and you will have its effects smuggled in to the -youth of Terra--who will try it if only because their folks forbid it. -They will see the effects. They will see their parents in slavery.... -Slavery, Gaya, entered into willingly--for the children themselves!" - -He faced Gaya with a powerful gesture. "The children will see it. They -will decide that slavery is no compensation for parenthood. Why waste -time? Why sit in slavery for years while you indulge in the duty of -bearing children, and then go to take up the job of making a financial -start? No, once this is released, Terra may die." - -"Destroy him--and his machine." - -Gerd shook his head. "That I can no longer do," he said sadly. "He is -our equal now. Tomorrow he will be our superiors, by a minute bit. Yet -today he is powerful enough of mind to tell by my actions that I intend -to destroy him. I can not--for once I try, I will lose, the Galactic -Ones will lose, and Terra will lose. I can call for no help from Terra. -I can ask the field representative when he arrives. I might even call -for help--" - -"It would be justified," said Gaya, earnestly. - -"I have done nothing yet. I should try--" - -"Try what?" - -"I don't know." - -Gaya nodded. "Call Yord Tan Verde. He will understand." - -Into the penthouse went Gerd and Gaya, to call the field representative -of the Galactic Ones. Verde answered at length, and listened to the -entire story. He asked a number of questions that Gerd thought to have -no connection, but Gerd answered. Then Yord Tan Verde laughed a bit and -told Gerd Lel Rayne not to worry. - -It was very unsatisfactory. - - * * * * * - -Will Conan stood up and faced the others at the table. "I won't kill -myself," he shouted, banging his fist on the table. "I'll kill him -first!" - -"I tried that," remarked a tall man at the other end of the table. - -Conan smiled wryly. "Peter Wilks tried it, all right," he told the -rest. "Tell us what happened, Pete." - -"I tried four times. Each time he stopped me in a bold way that seemed -to be effortless. It was as though he knew--" - -"Well, what else can we do? Can we ignore him?" - -"Why not?" - -"Is there a man here that does not have his finger in your business?" - -Seventeen men shook their heads. - -"Is there a man among us that has one microscopic shred of evidence to -the fact that Wanniston is dishonest?" - -There was not. - -"O.K.--so how do we go about it?" - -No one knew. - -Conan sat down. "We can't squeeze him out, is that it?" - -"We can not do anything at all," snarled another man. "No matter what -we try, he betters us. He's a sharper. If we try something legal, he's -our better. If we get dirty, he cleans us anyway--but the devil does it -legally. You can't win." - -"There were once twenty-three of us," said Peter Wilks. "Three are -in jail--for crimes they did not commit. One is in jail for a crime -that he did commit, the crime of trying to frame Wanniston. Two are -dead--suicides because they could no longer take defeat after defeat at -Wanniston's fine Machiavellian hand. He's a menace." - -"We're like the mice that decided to hang a bell on the cat," laughed -Conan bitterly. "Six of us have tried and failed. Must we try -separately? Can he read minds?" - -Wilks jumped to his feet. "I say he can!" - -"Then he's more than a menace. He's a devil!" - -"So what? We've appealed to Gerd Lel Rayne. And what did he say? -He said that we should hang tight because Wanniston was headed for -trouble." - -"Do we wait until we are all dead before it happens?" snapped Wilks. - -"I'm no prophet," growled Conan. "I know this. We're licked. Or is this -any good. Can we run him out?" - -"How?" - -"Superman he may be. Superior to even Gerd Lel Rayne--Sorry, Lel -Rayne," he said, seeing the emissary as Gerd opened the door. "You -heard?" - -Gerd nodded pleasantly. "Wanniston's intellect has increased. A fatal -illness. He does not recognize it, nor would he believe it if he -were told. Yet it is so; Wanniston's illness has caused an increase -in the acuity of the brain, a definite increase in the intelligence -quotient. He is quite capable of out-thinking any of you--of us, pardon -me. I feel no self-reproach, though. I," and Gerd Lel Rayne laughed -heartily--too heartily, though the Terrans did not know it, "have known -men of my race who were superior to me, and have no animosity as long -as I am well fitted to my position, and can do my job well, better than -many others. I may not advance above my present level, yet I can be -emissary to Terra where the bulk of my race would find it against their -liking." - -"Well, suppose you tell us what to do?" - -"I don't know," admitted Gerd. "Isolate him. Can you do that?" - -"No. He has a finger in every man's business here. We can do nothing -unless he is permitted to pass on it. Furthermore, he will find it out -in time to circumvent us if we try to operate without his approval. We -do that and we land in jail, our life's ambitions stripped from us and -dropped into his hands like a ripe plum." - -"I know," said Gerd. "I know." - -"He's your mental superior too?" asked Wilks uncertainly. - -Gerd nodded. "I can try, though. My mental superior he may be, but I am -possessed of the knowledge of certain arts of which he knows nothing. -That is the heritage of my race: the things I played with as a child. I -still ... occasionally ... like to play--" - - * * * * * - -Wanniston entered the basement workshop of Gerd Lel Rayne and watched -while the emissary made adjustments on a bit of complex apparatus. - -"Tricky gadget," said Wanniston. - -"It is that." - -"Energy collector--director, converter," said Wanniston. "You're about -to release the secret of galactic power?" - -"No, I was just tinkering," said Gerd. "I have no intention of telling -Terra about it." - -"I know about it now." - -"You'd tell them?" - -"You know better than that." - -"Well?" - -Wanniston grinned. - -And then before he could say more, Gaya came to the workshop room -with a group of policemen. "Gerd," she said, "they want to speak to -Wanniston." - -"Come ahead," called the financier. - -"John Wanniston, I arrest you for the crime of murder. I warn you that -any statements will be considered evidence." - -"Murder? Me? Utterly fantastic!" - -The police lieutenant smiled quietly. "We'll have to ask you to come -with us." - -"I've murdered who?" - -"You'll find out. I may say nothing." - -"I've murdered no one!" - -"That is for the State to decide--the State and a jury of twelve good -men and true." - -"Judged by those who hate me? Why should I go?" - -"Wanniston, you're a smart man. You must certainly know the implication -of any rash move." - -"But I'm innocent. Gerd--?" - -"I can do nothing. If this is false, you can prove it simply enough. -If it is true ... but why should it be true? You are a smart man, -Wanniston. You can get anything you want without murder. That should -be considered. I'll help, Wanniston, but remember, as emissary of the -Galactic Ones, I must not interfere." - -"Removed like a common criminal. I warn you, Lieutenant Alfred, that -this is utterly false and I shall have compensation. I am both capable -and willing to make you and all others pay for this outrage." - -"You'll submit to a lie-detector test?" - -"Certainly. I'll take it. I have committed no crime. I have murdered no -one!" - -Wanniston looked at Gerd Lel Rayne. Gerd shrugged. Wanniston's -intellect was most certainly capable of telling the lie detector a -lie and making the insensate machine believe it true. Gerd knew that -Wanniston knew that--and Wanniston knew that Gerd knew it also. But -Gerd was intelligent enough to know that Wanniston was smart enough to -avoid murder or running afoul of any man-made law. Any killing would -have come up immediately, and the evidence would be natural and honesty -a matter of self-defense. - -Wanniston was no fool. - -They brought in the lie detector and Wanniston slipped the headset on, -and grasped the handles. - -The lieutenant said: "John Wanniston, did you murder Peter Wilks?" - - * * * * * - -Wanniston started. _Wilks!_ - -The magnitude of the plot amazed him. It was as nasty a frame as -he could imagine. He knew that it would be as air-tight as the -machinations of sixteen men could make it--and he wondered whether -the operations of seventeen men might not be more like the truth. -Wilks was ruined; had little to live for and knew it. He--and the -rest--a sacrifice was not too unquestionable. Their crime--justified -by themselves in the thought that better it be one of them than all of -them. - -Under suspicion himself, any moves he made would be viewed with -distrust by the human race, who had cause to know him as the most hated -man on earth. Any jury, hearing of his legal trickery, knowing and -hearing the account of his masterful moves in business, which gained -him fortune upon fortune as other men fell under his steam-roller -tactics. - -Any jury. - -It was their crime. Yes. - -But if, as, and when the truth came out truth? That was another angle -and Wanniston cursed himself for not thinking with all of his 375 I.Q. -The sixteen did not do it. Wilks must have framed murder out of suicide. - -Without letting any of the others know! - -For the lie detector would be used on each witness. - -Even Gerd. - -For he had been apprehended in Gerd Lel Rayne's home. - -And Gerd would be asked the standard questions. Foolish, they were; -utterly and stupidly foolish. They asked your name; they asked the -identity of the suspected one; and-- - -_They asked if the suspected one might be able to outwit a lie -detector._ - -And Gerd Lel Rayne's answer would be a ringing, clear, and damning -"Yes!" - -This, which takes time to record; to read, passed through Wanniston's -mind in no flash of staccato continuity, but as a pattern-plan. It was -like thinking of a scotch plaid, or a linoleum pattern to the ordinary -mortal; it came instantaneously to the energized intellect of John -Wanniston, and he knew the whole futile thing from upper left to lower -right before Lieutenant Alfred's voice had ceased to echo through Gerd -Lel Rayne's workshop. - -He was framed. - -He was IT. - -And as nicely a nasty bit of connivery as ever hit the sight. - -HE was IT. - -Wanniston moved with rattlesnake swiftness. He hit the light cord, -pulled and twisted. A splurt of sparks came with blackness and -Wanniston faded back and down to run, stooped, across the workshop -floor avoiding the clutter of machinery and furniture by the faculty of -eidetic memory. - -By sensitivity of mind, he knew where Gerd Lel Rayne kept his -spacecraft, and he went there immediately. A _whoosh!_ of passing air -and Wanniston was in the stratosphere, free and away. He dropped back -again a few minutes later to his office where he bundled his mind -machine into the spacecraft before he left Terra forever. - -Terra. - -A planetful of fools. They did not respect his superior intellect. They -did not even admit it. They hated him for being able to get that which -they could not get, and they resented the fact that he was capable of -doing it to their misfortune. They gambled with him--and when they -lost, they welshed, like stinking cry-babies. - -But Wanniston was smart. He knew where he'd be appreciated. In the -galaxy were men of intellect that would welcome him. Give him another -month at the machine. - -Gerd Lel Rayne. Now he knew the truth about Gerd. Emissary! Magnificent -creature; supergenius! - -Bah! One whose intellect was moronic compared to the Galactic Ones. -One who had been placed on Terra because only a moron could be -understood by Terrans. The Galactic Ones could understand Terrans -after much painful, wearisome prodding and waiting while the Terrans, -idiotlike, stumbled through their clumsy sentence structure. But no -Terran could understand the pattern-plan of quadruple-ideas that passed -from Galactic One to Galactic One--or even the most careful effort of -the Galactic One to be patient and redundantly explicit when and if -speaking to a Terran. That is why the inbetween--Gerd Lel Rayne. - -Well, Wanniston was far superior to Gerd Lel Rayne, and another month -would see him equal to any of the Galactic Ones. - - * * * * * - -Far, long light-years across the galaxy, Wanniston loafed along, taking -accelerated treatments and seeking, idly, one of the main planets of -the Galactic Ones. He found one, finally, and slid into the spaceport -with all the boldness of a sector governor. - -He decided to brazen it out--obviously the ship would be registered and -his lack of license papers might be questioned. So he opened the space -lock and stepped to the ground to face one of the attendants. - -The attendant nodded and waved hands to an approaching crew. They -nodded at Wanniston, too, and then swarmed through the ship, servicing -it. Before Wanniston was at the registry office, the ship was lifted -and slid over to the row upon row of parked spacecraft. Wanniston noted -its position and then entered the register. - -"Name?" asked the official. - -"Wan Nes Stan," said he, putting the Galactic pronunciation to his own -name. - -"You have the ship formerly registered with Emissary Gerd Lel Rayne. -Has he another?" - -Wan Nes Stan was stopped momentarily, but his plan to brazen it out -laid another pathway. "Not that I know of," he said. - -"I'll see that another is delivered to him. You'll not be returning -that way?" - -"If I do," said Wan Nes Stan boldly, "I shall go in the way I got there -before." - -"Naturally." - -Wan Nes Stan almost gulped visibly. He wondered for a moment whether -the Galactic was having sport at his expense, or being sarcastic, or -whether he was completely taken in by the boldness. - -Wan Nes Stan entered his first Galactic city. To any Terran, it would -have been nonunderstandable in scope, but to Wan Nes Stan it was -beautiful as it should be, and yet not perfect. Color combinations -were there beyond the concept of any Terran, all blended in a mad, -ever-moving kaleidoscope of sheer symphony. Faint, stirring music -emanated from everywhere--there seemed to be no focal point--and the -blend of music with color matched exactly. Either would have been -unfinished without the other, and both would have been incomplete -without the senses of smell, taste, and feel that were excited ever so -delicately. - -There was no sign of the bustle and hustle of a mighty city. The -indolent and the loafer all moved in a precision pattern that gave the -impression of smooth machinery that wasted no motion in accomplishing -its end. - -Its end? - -What could any such perfection need with an end? Was this not the end? - -No, Wan Nes Stan knew that this was not the end. This was not -perfection, any more than any Terran city was the ultimate in combined -beauty and utility. This was not the least of the Galactic cities, nor -was it the best. It--was average. - -This was home. - -He no longer looked down upon the crawling, struggling race of -creatures that called themselves _homo sapiens_ any more than any -Terran looked derisively at a dog. They knew the dog's place in the -scheme of things and Wan Nes Stan and the rest of the Galactic Ones -knew homo sap's place. There was no scorn in his mind now. The fact -that he had once aspired to rule Terra did not appear to him to be a -lowly ambition; Wan Nes Stan knew that it was a laudable ambition at -one time in his rise-- - -"... _When he became of age he put away childish things._" - -Wan Nes Stan checked into a hotel, using his assumed name. It was -accepted without question, which pleased him greatly since he had need -of procuring some Galactic currency so that he could pay bills. It gave -him a place to stay until he could swing a deal, make a move, or steal -a pocketfull of whatever the Galactic Ones used for money. - -Assuming that the Galactic Ones were running their hotels in a manner -similar to Terran establishments, Wan Nes Stan ordered newspapers, a -library list, and dinner. Ordering these, he found, was to his liking. -There was complete rapport. The steak he ordered by projecting it as -a whole, giving the waiter a complete mental impression from sight to -texture. It was superb, just as he had pictured. - -Then he addressed himself to the papers. - -There was no price listed on the paper. He looked. He'd hoped to -establish the parity value of a newspaper for price-scaling. - -He sought the financial section. There was none. There were sports, -news items that interested him not one bit because not one of them -pertained to the robbery of anything--the latter would have given him -an initial idea of the value of things. - -The newspaper was thin and uninteresting. A society column listed the -comings and goings of people and their associations. He found among -the new arrivals column a notation of his own arrival--sketchy and -uninformative--in Gerd Lel Rayne's ship; and a statement to the effect -that Wan Nes Stan might be able to give some information as to the -struggle of Terra in their advancement to the Galactic state. - -The latter was too close to home for Wan Nes Stan. It sounded a little -as though he might be known; that his masquerade was understood. - -It was. - - * * * * * - -A knock came at the door an hour later, and as Wan Nes Stan opened the -door, the Galactic who stood there smiled and said: "Wan Nes Stan? -Formerly Terran of Terra?" - -"I ... must admit it." - -"Think nothing of it," replied the Galactic affably. "I am Len Dor -Vale, sector overseer." - -"My masquerade is known?" - -The Galactic laughed. "Known and appreciated. Look, my friend, when the -substitute becomes as efficient as the real thing, we no longer look -down upon it. You are no longer a Terran, you are as much a Galactic -One as the rest of us." - -"I am?" - -"Aren't you?" - -Wan Nes Stan swallowed. "I've considered myself so." - -"We don't object." - -"I thought you might consider me presumptive--" - -"Not in the least!" boomed Len Dor Vale. - -"That makes it easier," said Wan Nes Stan. - -"Trying to conceal your real identity is both impossible and -ridiculous," laughed Len Dor Vale. "Now, Wan Nes Stan, how will you -spend your Galactic life?" - -"First, how long have I to live?" - -"Your super-intellect will, of course, cause subconscious repair of -your body. I'd say another six or seven hundred years. You understand, -of course, that not being born one of us has cut your life expectancy. -That is too bad. But--" and the overseer dismissed the subject with a -wave and a shrug. - -"I've been a business executive most of my life." - -"You may have trouble doing anything of that nature here," said Len -Dor Vale with a sad shake of his head. "We are not a competitive race, -we Galactic Ones. I might suggest that you try the main line here; -overseeing the myriad of uninformed planets comprises the major portion -of our lives." - -"That seems not too productive." - -"No? We have all we need. Anything you want is supplied, you will -find. Our philosophy is settled and stable; we are luckily the highest -order of intelligence in this galaxy--and that fact we know. In other -galaxies near by, we have found no race to compare with us. There -are rising races in all of them, but our prime job is to bring about -the completeness of this, the First Galaxy before we struggle with -the rest. Our job, Wan Nes Stan, is to co-relate and to advise. Our -compensation is the fulfillment of our every desire. We--must carry the -burden of all intelligence. We are repaid by those races just below us -who are enlightened enough to know what we are doing and who appreciate -it. - -"Terra is not yet one of these, but another Galactic year and they will -be. Our plan is endless, Wan Nes Stan, a project that only we, the -Galactics can appreciate in its entirety. You understand the magnitude -of any plan of steering a galaxy of races into the full realization -of their destiny--and then spreading out through the universe to the -countless other galaxies to do likewise. - -"The end-product? Yes, you will, as one of us, be able to appreciate -this, too. We are still rising, ourselves. We do not know what we -may be in another million galactic years--but we do know it will be -interesting, and our regret is that we cannot live to see it. Yet our -children may, and for them we must plan." - -Wan Nes Stan nodded. Certain things penetrated deep during the speech; -they rang home with response greater than others; a natural thing. But -the one thing that flared in his mind was the statement: - -_We are not a competitive race._ - -Wan Nes Stan could and would go far in a culture like this. - -"I want to know; how much training is necessary to join the ranks of -your governmental service?" - -"About a week will suffice. You will then be given an overseer's -position. Perhaps you might enjoy being overseer in the sector that -includes Sol." - -Wan Nes Stan shook his head. "A prophet is not without honor save in -his own country," he said. - -He considered the idea of overseer's position and scorned it. He'd -continue to use the mind machine. - -_They were still rising._ - -He could and would rise too. He would rise above them, he could and -would become the high governor of all the great widespread race of -Galactics. With intelligence above them, he could and would direct them -wisely and well, and though none would live to carry his name onward, -the name of Wan Nes Stan would go ringing down the halls of time. - -But Wan Nes Stan cared little for the halls of time, really. He wanted -a present, not a future. That his name might appear as a beacon to -uncounted numbers of yet unborn Galactics was attractive; his basic -purpose was still to enjoy the power and the glory that would be his. - -He wanted the sensuous thrill of having the power that would place him -among those whose names still ring though eons have passed. - -He began to plan craftily. - - * * * * * - -"Len Dor Vale, have I your backing?" he asked. - -"In two days you have proved yourself most able," agreed Vale. - -"I have your backing." - -"Need you receive it in words?" puzzled Len Dor Vale. "Must you have -acclaim thrust upon you?" - -Wan Nes Stan smiled in self-depreciation. "I want you to help me," he -said quietly. - -Len Dor Vale nodded. "What have you in mind?" - -"I want your help in securing me a grand overseer's position." - -"We'll see. It might be done." - -"Who must we convince?" - -"Convince? Only the aptitude machine." - -"A machine?" asked Wan Nes Stan. - -"Certainly. You are rated on your ability alone, and the aptitude -machine has been devised to best select those with the greatest -aptitude." - -"I see." - -Wan Nes Stan said no more. He spent more time in his mind machine, -and he took increased and accelerated doses, checking each time to -the maximum. He knew his machine to the last decimal place, and in -six-hour-periods, Wan Nes Stan energized his brain; increasing its -capacity by mighty leaps and bounds. - -He took his aptitude test, then, and the result caused mild wonder. His -name was bandied back and forth across the galaxy, and he was requested -to appear at the great Grand Council of the Galactics. - -"Len Dor Vale, what is the real meaning behind this request?" asked Wan -Nes Stan, as the message was handed to him. - -"You do not know?" laughed the overseer. - -"Frankly, no. I suspect--but again I presume." - -"Not at all. No man presumes when his statements and beliefs are fact." - -"I have surpassed the tests required for this sector?" - -"You have surpassed all tests," smiled Len Dor Vale. - -"All tests?" - -"All tests. You are to be installed into the office of the Galactic -Governor." - -"Galactic Governor?" gloated Wan Nes Stan. - -"Oh no. Aptitude is not all. Your aptitude is the highest in our -race. Therefore you are to be installed in the office of the Galactic -Governor as Governor-select." - -"And?" - -"When your experience-ability factor exceeds that of the Galactic -Governor, you will automatically be installed in office. You -understand, of course, that higher ability will offset lacking factors -in experience, but you must have experience, Wan Nes Stan--a wealth of -it. You will gain it by being in the governor's office, working with -him, studying his methods, and--well, gaining experience." - -"As simple as that," said Wan Nes Stan, brushing his hands. - -Len Dor Vale nodded. - -"How long will it take?" asked Wan Nes Stan. - -"That depends upon you--and you alone. It depends entirely upon the -rapidity and accuracy you exhibit in forming correct evaluations." - -"I've heard that last remark before," smiled Wan Nes Stan. "A -psychiatrist once mentioned that philosophy--personal philosophy is a -man's evaluation of personal data." - -"Precisely." - -Wan Nes Stan nodded complacently. Len Dor Vale then started to help -Wan Nes Stan to pack his bag for the long journey across the galaxy to -Planet One. - -When they raced into space, Len Dor Vale went along as Wan Nes Stan's -personal advisor. - - * * * * * - -"This is routine, but a necessary part of your training," explained Len -Dor Vale. "I may as well tell you, I once was selected for a minor post -in this office and was subsequently replaced by a better-equipped man. -Therefore I know my way around here, and was selected to act as your -advisor. Each governor-select enjoys a personal advisor, you know." - -Wan Nes Stan smiled quietly. The job was strictly that of a super file -clerk. This would not last long and he knew it. With Len Dor Vale's -help, he rose swiftly, learning the intricate details with ease. By the -month, Wan Nes Stan went from department to department, learning the -basic function of each, and when his education was complete, Len Dor -Vale took him to meet the governor of the Galactic Council. - -"He is ready," said Len Dor Vale. - -"I'm glad to meet you," said the governor. - -He offered a hand, and as Wan Nes Stan took it, the grip was firm and -honest. They shook, and Wan Nes Stan went swiftly over his emotions, -asking himself the purpose of this heartiness. - -He knew that the Galactic Governor was genuinely glad to meet him. That -was against Wan Nes Stan's grain. To greet a possible--no, _positive_ -successor to such a position was not done with heartiness. It should -be done with false heartiness, a completely counterfeit facade, -behind which false front the machinery necessary to destroy was being -brought to bear. Yet Wan Nes Stan knew that no such intent was in the -governor's mind. Apparently the Galactic Governor was quite content to -be replaced by a better man--and accepted the presence of the better -man with good will and friendship. - -Wan Nes Stan wondered whether the governor's henchmen might not -lead him astray in his experience-gaining program so that he would -get a false start, or even useless and detrimental data. His -super-intelligence told him that this was not the case. Like all the -rest of the Galactics, the governor was willing that a better man be -found, and insisted that when, as, and if a better man is discovered, -that he be placed properly, even though it meant stepping aside. - -It was a philosophy that Wan Nes Stan never entertained. It was -completely altruistic. It offered with no consideration of self, the -most good for the greatest number. It was a fool's philosophy--but -then, all the Galactics were fools. - -The governor said: "You have shown a most magnificent level of -intellectual aptitude. I congratulate you." - -"You have no resentment?" - -"Can a man resent that which he knows to be right and honest--unless he -himself is unright and dishonest?" - -"I suppose not," said Wan Nes Stan. He was safe. Continued use of his -mind machine would keep him far and above all comers. "But the usual -question comes: What are you going to do?" - -"When that time arrives, I will become your aide--unless one better -fitted for the position arrives first." - -"Mind if I ask how I--" - -"Replace me? I don't mind, at all. You replace me whenever you gain -sufficient experience to balance your superior intelligence." - -"How do I get experience?" - -"By being governor," laughed the governor. - -"Look," snorted Wan Nes Stan, "prerequisite for the position is -experience in the position itself? That's a fool's statement." - -"It is the rule of the Galactic Council." - -"It remains a fool's rule." - -"Is it not sensible," asked Len Dor Vale, "to demand experience before -one is given the chance to rule a galaxy-wide civilization such as -this?" - -Wan Nes Stan could see no real objection to that and said so. - -"Then is it a fool's rule?" - -Wan Nes Stan thought. It was no fool's rule, really. But instead of -making him operate as substitute during the governor's infrequent -absences; handling the minor matters of state; and covering the lesser -functions and passing rulings on the items of secondary importance, he -should be placed in the governor's chair and advised intelligently. -This advice should come from experienced men, and as the years rolled -on, the advice should become less and less necessary until Wan Nes Stan -was handling the entire proposition himself. They were doddling old -fools, the entire cosmos of them. - -He would change that ruling as soon as he could. There would be some -changes made once he became governor--they must be shown the proper way -to administrate. After all, it was an accepted fact that Wan Nes Stan -had the highest intellect of them all. His judgment must be infallible; -his decision would be correct. Their incompetent manner in this matter -was an index of their own entire lack of integration. A period of -teaching, perhaps, one that would give them better integration of -thought, would be advisable. - -The governor excused himself as the communicator buzzed, and Len Dor -Vale took that moment to draw Wan Nes Stan out of the office. As they -passed the door, the governor called after them: - -"Good luck, Wan Nes Stan." - - * * * * * - -Len Dor Vale returned to the governor-select's quarters. "Wan Nes -Stan," he said, "you realize that your machine has done its work." - -The other nodded. "It has had practically no effect for a couple of -weeks, now." - -"Your mind is apt. In fact its increase in capacity surpasses even -our greatest dreams. But like the untutored genius, you lack the -manipulatory facility. Your mind--like the false fiction of the farmer -that suddenly composes the brilliant symphony; the unlearned blacksmith -that becomes world-acclaimed as a genius with the paintbrush; or the -completely untutored grammar-failure that turns up with the galaxy's -finest novel--is untrained. You do not want to be a flash in the pan, -Wan Nes Stan. - -"In order that you use that vast storehouse you have, you must fill -it. It is like the galaxy's finest filing system--but it is empty. The -drawer files haven't even collected dust, and the cross-index cries for -its cards to be notated. Understand?" - -"Of course. Intelligence is not sufficient. Experience can and will -prepare a man for--" - -"Be careful," smiled Len Dor Vale. "In gaining experience one gains -also knowledge." - -"My mind," said Wan Nes Stan sharply, "has the ability to contain ... -a capacity for learning far above all. I know that the prime factor -is the capacity. Without capacity, one cannot fill it with experience -and knowledge. But get the knowledge--proper and well-balanced--and -experience is really unnecessary." - -"Providing that your knowledge is gained from one having the -experience. Then you will get experience vicariously. The practise -necessary to use that experience will come similarly. You are most -fortunate, Wan Nes Stan. I want to know, can you keep yourself busy for -a few days? I must make a short trip to a conference. I must not miss -it. Can you--" - -"I can, and will. I am going to see if I can make a machine that will -transfer knowledge and experience from one mind to another. I shall -convert my own gadget, here. I will not wait five centuries before I -take my next step." - -Len Dor Vale smiled in agreement. "I'd suggest that you take some time -for amusement." - -"Amusement? Spend my time in play when there are things to be done?" - -"We think it best to balance the mind's work with the mind's ability to -play. You'll find that our fun and games are just as advanced as are -our aims and our day's work. You'll not be doing anything childish, Wan -Nes Stan." - -"Len Dor Vale, I eschewed a future long years ago. I gave up my right -to wife and family. Women have little lure for me since all women per -se look upon men as possible fathers for their children. Games have as -their fundamental concept the desire to excel in the mind or the body -as an exhibition of desirability to the female. I shall continue to -work." - -"Then I'll be returning as soon as I can. Sorry, but it is necessary." - -"No resentment," smiled Wan Nes Stan affably. "I can get along." - -Len Dor Vale smiled at the governor-select and left. He went to his -quarters, packed, and within the hour was on his way into the depths of -space. - - * * * * * - -Two days later, he was given the "come-in" signal at a distant planet -on the rim of the galaxy. He dropped his ship quickly and obediently -and made his way with deference through the city. - -The Galactic waited until he was growing impatient before the attendant -signaled him to enter the inner sanctum. - -"Before you enter ... Len Dor Vale, is it?... you have the rules?" - -"I have been here before," answered Len Dor Vale. "I have also reviewed -the rules." - -"Good. Be not disturbed if any of your questions go unanswered. -Students will not reveal anything of dangerous nature and will remain -silent rather than give false answer." - -Len Dor Vale entered the apartment. - -"I seek advice and knowledge." - -"Ask." - -"Wan Nes Stan is about to take his next step." - -"I know." - -"I ask, will it be violent?" - -"There may be violence, but it will not be a major problem." - -"Can I prevent violence?" asked Len Dor Vale. - -"No." - -Len Dor Vale nodded. "He is a violent man. I see no reason why violence -should be permitted." - -"Could you prevent it? You, admittedly, are psychologist number four -among all the Galactics." - -"I am here asking your advice." - -"What is he doing now?" - -"Attempting to convert his machine to a device that will transfer -knowledge from one brain to another. He desires that he gain the -governor's place as soon as possible." - -"He wants the next step to come at once," mused the Student. - -"As his psychologist--and number four of all--I know when the next step -will take place. I know, or can predict fairly well how Wan Nes Stan's -next move will manifest itself. Were I of his mental caliber to five -percent, I would block it!" - -"Along that road lies danger--cease following that thought!" - -"I shall, immediately." - -"Wan Nes Stan has obtruded his philosophy upon you already, Len Dor -Vale. The next step will take place soon enough that no replacement of -you will be necessary, that you know. Completion of his investigations -on the conversion of the mind machine will bring about the next -step--as you predict--sooner than it would if he were not so -single-minded in his purpose." - -"Why was Wan Nes Stan permitted to proceed?" - -"Every man gets his chance. Every man must be permitted his opportunity -to excel as long as he does no irreparable harm." - -"His actions on Terra prior to being forced out were not beneficent or -benevolent." - -"There were no permanent scars," mused the Student. "As for his use of -the machine--it has done all Students good. Evidence to the effect that -the mind is limitless is valuable, Len Dor Vale." - -"But his is not the type that should use such a machine." - -"Agreed. One should have a purely theoretical mind before one uses the -machine. Otherwise the mind becomes agile and capacious with nothing -for it to do. A complete theorist cares nothing for reduction of theory -into practice; manipulation of ultra-theoretical concepts into solution -is the end-all for us, and the obtaining of impractical mathematics can -be handled in a super-energized mind without unbalance. - -"But Wan Nes Stan's philosophy includes violence where necessary, and -there will be violence. But not dangerous violence. No man can do -anything irreplaceably devastating." - -"Frankly," offered Len Dor Vale, "I feared that in taking his next step -he might take Planet One with him." - -"Unless he can control all of the Galactic minds there, he will not -cause change in any but himself. Have no fear, even for those within -his reach." - -"I thank you. I was worried." - -The Student nodded, and turned away from Len Dor Vale by a slight -amount. The Student's eyes closed part way as he immersed himself in -thought. As Len Dor Vale turned to go, the Student aroused himself -briefly--long enough to add: - -"Wan Nes Stan will take his next step and the Galaxy will be a better -place for it." - - * * * * * - -Wan Nes Stan shook his head with annoyance as the machine remained -mute. For three days he had been working on it with all of his -mind-capacity. In the empty crevasses of his capable mind, Wan Nes Stan -was packing enormous quantities of information and education gained on -the spot. With perfect memory, he stored the details away and reviewed -them with perfection before he tried another change in the circuits of -his machine. Sheer reasoning power had failed to solve his problem, -not even unreal mathematics served. There was no solution to the -problem of how to transfer knowledge from brain to brain. - -What is knowledge? he asked himself again and again. - -Knowledge is a matter of know-how. It is, in a sense, experience -whether original or vicarious. A schoolboy need not perform the -generation of calculus in order to study it; the myriad of false trails -have been weeded out. Thus schooling can pack a lifetime of learning -into a few short weeks by merely pointing the way instead of letting -the schoolboy follow all the red-herring trails that the original -thinker did. In semantics, the student is offered problems and if he -fails to solve them properly, he is immediately prevented from basing -other solutions on this false premise--pyramiding his illogic. - -So Wan Nes Stan answered himself. - -To trace the life-patterns of one brain onto another should not be -hard. Yet no theory would permit it. - -And a thought came to the governor-select. What is philosophy? - -Philosophy is a man's personal evaluation of data. - -Based upon what? - -Evaluation of data based upon experience and knowledge and reason. - -What is reason? - -The ability to extrapolate beyond present experience and knowledge so -as to apply the extrapolation correctly to a problem not yet filed in -the realm of experience. - -Then philosophy is to efficiently apply one's experience in evaluation -of data. - -And to apply it properly in guiding his actions. - -Suppose then, I gain another man's experience and knowledge? - -You will then reason like he did. - -And your philosophy will be his. - -Precisely. - -But the Galactics are doddering old fools! With the galaxy at the tips -of their fingers, they play games. An ounce of ambition in one of -them would put that one in the governor's seat. Yet they prate about -adaptability and aptitude and experience and juggle their figures, -consult their computing tables and select a man for each job. Has -ambition no place? - -Ambition is a factor. To not-want the governor's position would reduce -the aptitude factor. - - * * * * * - -Wan Nes Stan left the building where he lived and roamed idly through -the streets. Galactics walked in the afternoon sun oblivious to him. -Magnificent couples there were, walking through the trees that lined -each street, hand in hand, complete in their own exclusive world of -ecstasy. Others sat in self-satisfied contemplation of their problems -or presented argument to one another on points and theory. - -It was a quiet scene that Wan Nes Stan entered. Even argument seemed to -be pro-rated and measured in intensity. Of earnest self-belief there -was plenty, but on each evidence of self-conviction there was the soft -stamp of willingness to permit the other his own belief. There was no -scorn for a conflicting thought, but instead there was admiration for -the other party, who had mentality enough to entertain a concept--and -believe it--that was at variance with the philosophy of the first. - -A galaxy full of mild-mannered little rabbits! - -A decadent, sloppily-sentimental culture! - -A race of men so blind that they could not see what awaited them -once they achieved ambition--who were too busy lifting those below -to reach above and lift themselves. Lazily satisfied to advance with -the maddeningly-slow process of evolutionary development. What did it -matter if Terra received no help? - -A culture of missionary-minded altruists. - -Owners of the galaxy--and so mentally soft that any man could wrest it -from them single-handed. - -Any man. - -And yet he, Wan Nes Stan, who had the drive, the power, and the -capability was blocked. Blocked until he could spend five centuries in -service to gain the experience necessary. Five hundred years in the -second-place chair. Half a millennium of inactivity before he could -begin to take that which he should have now! - -Frustrated by a machine. Frustrated by a galaxy full of fools! - -"Fools!" he said aloud. No one heard him. - -"You, there. Fool!" - -"I?" asked the Galactic in surprise. - -"You are a fool!" - -"A concept I have often considered, but if you wish to belabor the -point, I'll be most glad to maintain a stout defense." - -"You are a fool!" - -"Resolved," said the Galactic, "that I am not. You, as affirm--" - -"Fool!" - -"But parroting is not presenting argum--" - -"Fool! You are a fool." - -"By what standard?" - -"By mine!" exploded Wan Nes Stan. "You are fools! All of you! You sit -there idly, watching the years pass, with all the universe before you, -and you do nothing!" - -"And you can show us the way?" asked the Galactic. "Might I ask your -philosophy, friend?" - -"I'm no friend to fools. Show you the way? That I can. I am the only -one among you that can show you the way--and you sit there and ignore -me. That is why you are fools!" - -"Show me and I'll follow," answered the Galactic. "Convince me and I'm -your man." - -"Bah! One logical, integrated mind in a veritable sea of moronic -reason," shouted Wan Nes Stan. "Blocked by ignorance from that -which should be mine. Forestalled from my rightful station by sheer -numbers--as all great minds are restricted by the blind, mindless, -unimaginative imbeciles about him. Blocked and barred from my rightful -future--" - -Wan Nes Stan leaped forward and snatched the Galactic's hand. He -reached forward and clutched the jeweled pin from the Galactic's lapel. -He struck the Galactic across the face and started to run from the -scene. - -Another glitter caught his eye and Wan Nes Stan leaped over to wrest a -luminous, jeweled timepiece from around the throat of a woman. - -"Give--" he screamed. - -And he clutched at a handbag and bore it away in his mad flight. - -"--or I take!" - -An ornate brooch came free in his hands with a long strip of -shimmering, diaphanous silk clinging to the pin. Her companion raced -after Wan Nes Stan to remonstrate for the insult, but the madman struck -him across the face. - -He snatched the ring from the fallen man's finger. - -And on he raced, through the bright afternoon sunlight, ever adding -to his pile of loot. Galactics clustered behind him, talking to one -another, in wondering, unbelieving tones. - -But Wan Nes Stan, his lust to strive for power denied him, retreated -within himself and substituted the childlike desire for glittering, -beckoning things of jewel and credit. Denied even the chance to steal -in this world where all was his for the asking, Wan Nes Stan returned -to his youth and snatched things that had once been of value to himself -and to those about him. - -Worthless baubles! - -But still he ran, clutching here and there and ever adding to his -collection of gaudy junk. - -And the final straw came when the Galactics, having no desire to be -jostled or beaten, lined the broad sidewalk and quietly unfastened -ornaments from jumper or dress or wrist or finger and held it out to -Wan Nes Stan as he ran by. - -"--I take!" he screamed, and then the scream became a whimper; they -took from him the last pleasure of forcing them to part with the -baubles and it broke him. - -He threw the baubles to the ground. One of the Galactics stooped and -scooped them into the handbag and offered it to him. - -"I take," he blubbered, and as he saw the proffered bag, his hysteria -broke and tears started from his eyes. His mouth pouted and he -blubbered and cried like a whipped child. Sobs, deep and lung-shaking -gripped his powerful frame and his utter lack of control extended to -his motor nerves and he slumped like a rag doll. - -Broken in spirit, Wan Nes Stan moved forward through the encircling -crowd and left them wondering. They did not follow. - -Tears streamed down his contorted face and his steps--laggard and -weak--were dotted with drops of moisture as he made his broken way to -his office. - -He entered wearily, and sat down. - -"Wan Nes Stan--megalomaniac!" he said bitterly. He turned at the sound -of a step and saw Len Dor Vale watching him. - -"Broken," he said. - -Len Dor Vale fixed the other man with a piercing gaze. "Sorry," he -said. "Quite sorry. But it can not be done that way, you know. The -whole proposition was your idea." - -"I know," said the other man. He inspected Len Dor Vale's large, -well-proportioned frame, his strong features, and his absolute poise -and wondered how any man, with all to recommend him, could be so -utterly unsympathetic. The coldness in his face set him apart from -one of the Galactic Ones. "The proposition was sensible enough, yet I -failed. Even though I failed, my manipulations were properly done, you -will agree." - -Len Dor Vale nodded. - -"Where did I fail?" - -"You struck a snag." - -"It was not my fault." - -"Are you crawling?" snapped Len Dor Vale. - -"Perhaps," said Wan Nes Stan bitterly. "I want to know how I failed." - -Len Dor Vale smiled deprecatorily. "Wan Nes Stan, you failed because -you neglected to take everything into account. Before you can -succeed--before you can hope to plan without failure, you must learn to -take everything into account." - -"One cannot take everything into account." - -"Yes, one can. It is quite possible--if you know how." - -"Everything's easy," said Wan Nes Stan sourly, "once you know how." - -"Certainly," laughed Len Dor Vale. - -"And because I made a mistake, I'm ruined." - -"Had you taken everything into account, you would have known that you -could never succeed. You wouldn't have started, and now you wouldn't be -a complete and broken failure." - -"You may well gloat." - -"I'm not gloating," objected Len Dor Vale. - -"I believe that," admitted Wan Nes Stan. "But that changes nothing." - -"You understand our position, Wan Nes Stan. If we prevented you from -trying; well, you might have succeeded, and we'd never know the -benefits of your success. It was your idea, and you wanted to try. But -don't feel too broken. Others have tried." - -"Small consolation. Knowing that another man is starving will not -put food in _my_ belly." Wan Nes Stan stood up, dusted his jacket -carefully, and left the office. - -The report of a pistol echoed and re-echoed up and down the corridor, -reverberating and hushing until it could be mistaken for a wild cackle -of laughter. - - - THE END. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FINE FEATHERS *** - -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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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Smith</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Fine Feathers</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: George O. Smith</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Illustrator: Kramer</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: June 1, 2022 [eBook #68218]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net.</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FINE FEATHERS ***</div> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>Fine Feathers</h1> - -<h2>By GEORGE O. SMITH</h2> - -<p>Illustrated by Kramer</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Astounding Science-Fiction, January 1946.<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><i>Ara, the crow, was aware of the fact that he was a crow. This and this -alone made him different from his fellow crows. Because he recognized -the fact, it made him aware of the things that separated the crows from -the pheasants that abounded across the meadow—and he admired their -fine plumage and elegant ways.</i></p> - -<p><i>He began to scorn the idea of being a crow, and resented the attitude -of his fellows. They were satisfied to be crows, and could not -understand his resentment nor his desires, and they even scorned the -idea that he was above them because he wanted to be other than a crow. -In fact, they did not even understand his concept of being anything -else. They did not look up to him for thinking over their heads.</i></p> - -<p><i>He should have left them and made his way alone. But he wanted to -show them how much more he was than they, and so he decked himself in -the plumage of one of the pheasants and then started to lord it over -the rest of the crows....</i></p> - -<p class="ph2">—<i>ÆSOP</i></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Wanniston fixed the other man with a piercing gaze. "Sorry," he said. -"Quite sorry. But it can not be done that way, you know. The whole -proposition was your idea."</p> - -<p>"I know," said the other man. He inspected Wanniston's large, -well-proportioned frame, his strong features, and his absolute poise -and wondered how any man, with all to recommend him, could be so -utterly unsympathetic. The coldness in his face set him apart from -one of the Galactic Ones. "The proposition was sensible enough—yet I -failed. Even though I failed, my manipulations were properly done, you -will agree."</p> - -<p>Wanniston nodded.</p> - -<p>"Where did I fail?"</p> - -<p>"You struck a snag."</p> - -<p>"It was not my fault."</p> - -<p>"Are you crawling?" snapped Wanniston.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps," said the other man bitterly. "I want to know how I failed."</p> - -<p>Wanniston smiled deprecatorily. "Lincoln, you failed because you -neglected to take everything into account. Before you succeed—before -you can hope to plan without failure, you must learn to take everything -into account."</p> - -<p>"One cannot take everything into account."</p> - -<p>"Yes, one can. It is quite possible—if you know how."</p> - -<p>"Everything's easy," said Lincoln sourly, "once you know how."</p> - -<p>"Certainly," laughed Wanniston.</p> - -<p>"And because I made a mistake, I failed."</p> - -<p>"Had you taken everything into account, you would have known that you -could never succeed. You wouldn't have started, and now you wouldn't be -a complete and broken failure."</p> - -<p>"You may well gloat."</p> - -<p>"I'm not gloating."</p> - -<p>"I believe that," admitted Lincoln. "But that changes nothing."</p> - -<p>"You understand our position, Lincoln. If we prevented you from trying, -well, you might have succeeded, and we'd never know the benefits of -your success. It was your idea, and you wanted to try. But don't feel -too broken. Others have tried."</p> - -<p>"Small consolation. Knowing that another man is starving will not put -food in my <i>belly</i>." Lincoln stood up, dusted off his jacket, and left -the office.</p> - -<p>The report of a pistol echoed and re-echoed up and down the corridor, -reverberating and hushing until it could be mistaken for a wild cackle -of laughter.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Wanniston went into the small office beside his own, through an -interconnecting door. The key to the outer door hung in the lock by the -tongue, and the office was a sharp contrast to his spotless business -office. Here was no clean desk, no bookcase bulging with erudition, -no deep-pile carpet. Instead, the place was a litter of complicated -equipment. Not messy, in the dirty sense of the word, but the standard -neglect of any laboratory. Delicate instruments stood on the floor, -a box was partly filled with discarded parts, and several pieces of -partly disassembled apparatus lined the walls. On the desk, which was -the cleanest spot in the room, there stood a small cabinet. It was not -the precisely finished cabinet that comes with commercial equipment, -but strictly functional. There was no pattern to the dials—at least -there had been no attempt to arrange the controls in sensible pattern. -They stuck out wherever they were needed—and the sides and top each -had a knob or two.</p> - -<p>Wanniston slid the headpiece over his temples and snapped the main -switch. A split-second timer kicked in for less than one-tenth of a -second, waited for ten seconds, and then repeated the dose. Four times -it followed the sequence of keying the machine for a period of less -than a tenth of a second, following with a ten-second pause. Finally it -gave Wanniston a full one-second charge and then ceased.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>The financier removed the temple set and sat thinking for a moment. -There was a bit of resentment at the machine—not resentment, exactly, -but a slight feeling of annoyance that he must take such microscopic -doses of the machine.</p> - -<p>He knew the story of Andrew Tremaine and how the publisher's attempts -to use the machine had resulted in self-destruction because it had -been too good. But, smiled Wanniston, he really had no intention of -trying to lift the whole race to the level of the Ambassador of the -Galactic Ones, the emissary Gerd Lel Rayne. Rayne had told him.</p> - -<p>Not the complete story, of course. Rayne could never tell that. Nor if -he did, Wanniston could not have understood it. But he did know that -Tremaine had developed such a machine and had energized his mind with -disastrous results.</p> - -<p>Obviously, Tremaine could not have gone on living after that. Tremaine -was pretty much of an extrovert who loved people and wanted them all -to advance rapidly. Wanniston was self-centered and introverted and -wanted nothing more than to run the show himself. Tremaine could not -live in a world alone—and with his energized brain, he was in a world -alone. Gerd Lel Rayne could be his only friend, he and Gaya, and their -friendship must necessarily be one kept under cover. But Wanniston -could, did, and liked a world alone. He had no intention of letting the -world know.</p> - -<p>That would be disastrous.</p> - -<p>The world would rush to the machine, to partake of its offerings, in -order to gain the benefit of the increased intelligence. They would not -count the cost—and the cost was great.</p> - -<p>The machine produced sterility.</p> - -<p>So much for general usage.</p> - -<p>But for individual usage? That was another matter. He would use it for -himself alone and forget progeny. Wanniston wanted to run the show. -He felt entitled to have a hand in it, for he knew that he was better -equipped, mentally, to handle the complex problems of running the world -than many others. He was aware of man's weaknesses. They were all glad -to be just human, but it took a higher intellect to understand that -there was something better than just being human.</p> - -<p>Wanniston knew that, and Wanniston was going to do something about it. -Wanniston, by knowing that there was something higher, and by being -just that slight bit higher himself, was going to go all the way and -make himself Gerd Lel Rayne's mental equal. He believed that he might -even surpass the 260-odd I.Q. possessed by the emissary of the Galactic -Ones, for he knew that Rayne was merely the lowest link in a long chain -that led right up to the Grand Galactic Council.</p> - -<p>"Wait until you see me kid brudder," grinned Wanniston. His lips were -thin as he grinned, and there was more sardonicism than genuine humor -in the situation.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Gerd Lel Rayne smiled amicably as Wanniston entered. "Good morning," -he said with a booming, easy voice. The emissary was a large man, a -living embodiment of poise and good will. "I sent for you, John. You're -heading for trouble."</p> - -<p>"It's my trouble," answered Wanniston.</p> - -<p>Rayne shook his massive head slowly. "Not entirely. I'm concerned."</p> - -<p>"It's my trouble and, if it blows up in my face, it's my grief."</p> - -<p>Again there came that shake of the head. "No, Wanniston, you cannot -shake yourself loose like that. You are not alone. I failed my -superiors when I told you the tale of Andy Tremaine. I thought that -the knowledge of what had happened to another who tried the same thing -would deter you. Remember?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I remember. I asked you why it wouldn't be possible to energize -the human brain so that it could use the whole thing instead of the -usual ten percent. You countered with the yarn about Tremaine."</p> - -<p>"Time alone will fill the brain, John. No machine will do it properly. -It is forced."</p> - -<p>"So?"</p> - -<p>"John, you have been using a modification of Tremaine's gadget on -yourself. I can only say that you are ambitious to the foolhardy stage. -No good will come of it."</p> - -<p>"Where is the danger? I care nothing for sterility. I only hope to -become as intelligent as you are."</p> - -<p>"If that were all," smiled Gerd, "I would look the other way. But -again—I could not. For I am responsible for every Terran in the eyes -of my superiors. I must try to protect even those who attempt mental -suicide. Along that line lies oblivion, Wanniston."</p> - -<p>"You do all right," snapped the financier.</p> - -<p>"I," smiled Gerd Lel Rayne, "was ... born to this. I used nothing to -enhance my ... native intellect."</p> - -<p>"What's wrong with it, though? I can do without progeny."</p> - -<p>"Civilization can not."</p> - -<p>"Civilization will know nothing—"</p> - -<p>"They will find out. I regret that I tried to dissuade you. In showing -you the error of continuing this line of research, I gave you the hint -that opened the corridor to you. That was a mistake.</p> - -<p>"Be that as it may," continued Gerd, "I must now try to show you more -of the future. You are slowly gaining in power, Wanniston, and you will -eventually become the most hated man on Terra."</p> - -<p>"A shame, I'm sure," snorted Wanniston.</p> - -<p>"That attitude will cause you grief," admonished Gerd Lel Rayne. "You -should use power wisely, not use it in sharpering your associates out -of their rights."</p> - -<p>"I've never cheated—"</p> - -<p>"Not legally. But is it right for a man to set up traps? Is it good and -moral for one of your present mental ability to figure the tertiary -causes and effects and apply them to time limits? Not only do you make -profit, Wanniston, but you set up your contracts so that you inevitably -get forfeit-money as well. You think deeper and plan better—"</p> - -<p>"And to the winner goes the spoils," laughed Wanniston. "I should lower -myself to their level for the sake of helping them? Not I, Gerd Lel -Rayne. I am your equal, and you know it."</p> - -<p>"I know it. Yet I am not overly avaricious. I am comfortable, doing my -job as best I can. I am unique, perhaps, but I do that which I am best -fitted for, and I am helping civilization."</p> - -<p>Wanniston smiled. "Tremaine wanted galactic power for Terra. Tremaine -wanted the ultimate for mankind. He was a complete altruist, I believe. -He wanted to raise the whole world to your level."</p> - -<p>"An admirable idea, lacking in certain phases of which he could know -nothing. Certain phases, Wanniston, of which you are equally ignorant!"</p> - -<p>"I shall find out. I shall, if necessary, surpass you, Gerd."</p> - -<p>"Quite possible," smiled the emissary. "Quite possible. The capacity of -the brain is almost limitless. My race uses more than yours, Wanniston. -Eventually we will fill ours more and more as the centuries pass. But -remember that we are as much on the way up as your race is. No one -should move too fast."</p> - -<p>"Why?"</p> - -<p>"Because, that way leads to—oblivion."</p> - -<p>"Again, why?"</p> - -<p>"Nature has her safeguards. She knows the dangers of becoming too wise -too soon. Therefore she causes sterility. Strange thing, Wanniston, -but there is absolutely no way in which to energize the brain without -it. One must permit evolution to take its course. One must hope that -his song will have greater native intelligence. Look, Wanniston. -Your father, when a boy, played with toys of a technical nature not -even known ten centuries before. You as a boy scorned making your -construction toy operate as a prime mover, with anything so archaic as -an atomic converter. You demanded the prime, the ultimate; the Solar -Phoenix in miniature. Nowadays, the kids insist upon using miniature -directive-generators.</p> - -<p>"Directive power," continued Gerd, "is the daily work. Years ago it -took men most of their lives to study it, today the kids play with it -in toys. Tomorrow—perhaps one of your race will discover interstellar -power—Galactic Power—and your sons and grandsons will demand minute -galactic generators to run their gadgets. Ten centuries ago, children -were toying with electricity—today they are playing with directives. -That, Wanniston, is wisdom gained in the proper way."</p> - -<p>"And what should I do?"</p> - -<p>"Instead of using your power to gain the world, you might use that -intellect to better mankind." Gerd stretched and stood up. "But you -will not," he finished. "Your type will not."</p> - -<p>"No, I will not."</p> - -<p>Gerd led Wanniston to the door, and courteously showed him out. "I hope -to see you again," he said honestly. Wanniston nodded; the financier -understood. Despite a difference in attitude between the emissary and -himself, he knew that having another with an equal intelligence was -desirable. Wanniston did not require it, but the emissary was a friend -to all, an extrovert, and required friendship.</p> - -<p>Wanniston would return. Gerd Lel Rayne was covering something. There -was more to Gerd Lel Rayne than met the eye, and he knew it. He -understood, with Gerd, all that Gerd said regarding help for Terra in -scientific matters. Rayne could advise, could occasionally point out -minor errors or make suggestions, but could not openly state facts. -Well, Wanniston wanted to know the secret. He'd be back.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Gaya Lel Rayne entered the room and caught her husband's mental -distress, slight as it was. She came over beside him and added to -the impact of her presence with him the powerful attraction of her. -Gerd put a hand on her shoulder and they flowed together momentarily. -Powerful were their minds, and powerful was the feeling between them; -no Terran could have entertained a bitter thought within several -hundred feet of their embrace.</p> - -<p>"What is it, Gerd?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"Wanniston."</p> - -<p>"Still trying?"</p> - -<p>"Succeeded."</p> - -<p>"Dangerous." It was a statement, not a question.</p> - -<p>"Yes—and no," replied Gerd. "He will not willingly pass on his illegal -knowledge. Terra would skin him alive if they knew that he was -extracting their resources by foul means. Wanniston, on the other hand, -knows that he could drag the temple down over all of Terra by merely -announcing the machine."</p> - -<p>"But isn't sterility enough of a deterrent?" asked Gaya.</p> - -<p>"I don't know. Look, Gaya. Those who cared nothing for the future would -indulge in mental energizing. They would outstrip those who cared -for the future; those with the proper attitude would become slaves, -practically. Within a century, every worthwhile thing would be in the -hands of those who cared nothing for progeny."</p> - -<p>"There is a saving factor," objected Gaya. "The new ones would come -from the ranks of those who cared—"</p> - -<p>"Of course," laughed Gerd. "But the optimistic philosophy of the Terran -would die. One could take his choice. Either he has children or he fits -in with those who have forsaken the future."</p> - -<p>Gerd dropped his glance and worried visibly for a moment. "It is a -gloomy philosophy, Gaya. Slavery or sterility. No future either way. -Depressive philosophy—which would lead to planetary suicide."</p> - -<p>"Couldn't one have children first and try the machine afterwards?" -asked Gaya brightly.</p> - -<p>"Uh-huh—but why? Those who wait will be behind those who did not. Of -course there will be a place for all, just as there is now. I fear -that the race would die out anyway, Gaya. The machine can not be -circumvented; its effects may not be counteracted once it is used. -Schoolboys and schoolgirls would try it once, throwing away their -futures with the youthful willingness to take chances. They would stand -above the others in their classes—until their fellows tried it. Forbid -it? Like sin, Gaya, you can legislate against it but you can not make -it unpopular. Ban it and you will have its effects smuggled in to the -youth of Terra—who will try it if only because their folks forbid it. -They will see the effects. They will see their parents in slavery.... -Slavery, Gaya, entered into willingly—for the children themselves!"</p> - -<p>He faced Gaya with a powerful gesture. "The children will see it. They -will decide that slavery is no compensation for parenthood. Why waste -time? Why sit in slavery for years while you indulge in the duty of -bearing children, and then go to take up the job of making a financial -start? No, once this is released, Terra may die."</p> - -<p>"Destroy him—and his machine."</p> - -<p>Gerd shook his head. "That I can no longer do," he said sadly. "He is -our equal now. Tomorrow he will be our superiors, by a minute bit. Yet -today he is powerful enough of mind to tell by my actions that I intend -to destroy him. I can not—for once I try, I will lose, the Galactic -Ones will lose, and Terra will lose. I can call for no help from Terra. -I can ask the field representative when he arrives. I might even call -for help—"</p> - -<p>"It would be justified," said Gaya, earnestly.</p> - -<p>"I have done nothing yet. I should try—"</p> - -<p>"Try what?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know."</p> - -<p>Gaya nodded. "Call Yord Tan Verde. He will understand."</p> - -<p>Into the penthouse went Gerd and Gaya, to call the field representative -of the Galactic Ones. Verde answered at length, and listened to the -entire story. He asked a number of questions that Gerd thought to have -no connection, but Gerd answered. Then Yord Tan Verde laughed a bit and -told Gerd Lel Rayne not to worry.</p> - -<p>It was very unsatisfactory.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Will Conan stood up and faced the others at the table. "I won't kill -myself," he shouted, banging his fist on the table. "I'll kill him -first!"</p> - -<p>"I tried that," remarked a tall man at the other end of the table.</p> - -<p>Conan smiled wryly. "Peter Wilks tried it, all right," he told the -rest. "Tell us what happened, Pete."</p> - -<p>"I tried four times. Each time he stopped me in a bold way that seemed -to be effortless. It was as though he knew—"</p> - -<p>"Well, what else can we do? Can we ignore him?"</p> - -<p>"Why not?"</p> - -<p>"Is there a man here that does not have his finger in your business?"</p> - -<p>Seventeen men shook their heads.</p> - -<p>"Is there a man among us that has one microscopic shred of evidence to -the fact that Wanniston is dishonest?"</p> - -<p>There was not.</p> - -<p>"O.K.—so how do we go about it?"</p> - -<p>No one knew.</p> - -<p>Conan sat down. "We can't squeeze him out, is that it?"</p> - -<p>"We can not do anything at all," snarled another man. "No matter what -we try, he betters us. He's a sharper. If we try something legal, he's -our better. If we get dirty, he cleans us anyway—but the devil does it -legally. You can't win."</p> - -<p>"There were once twenty-three of us," said Peter Wilks. "Three are -in jail—for crimes they did not commit. One is in jail for a crime -that he did commit, the crime of trying to frame Wanniston. Two are -dead—suicides because they could no longer take defeat after defeat at -Wanniston's fine Machiavellian hand. He's a menace."</p> - -<p>"We're like the mice that decided to hang a bell on the cat," laughed -Conan bitterly. "Six of us have tried and failed. Must we try -separately? Can he read minds?"</p> - -<p>Wilks jumped to his feet. "I say he can!"</p> - -<p>"Then he's more than a menace. He's a devil!"</p> - -<p>"So what? We've appealed to Gerd Lel Rayne. And what did he say? -He said that we should hang tight because Wanniston was headed for -trouble."</p> - -<p>"Do we wait until we are all dead before it happens?" snapped Wilks.</p> - -<p>"I'm no prophet," growled Conan. "I know this. We're licked. Or is this -any good. Can we run him out?"</p> - -<p>"How?"</p> - -<p>"Superman he may be. Superior to even Gerd Lel Rayne—Sorry, Lel -Rayne," he said, seeing the emissary as Gerd opened the door. "You -heard?"</p> - -<p>Gerd nodded pleasantly. "Wanniston's intellect has increased. A fatal -illness. He does not recognize it, nor would he believe it if he -were told. Yet it is so; Wanniston's illness has caused an increase -in the acuity of the brain, a definite increase in the intelligence -quotient. He is quite capable of out-thinking any of you—of us, pardon -me. I feel no self-reproach, though. I," and Gerd Lel Rayne laughed -heartily—too heartily, though the Terrans did not know it, "have known -men of my race who were superior to me, and have no animosity as long -as I am well fitted to my position, and can do my job well, better than -many others. I may not advance above my present level, yet I can be -emissary to Terra where the bulk of my race would find it against their -liking."</p> - -<p>"Well, suppose you tell us what to do?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know," admitted Gerd. "Isolate him. Can you do that?"</p> - -<p>"No. He has a finger in every man's business here. We can do nothing -unless he is permitted to pass on it. Furthermore, he will find it out -in time to circumvent us if we try to operate without his approval. We -do that and we land in jail, our life's ambitions stripped from us and -dropped into his hands like a ripe plum."</p> - -<p>"I know," said Gerd. "I know."</p> - -<p>"He's your mental superior too?" asked Wilks uncertainly.</p> - -<p>Gerd nodded. "I can try, though. My mental superior he may be, but I am -possessed of the knowledge of certain arts of which he knows nothing. -That is the heritage of my race: the things I played with as a child. I -still ... occasionally ... like to play—"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Wanniston entered the basement workshop of Gerd Lel Rayne and watched -while the emissary made adjustments on a bit of complex apparatus.</p> - -<p>"Tricky gadget," said Wanniston.</p> - -<p>"It is that."</p> - -<p>"Energy collector—director, converter," said Wanniston. "You're about -to release the secret of galactic power?"</p> - -<p>"No, I was just tinkering," said Gerd. "I have no intention of telling -Terra about it."</p> - -<p>"I know about it now."</p> - -<p>"You'd tell them?"</p> - -<p>"You know better than that."</p> - -<p>"Well?"</p> - -<p>Wanniston grinned.</p> - -<p>And then before he could say more, Gaya came to the workshop room -with a group of policemen. "Gerd," she said, "they want to speak to -Wanniston."</p> - -<p>"Come ahead," called the financier.</p> - -<p>"John Wanniston, I arrest you for the crime of murder. I warn you that -any statements will be considered evidence."</p> - -<p>"Murder? Me? Utterly fantastic!"</p> - -<p>The police lieutenant smiled quietly. "We'll have to ask you to come -with us."</p> - -<p>"I've murdered who?"</p> - -<p>"You'll find out. I may say nothing."</p> - -<p>"I've murdered no one!"</p> - -<p>"That is for the State to decide—the State and a jury of twelve good -men and true."</p> - -<p>"Judged by those who hate me? Why should I go?"</p> - -<p>"Wanniston, you're a smart man. You must certainly know the implication -of any rash move."</p> - -<p>"But I'm innocent. Gerd—?"</p> - -<p>"I can do nothing. If this is false, you can prove it simply enough. -If it is true ... but why should it be true? You are a smart man, -Wanniston. You can get anything you want without murder. That should -be considered. I'll help, Wanniston, but remember, as emissary of the -Galactic Ones, I must not interfere."</p> - -<p>"Removed like a common criminal. I warn you, Lieutenant Alfred, that -this is utterly false and I shall have compensation. I am both capable -and willing to make you and all others pay for this outrage."</p> - -<p>"You'll submit to a lie-detector test?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly. I'll take it. I have committed no crime. I have murdered no -one!"</p> - -<p>Wanniston looked at Gerd Lel Rayne. Gerd shrugged. Wanniston's -intellect was most certainly capable of telling the lie detector a -lie and making the insensate machine believe it true. Gerd knew that -Wanniston knew that—and Wanniston knew that Gerd knew it also. But -Gerd was intelligent enough to know that Wanniston was smart enough to -avoid murder or running afoul of any man-made law. Any killing would -have come up immediately, and the evidence would be natural and honesty -a matter of self-defense.</p> - -<p>Wanniston was no fool.</p> - -<p>They brought in the lie detector and Wanniston slipped the headset on, -and grasped the handles.</p> - -<p>The lieutenant said: "John Wanniston, did you murder Peter Wilks?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Wanniston started. <i>Wilks!</i></p> - -<p>The magnitude of the plot amazed him. It was as nasty a frame as -he could imagine. He knew that it would be as air-tight as the -machinations of sixteen men could make it—and he wondered whether -the operations of seventeen men might not be more like the truth. -Wilks was ruined; had little to live for and knew it. He—and the -rest—a sacrifice was not too unquestionable. Their crime—justified -by themselves in the thought that better it be one of them than all of -them.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus4.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Under suspicion himself, any moves he made would be viewed with -distrust by the human race, who had cause to know him as the most hated -man on earth. Any jury, hearing of his legal trickery, knowing and -hearing the account of his masterful moves in business, which gained -him fortune upon fortune as other men fell under his steam-roller -tactics.</p> - -<p>Any jury.</p> - -<p>It was their crime. Yes.</p> - -<p>But if, as, and when the truth came out truth? That was another angle -and Wanniston cursed himself for not thinking with all of his 375 I.Q. -The sixteen did not do it. Wilks must have framed murder out of suicide.</p> - -<p>Without letting any of the others know!</p> - -<p>For the lie detector would be used on each witness.</p> - -<p>Even Gerd.</p> - -<p>For he had been apprehended in Gerd Lel Rayne's home.</p> - -<p>And Gerd would be asked the standard questions. Foolish, they were; -utterly and stupidly foolish. They asked your name; they asked the -identity of the suspected one; and—</p> - -<p><i>They asked if the suspected one might be able to outwit a lie -detector.</i></p> - -<p>And Gerd Lel Rayne's answer would be a ringing, clear, and damning -"Yes!"</p> - -<p>This, which takes time to record; to read, passed through Wanniston's -mind in no flash of staccato continuity, but as a pattern-plan. It was -like thinking of a scotch plaid, or a linoleum pattern to the ordinary -mortal; it came instantaneously to the energized intellect of John -Wanniston, and he knew the whole futile thing from upper left to lower -right before Lieutenant Alfred's voice had ceased to echo through Gerd -Lel Rayne's workshop.</p> - -<p>He was framed.</p> - -<p>He was IT.</p> - -<p>And as nicely a nasty bit of connivery as ever hit the sight.</p> - -<p>HE was IT.</p> - -<p>Wanniston moved with rattlesnake swiftness. He hit the light cord, -pulled and twisted. A splurt of sparks came with blackness and -Wanniston faded back and down to run, stooped, across the workshop -floor avoiding the clutter of machinery and furniture by the faculty of -eidetic memory.</p> - -<p>By sensitivity of mind, he knew where Gerd Lel Rayne kept his -spacecraft, and he went there immediately. A <i>whoosh!</i> of passing air -and Wanniston was in the stratosphere, free and away. He dropped back -again a few minutes later to his office where he bundled his mind -machine into the spacecraft before he left Terra forever.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Terra.</p> - -<p>A planetful of fools. They did not respect his superior intellect. They -did not even admit it. They hated him for being able to get that which -they could not get, and they resented the fact that he was capable of -doing it to their misfortune. They gambled with him—and when they -lost, they welshed, like stinking cry-babies.</p> - -<p>But Wanniston was smart. He knew where he'd be appreciated. In the -galaxy were men of intellect that would welcome him. Give him another -month at the machine.</p> - -<p>Gerd Lel Rayne. Now he knew the truth about Gerd. Emissary! Magnificent -creature; supergenius!</p> - -<p>Bah! One whose intellect was moronic compared to the Galactic Ones. -One who had been placed on Terra because only a moron could be -understood by Terrans. The Galactic Ones could understand Terrans -after much painful, wearisome prodding and waiting while the Terrans, -idiotlike, stumbled through their clumsy sentence structure. But no -Terran could understand the pattern-plan of quadruple-ideas that passed -from Galactic One to Galactic One—or even the most careful effort of -the Galactic One to be patient and redundantly explicit when and if -speaking to a Terran. That is why the inbetween—Gerd Lel Rayne.</p> - -<p>Well, Wanniston was far superior to Gerd Lel Rayne, and another month -would see him equal to any of the Galactic Ones.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Far, long light-years across the galaxy, Wanniston loafed along, taking -accelerated treatments and seeking, idly, one of the main planets of -the Galactic Ones. He found one, finally, and slid into the spaceport -with all the boldness of a sector governor.</p> - -<p>He decided to brazen it out—obviously the ship would be registered and -his lack of license papers might be questioned. So he opened the space -lock and stepped to the ground to face one of the attendants.</p> - -<p>The attendant nodded and waved hands to an approaching crew. They -nodded at Wanniston, too, and then swarmed through the ship, servicing -it. Before Wanniston was at the registry office, the ship was lifted -and slid over to the row upon row of parked spacecraft. Wanniston noted -its position and then entered the register.</p> - -<p>"Name?" asked the official.</p> - -<p>"Wan Nes Stan," said he, putting the Galactic pronunciation to his own -name.</p> - -<p>"You have the ship formerly registered with Emissary Gerd Lel Rayne. -Has he another?"</p> - -<p>Wan Nes Stan was stopped momentarily, but his plan to brazen it out -laid another pathway. "Not that I know of," he said.</p> - -<p>"I'll see that another is delivered to him. You'll not be returning -that way?"</p> - -<p>"If I do," said Wan Nes Stan boldly, "I shall go in the way I got there -before."</p> - -<p>"Naturally."</p> - -<p>Wan Nes Stan almost gulped visibly. He wondered for a moment whether -the Galactic was having sport at his expense, or being sarcastic, or -whether he was completely taken in by the boldness.</p> - -<p>Wan Nes Stan entered his first Galactic city. To any Terran, it would -have been nonunderstandable in scope, but to Wan Nes Stan it was -beautiful as it should be, and yet not perfect. Color combinations -were there beyond the concept of any Terran, all blended in a mad, -ever-moving kaleidoscope of sheer symphony. Faint, stirring music -emanated from everywhere—there seemed to be no focal point—and the -blend of music with color matched exactly. Either would have been -unfinished without the other, and both would have been incomplete -without the senses of smell, taste, and feel that were excited ever so -delicately.</p> - -<p>There was no sign of the bustle and hustle of a mighty city. The -indolent and the loafer all moved in a precision pattern that gave the -impression of smooth machinery that wasted no motion in accomplishing -its end.</p> - -<p>Its end?</p> - -<p>What could any such perfection need with an end? Was this not the end?</p> - -<p>No, Wan Nes Stan knew that this was not the end. This was not -perfection, any more than any Terran city was the ultimate in combined -beauty and utility. This was not the least of the Galactic cities, nor -was it the best. It—was average.</p> - -<p>This was home.</p> - -<p>He no longer looked down upon the crawling, struggling race of -creatures that called themselves <i>homo sapiens</i> any more than any -Terran looked derisively at a dog. They knew the dog's place in the -scheme of things and Wan Nes Stan and the rest of the Galactic Ones -knew homo sap's place. There was no scorn in his mind now. The fact -that he had once aspired to rule Terra did not appear to him to be a -lowly ambition; Wan Nes Stan knew that it was a laudable ambition at -one time in his rise—</p> - -<p>"... <i>When he became of age he put away childish things.</i>"</p> - -<p>Wan Nes Stan checked into a hotel, using his assumed name. It was -accepted without question, which pleased him greatly since he had need -of procuring some Galactic currency so that he could pay bills. It gave -him a place to stay until he could swing a deal, make a move, or steal -a pocketfull of whatever the Galactic Ones used for money.</p> - -<p>Assuming that the Galactic Ones were running their hotels in a manner -similar to Terran establishments, Wan Nes Stan ordered newspapers, a -library list, and dinner. Ordering these, he found, was to his liking. -There was complete rapport. The steak he ordered by projecting it as -a whole, giving the waiter a complete mental impression from sight to -texture. It was superb, just as he had pictured.</p> - -<p>Then he addressed himself to the papers.</p> - -<p>There was no price listed on the paper. He looked. He'd hoped to -establish the parity value of a newspaper for price-scaling.</p> - -<p>He sought the financial section. There was none. There were sports, -news items that interested him not one bit because not one of them -pertained to the robbery of anything—the latter would have given him -an initial idea of the value of things.</p> - -<p>The newspaper was thin and uninteresting. A society column listed the -comings and goings of people and their associations. He found among -the new arrivals column a notation of his own arrival—sketchy and -uninformative—in Gerd Lel Rayne's ship; and a statement to the effect -that Wan Nes Stan might be able to give some information as to the -struggle of Terra in their advancement to the Galactic state.</p> - -<p>The latter was too close to home for Wan Nes Stan. It sounded a little -as though he might be known; that his masquerade was understood.</p> - -<p>It was.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A knock came at the door an hour later, and as Wan Nes Stan opened the -door, the Galactic who stood there smiled and said: "Wan Nes Stan? -Formerly Terran of Terra?"</p> - -<p>"I ... must admit it."</p> - -<p>"Think nothing of it," replied the Galactic affably. "I am Len Dor -Vale, sector overseer."</p> - -<p>"My masquerade is known?"</p> - -<p>The Galactic laughed. "Known and appreciated. Look, my friend, when the -substitute becomes as efficient as the real thing, we no longer look -down upon it. You are no longer a Terran, you are as much a Galactic -One as the rest of us."</p> - -<p>"I am?"</p> - -<p>"Aren't you?"</p> - -<p>Wan Nes Stan swallowed. "I've considered myself so."</p> - -<p>"We don't object."</p> - -<p>"I thought you might consider me presumptive—"</p> - -<p>"Not in the least!" boomed Len Dor Vale.</p> - -<p>"That makes it easier," said Wan Nes Stan.</p> - -<p>"Trying to conceal your real identity is both impossible and -ridiculous," laughed Len Dor Vale. "Now, Wan Nes Stan, how will you -spend your Galactic life?"</p> - -<p>"First, how long have I to live?"</p> - -<p>"Your super-intellect will, of course, cause subconscious repair of -your body. I'd say another six or seven hundred years. You understand, -of course, that not being born one of us has cut your life expectancy. -That is too bad. But—" and the overseer dismissed the subject with a -wave and a shrug.</p> - -<p>"I've been a business executive most of my life."</p> - -<p>"You may have trouble doing anything of that nature here," said Len -Dor Vale with a sad shake of his head. "We are not a competitive race, -we Galactic Ones. I might suggest that you try the main line here; -overseeing the myriad of uninformed planets comprises the major portion -of our lives."</p> - -<p>"That seems not too productive."</p> - -<p>"No? We have all we need. Anything you want is supplied, you will -find. Our philosophy is settled and stable; we are luckily the highest -order of intelligence in this galaxy—and that fact we know. In other -galaxies near by, we have found no race to compare with us. There -are rising races in all of them, but our prime job is to bring about -the completeness of this, the First Galaxy before we struggle with -the rest. Our job, Wan Nes Stan, is to co-relate and to advise. Our -compensation is the fulfillment of our every desire. We—must carry the -burden of all intelligence. We are repaid by those races just below us -who are enlightened enough to know what we are doing and who appreciate -it.</p> - -<p>"Terra is not yet one of these, but another Galactic year and they will -be. Our plan is endless, Wan Nes Stan, a project that only we, the -Galactics can appreciate in its entirety. You understand the magnitude -of any plan of steering a galaxy of races into the full realization -of their destiny—and then spreading out through the universe to the -countless other galaxies to do likewise.</p> - -<p>"The end-product? Yes, you will, as one of us, be able to appreciate -this, too. We are still rising, ourselves. We do not know what we -may be in another million galactic years—but we do know it will be -interesting, and our regret is that we cannot live to see it. Yet our -children may, and for them we must plan."</p> - -<p>Wan Nes Stan nodded. Certain things penetrated deep during the speech; -they rang home with response greater than others; a natural thing. But -the one thing that flared in his mind was the statement:</p> - -<p><i>We are not a competitive race.</i></p> - -<p>Wan Nes Stan could and would go far in a culture like this.</p> - -<p>"I want to know; how much training is necessary to join the ranks of -your governmental service?"</p> - -<p>"About a week will suffice. You will then be given an overseer's -position. Perhaps you might enjoy being overseer in the sector that -includes Sol."</p> - -<p>Wan Nes Stan shook his head. "A prophet is not without honor save in -his own country," he said.</p> - -<p>He considered the idea of overseer's position and scorned it. He'd -continue to use the mind machine.</p> - -<p><i>They were still rising.</i></p> - -<p>He could and would rise too. He would rise above them, he could and -would become the high governor of all the great widespread race of -Galactics. With intelligence above them, he could and would direct them -wisely and well, and though none would live to carry his name onward, -the name of Wan Nes Stan would go ringing down the halls of time.</p> - -<p>But Wan Nes Stan cared little for the halls of time, really. He wanted -a present, not a future. That his name might appear as a beacon to -uncounted numbers of yet unborn Galactics was attractive; his basic -purpose was still to enjoy the power and the glory that would be his.</p> - -<p>He wanted the sensuous thrill of having the power that would place him -among those whose names still ring though eons have passed.</p> - -<p>He began to plan craftily.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Len Dor Vale, have I your backing?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"In two days you have proved yourself most able," agreed Vale.</p> - -<p>"I have your backing."</p> - -<p>"Need you receive it in words?" puzzled Len Dor Vale. "Must you have -acclaim thrust upon you?"</p> - -<p>Wan Nes Stan smiled in self-depreciation. "I want you to help me," he -said quietly.</p> - -<p>Len Dor Vale nodded. "What have you in mind?"</p> - -<p>"I want your help in securing me a grand overseer's position."</p> - -<p>"We'll see. It might be done."</p> - -<p>"Who must we convince?"</p> - -<p>"Convince? Only the aptitude machine."</p> - -<p>"A machine?" asked Wan Nes Stan.</p> - -<p>"Certainly. You are rated on your ability alone, and the aptitude -machine has been devised to best select those with the greatest -aptitude."</p> - -<p>"I see."</p> - -<p>Wan Nes Stan said no more. He spent more time in his mind machine, -and he took increased and accelerated doses, checking each time to -the maximum. He knew his machine to the last decimal place, and in -six-hour-periods, Wan Nes Stan energized his brain; increasing its -capacity by mighty leaps and bounds.</p> - -<p>He took his aptitude test, then, and the result caused mild wonder. His -name was bandied back and forth across the galaxy, and he was requested -to appear at the great Grand Council of the Galactics.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>"Len Dor Vale, what is the real meaning behind this request?" asked Wan -Nes Stan, as the message was handed to him.</p> - -<p>"You do not know?" laughed the overseer.</p> - -<p>"Frankly, no. I suspect—but again I presume."</p> - -<p>"Not at all. No man presumes when his statements and beliefs are fact."</p> - -<p>"I have surpassed the tests required for this sector?"</p> - -<p>"You have surpassed all tests," smiled Len Dor Vale.</p> - -<p>"All tests?"</p> - -<p>"All tests. You are to be installed into the office of the Galactic -Governor."</p> - -<p>"Galactic Governor?" gloated Wan Nes Stan.</p> - -<p>"Oh no. Aptitude is not all. Your aptitude is the highest in our -race. Therefore you are to be installed in the office of the Galactic -Governor as Governor-select."</p> - -<p>"And?"</p> - -<p>"When your experience-ability factor exceeds that of the Galactic -Governor, you will automatically be installed in office. You -understand, of course, that higher ability will offset lacking factors -in experience, but you must have experience, Wan Nes Stan—a wealth of -it. You will gain it by being in the governor's office, working with -him, studying his methods, and—well, gaining experience."</p> - -<p>"As simple as that," said Wan Nes Stan, brushing his hands.</p> - -<p>Len Dor Vale nodded.</p> - -<p>"How long will it take?" asked Wan Nes Stan.</p> - -<p>"That depends upon you—and you alone. It depends entirely upon the -rapidity and accuracy you exhibit in forming correct evaluations."</p> - -<p>"I've heard that last remark before," smiled Wan Nes Stan. "A -psychiatrist once mentioned that philosophy—personal philosophy is a -man's evaluation of personal data."</p> - -<p>"Precisely."</p> - -<p>Wan Nes Stan nodded complacently. Len Dor Vale then started to help -Wan Nes Stan to pack his bag for the long journey across the galaxy to -Planet One.</p> - -<p>When they raced into space, Len Dor Vale went along as Wan Nes Stan's -personal advisor.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"This is routine, but a necessary part of your training," explained Len -Dor Vale. "I may as well tell you, I once was selected for a minor post -in this office and was subsequently replaced by a better-equipped man. -Therefore I know my way around here, and was selected to act as your -advisor. Each governor-select enjoys a personal advisor, you know."</p> - -<p>Wan Nes Stan smiled quietly. The job was strictly that of a super file -clerk. This would not last long and he knew it. With Len Dor Vale's -help, he rose swiftly, learning the intricate details with ease. By the -month, Wan Nes Stan went from department to department, learning the -basic function of each, and when his education was complete, Len Dor -Vale took him to meet the governor of the Galactic Council.</p> - -<p>"He is ready," said Len Dor Vale.</p> - -<p>"I'm glad to meet you," said the governor.</p> - -<p>He offered a hand, and as Wan Nes Stan took it, the grip was firm and -honest. They shook, and Wan Nes Stan went swiftly over his emotions, -asking himself the purpose of this heartiness.</p> - -<p>He knew that the Galactic Governor was genuinely glad to meet him. That -was against Wan Nes Stan's grain. To greet a possible—no, <i>positive</i> -successor to such a position was not done with heartiness. It should -be done with false heartiness, a completely counterfeit facade, -behind which false front the machinery necessary to destroy was being -brought to bear. Yet Wan Nes Stan knew that no such intent was in the -governor's mind. Apparently the Galactic Governor was quite content to -be replaced by a better man—and accepted the presence of the better -man with good will and friendship.</p> - -<p>Wan Nes Stan wondered whether the governor's henchmen might not -lead him astray in his experience-gaining program so that he would -get a false start, or even useless and detrimental data. His -super-intelligence told him that this was not the case. Like all the -rest of the Galactics, the governor was willing that a better man be -found, and insisted that when, as, and if a better man is discovered, -that he be placed properly, even though it meant stepping aside.</p> - -<p>It was a philosophy that Wan Nes Stan never entertained. It was -completely altruistic. It offered with no consideration of self, the -most good for the greatest number. It was a fool's philosophy—but -then, all the Galactics were fools.</p> - -<p>The governor said: "You have shown a most magnificent level of -intellectual aptitude. I congratulate you."</p> - -<p>"You have no resentment?"</p> - -<p>"Can a man resent that which he knows to be right and honest—unless he -himself is unright and dishonest?"</p> - -<p>"I suppose not," said Wan Nes Stan. He was safe. Continued use of his -mind machine would keep him far and above all comers. "But the usual -question comes: What are you going to do?"</p> - -<p>"When that time arrives, I will become your aide—unless one better -fitted for the position arrives first."</p> - -<p>"Mind if I ask how I—"</p> - -<p>"Replace me? I don't mind, at all. You replace me whenever you gain -sufficient experience to balance your superior intelligence."</p> - -<p>"How do I get experience?"</p> - -<p>"By being governor," laughed the governor.</p> - -<p>"Look," snorted Wan Nes Stan, "prerequisite for the position is -experience in the position itself? That's a fool's statement."</p> - -<p>"It is the rule of the Galactic Council."</p> - -<p>"It remains a fool's rule."</p> - -<p>"Is it not sensible," asked Len Dor Vale, "to demand experience before -one is given the chance to rule a galaxy-wide civilization such as -this?"</p> - -<p>Wan Nes Stan could see no real objection to that and said so.</p> - -<p>"Then is it a fool's rule?"</p> - -<p>Wan Nes Stan thought. It was no fool's rule, really. But instead of -making him operate as substitute during the governor's infrequent -absences; handling the minor matters of state; and covering the lesser -functions and passing rulings on the items of secondary importance, he -should be placed in the governor's chair and advised intelligently. -This advice should come from experienced men, and as the years rolled -on, the advice should become less and less necessary until Wan Nes Stan -was handling the entire proposition himself. They were doddling old -fools, the entire cosmos of them.</p> - -<p>He would change that ruling as soon as he could. There would be some -changes made once he became governor—they must be shown the proper way -to administrate. After all, it was an accepted fact that Wan Nes Stan -had the highest intellect of them all. His judgment must be infallible; -his decision would be correct. Their incompetent manner in this matter -was an index of their own entire lack of integration. A period of -teaching, perhaps, one that would give them better integration of -thought, would be advisable.</p> - -<p>The governor excused himself as the communicator buzzed, and Len Dor -Vale took that moment to draw Wan Nes Stan out of the office. As they -passed the door, the governor called after them:</p> - -<p>"Good luck, Wan Nes Stan."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Len Dor Vale returned to the governor-select's quarters. "Wan Nes -Stan," he said, "you realize that your machine has done its work."</p> - -<p>The other nodded. "It has had practically no effect for a couple of -weeks, now."</p> - -<p>"Your mind is apt. In fact its increase in capacity surpasses even -our greatest dreams. But like the untutored genius, you lack the -manipulatory facility. Your mind—like the false fiction of the farmer -that suddenly composes the brilliant symphony; the unlearned blacksmith -that becomes world-acclaimed as a genius with the paintbrush; or the -completely untutored grammar-failure that turns up with the galaxy's -finest novel—is untrained. You do not want to be a flash in the pan, -Wan Nes Stan.</p> - -<p>"In order that you use that vast storehouse you have, you must fill -it. It is like the galaxy's finest filing system—but it is empty. The -drawer files haven't even collected dust, and the cross-index cries for -its cards to be notated. Understand?"</p> - -<p>"Of course. Intelligence is not sufficient. Experience can and will -prepare a man for—"</p> - -<p>"Be careful," smiled Len Dor Vale. "In gaining experience one gains -also knowledge."</p> - -<p>"My mind," said Wan Nes Stan sharply, "has the ability to contain ... -a capacity for learning far above all. I know that the prime factor -is the capacity. Without capacity, one cannot fill it with experience -and knowledge. But get the knowledge—proper and well-balanced—and -experience is really unnecessary."</p> - -<p>"Providing that your knowledge is gained from one having the -experience. Then you will get experience vicariously. The practise -necessary to use that experience will come similarly. You are most -fortunate, Wan Nes Stan. I want to know, can you keep yourself busy for -a few days? I must make a short trip to a conference. I must not miss -it. Can you—"</p> - -<p>"I can, and will. I am going to see if I can make a machine that will -transfer knowledge and experience from one mind to another. I shall -convert my own gadget, here. I will not wait five centuries before I -take my next step."</p> - -<p>Len Dor Vale smiled in agreement. "I'd suggest that you take some time -for amusement."</p> - -<p>"Amusement? Spend my time in play when there are things to be done?"</p> - -<p>"We think it best to balance the mind's work with the mind's ability to -play. You'll find that our fun and games are just as advanced as are -our aims and our day's work. You'll not be doing anything childish, Wan -Nes Stan."</p> - -<p>"Len Dor Vale, I eschewed a future long years ago. I gave up my right -to wife and family. Women have little lure for me since all women per -se look upon men as possible fathers for their children. Games have as -their fundamental concept the desire to excel in the mind or the body -as an exhibition of desirability to the female. I shall continue to -work."</p> - -<p>"Then I'll be returning as soon as I can. Sorry, but it is necessary."</p> - -<p>"No resentment," smiled Wan Nes Stan affably. "I can get along."</p> - -<p>Len Dor Vale smiled at the governor-select and left. He went to his -quarters, packed, and within the hour was on his way into the depths of -space.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Two days later, he was given the "come-in" signal at a distant planet -on the rim of the galaxy. He dropped his ship quickly and obediently -and made his way with deference through the city.</p> - -<p>The Galactic waited until he was growing impatient before the attendant -signaled him to enter the inner sanctum.</p> - -<p>"Before you enter ... Len Dor Vale, is it?... you have the rules?"</p> - -<p>"I have been here before," answered Len Dor Vale. "I have also reviewed -the rules."</p> - -<p>"Good. Be not disturbed if any of your questions go unanswered. -Students will not reveal anything of dangerous nature and will remain -silent rather than give false answer."</p> - -<p>Len Dor Vale entered the apartment.</p> - -<p>"I seek advice and knowledge."</p> - -<p>"Ask."</p> - -<p>"Wan Nes Stan is about to take his next step."</p> - -<p>"I know."</p> - -<p>"I ask, will it be violent?"</p> - -<p>"There may be violence, but it will not be a major problem."</p> - -<p>"Can I prevent violence?" asked Len Dor Vale.</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>Len Dor Vale nodded. "He is a violent man. I see no reason why violence -should be permitted."</p> - -<p>"Could you prevent it? You, admittedly, are psychologist number four -among all the Galactics."</p> - -<p>"I am here asking your advice."</p> - -<p>"What is he doing now?"</p> - -<p>"Attempting to convert his machine to a device that will transfer -knowledge from one brain to another. He desires that he gain the -governor's place as soon as possible."</p> - -<p>"He wants the next step to come at once," mused the Student.</p> - -<p>"As his psychologist—and number four of all—I know when the next step -will take place. I know, or can predict fairly well how Wan Nes Stan's -next move will manifest itself. Were I of his mental caliber to five -percent, I would block it!"</p> - -<p>"Along that road lies danger—cease following that thought!"</p> - -<p>"I shall, immediately."</p> - -<p>"Wan Nes Stan has obtruded his philosophy upon you already, Len Dor -Vale. The next step will take place soon enough that no replacement of -you will be necessary, that you know. Completion of his investigations -on the conversion of the mind machine will bring about the next -step—as you predict—sooner than it would if he were not so -single-minded in his purpose."</p> - -<p>"Why was Wan Nes Stan permitted to proceed?"</p> - -<p>"Every man gets his chance. Every man must be permitted his opportunity -to excel as long as he does no irreparable harm."</p> - -<p>"His actions on Terra prior to being forced out were not beneficent or -benevolent."</p> - -<p>"There were no permanent scars," mused the Student. "As for his use of -the machine—it has done all Students good. Evidence to the effect that -the mind is limitless is valuable, Len Dor Vale."</p> - -<p>"But his is not the type that should use such a machine."</p> - -<p>"Agreed. One should have a purely theoretical mind before one uses the -machine. Otherwise the mind becomes agile and capacious with nothing -for it to do. A complete theorist cares nothing for reduction of theory -into practice; manipulation of ultra-theoretical concepts into solution -is the end-all for us, and the obtaining of impractical mathematics can -be handled in a super-energized mind without unbalance.</p> - -<p>"But Wan Nes Stan's philosophy includes violence where necessary, and -there will be violence. But not dangerous violence. No man can do -anything irreplaceably devastating."</p> - -<p>"Frankly," offered Len Dor Vale, "I feared that in taking his next step -he might take Planet One with him."</p> - -<p>"Unless he can control all of the Galactic minds there, he will not -cause change in any but himself. Have no fear, even for those within -his reach."</p> - -<p>"I thank you. I was worried."</p> - -<p>The Student nodded, and turned away from Len Dor Vale by a slight -amount. The Student's eyes closed part way as he immersed himself in -thought. As Len Dor Vale turned to go, the Student aroused himself -briefly—long enough to add:</p> - -<p>"Wan Nes Stan will take his next step and the Galaxy will be a better -place for it."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Wan Nes Stan shook his head with annoyance as the machine remained -mute. For three days he had been working on it with all of his -mind-capacity. In the empty crevasses of his capable mind, Wan Nes Stan -was packing enormous quantities of information and education gained on -the spot. With perfect memory, he stored the details away and reviewed -them with perfection before he tried another change in the circuits of -his machine. Sheer reasoning power had failed to solve his problem, -not even unreal mathematics served. There was no solution to the -problem of how to transfer knowledge from brain to brain.</p> - -<p>What is knowledge? he asked himself again and again.</p> - -<p>Knowledge is a matter of know-how. It is, in a sense, experience -whether original or vicarious. A schoolboy need not perform the -generation of calculus in order to study it; the myriad of false trails -have been weeded out. Thus schooling can pack a lifetime of learning -into a few short weeks by merely pointing the way instead of letting -the schoolboy follow all the red-herring trails that the original -thinker did. In semantics, the student is offered problems and if he -fails to solve them properly, he is immediately prevented from basing -other solutions on this false premise—pyramiding his illogic.</p> - -<p>So Wan Nes Stan answered himself.</p> - -<p>To trace the life-patterns of one brain onto another should not be -hard. Yet no theory would permit it.</p> - -<p>And a thought came to the governor-select. What is philosophy?</p> - -<p>Philosophy is a man's personal evaluation of data.</p> - -<p>Based upon what?</p> - -<p>Evaluation of data based upon experience and knowledge and reason.</p> - -<p>What is reason?</p> - -<p>The ability to extrapolate beyond present experience and knowledge so -as to apply the extrapolation correctly to a problem not yet filed in -the realm of experience.</p> - -<p>Then philosophy is to efficiently apply one's experience in evaluation -of data.</p> - -<p>And to apply it properly in guiding his actions.</p> - -<p>Suppose then, I gain another man's experience and knowledge?</p> - -<p>You will then reason like he did.</p> - -<p>And your philosophy will be his.</p> - -<p>Precisely.</p> - -<p>But the Galactics are doddering old fools! With the galaxy at the tips -of their fingers, they play games. An ounce of ambition in one of -them would put that one in the governor's seat. Yet they prate about -adaptability and aptitude and experience and juggle their figures, -consult their computing tables and select a man for each job. Has -ambition no place?</p> - -<p>Ambition is a factor. To not-want the governor's position would reduce -the aptitude factor.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Wan Nes Stan left the building where he lived and roamed idly through -the streets. Galactics walked in the afternoon sun oblivious to him. -Magnificent couples there were, walking through the trees that lined -each street, hand in hand, complete in their own exclusive world of -ecstasy. Others sat in self-satisfied contemplation of their problems -or presented argument to one another on points and theory.</p> - -<p>It was a quiet scene that Wan Nes Stan entered. Even argument seemed to -be pro-rated and measured in intensity. Of earnest self-belief there -was plenty, but on each evidence of self-conviction there was the soft -stamp of willingness to permit the other his own belief. There was no -scorn for a conflicting thought, but instead there was admiration for -the other party, who had mentality enough to entertain a concept—and -believe it—that was at variance with the philosophy of the first.</p> - -<p>A galaxy full of mild-mannered little rabbits!</p> - -<p>A decadent, sloppily-sentimental culture!</p> - -<p>A race of men so blind that they could not see what awaited them -once they achieved ambition—who were too busy lifting those below -to reach above and lift themselves. Lazily satisfied to advance with -the maddeningly-slow process of evolutionary development. What did it -matter if Terra received no help?</p> - -<p>A culture of missionary-minded altruists.</p> - -<p>Owners of the galaxy—and so mentally soft that any man could wrest it -from them single-handed.</p> - -<p>Any man.</p> - -<p>And yet he, Wan Nes Stan, who had the drive, the power, and the -capability was blocked. Blocked until he could spend five centuries in -service to gain the experience necessary. Five hundred years in the -second-place chair. Half a millennium of inactivity before he could -begin to take that which he should have now!</p> - -<p>Frustrated by a machine. Frustrated by a galaxy full of fools!</p> - -<p>"Fools!" he said aloud. No one heard him.</p> - -<p>"You, there. Fool!"</p> - -<p>"I?" asked the Galactic in surprise.</p> - -<p>"You are a fool!"</p> - -<p>"A concept I have often considered, but if you wish to belabor the -point, I'll be most glad to maintain a stout defense."</p> - -<p>"You are a fool!"</p> - -<p>"Resolved," said the Galactic, "that I am not. You, as affirm—"</p> - -<p>"Fool!"</p> - -<p>"But parroting is not presenting argum—"</p> - -<p>"Fool! You are a fool."</p> - -<p>"By what standard?"</p> - -<p>"By mine!" exploded Wan Nes Stan. "You are fools! All of you! You sit -there idly, watching the years pass, with all the universe before you, -and you do nothing!"</p> - -<p>"And you can show us the way?" asked the Galactic. "Might I ask your -philosophy, friend?"</p> - -<p>"I'm no friend to fools. Show you the way? That I can. I am the only -one among you that can show you the way—and you sit there and ignore -me. That is why you are fools!"</p> - -<p>"Show me and I'll follow," answered the Galactic. "Convince me and I'm -your man."</p> - -<p>"Bah! One logical, integrated mind in a veritable sea of moronic -reason," shouted Wan Nes Stan. "Blocked by ignorance from that -which should be mine. Forestalled from my rightful station by sheer -numbers—as all great minds are restricted by the blind, mindless, -unimaginative imbeciles about him. Blocked and barred from my rightful -future—"</p> - -<p>Wan Nes Stan leaped forward and snatched the Galactic's hand. He -reached forward and clutched the jeweled pin from the Galactic's lapel. -He struck the Galactic across the face and started to run from the -scene.</p> - -<p>Another glitter caught his eye and Wan Nes Stan leaped over to wrest a -luminous, jeweled timepiece from around the throat of a woman.</p> - -<p>"Give—" he screamed.</p> - -<p>And he clutched at a handbag and bore it away in his mad flight.</p> - -<p>"—or I take!"</p> - -<p>An ornate brooch came free in his hands with a long strip of -shimmering, diaphanous silk clinging to the pin. Her companion raced -after Wan Nes Stan to remonstrate for the insult, but the madman struck -him across the face.</p> - -<p>He snatched the ring from the fallen man's finger.</p> - -<p>And on he raced, through the bright afternoon sunlight, ever adding -to his pile of loot. Galactics clustered behind him, talking to one -another, in wondering, unbelieving tones.</p> - -<p>But Wan Nes Stan, his lust to strive for power denied him, retreated -within himself and substituted the childlike desire for glittering, -beckoning things of jewel and credit. Denied even the chance to steal -in this world where all was his for the asking, Wan Nes Stan returned -to his youth and snatched things that had once been of value to himself -and to those about him.</p> - -<p>Worthless baubles!</p> - -<p>But still he ran, clutching here and there and ever adding to his -collection of gaudy junk.</p> - -<p>And the final straw came when the Galactics, having no desire to be -jostled or beaten, lined the broad sidewalk and quietly unfastened -ornaments from jumper or dress or wrist or finger and held it out to -Wan Nes Stan as he ran by.</p> - -<p>"—I take!" he screamed, and then the scream became a whimper; they -took from him the last pleasure of forcing them to part with the -baubles and it broke him.</p> - -<p>He threw the baubles to the ground. One of the Galactics stooped and -scooped them into the handbag and offered it to him.</p> - -<p>"I take," he blubbered, and as he saw the proffered bag, his hysteria -broke and tears started from his eyes. His mouth pouted and he -blubbered and cried like a whipped child. Sobs, deep and lung-shaking -gripped his powerful frame and his utter lack of control extended to -his motor nerves and he slumped like a rag doll.</p> - -<p>Broken in spirit, Wan Nes Stan moved forward through the encircling -crowd and left them wondering. They did not follow.</p> - -<p>Tears streamed down his contorted face and his steps—laggard and -weak—were dotted with drops of moisture as he made his broken way to -his office.</p> - -<p>He entered wearily, and sat down.</p> - -<p>"Wan Nes Stan—megalomaniac!" he said bitterly. He turned at the sound -of a step and saw Len Dor Vale watching him.</p> - -<p>"Broken," he said.</p> - -<p>Len Dor Vale fixed the other man with a piercing gaze. "Sorry," he -said. "Quite sorry. But it can not be done that way, you know. The -whole proposition was your idea."</p> - -<p>"I know," said the other man. He inspected Len Dor Vale's large, -well-proportioned frame, his strong features, and his absolute poise -and wondered how any man, with all to recommend him, could be so -utterly unsympathetic. The coldness in his face set him apart from -one of the Galactic Ones. "The proposition was sensible enough, yet I -failed. Even though I failed, my manipulations were properly done, you -will agree."</p> - -<p>Len Dor Vale nodded.</p> - -<p>"Where did I fail?"</p> - -<p>"You struck a snag."</p> - -<p>"It was not my fault."</p> - -<p>"Are you crawling?" snapped Len Dor Vale.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps," said Wan Nes Stan bitterly. "I want to know how I failed."</p> - -<p>Len Dor Vale smiled deprecatorily. "Wan Nes Stan, you failed because -you neglected to take everything into account. Before you can -succeed—before you can hope to plan without failure, you must learn to -take everything into account."</p> - -<p>"One cannot take everything into account."</p> - -<p>"Yes, one can. It is quite possible—if you know how."</p> - -<p>"Everything's easy," said Wan Nes Stan sourly, "once you know how."</p> - -<p>"Certainly," laughed Len Dor Vale.</p> - -<p>"And because I made a mistake, I'm ruined."</p> - -<p>"Had you taken everything into account, you would have known that you -could never succeed. You wouldn't have started, and now you wouldn't be -a complete and broken failure."</p> - -<p>"You may well gloat."</p> - -<p>"I'm not gloating," objected Len Dor Vale.</p> - -<p>"I believe that," admitted Wan Nes Stan. "But that changes nothing."</p> - -<p>"You understand our position, Wan Nes Stan. If we prevented you from -trying; well, you might have succeeded, and we'd never know the -benefits of your success. It was your idea, and you wanted to try. But -don't feel too broken. Others have tried."</p> - -<p>"Small consolation. Knowing that another man is starving will not -put food in <i>my</i> belly." Wan Nes Stan stood up, dusted his jacket -carefully, and left the office.</p> - -<p>The report of a pistol echoed and re-echoed up and down the corridor, -reverberating and hushing until it could be mistaken for a wild cackle -of laughter.</p> - - -<p class="ph1">THE END.</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FINE FEATHERS ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -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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