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any of their biotechnicians could handle. They did it more easily than an Earth horticulturist breeds for a
certain strain of color or shape in a flower.
But their methods were different from those of any human plant breeder. Be it said for them that they
did try to explain their methods, but the explanations simply did not come through. In our terms, they
claimed to "think" a plant into the shape and character they desired. Whatever they meant by that, it is
certainly true that they could take a dormant seedling plant and, without touching it or operating on it in
any way perceptible to their human students, cause it to bloom and burgeon into maturity in the space of
a few hours-with new characteristics not found in the parent line . . and which bred true thereafter.
However the Little People differed from Earthmen only in degree with respect to scientific
attainments. In an utterly basic sense they differed from humans in kind.
They were not individuals.
No single body of a native housed a discrete individual. Their individuals were multi-bodied; they had
group "souls." The basic unit of their society was a telepathic rapport group of many parts. The number
of bodies and brains housing one individual ran as high as ninety or more and was never less than
thirty-odd.
The colonists began to understand much that had been utterly puzzling about the Little People only
after they learned this fact. There is much reason to believe that the Little People found the Earthmen
equally puzzling, that they, too, had assumed that their pattern of existence must be mirrored in others.
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The eventual discovery of the true facts on each side, brought about mutual misunderstandings over
identity, seemed to arouse horror in the minds of the Little People. They withdrew themselves from the
neighborhood of the Families' settlement and remained away for several days.
At length a messenger entered the camp site and sought out Barstow. ". . .We are sorry we shunned
you . . . in our haste we mistook your fortune for your fault . . . we wish to help you . . . we offer to teach
you that you may become like ourselves . . ."
Barstow pondered how to answer this generous overture. "We thank you for your wish to help us,"
he said at last, "but what you call our misfortune seems to be a necessary part of our makeup. Our ways
are not your ways. I do not think we could understand your ways."
The thought that came back to him was very troubled. "We have aided the beasts of the air and of
the ground to cease their strife . . . but if~you do not wish our help we will not thrust it on you . . ."
The messenger went away, leaving Zaccur Barstow troubled in his mind. Perhaps, he thought, ha had
been hasty in answering without taking time to consult the elders. Telepathy was certainly not a gift to be
scorned; perhaps the Little People could train them in telepathy without any loss of human individualism.
But what he knew of the sensitives among the Families did not encourage such hope; there was not a one
of them who was emotionally healthy, many of them were mentally deficient as well-it did not seem like a
safe path for humans.
It could be discussed later, he decided; no need to hurry. "No need to hurry" was the spirit
throughout the settlement. There was no need to strive, little that had to be done and rarely any rush
about that little. The sun was warm and pleasant, each day was much like the next, and there was always
the day after that. The Members, predisposed by their inheritance to take a long view of things, began to
take an eternal view. Time no longer mattered. Even the longevity research, which had continued
throughout their memories, languished. Gordon Hardy tabled his current experimentation to pursue the
vastly more fruitful occupation of learning what the Little People knew of the nature of life. He was forced
to take it slowly, spending long hours in digesting new knowledge. As time trickled on, he was hardly
aware that his hours of contemplation were becoming longer, his bursts of active study less frequent.
One thing he did learn, and its implications opened up whole new fields of thought: the Little People
had, in one sense, conquered death.
Since each of their egos was shared among many bodies, the death of one body involved no death
for the ego. All memory experiences of that body remained intact, the personality associated with it was
not lost, and the physical loss could be made up by letting a young native "marry" into the group. But a
group ego, one of the personalities which spoke to the Earthmen, could not die, save possibly by the
destruotion of every body it lived in. They simply went on, apparently forever.
Their young, up to the time of "marriage" or group assimilation, seemed to have little personality and
only rudimentary or possibly instinctive mental processes. Their elders expected no more of them in the
way of intelligent behavior than a human expects of a child still in the womb. There were always many
such uncompleted persons attached to any ego group; they were cared for like dearly beloved pets or
helpless babies, although they were often as large and as apparently mature to Earth eyes as were their
elders.
Lazarus grew bored with paradise more quickly than did the majority of his cousins. "It can't always,"
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he complained to Libby, who was lying near him on the fine grass, "be time for tea."
"What's fretting you, Lazarus?"
"Nothing in particular." Lazarus set the point of his knife on his right elbow, flipped it with his other
hand, watched it bury its point in the ground. "It's just that -this place reminds me of a well-run zoo. It's
got about as much future." He grunted scornfully. "It's 'Never-Never Land."
"But what in particular is worrying you?"
"Nothing. That's what worries me. Honest to goodness, Andy, don't you see anything wrong in being
turned out to pasture like this?"
Libby grinned sheepishly. "I guess it's my hillbilly blood. 'When it don't rain, the roof don't leak; when
it rains, I cain't fix it nohow," he quoted. "Seems to me we're doing tolerably well. What irks you?"
"Well-" Lazarus' pale-blue eyes stared far away; he paused in his idle play with his knife. "When I
was a young man a long time ago, I was beached in the South Seas-"
"Hawaii?'
"No. Farther south. Damned if I know what they call it today. I got hard up, mighty hard up, and sold
my sextant. Pretty soon-or maybe quite a while-I could have passed for a native. I lived like one. It didn't
seem to matter. But one day I caught a look at myself in a mirror." Lazarus sighed gustily. "I beat my way
out of that place shipmate to a cargo of green hides, which may give you some idea how. scared and
desperate I was!"
Libby did not comment. "What do you do with your time, Lib?" Lazarus persisted.
"Me? Same as always. Think about mathematics. Try to figure out a dodge for a space drive like' the
one that got us here."
"Any luck on that?" Lazarus was suddenly alert. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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