Fletcher Pratt Page 3

  I answered, "When a man wants to go into business and has not money enough, he borrows from others and agrees to pay their money back together with more out of the profits of his business. These promises he puts in writing, and the writings are called bonds. I sell them to people who wish to lend money."

  "How is it good to you?" asked Ashembe. "Gramercy for your courtesy, my friends," he went on with a smile, "I do not well understand the meanings of your primitive institutions. They give you gold for sell these promises to pay back money lended?"

  "That's it," I said. "You see, it's not always easy to sell bonds. The men who have money may not want to lend it or they may not know anything about the man who is going into business. So I have to tell them how good a thing it would be for them to loan the money on these bonds." "No scientific board is yours? Improbable! You sell them something they do not want and they give you gold for doing it. Your world is strange....I do not understand. On my world, when man would go into the business he must be permitted by scientific board, who look at his attainment of art of business and ask, 'Is the business necessary?' If he need articles, scientific board produces them, but not make him pay out his profits on work to parasites."

  It seemed about time to draw the conversation to a close.

  We sat on a ledge of rock among green-black shadows from the pines. All about was the fluid splendor of late summer, hot and unquiet, with an indefinable feel of life and movement even in its silences. Ashembe, uncomfortably warm, dipped his hand in the water and drew it across his forehead.

  "Yours is the hot nation," he said.

  Merrick grinned. "You ought to be in New York," said he. "This is just cool enough to be pleasant."

  "In my world is colder," our visitor went on, as though he had been interrupted while telling something. "Gabo is great necessity. We shall how otherwise keep ourselves warmed and lighted. Our sun burns small with resultant decrease in illumination and calories. Locked in all atoms are reservoirs of power and light, but only from the atom of gabo do we secure the means of release ec—ec—economically. Therefore of our little mine of gabo we expend much in sending scientific to other worlds for great quantity."

  "So that's why you came," I said. "I wondered, but it wasn't quite polite to ask."

  "Which is polite?" inquired Ashembe innocently. "Is it the local moral code? In my country, if man wishes to know informatively he asks."

  "Not a moral code," I attempted to explain (I was always being caught in something like this by our wide-awake and inquisitive visitor) "but a code of—well, manners. Politeness indicates that one is of good breeding, of good behavior, will not do things that offend other people. It's a social code."

  "But you have those who offend others because they are not of the good breeding?" asked Ashembe, dabbing his hand in the water. "Astonish! In my country the social code is more simplicity. It is the rule always to be fair. Your polite code must be very complication."

  "It is," Merrick chipped in with feeling. "It is not polite to ask people about their reasons for doing things because a good many people do things or have reasons for doing things that they do not care to admit. They might feel them a trifle discreditable."

  "Improbable!" said Ashembe. "In my country could not be. Attend—my entire name are Koumar Ashembe Bodrog Fotas. Koumar Ashembe are merely personal. Bodrog indicates I am of the hereditary exploring * or war-fight science. Fotas indicate my rank in identical class. All the people thus named in my country. But speak—actions of crime are they still so many that people conceal not only thoughts but also actions? You do not eliminate crime tendency children?"

  * Evidently Ashembe, in his ignorance of English, did not quite mean what he said here. Later on in the narrative, Mr. Schierstedt makes it abundantly clear that hereditary classes, as such, have no existence on Ashembe's planet.

  "How can we?" asked Merrick. "A man may be perfectly all right till he gets to be thirty years old, and then blooey! He blows off and murders somebody or commits some other crime."

  "Not. Never." Ashembe was positive. "Psychology is behind science with you. I tell you what we have found in many years. No man makes first crime at thirty years age. As the child he performs small things like purloining parents' tickets or telling small non-truths. Nobody notices. But when the same child grows he becomes large crime. In my nation once every month, each child is examined with truth serum and inquired about all his actions. If he shows crime tendency, we examine very carefully by scientific board. All are treated in direct proportion to amount of crime tendency. Some we do cure with the Tensal and drugs. Some we do sterilize. The bad ones we dead."

  "You execute little children?"

  "Certain. Wherefore not? Is cheaper, less harm to rest of people than spending great sum on education of these, allowing same to grow and commit crime before execution. Your system all weak. You take revenge on criminal. We prevent crime."

  "But don't you think," said Merrick, "that some of them would make useful citizens if they had the proper training? We find it so."

  "Not," declared Ashembe. "Deep crime tendency is ineradicable. Your scientists know the laws in physics, also in chemics, also in optics. It is aberrant they do not know psychology governed by equally firm laws. No hope is for child with crime tendency so strong as those we dead. It is measured on scale with scientist instruments, following application of Tensal and truth-serum. You do not have the truth-serum?"

  "Yes, we have something like that," said Merrick, "but it was only recently discovered and its use is far from general. People distrust it.... How many children do you execute in a year?"

  "In one annual revolution of planet about solar sphere, one or two entire planet, yes? Ten or fifteen we sterilized. Rest, one hundred in year, we cure with Tensal and drugs."

  I thought I detected an inconsistency. "Why do you execute some and only sterilize others?"

  Ashembe smiled in his superior fashion. "Only very bad ones we execute," he answered. "Those we sterilize the scientific board tests and finds in them that they have very good brains of high service. Psychological law that men of high brains—how do you say it, genius?—one of every three has crime tendency of one kind. They would make slaves of people, or acquire all wealth for selves, or bring the purple panoplies of war-fight. Also is psychological law that children of genius with crime tendency have crime tendency without genius. But it is great loss to world if we execute genius men who might make civilization advance very rapid. We sterilize them and put them by very close watch so they do not make the crime, and they do us great works. Solely when the child has deep crime tendency and very small brain we execute."

  "But if you can cure mild tendencies toward crime, why can't you cure the rest?" asked Merrick.

  "Our civilization is there point defective," said Ashembe, frankly. "What use? We cure with the Tensal." He indicated the helmet apparatus he had worn with a motion toward his head. "The Tensal makes the man to sleep and we cure crime with what your knowledge book says mesmerism, hypnotism. Very good for imparting knowledge when the man is willing, but to eradicate some things, like crime tendency, hot easy. The man who wears Tensal while he is being eradicated of something makes psychological struggle against it. Some men must acquire dominance over their mind. This weakens the brain and makes it not so good. If crime tendency is small, weakening man is small, man is not hurt much, and will make useful manual labor. If the crime tendency is large the man can be dominated but the brain is stress too strong and he becomes the idiot. Viz., when we find the genius with crime tendency we only sterilize and not try to cure. We might cure, but we would have the idiot and not genius."

  "Sounds logical, but it must be unpleasant for the geniuses," murmured Merrick. "But tell us about gabo. What is it? Is it a metal?"

  "Affirmative," said Ashembe, "what is your better affirmative word? ... Gabo is the metal with bright metallic luster. We find in ore of ruddy color, chemically united with sulphur. Preparation is by roasting and distillin
g. Spectrum has bright yellow and green line and smaller red, blue and three violet lines. I am not remember numbers of these. Atomic structures is of tenth rank, third order, decahedral pattern. Is liquid at this hottitude and heavy. Close like cadmium. You do recognize?"

  I looked at Merrick and Merrick looked at me. "Liquid, did you say," I asked, "and a metal? Why, that must be mercury or something very like it. It's the only liquid metal I know of."

  "Mer-cu-ry," repeated Ashembe. "Pause." And he trotted off for the shack to return with the M volume * of the encyclopedia and his Tensal helmet. "Read me," he said, tossing me the book, and settling himself in the shade against a moss-covered log.

  * Evidently, the evening readings of the two friends to Ashembe had not progressed as far as M in the encyclopedia yet.

  When I had finished the brief article, which is all the encyclopedia allots to the subject of the occurrence, properties and uses of mercury, our guest rose, fumbling with the keys of his Tensal helmet.

  "Mercury!" he cried, "I have achieved! This is truthful gabo, and I am cursed of my world to find. You have it of common occurrence in this world. Your knowledge book declares thus. Where to get it is next problem."

  "It shouldn't be difficult," I remarked. "I fancy that plenty of it could be had in New York. How much do you need?"

  "Five hundred kilograms last us for many century," said Ashembe. "I give formula for Tensal or heat-gun in exchange. Is it worth?"

  "Ye—es," I said rather doubtfully. "I don't know whether I can make it clear, but articles of that kind have to be patented, manufactured and marketed before you can get much money out of them. It would probably take you two or three years, at the very least."

  "Astonish!" said Ashembe. "Oh, hell, I forgot you use metal for exchange medium. Gold?"

  "Yes. Silver too. And how are you going to get back with your mercury?"

  "Great simplicity. Construct Shoraru like this I make arrival," he swung his hand toward the spot where his vehicle lay in the water. "With mercury not difficulty. But , you need the metal exchange medium for mercury" ... he ruminated for a moment ... "Oh, hell, I make gold for you. Silver, I know not. You obtain small quantity of mercury and I will erect all gold desirable."

  "You can make gold?" I asked.

  "Certain. Other metals also from those of same system," he assured us calmly. "Mercury not. Calcium not. Antimony can make. Gold can make—almost any metal out of another of similar system. Copper not rare, no?"

  "No, copper isn't rare and it's fairly cheap," I assured him.

  "Easy to do. Will make multiple gold for your entire world, to end shortage thereof under which you suffer." He rattled on, but my thoughts had gone off at a tangent. "Come on, let's have dinner," I said, rising. "Where'd you put those rabbits, Merrick?"

  The time we could spend at Joyous Gard was nearly up. Already a September chill had come to the nights, and the wintergreen berries were showing red warning of coming frost.

  The problem of what to do with Ashembe when we left had formed a ground-swell to my conversations with Merrick for the past three weeks, and it was now becoming insistent. Our original intention had been to take him along, introduce him to the head of some chemical company (where his knowledge would doubtless make a tremendous fluttering in the dove-cotes) and leave him to his own devices.

  But I, at least, was coming to doubt the wisdom of such a course. Ashembe's ideas and ideals had brought about a disagreement that made a change of plans necessary. And it was something far more difficult to deal with. The thought had occurred to both Merrick and me that a man as guileless as this visitor from the depths of space, possessed of such secrets as the heat-ray flash and a means for making gold from copper—and God alone knew what else!—might very easily fall into unscrupulous hands. Murder has been done for information of far less value than either of these, and everyone can remember instances of stolen formulae too numerous to mention. One recalls Diesel.*

  * Who fell (or was pushed) overboard from a crosschannel steamer in 1913 while he was on his way to sell, in England, certain formulas for improvements on the Diesel engine. To say the least his death was singularly opportune for a German government which one year later began a war in which submarines (with Diesel engines) played a large part.

  We tried to explain this to Ashembe, begging him to entrust us with his formulas in order that Merrick might have them patented. To our fears about his safety he retorted only with polite gibes on the moral standards of this imperfect Earth.

  "Oh, hell, my friends," quoth Ashembe. "You say if you have this thing patented, only I can use. But such an eventuality would be crime in my country. I am criminal if I detain information of benefit to all males and females for personal utility. How now, good sirs?"

  "But who in your country is going to know anything about it?"

  "I am obligated to fill out one report on all actions of scientific import since leaving Murashema," was Ashembe's reply. "What then if I insert in it statements of falsification? What then if I commit it worse falsification by suppression of the evidence? I could not accomplish this."

  "Why not give us your formulas, then?" said Merrick, "and let us operate them for you. If you give them out publicly, no chemical firm will agree to furnish your mercury. They will gain nothing from what everyone else knows. And besides, if you give a gold-making formula to the public, everyone will be making it, and it will be so worthless you will be unable to buy mercury with it, no matter how much you have."

  "That is due to terrestrial defective metallic coinage system," said Ashembe solemnly. "Readily would I give the information to you, provided you obligated your personal selves to spread the said information to your entire world. But to give formulas to you for your own benefit would be causing you to commit the same crime as myself. I would thus be no less guilty. The only non-criminal process would be thusly—to give formulas to the scientists of the world and permit them to reward with mercury or other matters. Also there is other consideration. You declare it will take long to patent articles and build machines and purchase mercury. You refer to inferior morals of this orb of day which causes men to dispossess others of rights in processes. If I give the formulas to scientists, no one can steal because all will know."

  Merrick shook his head. "You don't know this world," said he. "About all the reward you'd get at once would be jealousy and hatred."

  "What we need," Merrick went on in his best "gentlemen-of-the-jury" manner, "is a compromise by which we can adjust Ashembe's standards of justice and the practical difficulties of the situation. He wants us to give his formulas to everyone. But as he has thus far given it out to no one, why not continue in that way? Would it be all right with you," he turned to our guest, "to regard our world as simply not yet far enough advanced to make the proper use of your formulas? Frankly, I think it would be for the best. If you feel that you wish to reward us with something besides gold, you can write out some of your formulas and leave them in trust with a Board of Scientists, not to be opened or used until some future date. This form of trust is fairly common with us, and is never violated. And if you wish to give something of immediate value to the public, why not the means of taking your Tensal helmet? That would be of the highest value." Ashembe nodded thoughtfully. "Such would be the upright course," he admitted with some reluctance, "but leave me feeling ingratitude. I could so much help you and not to do!"

  "Still, there's no use teaching us to fly till we have learned to walk," said Merrick. "We find in this world that we cannot civilize a race from the outside. It must work out its own destiny."

  "But if you do that, how is Ashembe going to get his mercury?" I broke in. "He can have all I can buy for him and welcome, but I rather fancy it will take more than that for his needs."

  "Why, that's simple," said Merrick. "We'll bring him a little mercury right here, and he can set up his gold-making plant to pay for it."

  "Finished," said Ashembe, touching his fingers to his forehead. "Gratitude f
or your plan. It is scientific to me." And with that we left the thorny subject. Ashembe was to stay at Joyous Gard, with one of us to keep him company and take the deliveries of materials that would be sent from New York. We spun a coin to decide who should go, and for better or worse the lot fell on Merrick. I was to stay.

  III

  At THIS point, the transcriber must enter in briefly, as he was hampered both by material missing from Schierstedt's manuscript, and the restrictions Professor Hudson laid upon him. I can only assume that Ashembe read the manuscript and removed pages which detailed the methods through which he manufactured gold and diamonds—what remains is fascinating, but meaningless; and Professor Hudson and his colleagues felt that it would be better to omit these sections entirely, feeling that amateur experimenters might be induced to make attempts which would be dangerous to say the very least.

  Merrick went back to the city and arranged for the delivery of equipment; and while the successful, though crude, experiments were going on, Ashembe was also beginning work on what he described as a "cometary car" in English, and a "Shoraru" in his own language.

  The beginnings of Ashembe's "cometary car" were made in the woods some two hundred feet back from the shore line, where a jutting outcrop of rock made a natural platform about five feet each way. With infinite, labor I had cleared off the trees around this rock to enlarge the space to a crude circle something over twenty feet in diameter, and under Ashembe's direction had cut up the trees thus removed into convenient lengths for transformation into charcoal. "Important," he had said, "to have large supply of pure carbon. Charcoal is easy form to refine."

  In the center of the clearing, on the rock, he was building his apparatus, not amid a towering pile of scaffolding, as I had somehow expected, but flat on the rock. He began by forming a circular plate of the chrome-nickel steel, flattening and welding it readily with his heat-flash, handling with marvelous dexterity the instrument and the two little spreading tools he had made. As he worked, he treated the plate with the iridium he had made from the cobalt and again treated the whole with the mercury tube.