Astounding Science Fiction – April 1958
(1958)*
Eric Frank Russell
There is no visible horizon beyond which the unleashed intellect cannot advance. But where is it taking mankind? Compare the brutal complexities of galactic conquest, as pictured here and in Poul Anderson's Genius, with the possibility of man's conquest of himself. This story provides the perfect closing to our adventure in exploring the enormous scope of man's intelligence and of the universe he inhabits.
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They came out of the starfield under the earth, from the region of a brilliant sun called Sigma Octantis. Ten huge copper-colored ships. Nobody saw them land. They were astute enough to sit awhile in the howling wastes of Antarctica, scout around and seize all twenty members of the International South Polar Expedition.
Even then the world did not take alarm. The newcomers, who titled themselves Raidans, hazarded a guess that within a fortnight earth would become curious about the fate of the captured. But it didn't work out like that at all; contrary to expectations the Terran prisoners proved so submissive and cooperative.
By signs and gestures the Raidans conveyed their cover-up order: "Send out reassuring messages."
The captives did it willingly, in straightforward manner, playing no tricks, well-nigh falling over themselves in eagerness to please. Routine signals from the polar expedition continued to be picked up by listening-posts in Australia, New Zealand, and Chile. Nobody found reason to suspect that anything out of the ordinary had occurred down there within the ice barrier where blizzards raged throughout the long-drawn night.
Within the next eleven weeks the invaders learned the Terran language, devoting all their time to picking it up as fast and fluently as possible. This chore could have been avoided by insisting that the prisoners learn to speak Raidan but the tactic would have involved loss of conversational privacy. The Raidans preferred to do the work and keep their talk strictly to themselves.
In the twelfth week Zalumar, commander of the fleet, summoned Lakin, his personal aide. "Lakin, there is no need for us to waste any more hours upon this animal gabble. We can now speak it well enough to make ourselves properly understood. It is time to get out of this frozen place and assert ourselves in conditions of comfort."
"Yes, sire," agreed Lakin, heartened by the thought of coming sunshine and warmth.
"The leader of these prisoners is named Gordon Fox. I wish to speak with him. Bring him to me."
"Yes, sire." Lakin hastened out, returned shortly with the captive.
He was a tall, lean Terran, lank-haired, his face adorned with a polar beard. His gray eyes examined Zalumar, noting the broad shoulders, the long, boneless arms, the yellow eyes, the curious green fuzz overlying the skin. Zalumar found himself enjoying this inspection because it was made with a curious mixture of servility and admiration.
"I have something to say to you, Fox."
"Yes, sire?"
"Doubtless you've been wondering why we are here, what our intentions are, what is going to happen in the near future, eh?" Without waiting for a reply, he went on, "The answer is brief and to the point: we are going to take over your world."
He watched the other's face, seeking fear, shock, anger, any of the emotions normally to be expected. But he detected none of them. On the contrary, Fox seemed gratified by the prospect. There was no rage, no defiance, nothing but amiable complacency. Maybe the fellow had failed to grasp precisely what was meant.
"We are going to assume ownership of Terra lock, stock, and barrel," emphasized Zalumar, still watching him. "We are going to confiscate your world because the rewards of life belong to the most deserving. That is our opinion. We have the power to make it the only acceptable opinion. Do you understand me, Fox?"
"Yes, sire."
"The prospect does not annoy you?"
"No, sire."
"Why doesn't it?"
Fox shrugged philosophically. "Either you are cleverer than us or you aren't, one way or the other, and that is that. If you aren't, you won't be able to conquer this world no matter what you say or do."
"But if we are cleverer?"
"I guess we'll benefit from your rule. You can't govern us without teaching us things worth learning."
"This," declared Zalumar, with a touch of wonder, "is the first time in our history that we've encountered so reasonable an attitude. I hope all the other Terrans are like you. If so, this will prove the easiest conquest to date."
"They won't give you any bother," Fox assured.
"You must belong to an amazingly placid species," Zalumar offered.
"We have our own peculiar ways of looking at things, of doing things."
"They appear to be vastly different from everyone else's ways, so different as to seem almost contrary to nature." Zalumar put on a thin smile. "However, it is a matter of no importance. Very soon your people will look at everything in our way, do everything in our way. Alternatively, they will cease to exist."
"They're in no hurry to die," said Fox.
"Well, they're normal enough in that respect. I had you brought here to inform you of what we intend to do and, more importantly, to show you why your people had better let us do it without argument or opposition. I shall use you and your fellow captives as liaison officers, therefore it is necessary to convince you that your world's choice lies between unquestioning obedience or complete extermination. After that, it will be your duty to persuade Terran authorities to do exactly as we tell them. Lakin will take you to the projection room and show you some very interesting pictures."
"Pictures?"
"Yes, three-dimensional ones in full color. They will demonstrate what happened to Planet K14 whose people were stupid enough to think they could defy us and get away with it. We made an example of them, an object lesson to others. What we did to their world we can do to any planet including this one." He gave a careless wave of his hand. "Take him away and show him, Lakin."
After they'd gone he lay back in his scat and felt satisfied. Once again it was about to be demonstrated that lesser life-forms are handicapped by questions of ethics, of morals, of right and wrong. They just hadn't the brains to understand that greed, brutality, and ruthlessness arc nothing more than terms of abuse for efficiency.
Only the Raidans, it seemed, had the wisdom to learn and apply Nature's law that victory belongs to the sharp in tooth and swift in claw.
In the projection room Lakin turned a couple of switches, made a few minor adjustments to controls. Nearby a large grayish sphere bloomed to life. At its middle floated a tiny bead of intense light; near its inner surface swam a smaller, darker bead with one face silvered by the center illumination.
"Now watch!"
They studied the sphere. After a short while the dark outermost bead suddenly swelled and blazed into fire, almost but not quite rivaling the center one with the intensity of its light. Lakin reversed the switches. The two glowing beads disappeared, the big sphere resumed its dull grayness.
"That," said Lakin, having the grace not to smack his lips, "is the actual record of the expulsion from the stage of life of two thousand million fools. The cosmos will never miss them. They were born, they served their ordained purpose, and they departed—forever. Would you like to know what that purpose was?"
"If you please," said Fox, very politely.
"They were created so that their wholesale slaughter might knock some sense into their sector of the cosmos."
"And did it?"
"Beyond all doubt." Lakin let go a cold laugh. "On every planet in the vicinity the inhabitants fought each other for the privilege of kissing our feet." He let his yellow eyes linger speculatively upon the other. "We don't expect you to believe all this, not right now."
"Don't you?"
"Of course not. Anyone can fake a stereoscopic record of cosmic disaster. You'd be gullible indeed if you let us confiscate your world on the strength of nothing better than a three-dimensional picture, wouldn't you?"
"Credulity has nothing to do with it," assured Fox. "You want to take us over. We're glad to be taken over. That's all there is to it."
"Look, we can back up our pictures with proof. We can show your own astronomers upon their own star maps exactly where a minor sun has become a binary. We can name and prove the date on which this change took place. If that doesn't satisfy them, we can convert to a ball of flaming gas any petty satellite within this system that they care to choose. We can show them what happens and demonstrate that we made it happen." He stared at Fox, his expression slightly baffled. "Do you really mean to say that such proof will not be required?"
"I don't think so. The great majority will accept your claims without argument. A few skeptics may quibble but they can be ignored."
Lakin frowned in evident dissatisfaction. "I don't understand this. One would almost think your kind was eager to be conquered. It is not a normal reaction."
"Normal by whose standards?" asked Fox. "We are aliens, aren't we? You must expect us to have alien mentalities, alien ways of looking at things."
"I need no lecture from you about alien mentalities," snapped Lakin, becoming irritated. "We Raidans have handled a large enough variety of them. We've mastered more life-forms than your kind can imagine. And I still say that your attitude is not normal. If Terra reacts in the way you seem to think it will, without proof, without being given good reason to fear, then everyone here must be a natural-born slave."
"What's wrong with that?" Fox countered. "If Nature in her wisdom has designed your kind to be the master race, why shouldn't she have created my kind as slaves?"
"I don't like the way you gloat about your slavery," shouted Lakin. "If Terrans think they can outwit us, they've another think coming. Do you understand?"
"Most certainly I understand," confirmed Fox, as soothingly as possible.
"Then return to your comrades and tell them what you have seen, what you've been told. If any of them wish for further evidence, bring them here immediately. I will answer their questions, provide any proof for which they may ask."
"Very well."
Sitting on the edge of the table, Lakin watched the other go out. He remained seated for ten tedious minutes. Then he fidgeted for five more, finally mooched several times around the room. Eventually Fox looked in.
"They are all willing to take my word for it."
"Nobody desires to learn more?" Lakin showed his incredulity.
"No."
"They accept everything without question?"
"Yes," said Fox. "I told you they probably would, didn't I?"
Lakin did not deign to answer that one. He made a curt gesture of dismissal, closed the projection room, went back to the main cabin. Zalumar was still there, talking to Heisham, who was the fleet's chief engineer.
Breaking off the conversation, Zalumar said to Lakin, "What happened? Did the bearded low-life get the usual fit of hysterics?"
"No, sire. On the contrary, he appears to enjoy the prospect of his world being mastered."
"I am not at all surprised," commented Zalumar. "These Terrans arc philosophical to the point of idiocy." His sharp eyes noted the other's face. "Why do you look so sour?"
"I don't like the attitude of these aliens, sire."
"Why not? It makes things easy for us. Or do you prefer to get everything the hard way?"
Lakin said nothing.
"Let us congratulate ourselves upon our good fortune," encouraged Zalumar, oozing oily self-confidence. "Victory without battle comes far cheaper than one paid for in blood. A planet mastered is worth infinitely more than a world destroyed."
Speaking up with sudden resolve, Lakin said, "According to the books we've found here, and according to our own preliminary observations, these Terrans have a civilization only a couple of jumps behind our own. They have short-range spaceships on regular runs to their outer planets. They've even got that small colony we noticed on the system of their nearest star. All that has to be born of and supported by a technology that cannot he the creation of imbeciles."
"I agree," chipped in Heisham, with the enthusiasm of an engineer. "I've been studying the details of their ships. These Terrans are supposed to be about twenty thousand years younger than we—but technically they're nothing like as far behind. Therefore they must—"
"Quiet!" roared Zalumar. He paused to let ensuing silence sink in, then continued in lower tones. "All species are afflicted by what they consider to be virtues. We know that from our own firsthand experience, don't we? The disease of goodness varies as between one life form and another. This happens to be the first world we've discovered on which the prime virtue is obedience. They may have a modicum of brains but they've all been brought up to respect their betters." He threw his listener a sardonic glance. "And you, an experienced space-warrior, permit it to surprise you, allow it to worry you. What is the matter with you, eh?"
"It is only that their submissive attitude runs contrary to my every instinct."
"Naturally, my dear Lakin, naturally. We submit to nobody. But ...
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